there is madness over all this ship and this voyage and _him_--the
Admiral, I mean?"

I answered him that it was a pity there were so few madmen, and that
Felipe must have been quite sane.

"Then what do you think was the matter with Felipe, Senor?"

I said, "Did it ever occur to you, Fernando, that you had too much
courage and saw too far?" At which he looked frightened, and said that
at times he had felt those symptoms.

CHAPTER XXI

MARTIN PINZON did not return to us. That tall, blond sea captain was
gone we knew not where. The _Santa Maria_ and the Nina sailed south
along the foot of Cuba. But now rose out of ocean on our southeast
quarter a great island with fair mountain shapes. We asked our
Indians--we had five aboard beside Diego Colon--what it was. "Bohio!
Bohio!" But when we came there, its own inhabitants called it Hayti and
Quisquaya.

The Admiral paced our deck, small as a turret chamber, his hands behind
him, his mind upon some great chart drawn within, not without. At last,
having decided, he called Juan de la Cosa. "We will go to Bohio."

So it was done whereby much was done, the Woman with the distaff
spinning fast, fast!

As this island lifted out of ocean, we who had said of Cuba, "It is the
fairest!" now said, "No, this is the fairest!" It was most beautiful,
with mountains and forests and vales and plains and rivers.

The twelfth day of December we came to anchor in a harbor which the
Admiral named Concepcion.

On this shore the Indians fled from us. We found a village, but quite
deserted. Not a woman, not a man, not a child! Only three or four of
those silent dogs, and a great red and green parrot that screamed but
said nothing. There was something in this day, I know not what, but it
made itself felt. The Admiral, kneeling, kissed the soil, and he named
the island Hispaniola, and we planted a cross.

For long we had been beaten about, and all aboard the ships were well
willing to leave them for a little. We had a dozen sick and they craved
the shore and the fruit trees. Our Indians, too, longed. So we anchored,
and mariners and all adventurers rested from the sea. A few at a time,
the villagers returned, and fearfully enough at first. But we had harmed
nothing, and what greatness and gentleness was in us we showed it here.
Presently all thought they were at home with us, and that heaven bred
the finest folk!

Our people of Hispaniola, subjects now, since the planting of the fl