"The good
Queen came to me and she had in her hand a picture of five
stout ships. Out of her lips came a singing voice. `Master
Christopherus, Master Christopherus, these wait for you,
riding in Cadiz harbor! But now will you slay your son
and your brother and all your men?' Then she said, `The
strait is hidden for a while,' and went."
That day we turned. "We will go back to Veragua and
lade with gold, and then we'll sail to Jamaica and to Hispaniola
where this time we shall be welcome! Then to Spain
where the Queen will give me a stronger fleet."
Our ships hailed the turning. Even the Adelantado, even
Diego Mendez and Juan Sanchez and Bartholomew Fiesco
who were of the boldest drew long breath as of men respited
from death.
Not so many have known and lived to tell of such weather
as now we met and in it rolled from wave to wave through
a long month.
Would we put to land we were beaten back. We had
never seen such waves, and at times they glowed with cold
fire. The sea with the wind twisted, danced and shouted.
We were deaf with thunder and blind with lightning. When
the rain descended, it was as though an upper ocean were
coming down. A little surcease, then return of the tempest,
like return of Polyphemus. Men died from drowning, and,
I think, from pure fright. One day the clouds drove down,
the sea whirled up.
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