across our
pages in a sensation of intrepid feats of arms that make his great
popularity among the Spaniards easily credible to us. He did not know
what fear was; he was always ready for a fight of any kind; a quarrel in
the streets of Madrid, a duel, a fight with a man or a wild beast,
a brawl in a tavern or a military expedition, were all the same to him,
if only they gave him an opportunity for fighting. He had a little
picture of the Virgin hung round his neck, by which he swore, and to
which he prayed; he had never been so much as scratched in all his
affrays, and he believed that he led a charmed life. Who would go out
against Caonabo, the Goliath of the island? He, little David Ojeda, he
would go out and undertake to fetch the giant back with him; and all he
wanted was ten men, a pair of handcuffs, a handful of trinkets, horses
for the whole of his company, and his little image or picture of the
Virgin.

Columbus may have smiled at this proposal, but he knew his man; and Ojeda
duly departed with his horses and his ten men. Plunging into the forest,
he made his way through sixty leagues of dense undergrowth until he
arrived in the very heart of Caonabo's territory and presented himself at
the chiefs house. The chief was at home, and, not unimpressed by the
valour of Ojeda, who represented himself as coming on a friendly mission,
received him under conditions of truce. He had an eye for military
prowess, this Caonabo, and something of the lion's heart in him; he
recognised in Ojeda the little man who kept him so long at bay outside
Fort St. Thomas; and, after the manner of lion-hearted people, liked him
none the worse for that.

Ojeda proposes that the King should accompany him to Isabella to make
peace. No, says Caonabo. Then Ojeda tries another way. There is a
poetical side to this big fighting savage, and often in more friendly
days, when the bell in the little chapel of Isabella has been ringing for
Vespers, the cacique has been observed sitting alone on some hill
listening, enchanted by the strange silver voice that floated to him
across the sunset. The bell has indeed become something of a personality
in the island: all the neighbouring savages listen to its voice with awe
and fascination, pausing with inclined heads whenever it begins to speak
from its turret.

Ojeda talks to Caonabo about the bell, and tells him what a wonderful
thing it is; tells him also that if he will come with him to Isab