ON Sunday, which was the third day after the admiral had received
intelligence of the caravels, and which was the 9th of September, the
day broke and saw the fleet drifting about not more than nine leagues
from Ferro.
All those in the secret watched anxiously for the hostile vessels, and
the admiral knew that if a breeze did not spring up during the day
there would be great danger of capture; for the caravels could get out
their long oars and be upon them in spite of the calm.
But fortunately for his purpose a breeze came up with the sun, and,
before any sign of the caravels was seen, the little fleet was skimming
over the waters into that mysterious west which filled the hearts of
the sailors with such foreboding that now they all remained on deck
watching, with increasing gloom, the disappearance behind the eastern
horizon of the last speck of land.
“Nothing but water now,” said Miguel, hoarsely, as his eye swept the
whole circle of the horizon.
And then, as if his words had had a spell in them, a strange thing
followed close upon them. Rodrigo de Triana, a stout man and a good
seaman, who had never given any trouble, turned and caught Miguel
by the shoulder in a spasmodic clutch, and, with his eyes rolling
terribly, cried out in a loud voice:
“And it’s the last land we ever shall see. God ’a mercy on us!” and
thereupon fell on his knees on the deck and cried like a child.
And then the others, seeing this, and being themselves wrought up to a
singular pitch of terror, seemed to lose all control of themselves; and
all over the vessel could be seen those strong men weeping and praying
in voices of agony and despair, until Martin Alonzo was filled with
alarm for the result, and sprang down the ladder and went among them.
With some he reasoned in short, telling words; others he caught in his
powerful hands and put upon their feet and shook them, bidding them be
men or he would do such things as would turn their thoughts in a great
hurry. And when he had brought them into some semblance of order, he
mounted the poop again and talked to them, telling them of the marvels
of the land they were going to.
“Gold, silver, precious stones, silks and satins,” he said, among
other things, to them, “are to be had there for the taking. Every man
among you, to the meanest, shall have his fill of riches. What shall
prevent every one of you from going back to Spain so rich that you may
purchase any title in the kingdom? You will all be princes. What! do
you think I only say these things? I know them. Why, men have been to
this land of Zipangu and to Cathay, which lies beyond it, and they have
so wearied of the wealth they might have there that they have left a
great part behind them on returning to their own country; and yet had
they so much with them that they were enabled to live in palaces and
be served by nobles. But we shall leave nothing behind that any man
cares to take. Here is the _Pinta_, which shall be loaded to the last
line with her precious freight, and we shall come home rejoicing, and
you will all despise yourselves for the childish terror which you let
conquer you this day.”
Since he believed everything he said, to the very last word, it was not
strange that he should make the men believe him, even in spite of their
fears, which they could not dispel, though they kept them hidden from
him.
[Illustration: “ALL OVER THE VESSEL COULD BE SEEN THOSE STRONG MEN
WEEPING.”]
That is, they hid them for the time; but as they kept going farther and
farther from the land, their fears would return to them, and they would
construe the simplest occurrence into an omen of evil, and there would
follow a panic, which Martin Alonzo would soothe as best he could,
displaying a patience that no one would have looked for in him; though
sometimes breaking out in a great fury when his words seemed to have no
effect.
But it was seldom that the cupidity that was in the poor, ignorant men
would not become inflamed by his promises of gold and jewels; and so it
was on that theme that he talked the most often. And indeed it was the
theme that occupied his own mind the most; for it was only the admiral
who had any lofty thoughts concerning the discoveries he hoped to make.
He, indeed, cared for the wealth, too; but it can truly be said that
what was more in his mind than riches was the thought of carrying the
gospel to the heathen of Zipangu and Cathay.
But it was a terrible voyage in view of the fears of the sailors, their
imaginations becoming so diseased after a while that a sudden cry from
any one of them would create a panic among the others.
One day it was a floating mast, from some unfortunate wreck, that
disturbed them and made them pass the rest of the day in whispered
stories of disaster, and with suggestions of destruction to
themselves. At another time it was the variation of the compass; at
another time it was the fact that the wind blew steadily from the same
quarter, convincing them that it was wafting them designedly to that
abyss over which the ocean flowed; at another time it was a calm; at
another a great area of sea-weed, the extent of which they could not
see.
And so it went for days and days; though there were times when there
were omens which they looked upon as favorable. But afterwards these
were deemed only lures set by the Evil One to keep them to their
purpose. Sometimes they believed they saw land, and then they were
mad with joy and the ships would race with each other to be the first
to see and touch it. Then it would be discovered that they had been
mistaken, and the gloom would be greater than before.
And, at last, the alarm of the men grew so great that they lost their
fear of Martin Alonzo, and began to talk so openly of forcing him to
turn back that he was alarmed, though he gave no sign of it. And then
there came a day when _he_ began to have doubts. Not that he doubted
that land could be reached somewhere in that western ocean; but that
he believed that the admiral was obstinate in always keeping to his
westerly course, when it seemed plain to him that land would be reached
sooner by taking a southwesterly course.
It had got to be October by this time, and it was on the 6th of that
month that Martin Alonzo signalled the admiral, and afterwards went
aboard his vessel with the intention of inducing him to change his
course. He was in no very good temper, for his men had been more than
usually mutinous, and it is probable that he insisted more strongly on
having his own way than he should have done.
The admiral, however, was a firmer man than Martin Alonzo, and he would
not swerve a point from his course. He was not obstinate, nor angry in
his demeanor, and said to Martin Alonzo:
“I believe that land lies due west of us. I should therefore be wrong
if I varied from my course. Several times you have urged me to vary,
and I foolishly have acceded, to a slight extent only, it is true; but
still I have done it. I must do so no more, except upon a conviction of
my own that I should do so.”
“Then do you go your way and let me go mine,” said Martin Alonzo,
angrily.
“Not so,” answered the admiral. “You shall keep the course I keep,
and diverge at your peril. I am in command of this fleet, and it
is for you to obey me,” and he spoke in so lofty and dignified a
tone that Martin Alonzo was hushed, though yet raging with anger and
mortification.
However, it happened the next day that the men became so threatening
that the admiral had need of the support of the Pinzons, of whom there
were many in the fleet, and to keep them on his side he did take a
course west-southwest. Then, after three days of that course, he turned
due west again, and held steadfastly in that direction.
By this time the men on the _Pinta_ could scarcely be held in any sort
of control, and the case was even worse on the other vessels; so that
it would have needed but a word to precipitate a mutiny that must have
ended in the deaths of the most worthy men of the expedition.
But at this point, when Martin Alonzo was moodily leaning over the
rail, thinking many hard things of the admiral, and half careless
whether or not his men rose against him, he suddenly noted certain
signs in the water that caused him to lift his head and cry out:
“Ho! Rodrigo de Triana! come hither!” and when the man had hurried to
his side, “look over into the water. Are those weeds from fresh water?
Did ever you see the like grow in the sea? And is that a fresh twig of
wood, floating yonder?”
“There is land hereabout,” said Rodrigo, turning pale. “There is
no doubt of it this time,” and he ran wildly forward, shouting the
intelligence to the men, and bidding them look into the water.