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Johnston, Mary, 1870-1936

"1492"

--And then,
out of the blue, arose first Diego de Escobar's small ship,
and later the two good ships sent by Don Nicholas de
Ovando.

The Admiral of the Ocean-Sea lodged in the Governor's
house in San Domingo. Who so courteous as Don Nicholas,
saving only Don Cristoval?
Juan Lepe found certain ones and his own eyes to tell
him of island fortunes. Here was Sancho, a bearded man,
and yet looked out the youth who had walked from Fishertown
to Palos strand. "Oh, aye! San Domingo's growing!
It's to be as great as Seville, with cathedral and fortress and
palace. White men build fast, though not so fast as the
Lord!"
"The Governor?"
"Oh, he makes things spin! He's hard on the Indians--
but then they've surely given us trouble!"
He told of new forts and projected towns and an increasing
stream of ships, from Spain to Spain again. "We're
here to stay--as long as there's a rock of gold or anything
that can be turned into gold! The old bad times
are over--and that old, first simple joy, too, Doctor!--
Maybe we'll all ship for Ciguarre."
But no. The colony now was firm, with thousands of
Spaniards where once had stood fivescore. Luis Torres sat
with me and he told me of Indian war,--of Anacaona
hanged and Cotubanama hanged, of eighty caciques burned
or hanged, of _peace_ at last. Now the Indians worked the
mines, and scraped the sands of every stream, and likewise
planted cotton and maize for the conquerors.


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