Without moving you've beckoned him."

There approached a young man of whom I knew something, having had him
pointed out by Enrique de Cerda in Santa Fe. I had before that heard his
name and somewhat of his exploits. In our day, over all Spain, one might
find or hear of cavaliers of this brand. War with the Moor had lasted
somewhat longer than the old famed war with Troy. It had modeled youth;
young men were old soldiers. When there came up a sprite like this one
he drank war like wine. A slight young man, taut as a rope in a gale,
with dark eyes and red lips and a swift, decisive step, up he came.

"Oh, you are the man who lived out of all your fort? How did you manage
it?"

"I had a friend among these friendly Indians who rescued me."

"Yes! It is excellent warfare to have friends.--You have seen no knight
nor men-at-arms, nor heard of such?"

"Not under those names."

"How far do you think we may be from true houses and cities, castles,
fortresses?"

"I haven't the least idea. By the looks of it, pretty far."

"It seems to me that you speak truth," he answered. "Well, it isn't what
we looked for, but it's something! Room yet to dare!" Off he went, half
Mercury, half Mars, and a sprig of youth to draw the eyes.

"Was there nothing ever heard," I asked Luis, "of the _Pinta_ and Martin
Pinzon?"

"He is dead."

"You saw the wreck?"

"No, not that way, though true it is that he wrecked himself! I forget
that you know nothing. We met the _Pinta_ last January, not a day from
here, with Monte Cristi there yet in sight. When he came aboard and sat
in the great cabin I do not know what he said, except that it was of
separation by that storm, and the feeling that two parties discovering
would thereby discover the more, and the better serve their Majesties.
The Admiral made no quarrel with him. He had some gold and some news of
coasts that we had not seen. And he did not seem to think it necessary
to seem penitent or anything but just naturally Martin Pinzon. So on we
sailed together, he on the _Pinta_ and the Admiral on the _Nina_. But
that was a rough voyage home over Ocean-Sea! Had we had such weather
coming, might have been mutiny and throat-cutting and putting back,
Cathay and India being of no aid to dead men! Six times at least we
thought we were drowned, and made vows, kneeling all together and the
Admiral praying for us, Fray Ignatio not being there. Then came clear,
but beyond Canaries a three days', thr