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nation was possible。 Without knowledge the myths were born。 Legends were created and nurtured when the surrounding land was shaken by an immense earthquake that destroyed the shoreline villages。 When； after five days； the tremors finally died away； the great inland sea had vanished； leaving only a thick ring of shells on what was once a shoreline。
The mysterious intruders soon wove their way into religious tradition and became gods。 Through time； stories of their sudden manifestation and disappearance grew and then eventually faded until they were but a bit of vague supernatural folklore handed down from generation to generation； by a people who lived in a haunted land where unexplained phenomena hovered like smoke over a campfire。
CATACLYSM
March 1； 1578
West Coast of Peru
Captain Juan de Anton； a brooding man with castilian green eyes and a precisely trimmed black beard； peered through his spyglass at the strange ship following in his wake and raised his eyebrows in mild surprise。 A chance encounter； he wondered； or a planned interception？
On the final lap of a voyage from Callao de Lima； de Anton had not expected to meet other treasure galleons bound for Panama； where the king's wealth would be packed aboard mules for a journey across the isthmus； and then shipped over the Atlantic to the coffers of Seville。 He perceived a trace of French design in the hull and rigging of the stranger trailing his wake a league and a half astern。 If he had been sailing the Caribbean trade routes to Spain； de Anton would have shunned contact with other ships； but his suspicions cooled slightly when he spied an enormous flag streaming from a tall staff on the stern。 Like his own ensign； snapping tautly in the wind； it sported a white background with the rampant red cross of sixteenth…century Spain。 Still； he felt a trifle uneasy。
De Anton turned to his second…in…mand and chief pilot； Luis Tomes。 〃What do you make of her； Luis？〃
Tomes； a tall； clean…shaven Galician； shrugged。 〃Too small for a bullion galleon。 I judge her to be a wine merchantman out of Valparaiso heading for port in Panama the same as we。〃
〃You do not think there is a possibility she might be an enemy of Spain？〃
〃Impossible。 No enemy ships have ever dared attempt the passage through the treacherous labyrinth of the Magellan Strait around South America。〃
Reassured； de Anton nodded。 〃Since we have no fear of them being French or English； let us put about and greet them。〃
Torres gave the order to the steersman； who sighted his course across the gun deck from under a raised trunk on the deck above。 He manhandled a vertical pole that pivoted on a long shaft that turned the rudder。 The Nuestra Senora de la Concepcion； the largest and most regal of the Pacific armada treasure galleons； leaned onto her port side and came around on a reverse course to the southwest。 Her nine sails filled from a swift； easterly offshore breeze that pushed her 570…ton bulk through the rolling swells at a fortable five knots。
Despite her majestic lines and the ornate carvings and colorful art designs painted on the sides of her high stern and forecastle； the galleon was a tough customer。 Extremely rugged and seaworthy； she was the workhorse of the oceangoing vessels of her time。 And if need be； she could slug it out with the best privateers a marauding sea nation could throw at her to defend the precious treasure in her cargo holds。
To the casual eye； the treasure galleon looked to be a threatening warship bristling with armament； but surveyed from the inside she could not conceal her true purpose as a merchant ship。 Her gun decks held ports for nearly fifty four…pound cannon。 But lulled by the Spanish belief that the South Seas were their private pond； and the knowledge that none of their ships had ever been attacked or captured by a foreign raider； the Concepcion was lightly armed with only two guns to reduce her tonnage so she could carry heavier cargo。
Now feeling that his ship was in no danger； Captain de Anton casually sat on a small stool and resumed peering through his spyglass at the rapidly approaching ship。 It never occurred to him to alert his crew for battle just to be on the safe side。
He had no certain foreknowledge； not even a vague premonition that the ship he had turned to meet was the Golden Hind； captained by England's indefatigable seadog； Francis Drake； who stood on his quarterdeck and calmly stared back at de Anton through a telescope； with the cold eye of a shark following a trail of blood。
