We went to the Marigalante, I with the Admiral.
Dancing across in the boat there spoke to me Don Diego
Colon, born Giacomo Colombo, and I found him a sober,
able man, with a churchly inclination. Here rose
the Marigalante, and now we were upon it, and it was
a greater ship than the Santa Maria, a goodly
ship, with goodly gear aboard and goodly Spaniards.
Jayme de Marchena felt the tug of blood, of home-coming
into his country.
FINDING young Sancho upon the Marigalante,
I kept him beside me for information’s sake.
He, too, had his stories. And he asked me how
Pedro and Fernando died.
In this ship were two sets of captives, animals brought
from Spain and Indians from those fiercer islands to
the south. The Monsalvat that was a freight
ship had many animals, said Sancho, cattle and swine
and sheep and goats and cocks and hens, and thirty
horses. But upon the Marigalante, well-penned,
the Admiral had a stallion and two mares, a young
bull and a couple of heifers, and two dogs —bloodhounds.
The Caribs were yonder, five men in all.
He took me to see them. They were tall, strong,
sullen and desperate in aspect, hardier, fiercer than
Indians of these northward lands. But they were
Indians, and their guttural speech could be made out,
at least in substance. They asked with a high,
contemptuous look when we meant to slay and eat them.
“They eat men’s flesh, every Caribal of
them! We saw horrid things in Guadaloupe!”
Away from these men sat or stood seven women.
“They were captives,” said Sancho.
“Caribs had ravished them from other islands
and they fled in Guadaloupe to us.”
These women, too, seemed more strongly fibred, courageous,
high of head than the Hayti women. There was among
them one to whom the others gave deference, a chieftainess,
strong and warlike in mien, not smoothly young nor
after their notions beautiful, but with an air of
sagacity and pride. A ship boy stood with us.
“That is Catalina,” he said. “Ho,
Catalina!”
The woman looked at him with disdain and what she
said was, “Young fool with fool-gods!”
“They came to us for refuge,” said Sancho.
“We think they are Amazons. There was an
island where they fought us like men—great
bow-women! Don Alonso de Ojeda first called this
one Catalina, so now we all call her Catalina.
At first they liked us, but now that they are safe
away from Caribs—all but these five and
they can’t hurt them— they sit and
pine! I call it ungrateful, Catalina!”
We moved away. There came from the great cabin
where they had wine and fine sweet cakes the Admiral
and Guacanagari, with them Don Diego and three or
four cavaliers. Guarin was not with the cacique,
upon the Marigalante. He would not come.
I had a vision of him, in the forest, seated motionless,
communing with the deepest self to which he could
reach, seeking light with the other light-seekers.
