lked unconcernedly along the shore. His
coolness had its effect. The French blew a trumpet of parley, and showed
a white flag. The Spaniards replied. A Frenchman came out upon the raft,
and, shouting across the water, asked that a Spanish envoy should be
sent over.

"You have a raft," was the reply; "come yourselves."

An Indian canoe lay under the bank on the Spanish side. A French sailor
swam to it, paddled back unmolested, and presently returned, bringing
with him La Caille, Ribaut's sergeant-major. He told Menendez that the
French were three hundred and fifty in all, and were on their way to
Fort Caroline; and, like the officers of the former party, he begged for
boats to aid them in crossing the river.

"My brother," said Menendez, "go and tell your general, that, if he
wishes to speak with me, he may come with four or six companions, and
that I pledge my word he shall go back safe."

La Caille returned; and Ribaut, with eight gentlemen, soon came over
in the canoe. Menendez met them courteously, caused wine and preserved
fruits to be placed before them,--he had come well provisioned on his
errand of blood,--and next led Ribaut to the reeking Golgotha, where,
in heaps upon the sand, lay the corpses of his slaughtered followers.
Ribaut was prepared for the spectacle,--La Caille had already seen
it,--but he would not believe that Fort Caroline was taken till a part
of the plunder was shown him. Then, mastering his despair, he turned
to the conqueror. "What has befallen us," he said, "may one day befall
you." And, urging that the kings of France and Spain were brothers
and close friends, he begged, in the name of that friendship, that the
Spaniard would aid him in conveying his followers home. Menendez gave
him the same equivocal answer that he had given the former party, and
Ribaut returned to consult with his officers. After three hours of
absence, he came back in the canoe, and told the Adelantado that some of
his people were ready to surrender at discretion, but that many refused.

"They can do as they please," was the reply. In behalf of those who
surrendered, Ribaut offered a ransom of a hundred thousand ducats. "It
would much grieve me," said Menendez, "not to accept it; for I have
great need of it."

Ribaut was much encouraged. Menendez could scarcely forego such a
prize, and he thought, says the Spanish narrator, that the lives of
his followers would now be safe. He asked to be allowed the night for
de