oud cries. We thought that
they were eaters of men's flesh. Likewise they had a custom of wearing
earrings of great weight, some of copper, some of that mixed gold we
called guanin. So heavy were these ornaments that they pulled the ear
down to mid-throat. The Admiral named this place the Coast of the Ear.

On we sailed, and on, never out of sight of land to starboard. Day
by day, along a coast that now as a whole bent eastward. And yet no
strait--no way through into the sea into which poured the Ganges.

CHAPTER XLI

THE weather plagued us. The rains were cataracts, the lightning
blinding, the thunder loud enough to wake the dead. Day after day,
until this weather grew to seem a veritable Will, a Demon with a grudge
against us.

The _Margarita_ sailed no better; she sailed worse. The Admiral
considered abandoning her, taking the Adelantado upon the _Consolacion_
and dividing his crew among the three ships. But the Adelantado's pride
and obstinacy and seamanship were against that. "I'll sail her, because
San Domingo thinks I can!"

Stormy days and nights, and the Admiral watching. "The _Margarita_! Ho,
look out! Do you see the _Margarita_?"

In the midst of foul weather came foully back the gout that crippled
him. I would have had him stay in his bed. "I cannot! How do you think
I can?" In the end he had us build him some kind of shelter upon deck,
fastening there a bench and laying a pallet upon this. Here, propped
against the wood, covered with cloaks, he still watched the sea and how
went our ship and the other ships.

Day after day and day after day! Creeping eastward along a bad shore, in
the teeth of the demon. The seas, the winds, the enormous rain wore us
out. Men grew large-eyed. If we slept came a shriek and wakened us. We
would put to land, but the wind turned and thrust us out again, or we
found no harbor. We seemed to be fixed in one place while time rushed by
us.

Forecastle began to say, "It is enchantment!" Presently poop echoed
it. The boy Fernando brought it to his father. "Alonso de Zamorra and
Bernardo the Apothecary say that demons and witches are against us."

"The Prince of the Power of the Air!" said the Admiral. "It may be,
child! Paynimry against Christianity. We had a touch of the same quality
once off Cuba. But is it, or is it not, Christian men shall win! And
send me Bartholomew Fiesco. Such talk is injury. It bores men's courage
worse than the _teredo_ a ship's bottom!"

We