At the sound there seemed
to come a cry from the fringing wood, a cry of terror.
The island was ours,--if all this could make it ours.
A piece of scarlet cloth spread upon the sand had heaped
upon it necklaces of glass and three or four hawk bells
with other toys. We placed it there, then stood back. At
the Admiral's command the harquebus and crossbow men
laid their weapons down, though watchful eye was kept.
But no arrow flights had come from the wood, and as far
as could be seen some kind of lance, not formidable looking,
was their only weapon. Next the Admiral made our fifer to
play a merry and peaceful air.
We had noted a clump of trees advanced into the sand
and we thought that the bolder men were occupying this.
Now a man started out alone, a young man by the looks of
him, drawn as he was against the white sand, and a paladin,
for he marched to meet alone he knew not what or whom.
"Blackamoor!" exclaimed De Arana beside me, but as he
came nearer we saw that the dead blackness was paint, laid
in a fantastic pattern upon his face and body. Native hue
of skin, as we came presently to find in the unpainted, was
a pleasing red-brown. He advanced walking daintily and
proudly, knowing that his people were watching him. Single
Castilian, single Moor, had advanced so, many a time, between
camps, or between camp and fortress.
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