"Three score and ten I can remember well,
Within the volume of which time I have seen
Hours dreadful, and things strange, but this sore sight
Hath trifled former knowings."
Macbeth.
A sight that struck our hero with a terror and awe, almost as great as
those experienced by the ignorant Haytians at the report and effect of
the arquebuse, awaited him, as he came in view of the anchorage. The
Santa Maria, that vessel of the admiral, which he had left only four
days before in her gallant array and pride, lay a stranded wreck on the
sands, with fallen masts, broken sides, and all the other signs of
nautical destruction. The Nina was anchored in safety, it is true, at no
great distance, but a sense of loneliness and desertion came over the
young man, as he gazed at this small craft, which was little more than a
felucca, raised to the rank of a ship for the purposes of the voyage.
The beach was covered with stores, and it was evident that the Spaniards
and the people of Guacanagari toiled in company, at the construction of
a sort of fortress; an omen that some great change had come over the
expedition. Ozema was immediately left in the house of a native, and the
two adventurers hurried forward to join their friends, and to ask an
explanation of what they had seen.
Columbus received his young friend kindly, but in deep affliction. The
manner in which the ship was lost has been often told, and Luis learned
that the Nina being too small to carry all away, a colony was to be left
in the fortress, while the remainder of the adventurers hastened back to
Spain. Guacanagari had shown himself full of sympathy, and was kindness
itself, while every one had been too much occupied with the shipwreck to
miss our hero, or to hearken to rumors of an event as common as an
inroad from a Carib chief, to carry off an Indian beauty. Perhaps, the
latter event was still too recent to have reached the shores.
The week that succeeded the return of Luis was one of active exertion.
The Santa Maria was wrecked on the morning of Christmas day, 1492, and
on that of the 4th of January following, the Nina was ready to depart on
her return voyage. During this interval, Luis had seen Ozema but once,
and then he had found her sorrowing, mute, and resembling a withered
flower, that retained its beauty even while it drooped. On the evening
of the third, however, while lingering near the new-finished fortress,
he was summoned by Sancho to another interview. To the surprise of our
hero, he found the young cacique with his sister.
Although language was wanting, on this occasion, the parties easily
understood each other. Ozema was no longer sorrowful, and borne down
with grief: the smile and the laugh came easily from her young and
buoyant spirits, and Luis thought he had never seen her so winning and
lovely. She had arranged her scanty toilet with Indian coquetry, and the
bright, warm color of her cheeks added new lustre to her brilliant eyes.
Her light, agile form, a model of artless grace, seemed so ethereal as
scarce to touch the earth. The secret of this sudden change was not long
hid from Luis. The brother and sister, after discussing all their
dangers and escapes, and passing in review the character and known
determination of Caonabo, had come to the conclusion that there was no
refuge for Ozema but in flight. What most determined the brother to
consent that his sister should accompany the strangers to their distant
home, it would be useless to inquire; but the motive of Ozema herself,
can be no secret to the reader. It was known that the admiral was
desirous of carrying to Spain a party of natives; and three females, one
of whom was of Ozema's rank, had already consented to go. This
chieftain's wife was not only known to Ozema, but she was a kinswoman.
Every thing seemed propitious to the undertaking; and as a voyage to
Spain was still a mystery to the natives, who regarded it as something
like an extended passage from one of their islands to another, no
formidable difficulties presented themselves to the imagination of
either the cacique or his sister.
This proposition took our hero by surprise. He was both flattered and
pleased at the self-devotion of Ozema, even while it troubled him.
Perhaps there were moments when he a little distrusted himself. Still
Mercedes reigned in his heart, and he shook off the feeling as a
suspicion that a true knight could not entertain without offering an
insult to his own honor. On second thoughts, there were fewer objections
to the scheme than he at first fancied; and, after an hour's discussion,
he left the place to go and consult the admiral.
Columbus was still at the fortress, and he heard our hero gravely and
with interest. Once or twice Luis' eyes dropped under the searching
glance of his superior; but, on the whole, he acquitted himself of the
task he had undertaken, with credit.
