e swans. When they were fairly near, when in little time the
foremost would bring to, down sail and drop anchor, Juan Lepe, gathering
his belongings together, bidding the lizard farewell and taking the
parrot with him on shoulder, left cavern and cliff and took Guarin's
path down through the forest.
Halfway to level land he met Guarin coming up; the two met beneath a
tree huge and spreading, curtained with a vine, starred with flowers.
"He has come!" cried the Indian. "They have come!" In his voice was
marveling, awe, perturbation.
The sun in the sky shone, and in the bay hung that wonder of return,
the many ships for the _Nina_. Juan Lepe and Guarin went on down through
wood to a narrow silver beach, out upon which had cast itself an Indian
village.
Guacanagari was not here. He waited within his house for the Admiral.
But his brother, and others of Guarico, saw me and there rose a clamor
and excitement that for the moment took them from the ships. Guarin
explained and Juan Lepe explained, but still this miraculous day dyed
also for them my presence here. I had been slain, and had come to life
to greet the Great Cacique! It grew to a legend. I met it so, long
afterwards in Hispaniola.
CHAPTER XXVII
ONE by one were incoming, were folding wings, were anchoring, Spanish
ships. Three were larger each than the _Santa Maria_ and the _Pinta_
together; the others caravels of varying size. Seventeen in all, a
fleet, crowded with men, having cannon and banners and music. Europe was
coming with strength into Asia! The Indians on the beach were moved as
by an unresting wind. They had terror, they had delight, and some a mere
stupidity of staring. The greatest ship, the first to anchor, carried
the banner of Castile and Leon, and the Admiral's banner. Now a boat put
off from her, boats also from the two ships next in grandeur.
As they came over the blue wave Juan Lepe stepped down sand to water
edge. Not here, but somewhat to the west, before La Navidad would one
look for this anchoring. He thought rightly that the Admiral came here
from La Navidad, where he found only ruin, but also some straying Indian
who could give news. So it was, for presently in the foremost boat I
made out two Guarico men. They had told of Caonabo and of Guacanagari's
fortunes, and of every Spaniard dead of that illness or slain by
Caonabo. They would put Juan Lepe among these last, but here was Juan
Lepe, one only left of that thirty-eight.
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