Cinnamon, nutmeg,
pepper, saffron, cloves and others. He made the islander
smell and taste. "Had they aught like these?"
The Indian seemed to say they had not, but would like
to have. He looked about for something with which to
trade, a parrot, or heap of cakes, or ball of cotton. I
thought that it was the box of boxes that he extremely
wished, but the Admiral thought it was the spicery, and
that he must have known them wherever he got the gold.
"Were they found yonder?"
The Admiral stretched arm out over blue sea and the
Indian followed his gesture. He shot out his own arm,
"South--southwest--west," nodded the Admiral. "Many
islands, or the mainland. Gates open before us!"
"Had the Indian been to these lands?" No, it seemed,
but one had come in a boat, wearing this knob of gold,
and he had told them. Was he living? No, he was not
living. What kind of a person was he? Such as us?
Emphatically no. Not such as us! Much, we gathered, as
was the Indian himself. "Pearls have come from Queen's
neck to Queen's neck," quoth the Admiral, "by a thousand
rude hands and twisting ways!"
There was one woman among the visitors to the _Santa
Maria_, a young woman, naked, freely moving and smiling.
Eyes dwelled on her, eyes followed her. She was with an
Indian who might be brother or husband. The Admiral
gave her a worked, Moorish scarf.
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