"The sister of a cacique, thou say'st, Don Luis," returned the admiral,
thoughtfully. "The virgin sister of a cacique!"
"Even so, Don Christopher; and of a grace, birth, and beauty, that will
give our Lady, the Queen, a most exalted idea of the merits of our
discovery."
"Thou wilt remember, Senor Conde, that naught but purity may be offered
to purity. Dona Isabella is a model for all queens, and mothers, and
wives; and I trust nothing to offend her angelic mind can ever come from
her favored servants. There has been no deception practised on this wild
girl, to lead her into sin and misery?"
"Don Christopher, you can scarce think this of me. Dona Mercedes herself
is not more innocent than the girl I mean, nor could her brother feel
more solicitude in her fortunes, than I feel. When the king and queen
have satisfied their curiosity, and dismissed her, I propose to place
her under the care of the Lady of Valverde."
"The rarer the specimens that we take, the better, Luis. This will
gratify the sovereigns, and cause them to think favorably of our
discoveries, as thou say'st. It might be done without inconvenience. The
Nina is small, of a verity, but we gain much in leaving this large party
behind us. I have given up the principal cabin to the other females,
since thou and I can fare rudely for a few weeks. Let the girl come, and
see thou to her comfort and convenience."
This settled the matter. Early next morning Ozema embarked, carrying
with her the simple wealth of an Indian princess, among which the turban
was carefully preserved. Her relative had an attendant, who sufficed for
both. Luis paid great attention to the accommodations, in which both
comfort and privacy were duly respected. The parting with Mattinao was
touchingly tender, for the domestic affections appear to have been much
cultivated among these simple-minded and gentle people; but the
separation, it was supposed, would be short, and Ozema had, again and
again, assured her brother that her repugnance to Caonabo, powerful
cacique as he might be, was unconquerable. Each hour increased it,
strengthening her resolution never to become his wife. The alternative
was to secrete herself in the island, or to make this voyage to Spain;
and there was glory as well as security in the latter. With this
consolation, the brother and sister parted.
Columbus had intended to push his discoveries much further, before he
returned to Europe; but the loss of the Santa Maria, and the desertion
of the Pinta, reduced him to the necessity of bringing the expedition to
a close, lest, by some untoward accident, all that had actually been
achieved should be forever lost to the world. Accordingly, in the course
of the 4th of January, 1493, he made sail to the eastward, holding his
course along the shores of Hayti. His great object now was to get back
to Spain before his remaining little bark should fail him, when his own
name would perish with the knowledge of his discoveries. Fortunately,
however, on the 6th, the Pinta was seen coming down before the wind,
Martin Alonzo Pinzon having effected one of the purposes for which he
had parted company, that of securing a quantity of gold, but failed in
discovering any mines, which is believed to have been his principal
motive.
It is not important to the narrative to relate the details of the
meeting that followed. Columbus received the offending Pinzon with
prudent reserve, and, hearing his explanations, he directed him to
prepare the Pinta for the return passage. After wooding and watering
accordingly, in a bay favorable to such objects, the two vessels
proceeded to the eastward in company; still following the north shore of
Hayti, Espanola, or Little Spain, as the island had been named by
Columbus.[4]
[Footnote 4: The fortunes of this beautiful island furnish a remarkable
proof of the manner in which abusse are made, by the providence of God,
to produce their own punishments. This island, which is about two-thirds
the size of the state of New York, was the seat of Spanish authority, in
the New World, for many years. The mild aborigines, who were numerous
and happy when discovered, were literally exterminated by the cruelties
of their new masters; and it was found necessary to import negroes from
Africa, to toil in the cane-fields. Toward the middle of the sixteenth
century, it is said that two hundred of the aborigines were not to be
found in the island, although Ovando had decoyed no less than forty
thousand from the Bahamas, to supply the places of the dead, as early as
1518! At a later day, Espanola passed into the hands of the French, and
all know the terrible events by which it has gone into the exclusive
possession of the descendants of the children of Africa. All that has
been said of the influence of the white population of this country, as
connected with our own Indians, sinks into insignificance, as compared
with these astounding facts.]
