rought upon the land. Juan Sanchez was strong and
wary, and watchful; so they swore were all the Spaniards in the boat.
Yet when night was fallen that Indian, bound as he was, broke with a
shout from them all and leaped from boat into black river.

They thought he perished, seeing him no more for all their moving about
and bringing the boat to the land. Juan Sanchez was certain he sank,
bound as he was. With other captives and with a great mass of golden
ornaments, came back to the ships the Adelantado. The Indian camp was
broken, dispersed.

The rains began to fall. The river swelled; the fort and store place and
other houses were builded.

The eighty who were to stay and the something under that number who were
to go prepared to say farewell. We went to mass under three palm trees,
before our fort on the river Bethlehem. That over, those who were to go
went aboard the three ships, and the sails were made, and they began to
sing as they passed down the Bethlehem. The _Margarita_ and we watched
their going.

They went a league, and then another--we thought they were wholly gone.
But out of the river, though the skies were clear, again rushed against
them an enemy wind. They lay at anchor in river mouth, waiting on
propitiousness. But we, up the river, thought they were gone. That
night, before dawn, Quibian attacked us.

We had several killed, and the Adelantado was hurt in the breast, and
many others had their wounds. But we thundered with our cannon and we
loosed two bloodhounds and we charged. For a time the brown, naked foe
fought desperately, but at last he broke. Far streamed five hundred
fleeing particles into the gloomy, the deep, the matted forest. Up the
river came a long boat, and we found it to hold Diego Tristan and eight
men sent by the Admiral with a forgotten word for the Adelantado. Much
we rejoiced that the ships were not clean gone!

Diego Tristan took our news. The Adelantado--his hurt was slight--wrote
again to the Admiral. Again we said farewell to Diego Tristan. The long
boat passed a turn in the Bethlehem; out of our sight. Once we thought
we heard a faint and distant shouting, but there was no telling. But
in five hours there staggered into fort Juan de Noya who alone lived of
that boatful, set upon by Quibian. Diego Tristan dead, and seven men.

All that night we heard in the wood those throbbing Indian drums and
wild-blowing shells.

They were Caribs, now we were sure, and Quibian liv