When Peter and his men were almost on the point of despair, they
perceived, far away upon the still waters, a large ship. With a great
jump, hope sprang up in the breast of every man. They seized the oars
and pulled in the direction of the distant craft. But when they were
near enough, they saw that the vessel was not a merchantman, probably
piled with gold and treasure, but a man-of-war belonging to the Spanish
fleet. In fact, it was the vessel of the vice-admiral. This was an
astonishing and disheartening state of things. It was very much as if a
lion, hearing the approach of probable prey, had sprung from the thicket
where he had been concealed, and had beheld before him, not a fine, fat
deer, but an immense and scrawny elephant.

But the twenty-nine buccaneers in the crew were very hungry. They had
not come out upon those waters to attack men-of-war, but, more than
that, they had not come out to perish by hunger and thirst. There could
be no doubt that there was plenty to eat and to drink on that tall
Spanish vessel, and if they could not get food and water they could not
live more than a day or two longer.

Under the circumstances it was not long before Peter the Great made up
his mind that if his men would stand by him, he would endeavor to
capture that Spanish war-vessel; when he put the question to his crew
they all swore that they would follow him and obey his orders as long as
life was left in their bodies. To attack a vessel armed with cannon, and
manned by a crew very much larger than their little party, seemed almost
like throwing themselves upon certain death. But still, there was a
chance that in some way they might get the better of the Spaniards;
whereas, if they rowed away again into the solitudes of the ocean, they
would give up all chance of saving themselves from death by starvation.