It was the 16th of the month, ere the adventurers finally took their
leave of this beautiful spot. They had scarcely got clear of the land,
steering a north-easterly course, when the favorable winds deserted
them, and they were again met by the trades. The weather was moderate,
however, and by keeping the two vessels on the best tack, by the 10th of
February, the admiral, making sundry deviations from a straight course,
however, had stretched across the track of ocean in which these constant
breezes prevailed, and reached a parallel of latitude as high as Palos,
his port. In making this long slant, the Nina, contrary to former
experience, was much detained by the dull sailing of the Pinta, which
vessel, having sprung her after-mast, was unable to bear a press of
sail. The light breeze also favored the first, which had ever been
deemed a fast craft in smooth water and gentle gales.
Most of the phenomena of the outward passage were observed on the
homeward; but the tunny-fish no longer excited hopes, nor did the
sea-weed awaken fears. These familiar objects were successfully, but
slowly passed, and the variable winds were happily struck again in the
first fortnight. Here the traverses necessarily became more and more
complicated, until the pilots, unused to so long and difficult a
navigation, in which they received no aids from either land or water,
got confused in their reckonings, disputing hotly among themselves
concerning their true position.
"Thou hast heard to-day, Luis," said the admiral, smiling, in one of his
renewed conferences with our hero, "the contentions of Vicente Yanez,
with his brother, Martin Alonzo, and the other pilots, touching our
distance from Spain. These constant shifts of wind have perplexed the
honest mariners, and they fancy themselves in any part of the Atlantic,
but that in which they really are!"
"Much depends on you, Senor; not only our safety, but the knowledge of
our great discoveries."
"Thou say'st true, Don Luis. Vicente Yanez, Sancho Ruiz, Pedro Alonzo
Nino, and Bartolemeo Roldan, to say nothing of the profound calculators
in the Pinta, place the vessels in the neighborhood of Madeira, which is
nearer to Spain, by a hundred and fifty leagues, than the truth would
show. These honest people have followed their wishes, rather than their
knowledge of the ocean and the heavens."
"And you, Don Christopher, where do you place the caravels, since there
is no motive to conceal the truth?"
"We are south of Flores, young Count, fully twelve degrees west of the
Canaries, and in the latitude of Nafe, in Africa. But I would that they
should be bewildered, until the right of possession to our discoveries
be made a matter of certainty. Not one of these men now doubts his
ability to do all I have done, and yet neither is able to grope his way
back again, after crossing this track of water to Asia!"
Luis understood the admiral, and the size of the vessels rendering the
communication of secrets hazardous, the conversation changed.
Up to this time, though the winds were often variable, the weather had
been good. A few squalls had occurred, as commonly happens at sea, but
they had proved to be neither long nor severe. All this was extremely
grateful to Columbus, who, now he had effected the great purpose for
which he might have been said to live, felt some such concern lest the
important secret should be lost to the rest of mankind, as one who
carries a precious object through scenes of danger experiences for the
safety of his charge. A change, however, was at hand, and at the very
moment when the great navigator began to hope the best, he was fated to
experience the severest of all his trials.
As the vessels advanced north, the weather became cooler, as a matter of
course, and the winds stronger. During the night of the 11th of
February, the caravels made a great run on their course, gaining more
than a hundred miles between sunset and sunrise. The next morning many
birds were in sight, from which fact Columbus believed himself quite
near the Azores, while the pilots fancied they were in the immediate
vicinity of Madeira. The following day the wind was less favorable,
though strong, and a heavy sea had got up. The properties of the little
Nina now showed themselves to advantage, for, ere the turn of the day,
she had to contend with such a struggle of the elements, as few in her
had ever before witnessed. Fortunately, all that consummate seamanship
could devise to render her safe and comfortable had been done, and she
was in as perfect a state of preparation for a tempest, as circumstances
would allow. The only essential defect was her unusual lightness, since,
most of her stores as well as her water being nearly exhausted, her
draught of water was materially less than it should have been. The
caravel was so small, that this circumstance, which is of little
consequence to the safety of large vessels, got to be one of
consideration in a craft whose means of endurance did not place her
above the perils of squalls. The reader will understand the distinction
better when he is told that ships of size can only lose their spars by
sudden gusts of wind, seldom being thrown on their beam ends, as it is
termed, unless by the power of the waves; whereas, smaller craft incur
the risk of being capsized, when the spread of their canvas is
disproportioned to their stability. Although the seamen of the Nina
perceived this defect in their caravel, which, in a great measure,
proceeded from the consumption of the fresh water, they hoped so soon to
gain a haven, that no means had been taken to remedy the evil.