〃Damned considerate of him to e about and meet us；〃 muttered Drake； a beady…eyed gamecock of a man with dark red curly hair plemented by a light sandy beard that tapered to a sharp point under a long swooping moustache。
〃The very least he could do after we've chased his wake for the past two weeks；〃 replied Thomas Cuttill； sailing master of the Golden Hind。
〃Aye； but she's a prize worth chasing。〃
Already laden with gold and silver bullion； a small chest of precious stones； and valuable linens and silks after capturing a score of Spanish ships since being the first English vessel to sail into the Pacific； the Golden Hind； formerly named the Pelican； pounded through the waves like a beagle after a fox。 She was a stout and sturdy vessel with an overall length of about 31 meters （102 feet） and a displacement tonnage of 140。 She was a good sailor and answered the helm well。 Her hull and masts were far from new； but； after a lengthy refit at Plymouth； she had been made ready for a voyage that was to take her 55；000 kilometers （over 34；000 miles） around the world in thirty…five months； in one of the greatest sea epics of all time。
〃Do you wish to cut across her bow and rake the Spanish jackals？〃 Cuttill inquired。
Drake dropped his long telescope； shook his head； and smiled broadly。 〃The better part of courtesy would be to trim sail and greet them like proper gentlemen。〃
Cuttill stared unprehending at his audacious mander。 〃But suppose they've put about to give battle？〃
〃Not damned likely her captain has a notion as to who we are。〃
〃She's twice our size；〃 Cuttill persisted。
〃According to the sailors we captured at Callao de Lima； the Concepcion carries only two guns。 The Hind boasts eighteen。〃
〃Spaniards！〃 Cuttill spit。 〃They lie worse than the Irish。〃
Drake pointed at the unsuspecting ship approaching bow on。 〃Spanish ship captains run rather than fight；〃 he reminded his feisty subordinate。
〃Then why not stand off and blast her into submission？〃
〃Not wise to fire our guns and run the risk of sinking her with all her loot。〃 Drake clapped a hand on Cuttill's shoulder。 〃Not to fear； Thomas。 If I scheme a crafty plan； we'll save our powder and rely on stout Englishmen who are spoiling for a good fight。〃
Cuttill nodded in understanding。 〃You mean to grapple and board her then？〃
Drake nodded。 〃We'll be on her decks before her crew can prime a musket。 They don't know it yet； but they're sailing into a trap of their own making。〃
Slightly after three in the afternoon； the Nuestra Senora de la Concepcion came about on a parallel course to the northwest again and ranged toward the Golden Hind's port quarter。 Torres climbed the ladder to his ship's forecastle and shouted across the water。
〃What ship are you？〃
Numa de Silva； a Portuguese pilot Drake had appropriated after capturing de Silva's ship off Brazil； replied in Spanish； 〃San Pedro de Paula out of Valparaiso。〃 The name of a vessel Drake had seized three weeks earlier。
Except for a few crew members who were dressed as Spanish sailors； Drake had hidden the mass of his men below decks and armed them with protective coats of mail and an arsenal of pikes； pistols； muskets； and cutlasses。 Grappling hooks attached to stout ropes were stowed along the bulwarks on the top deck。 Crossbowmen were secretly stationed in the fighting tops above the mainyards of the masts。 Drake forbade firearms in the fighting tops where musket fire could easily ignite the sails into sheets of flame。 The mainsails were hauled up and furled to give the bowmen an unobscured line of vision。 Only then did he relax and patiently wait for the moment to attack。 The fact that his Englishmen numbered eighty…eight against the Spanish crew of nearly two hundred bothered him not at all。 It was not the first time nor the last he would ignore superior odds。 His renowned fight against the Spanish Armada in the English Channel was yet to e。
From his view； de Anton saw no unusual activity on the decks of the seemingly friendly and businesslike ship。 The crew looked to be going about their duties without undue curiosity toward the Concepcion。 The captain； he observed； leaned casually against the railing of the quarterdeck and saluted de Anton。 The newer seemed deceptively innocent as it unobtrusively angled closer to the big treasure galleon。
When the gap between the two ships had narrowed to 30 meters （97 feet）； Drake gave an almost imperceptible nod； and his ship's finest sharpshooter； who lay concealed on the gun deck； fired his musket and struck the Concepcion's steersman in the chest。 In unison the crossbowmen in the fighting tops be