they
had had was meant merely to fatten them for future sacrifice. Half mad
with horror, they crouched in the hot moist darkness, and listened to
the uproar of the savages.

A strong young sailor by the name of Gonzalo Guerrero, who had done
good service during the hurricane, pulled Jeronimo by the sleeve, "What
in the name of all the saints can we do, Padre?" he muttered. "Jose and
the rest will be raving maniacs."

Aguilar straightened himself and rose to his feet where the rays of the
moon, white and calm, shone into the enclosure. Lifting his hands to
heaven he began to pray.

All he had learned from books and from the disputations and sermons of
the Fathers fell away from him and left only the bare scaffolding, the
faith of his childhood. At the familiar syllables of the Ave Maria the
shuddering sailors hushed their cries and oaths and listened, on their
knees.

This was a handful of castaways in the clutch of a race of man-eaters
who worshiped demons. But above them bent the tender and pitiful Mother
of Christ who had seen her Son crucified, and Christ Himself stood
surrounded by innumerable witnesses. Among the saints were some who had
died at the hands of the heathen, many who had died by torture. The poor
and ignorant men who listened were caught up for the moment into the
vision of Fray Jeronimo and regained their self-control. When the prayer
was ended Gonzalo Guerrero sprang up, and rallied them to furious labor.
Under his direction and Aguilar's they dug and wrenched at their cage
like desperate rats, until they broke away enough of it just to let a
man's body through. Aguilar was the last to go. He closed the hole and
heaped rubbish outside it, as rubbish and branches had been piled where
they were used to sleep, to delay as long as possible the discovery of
their escape. They got clear away into the depths of the forest.

But for men without provisions or weapons the wilderness of that unknown
land was only less dreadful than death. Trees and vines barren of fruit,
streams where a huge horny lizard ate all the fish--El Lagarto he was
called by the discoverers,--no grain or cattle which might be taken by
stealth--this was the realm into which they had been exiled. When they
ventured out of the forest, driven by famine, they were captured by Acan
Xooc, the cacique of another province, Jamacana. Here they were made
slaves, to cut wood, carry water and bear burdens. Water was scarce in
that region. The