Quarrels—quarrels at Isabella. Two
main parties and all the lesser ones. Disease
and scarcity. Fray Geronimo arrived from St.
Thomas. He had stories. The Viceroy grew
dark red, his eyes lightened. Yet he believed
that what was told pertained to men of Margarite,
not to that cavalier himself. He wrote to Margarite—I
do not know what. But presently a plan arose
in his mind and was announced. Don Alonso de
Ojeda was to command St. Thomas. Don Pedro Margarite
should have a moving force of several hundred Castilians,
mainly for exploration, but at need for other things.
Going here and there about the country, it might impress
upon Caonabo that the Spaniard though gentle by nature,
was dangerous when aroused.
Alonso de Ojeda, three hundred men behind him, went
forth on his black horse, to trumpet and drum, very
gay and ready to go. In a week he sent into Isabella
six Indians in chains. These had set upon three
of Margarite’s men coming with a letter to the
Viceroy and had robbed them, though without doing
them bodily injury. Alonso de Ojeda had cut off
their ears and sent them all in heavily chained.
The Viceroy condemned them to be beheaded, but when
they were on their knees before the block reprieved
them, one by one. He kept them chained for a time
for all visiting Indians to see, then formally pardoned
them and let them go.
Matters quieted. Sickness again sank, a flood
retiring, leaving pools. Alonso de Ojeda and
Pedro Margarite reported peace in Hispaniola.
The Admiral came forth from his house one day and
said quietly to this one and that one that now he
meant again to take up Discovery.
He gave authority in Isabella to Don Diego, and made
him a council where sat Father Buil, Caravajal, Coronel
and Juan de Luxan. Then out of five ships we
took the Cordera, the Santa Clara and
the San Juan, and we set sail on April the
twenty-fourth.
CHAPTER XXXI
THE island, we learned, was named Jamaica. The
Admiral called it Santiago, but it also rests Jamaica.
Of all these lands, outside of the low, small islands
to which we came first, Cuba seemed to us the peaceable
land. Jamaica gave us almost Carib welcome.
Its folk had the largest canoes, the sharpest, toughest
lances. Perhaps they had heard from some bold
sea rover that we had come, but that we were not wholly
gods!
Our crossbow men shot amongst them. The arrows
failed to halt them, but when we sent a bloodhound
the dog did our work. It was to them what griffon
or fire-breathing dragon might be to a Seville throng.
When the creature sprang among them they uttered a
great cry and fled. Jamaica is most beautiful.
