masters of the Indians, we're the masters of the Spaniards:" and he
replaced his hat.

A murmur of applause followed: but one hinted that he "doubted the
Spaniards were too many for them."

"Too many? How many men did we take Nombre de Dios with? Seventy-three
were we, and no more when we sailed out of Plymouth Sound; and before we
saw the Spanish Main, half were gastados, used up, as the Dons say, with
the scurvy; and in Port Pheasant Captain Rawse of Cowes fell in with us,
and that gave us some thirty hands more; and with that handful, my lads,
only fifty-three in all, we picked the lock of the new world! And whom
did we lose but our trumpeter, who stood braying like an ass in
the middle of the square, instead of taking care of his neck like a
Christian? I tell you, those Spaniards are rank cowards, as all bullies
are. They pray to a woman, the idolatrous rascals! and no wonder they
fight like women."

"You'm right, captain," sang out a tall gaunt fellow who stood close to
him; "one westcountry-man can fight two easterlings, and an easterling
can beat three Dons any day. Eh! my lads of Devon?

"For O! it's the herrings and the good brown beef,
And the cider and the cream so white;
O! they are the making of the jolly Devon lads,
For to play, and eke to fight."

"Come," said Oxenham, "come along! Who lists? who lists? who'll make his
fortune?