ndez broke into a rage, and gave the order to board. The men slipped
the cables, and the sullen black hulk of the San Pelayo drifted down
upon the Trinity. The French by no means made good their defiance.
Indeed, they were incapable of resistance, Ribaut with his soldiers
being ashore at Fort Caroline. They cut their cables, left their
anchors, made sail, and fled. The Spaniards fired, the French replied.
The other Spanish ships had imitated the movement of the San Pelayo;
"but," writes the chaplain, Mendoza, "these devils run mad are such
adroit sailors, and manoeuvred so well, that we did not catch one of
them." Pursuers and pursued ran out to sea, firing useless volleys at
each other.

In the morning Menendez gave over the chase, turned, and, with the San
Pelayo alone, ran back for the St. John's. But here a welcome was
prepared for him. He saw bands of armed men drawn up on the beach, and
the smaller vessels of Ribaut's squadron, which had crossed the bar
several days before, anchored behind it to oppose his landing. He would
not venture an attack, but, steering southward, skirted the coast till
he came to an inlet which he named St. Augustine.

Here he found three of his ships, already debarking their troops, guns,
and stores. Two officers, Patino and Vicente, had taken possession of
the dwelling of Seloy, an Indian chief, a huge barn-like structure,
strongly framed of entire trunks of trees, and thatched with
palmetto-leaves. Around it they were throwing up intrenchments of
fascines and sand. Gangs of negroes, with pick, shovel, and spade, were
toiling at the work. Such was the birth of St. Augustine, the oldest
town of the United States, and such the introduction of slave-labor upon
their soil.

On the eighth, Menendez took formal possession of his domain. Cannon
were fired, trumpets sounded, and banners displayed, as, at the head of
his officers and nobles, he landed in state. Mendoza, crucifix in hand,
came to meet him, chanting, "_Te Deum laudamus_," while the Adelantado
and all his company, kneeling, kissed the cross, and the congregated
Indians gazed in silent wonder.

Meanwhile the tenants of Fort Caroline were not idle. Two or three
soldiers, strolling along the beach in the afternoon, had first seen the
Spanish ships and hastily summoned Ribaut. He came down to the mouth of
the river, followed by an anxious and excited crowd; but, as they
strained their eyes through the darkness, they could see nothin