If
the stream was a considerable one, canoes. They had parrots;
they had the small silent dogs. In some places we saw
clay pots and bowls. They wove their cotton, though not
very skillfully. They crushed their maize in hand mills. We
found caciques and butios, and heard of their main cacique,
Gwarionex. But he did not come to meet us; they said he
had gone on a visit to Caonabo in Cibao. They brought us
food and took our gifts in exchange; they harangued us in
answer to our harangues; they made dances for us. The
children thronged around, fearless now and curious. The
women were kind. Old men and women together, and sometimes
more women than men, sat in a council ring about some
venerable tree.
There was no quarrel and no oppression upon this adventure.
I look back and I see that single journey in Hispaniola
a flower and pattern of what might be.
They gave us what gold they had--freely--and we gave
in return things that they prized. But always they said
Cibao for gold.
We rode and marched afoot, with many halts and turns
aside, five leagues across plain. A large river barred our
way,--the Yaqui they called it. Here we spent two days
in a village a bowshot from the water. We searched for
gold, we sent from Indian to Indian rumor that it was the
highest magic, god-magic that of all things in the world we
most desired and took it from their hands, yet still we paid
for it in goods for which they lusted, and we neither forced
nor threatened force.
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