With threescore of our strongest, the Adelantado pushed
again up the river of Veragua, too rough and shallow for
our ships. He visited Quibian; he traded for gold; he was
taken far inland and from a hill observed a country of the
noblest, vale and mountain and Indian smokes. The mountains,
the Indians said, were packed with gold. He brought
back much gold, Indians bearing it for him in deep baskets
that they made.
Quibian paid us a visit, looked sullenly around, and left
us. Not in the least was he Guacanagari! But neither,
quite yet, did he turn into Caonabo.
The Admiral sat pondering, his hands before him between
his knees, his gray-blue eyes looking further than the far
mountains. Later, on the shore, he and the Adelantado
walked up and down under palm trees. The crews watched
them, knowing they were planning.
What they planned came forth the next day, and it was
nothing short of a colony, a settlement upon the banks of
the river Bethlehem.
Christopherus Columbus spoke,--tall, powerful, gaunt,
white-headed, gray-eyed, trusted because he himself so
trusted, suasive, filled with the power of his vision. His
frame was growing old, but he himself stayed young. His
voice never grew old, nor the gray-blue light from his eyes.
Here was gold at last, and Veragua manifestly richer than all
Hispaniola; aye, richer than Paria! Behind Veragua ran Ciguarre
that was fabulously rich, that was indeed India sloping
to Ganges.
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