Such was the state of things, as the sun set on the night of the 12th of
February, 1493. As usual, Columbus was on the poop, vessels of all sizes
then carrying these clumsy excrescences, though this of the Nina was so
small as scarcely to deserve the name. Luis was at his side, and both
watched the aspect of the heavens and the ocean in grave silence. Never
before had our hero seen the elements in so great commotion, and the
admiral had just remarked that even he had not viewed many nights as
threatening. There is a solemnity about a sunset at sea, when the clouds
appear threatening, and the omens of a storm are brooding, that is never
to be met with on the land. The loneliness of a ship, struggling through
a waste of dreary-looking water, contributes to the influence of the
feelings that are awakened, as there appears to be but one object on
which the wild efforts of the storm can expend themselves. All else seem
to be in unison to aid the general strife; ocean, heavens, and the air,
being alike accessories in the murky picture. When the wintry frowns of
February are thrown around all, the gloomy hues of the scene are
deepened to their darkest tints.
"This is a brooding nightfall, Don Luis," Columbus remarked, just as the
last rays that the sun cast upward on the stormy-looking clouds
disappeared from their ragged outlines--"I have rarely seen another as
menacing."
"One has a double confidence in the care of God, while sailing under
your guidance, Senor; first in his goodness, and next in the knowledge
of his agent's skilfulness."
"The power of the Almighty is sufficient to endue the feeblest mortal
with all fitting skill, when it is his divine will to spare; or to rob
the most experienced of their knowledge, when his anger can only be
appeased by the worldly destruction of his creatures."
"You look upon the night as portentous, Don Christopher!"
"I _have_ seen omens as ill, though very seldom. Had not the caravel
this burdensome freight, I might view our situation less anxiously."
"You surprise me, sir Admiral! the pilots have regretted that our bark
is so light."
"True, as to material substance; but it beareth a cargo of knowledge,
Luis, that it would be grievous to see wasted on these vacant waters.
Dost thou not perceive how fast and gloomily the curtain of night
gathereth about us, and the manner in which the Nina is rapidly getting
to be our whole world? Even the Pinta is barely distinguishable, like a
shapeless shadow on the foaming billows, serving rather as a beacon to
warn us of our own desolation, than as a consort to cheer us with her
presence and companionship."
"I have never known you thus moody, excellent Senor, on account of the
aspect of the weather!"
"'Tis not usual with me, young lord; but my heart is loaded with its
glorious secret. Behold!--dost thou remark that further sign of the
warring of the elements?"
The admiral, as he spoke, was standing with his face toward Spain, while
his companion's gaze was fastened on the portentous-looking horizon of
the west, around which still lingered sufficient light to render its
frowns as chilling as they were visible. He had not seen the change that
drew the remark from Columbus, but, turning quickly, he asked an
explanation. Notwithstanding the season, the horizon at the north-east
had been suddenly illuminated by a flash of lightning, and even while
the admiral was relating the fact, and pointing out the quarter of the
heavens in which the phenomenon had appeared, two more flashes followed
each other in quick succession.
"Senor Vicente"--called out Columbus, leaning forward in a way to
overlook a group of dusky figures that was collected on the half-deck
beneath him--"Is Senor Vicente Yanez of your number?"
"I am here, Don Christopher, and note the omen. It is the sign of even
more wind."
"We shall be visited with a tempest, worthy Vicente; and it will come
from that quarter of the heavens, or its opposite. Have we made all sure
in the caravel?"
