_The fatigues I had to undergo, until my arrival in the town of
Trinidad._
I have already above related that I with some other soldiers who had not
quite recovered from our wounds remained behind in the Havannah. As soon
as the latter began to heal a little we three made up our minds to go in
company with a certain Pedro d'Avila, an inhabitant of the Havannah, to
the town of Trinidad. This man was going to make a voyage in a canoe
along the south coast, and had taken a lading of cotton shirts, which he
intended to dispose of in Trinidad. As I have above stated, these canoes
are hollowed out of the trunks of trees, after the manner of our bakers'
troughs: in this country they are used for coasting; and we had to pay
Pedro d'Avila ten doubloons for the voyage.
As we were coasting along, sometimes rowing, sometimes sailing, we
arrived after the eleventh day in sight of an Indian village, subject to
the Spaniards, and called Cannareon; there arose at night-time such a
terrible gale of wind, that, although we rowed with all our strength, we
could not keep the sea any longer. Notwithstanding every exertion of
Pedro d'Avila, of some Indians from the Havannah, and several other good
rowers we had with us, nothing at last remained but to run the canoe
aground between the steep rocks. The canoe was dashed to pieces, the
whole lading of Pedro d'Avila went to the bottom, and we made the best
of our way on shore, naked as the day we were born, our bodies cut and
bruised all over by clambering over the rocks, for we had stripped
ourselves of our clothes in order to be the better able to swim, and
also, if possible, to save the canoe. As we had only escaped with our
lives among these rocks, none other choice was left us than to continue
our road over them to Trinidad, which lay along the coast through a
barren country full of rugged rocks, where our feet soon became
blistered and wounded; as to think of getting anything to eat was quite
out of the question; while we had continually to struggle with a
terrific gale of wind and the sea breaking over the rocks. Although we
had not neglected to cover our bodies as much as possible with leaves
and herbs, we nevertheless got sore boils between our legs, which bled
very much. At last we could proceed no further; for the sharp stones had
covered our feet with wounds: we managed, however, with considerable
trouble to reach a more elevated spot. None of us having his sword left,
we contrived by means of sharp stones to loosen the bark of some trees
and bind it as well as we could under the soles of our feet, with the
tendrils of climbers, which grew among the wood. And in this way, after
suffering great fatigues we reached a sandy district on the coast,
whence in a couple of days we arrived in the Indian village Yeguarama,
at that time the property of Bartholomeus de las Casas,[3] who was a
priest. I knew him afterwards when he belonged to the order of the
Dominicans, and became bishop of Chiopia. Here the Indians gave us to
eat, and on the following day we arrived at another village, called
Chipiona, which was the joint property of Alonso de Avila, and of
Sandoval, but this was not the captain of the same name who gained such
vast renown in New Spain. From this place we at last came to Trinidad,
where I had an acquaintance, by name Antonio de Medina, who provided me
with a suit of clothes as they were worn in that town; my comrades were
similarly provided by other of the inhabitants. Quite worn out by
fatigue and miserably poor, I set off for Santiago de Cuba, where the
governor Diego Velasquez resided. He was just then busily engaged
fitting out another squadron, and was highly delighted at seeing me
again when I called upon him, for we were related to each other: and as
one word led to another, he asked me if my wounds were sufficiently
healed to make another trip to Yucatan? I could not help smiling at this
and said, who gave the country that name? for the natives do not call it
so. "So Melchior, whom you brought with you, calls it," resumed he.
"Call it rather, (said I,) the land where they killed one half of our
men and wounded the other." "Well, (said he,) if you have undergone many
fatigues, you have only shared the same fate with all others who have
ventured out on the discovery of new countries. But, on the other hand,
you will not fail to be highly honoured and rewarded by his majesty the
king, to whom I will transmit a faithful account of all this.
Therefore, my friend, you may in all safety join yourself to the
squadron I am now fitting out, and I will take care that you shall have
an honorable post." What further happened I will next relate.
[3] This is the celebrated Las Casas, the protector of the rights of the
Indians. (p. 18.)