ed and made their way to their countrymen's
ships, thus getting in safety to San Domingo. De Soto, however, died
before their arrival. He had been shot with a poisoned arrow while
running to the monastery for shelter.

All this happened within two months after Las Casas' departure. He,
meanwhile, through the ignorance of the sailors, had been carried a long
way past San Domingo, and for all this time had been beating about with
contrary winds, finally landing on another part of the island, whence he
was obliged to proceed on foot.

He was traveling with a party of persons also bound for San Domingo, and
one day at noon, as they drew near the city, while they were all resting
in the shade of the trees, some people came up with them and told them
that the news had reached the city that the Indians of the Pearl Coast
had killed the clerico, Bartholome Las Casas, and all his household.
Those who were traveling with Las Casas denied this, saying that he was
with them; and while they were disputing he awoke and heard what they
said.

Although he thought it might not be as bad as it was represented, he
knew that something terrible must have happened to his little colony,
and went on at once in great anxiety to find how much of the news was
true. A short distance out some of his friends met him. Having heard
that he was on the road, they had come to try and comfort him and to
offer him money to start another colony. But at last the brave spirit
gave way. He could not rally at once from such a grief, and he went,
broken-hearted, to his friends the Dominicans, to hide his sorrows
within the walls of their monastery.

CHAPTER VIII

THE CLOISTER

Day after day Bartholome Las Casas sat in the garden of the Dominican
monastery at San Domingo, sad and dejected. As he thought of his years
of struggle and realized with bitter grief that he had nothing to show
for it all, doubts assailed him, and he accused himself of having rashly
undertaken work to which he had not been called. He might, indeed, have
gone to Spain again and received help to carry out his plans; but he had
not the courage. His heart was like water within him.

Nor was he encouraged to go on by his friends the monks. They greatly
desired to have him among their number, and urged him strongly to give
up the fight and enter the brotherhood,--which at last he did. The
Dominicans rejoiced greatly as did his enemies in the colonies, for they
thought they were