"I know not what else is to be done, Senor Almirante. Our canvas is at
the lowest, every thing is well lashed, and we carry as little aloft as
can be spared. Sancho Ruiz, look you to the tarpaulings, lest we ship
more water than will be safe."
"Look well to our light, too, that our consort may not part from us in
the darkness. This is no time for sleep, Vicente--place your most trusty
men at the tiller."
"Senor, they are selected with care. Sancho Mundo, and young Pepe of
Moguer, do that duty, at present; others as skilled await to relieve
them, when their watch ends."
"'Tis well, good Pinzon--neither you nor I can close an eye to-night."
The precautions of Columbus were not uncalled-for. About an hour after
the unnatural flashes of lightning had been seen, the wind rose from the
south-west, favorably as to direction, but fearfully as to force.
Notwithstanding his strong desire to reach port, the admiral found it
prudent to order the solitary sail that was set, to be taken in; and
most of the night the two caravels drove before the gale, under bare
poles, heading to the north-east. We say both, for Martin Alonzo,
practised as he was in stormy seas, and disposed as he was to act only
for himself, now the great problem was solved, kept the Pinta so near
the Nina, that few minutes passed without her being seen careering on
the summit of a foaming sea, or settling bodily into the troughs, as she
drove headlong before the tempest; keeping side by side with her
consort, however, as man clings to man in moments of dependency and
peril.
Thus passed the night of the 13th, the day bringing with it a more vivid
picture of the whole scene, though it was thought that the wind somewhat
abated in its force as the sun arose. Perhaps this change existed only
in the imaginations of the mariners, the light usually lessening the
appearance of danger, by enabling men to face it. Each caravel, however,
set a little canvas, and both went foaming ahead, hurrying toward Spain
with their unlooked-for tidings. As the day advanced, the fury of the
gale sensibly lessened; but as night drew on again, it returned with
renewed force, more adverse, and compelling the adventurers to take in
every rag of sail they had ventured to spread. Nor was this the worst.
The caravels, by this time, had driven up into a tract of ocean where a
heavy cross-sea was raging, the effects of some other gale that had
recently blown from a different quarter. Both vessels struggled manfully
to lay up to their course, under these adverse circumstances; but they
began to labor in a way to excite uneasiness in those who comprehended
the fullest powers of the machines, and who knew whence the real sources
of danger were derived. As night approached, Columbus perceived that the
Pinta could not maintain her ground, the strain on her after-mast
proving too severe to be borne, even without an inch of canvas spread.
Reluctantly did he order the Nina to edge away toward her consort,
separation, at such a moment, being the evil next to positive
destruction.
In this manner the night of the 14th drew around our lone and sea-girt
adventurers. What had been merely menace and omens the previous night,
were now a dread reality. Columbus, himself, declared he had never known
a bark to buffet a more furious tempest, nor did he affect to conceal
from Luis the extent of his apprehensions. With the pilots, and before
the crew, he was serene, and even cheerful; but when alone with our
hero, he became frank and humble. Still was the celebrated navigator
always calm and firm. No unmanly complaint escaped him, though his very
soul was saddened at the danger his great discoveries ran of being
forever lost.
Such was the state of feeling that prevailed with the admiral, as he sat
in his narrow cabin, in the first hours of that appalling night,
watching for any change, relieving or disastrous, that might occur. The
howling of the winds, which fairly scooped up, from the surface of the
raging Atlantic, the brine in sheets, was barely audible amid the roar
and rush of the waters. At times, indeed, when the caravel sunk
helplessly between two huge waves, the fragment of sail she still
carried would flap, and the air seemed hushed and still; and then,
again, as the buoyant machine struggled upward, like a drowning man who
gains the surface by frantic efforts, it would seem as if the columns of
air were about to bear her off before them, as lightly as the driving
spray. Even Luis, albeit little apt to take alarm, felt that their
situation was critical, and his constitutional buoyancy of spirits had
settled down in a thoughtful gravity, that was unusual with him. Had a
column of a thousand hostile Moors stood before our hero, he would have
thought rather of the means of overturning it than of escape; but this
warring of the elements admitted of no such relief. It appeared actually
like contending with the Almighty. In such scenes, indeed, the bravest
find no means of falling back on their resolution and intrepidity; for
the efforts of man seem insignificant and bootless as opposed to the
will and power of God.
