st we met no more gold. Our ships
grew so worn that now at any threat in the sky we must look and look
quickly for harborage, be it good or indifferent bad. To many of us the
coast now took a wicked look. It was deep in November.

No gold. These Indians--how vast anyhow was India?--were hostile, not
friendly. Our ships were dying, manifestly. If they sank under us and we
drowned, the King and Queen--if the Queen still lived--never would come
to know that Christopherus Columbus had found Veragua thrice more
golden even than Paria! Found Veragua, met men of Yucatan; and heard of
Ciguarre.

At last not only the mutinous but steadfast men cried, "If there is a
strait it is too far with these ships!"

For a time he was obstinate. _It must be found,--it must be found!_ But
one night there fell all but loss of the Margarita. When next he slept
he had a dream. "The good Queen came to me and she had in her hand
a picture of five stout ships. Out of her lips came a singing voice.
'Master Christopherus, Master Christopherus, these wait for you, riding
in Cadiz harbor! But now will you slay your son and your brother and all
your men?' Then she said, 'The strait is hidden for a while,' and went."

That day we turned. "We will go back to Veragua and lade with gold, and
then we'll sail to Jamaica and to Hispaniola where this time we shall be
welcome! Then to Spain where the Queen will give me a stronger fleet."

Our ships hailed the turning. Even the Adelantado, even Diego Mendez and
Juan Sanchez and Bartholomew Fiesco who were of the boldest drew long
breath as of men respited from death.

Not so many have known and lived to tell of such weather as now we met
and in it rolled from wave to wave through a long month.

Would we put to land we were beaten back. We had never seen such waves,
and at times they glowed with cold fire. The sea with the wind twisted,
danced and shouted. We were deaf with thunder and blind with lightning.
When the rain descended, it was as though an upper ocean were coming
down. A little surcease, then return of the tempest, like return of
Polyphemus. Men died from drowning, and, I think, from pure fright. One
day the clouds drove down, the sea whirled up. There was made a huge
water column, a moving column that fast grew larger. Crying out, our
sailors flung themselves upon their knees. It passed us with a mighty
sound, and we were not engulfed.

The Admiral said, "God tries us, but he will not destroy