suffering and which
thou hast passed in the service of others. And thus half dead, I
heard everything; but I could never find an answer to make to words
so certain, and only I wept for my errors. He, who ever he might
be, finished speaking, saying: Trust and fear not, for thy
tribulations are written in marble and not without reason."

Mere darkness of stupor; not much to be deciphered from it, nor any
profitable comment to be made on it, except that it was our poor
Christopher's way of crying out his great suffering and misery. We must
not notice it, much as we should like to hold out a hand of sympathy and
comfort to him; must not pay much attention to this dark eloquent
nonsense--merely words, in which the Admiral never does himself justice.
Acts are his true conversation; and when he speaks in that language all
men must listen.

CHAPTER IV

HEROIC ADVENTURES BY LAND AND SEA

No man ever had a better excuse for his superstitions than the Admiral;
no sooner had he got done with his Vision than the wind dropped, the sun
came out, the sea fell, and communication with the land was restored.
While he had been sick and dreaming one of his crew, Diego Mendez, had
been busy with practical efforts in preparation for this day of fine
weather; he had made a great raft out of Indian canoes lashed together,
with mighty sacks of sail cloth into which the provisions might be
bundled; and as soon as the sea had become calm enough he took this raft
in over the bar to the settlement ashore, and began the business of
embarking the whole of the stores and ammunition of Bartholomew's
garrison. By this practical method the whole establishment was
transferred from the shore to the ships in the space of two days, and
nothing was left but the caravel, which it was found impossible to float
again. It was heavy work towing the raft constantly backwards and
forwards from the ships to the shore, but Diego Mendez had the
satisfaction of being the last man to embark from the deserted
settlement, and to see that not an ounce of stores or ammunition had been
lost.

Columbus, always quick to reward the services of a good man, kissed Diego
Mendez publicly--on both cheeks, and (what doubtless pleased him much
better) gave him command of the caravel of which poor Tristan had been
the captain.

With a favourable wind they sailed from this accursed shore at the end of
April 1503. It is strange, as Winsor poin