"'Tis a wild night, Senor," our hero observed calmly, preserving an
exterior of more unconcern than he really felt. "To me this surpasseth
all I have yet witnessed of the fury of a tempest."
Columbus sighed heavily; then he removed his hands from his face, and
glanced about him, as if in search of the implements he wanted.
"Count of Llera," he answered, with dignity, "there remaineth a solemn
duty to perform. There is parchment in the draw on your side of this
table, and here are the instruments for writing. Let us acquit ourselves
of this important trust while time is yet mercifully given us, God alone
knowing how long we have to live."
Luis did not blanch at these portentous words, but he looked earnest and
grave. Opening the draw, he took out the parchment and laid it upon the
table. The admiral now seized a pen, beckoning to his companion to take
another, and both commenced writing as well as the incessant motion of
the light caravel would allow. The task was arduous, but it was clearly
executed. As Columbus wrote a sentence, he repeated it to Luis, who
copied it word for word, on his own piece of parchment. The substance of
this record was the fact of the discoveries made, the latitude and
longitude of Espanola, with the relative positions of the other islands,
and a brief account of what he had seen. The letter was directed to
Ferdinand and Isabella. As soon as each had completed his account, the
admiral carefully enveloped his missive in a covering of waxed cloth,
Luis imitating him in all things. Each then took a large cake of wax,
and scooping a hole in it, the packet was carefully secured in the
interior, when it was covered with the substance that had been removed.
Columbus now sent for the cooper of the vessel, who was directed to
inclose each cake in a separate barrel. These vessels abound in ships;
and, ere many minutes, the two letters were securely inclosed in the
empty casks. Each taking a barrel, the admiral and our hero now appeared
again on the half-deck. So terrific was the night that no one slept, and
most of the people of the Nina, men as well as officers, were crowded
together on the gratings near the main-mast, where alone, with the
exception of the still more privileged places, they considered
themselves safe from being swept overboard. Indeed, even here they were
constantly covered with the wash of the sea, the poop itself not being
protected from rude visits of this nature.
As soon as the admiral was seen again, his followers crowded round him,
solicitous to hear his opinion, and anxious to learn his present object.
To have told the truth would have been to introduce despair where hope
had already nearly ceased; and, merely intimating that he performed a
religious vow, Columbus, with his own hands, cast his barrel into the
hissing ocean. That of Luis was placed upon the poop, in the expectation
that it would float, should the caravel sink.
Three centuries and a half have rolled by since Columbus took this wise
precaution, and no tidings have ever been obtained of that cask. Its
buoyancy was such that it might continue to float for ages. Covered with
barnacles, it may still be drifting about the waste of waters, pregnant
with its mighty revelations. It is possible, it may have been repeatedly
rolled upon some sandy beach, and as frequently swept off again; and it
may have been passed unheeded on a thousand occasions, by different
vessels, confounded with its vulgar fellows that are so often seen
drifting about the ocean. Had it been found, it would have been opened;
and had it been opened by any civilized man, it is next to impossible
that an occurrence of so much interest should have been totally lost.
