n
their backs and the baskets filled with gold! The baskets are so great
and the gold so heavy that the Indians are bowed down till they go on
all fours. Gold,--a mountain of pure gold and every Spaniard in Spain
and a few Italians--golden kings--" When we had all we could get, up
sail and on!

Sail on and on along the golden coast of Veragua! Come to a river and
land, for all that again we heard drums and those great shells strongly
blown. Make peace and trade. And here again was gold, gold, gold. We
were now assured that the main was far richer than any island. Turbulent
hope,--that was the chief lading now of the four ships. Gold! Gold!
Golden moon disks and golden rude figures. We found a lump of gold
wrought like a maize ear.

What was beyond that, by itself under trees, we found an ancient,
broken, true wall, stone and lime. The stones were great ones, set
truly, with care. The wall was old; the remainder of house, if house or
temple there had been, broken from it. Now the forest overran all. We
did not know when or by whom it was built, and we found no more like it.
But here was true masonry. All of us said that the world of the main was
not the world of the islands.

Ciguarre. These Indians declared it was Ciguarre we should seek. Now
that we were in Veragua--seek Ciguarre.

So we sailed beyond Veragua hunting the strait which we must pass
through to Ganges and Ind of old history.

CHAPTER XLII

PUERTO BELLO! Beautiful truly, and a harbor where might ride a navy. But
no gold; and now came back very evilly the evil weather. Seven days a
blast rocked us. We strained eyes to see if the _Margarita_ yet lived.
The _San Sebastian_ likewise was in trouble. No break for seven days. It
was those enchanters of Cariari--magic asleep for a while but now awake!

Storm. And two ships nigh to foundering. When wind sank and blue came
back, we left Puerto Bello and turned again south by east, but now with
crazy, crazy ships, weather-wrenched and worm-eaten, _teredo_ pierced.
They looked old, so old, with their whipped and darkened sails. And
when we dropped anchor in some bight there was no gold, but all night we
heard that harsh blowing of shells and beating of drums.

Francisco and Diego de Porras, Alonso de Zamorra, Pedro de Villetoro,
Bernardo the Apothecary and others, the most upon the _Consolacion_,
others on the _Margarita_ and the _Juana_, now began to brew mutiny.

We sailed on, and upon this forlorn coa