This duty discharged, the admiral had leisure to look about him. The
darkness was now so great, that, but for the little light that was
disengaged from the troubled water, it would have been difficult to
distinguish objects at the length of the caravel. No one, who has merely
been at sea in a tall ship, can form any just idea of the situation of
the Nina. This vessel, little more than a large felucca, had actually
sailed from Spain with the latine rig, that is so common to the light
coasters of southern Europe; a rig that had only been altered in the
Canaries. As she floated in a bay, or a river, her height above the
water could not have exceeded four or five feet, and now that she was
struggling with a tempest, in a cross sea, and precisely in that part of
the Atlantic where the rake of the winds is the widest, and the tumult
of the waters the greatest, it seemed as if she were merely some aquatic
animal, that occasionally rose to the surface to breathe. There were
moments when the caravel appeared to be irretrievably sinking into the
abyss of the ocean; huge black mounds of water rising around her in all
directions, the confusion in the waves having destroyed all the ordinary
symmetry of the rolling billows. Although so much figurative language
has been used, in speaking of mountainous waves, it would not be
exceeding the literal truth to add, that the Nina's yards were often
below the summits of the adjacent seas, which were tossed upward in so
precipitous a manner, as to create a constant apprehension of their
falling in cataracts on her gratings; for mid-ship-deck, strictly
speaking, she had none. This, indeed, formed the great source of danger;
since one falling wave might have filled the little vessel, and carried
her, with all in her, hopelessly to the bottom. As it was, the crests of
seas were constantly tumbling inboard, or shooting athwart the hull of
the caravel, in sheets of glittering foam, though happily, never with
sufficient power to overwhelm the buoyant fabric. At such perilous
instants, the safety of the craft depended on the frail tarpaulings. Had
these light coverings given way, two or three successive waves would
infallibly have so far filled the hold, as to render the hull
water-logged; when the loss of the vessel would have followed as an
inevitable consequence.
The admiral had ordered Vicente Yanez to carry the foresail close
reefed, in the hope of dragging the caravel through this chaos of
waters, to a part of the ocean where the waves ran more regularly. The
general direction of the seas, too, so far as they could be said to have
a general direction at all, had been respected, and the Nina had
struggled onward--it might be better to say, waded onward--some five or
six leagues, since the disappearance of the day, and found no change. It
was getting to be near midnight, and still the surface of the ocean
presented the same wild aspect of chaotic confusion. Vicente Yanez
approached the admiral, and declared that the bark could no longer bear
the rag of sail she carried.
"The jerk, as we rise on the sea, goes near to pull the stern out of the
craft," he said; "and the backward flap, as we settle into the troughs,
is almost as menacing. The Nina will bear the canvas no longer, with
safety."
"Who has seen aught of Martin Alonzo within the hour?" demanded
Columbus, looking anxiously in the direction in which the Pinta ought to
be visible. "Thou hast lowered the lantern, Vicente Yanez."
"It would stand the hurricane no longer. From time to time it hath been
shown, and each signal hath been answered by my brother."
"Let it be shown once more. This is a moment when the presence of a
friend gladdens the soul, even though he be helpless as ourselves."
The lantern was hoisted, and, after a steady gaze, a faint and distant
light was seen glimmering in the rack of the tempest. The experiment was
repeated, at short intervals, and as often was the signal answered, at
increasing distances, until the light of their consort was finally lost
altogether.
"The Pinta's mast is too feeble to bear even its gear, in such a gale,"
observed Vicente Yanez; "and my brother hath found it impossible to keep
as near the wind as we have done. He goes off more to leeward."
"Let the foresail be secured," answered Columbus, "as thou say'st. Our
feeble craft can no longer bear these violent surges."
Vicente Yanez now mustered a few of his ablest men, and went forward
himself to see this order executed. At the same moment the helm was
righted, and the caravel slowly fell off, until she got dead before the
gale. The task of gathering in the canvas was comparatively easy, the
yard being but a few feet above the deck, and little besides the clews
being exposed. Still it required men of the firmest nerve and the
readiest hands to venture aloft at such an instant. Sancho took one side
of the mast and Pepe the other, both manifesting such qualities as mark
the perfect seaman only.
The caravel was now drifting at the mercy of the winds and waves, the
term scudding being scarcely applicable to the motion of a vessel so
low, and which was so perfectly sheltered from the action of the wind by
the height of the billows. Had the latter possessed their ordinary
regularity, the low vessel must have been pooped; but, in a measure, her
exemption from this calamity was owing to an irregularity that was only
the source of a new danger. Still, the Nina drove ahead, and that
swiftly, though not with the velocity necessary to outstrip the chasing
water, had the waves followed with their customary order and regularity.
The cross seas defeated this; wave meeting wave, actually sending those
crests, which otherwise would have rolled over in combing foam, upward
in terrific _jets d'eau_.
This was the crisis of the danger. There was an hour when the caravel
careered amid the chaotic darkness with a sort of headlong fury, not
unfrequently dashing forward with her broadside to the sea, as if the
impatient stern was bent on overtaking the stem, and exposing all to the
extreme jeopardy of receiving a flood of water on the beam. This
imminent risk was only averted by the activity of the man at the helm,
where Sancho toiled with all his skill and energy, until the sweat
rolled from his brow, as if exposed again to the sun of the tropics. At
length the alarm became so great and general, that a common demand was
made to the admiral to promise the customary religious oblations. For
this purpose, all but the men at the helm assembled aft, and
preparations were made to cast lots for the penance.
"Ye are in the hands of God, my friends," said Columbus, "and it is meet
that ye all confess your dependence on his goodness, placing your
security on his blessings and favor alone. In this cap which ye see in
the hands of the Senor de Munos, are the same number of peas that we are
of persons. One of these peas bears the mark of the Holy Cross, and he
who shall draw forth this blessed emblem, stands pledged to make a
pilgrimage to Santa Maria de Guadalupe, bearing a waxen taper of five
pounds weight. As the chiefest sinner among you, no less than as your
admiral, the first trial shall be mine."
Here Columbus put his hand into the cap, and on drawing forth a pea, and
holding it to the lantern, it was found to bear on its surface the mark
he had mentioned.
"This is well, Senor," said one of the pilots; "but replace the pea, and
let the chance be renewed for a still heavier penance, and that at a
shrine which is most in request with all good Christians; I mean that of
our Lady of Loretto. One pilgrimage to that shrine is worth two to any
other."
In moments of emergency, the religious sentiment is apt to be strong;
and this proposition was seconded with warmth. The admiral cheerfully
consented; and when all had drawn, the marked pea was found in the hands
of a common seaman, of the name of Pedro de Villa; one who bore no very
good name for either piety or knowledge.
"'Tis a weary and costly journey," grumbled the chosen penitent, "and
cannot cheaply be made."
"Heed it not, friend Pedro," answered Columbus; "the bodily pains shall
limit thy sufferings, for the cost of the journey shall be mine. This
night groweth more and more terrific, good Bartolemeo Roldan."
"That doth it, Senor Admiral, and I am little content with such a
pilgrim as Pedro here, although it may seem as if heaven itself directed
the choice. A mass in Santa Clara de Moguer, with a watcher all night in
that chapel, will be of more account than your distant journeys made by
such an one as he."
This opinion wanted not for supporters among the seamen of Moguer, and a
third trial was made to determine the person. Again the pea was
withdrawn from the cap by the admiral. Still the danger did not
diminish, the caravel actually threatening to roll over amid the
turbulence of the waves.
"We are too light, Vicente Yanez," said Columbus, "and, desperate as the
undertaking seemeth, we must make an effort to fill our empty casks with
sea-water. Let hose be carefully introduced beneath the tarpaulings, and
send careful hands below to make sure that the water does not get into
the hold instead of the casks."
This order was obeyed, and several hours passed in efforts to execute
this duty. The great difficulty was in protecting the men who raised the
water from the sea, for, while the whole element was raging in such
confusion around them, it was no easy matter to secure a single drop in
a useful manner. Patience and perseverance, however, prevailed in the
end, and, ere the light returned, so many empty casks had been filled,
as evidently to aid the steadiness of the vessel. Toward morning it
rained in torrents, and the wind shifted from south to west, losing but
little of its force, however. At this juncture the foresail was again
got on the bark, and she was dragged by it, through a tremendous sea, a
few miles to the eastward.
When the day dawned, the scene was changed for the better. The Pinta was
nowhere to be seen, and most in the Nina believed she had gone to the
bottom. But the clouds had opened a little, and a sort of mystical
brightness rested on the ocean, which was white with foam, and still
hissing with fury. The waves, however, were gradually getting to be more
regular, and the seamen no longer found it necessary to lash themselves
to the vessel, in order to prevent being washed overboard. Additional
sail was got on the caravel, and, as her motion ahead increased, she
became steadier, and more certain in all her movements.
[Illustration]