hat the natives had neighbors who were cannibals, and that
they would greatly value the strangers' assistance in fighting them,
Vespucci came very near making a suggestion. He finally made it to Juan
de la Cosa instead of to Ojeda. The old pilot chuckled wisely.

"I've got past warning my young gentleman of danger ahead," he said
good-naturedly. "He can do without fighting just as well as a fish can
do without water. If I die trying to get him out of some scrape he has
plunged into head-first, it will be no more than I expect."

Ojeda was, in fact, spoiling for adventure, and joyfully set sail in the
direction of the Carib Islands. Seven coast natives were on board as
guides, and pointed out the island inhabited by their especial enemies.
The shore was lined with fierce-faced savages, painted and feathered,
armed with bows and arrows, lances and darts and bucklers. Ojeda
launched his boats, in each of which was a paterero, or small cannon,
with a number of soldiers crouching down out of sight. The armor of the
Spaniards protected them from the Indian arrows, while the cotton armor
of the savages and their light shields were no defense against
cannon-balls or crossbow-bolts.

When the barbarians leaped into the sea and attacked the boats the
cannon scattered them, but they rallied and fought more fiercely on
land. The Spaniards won that day's battle, but the dauntless islanders
were ready to renew the fight next morning. With his fifty-seven men
Ojeda routed the whole fighting force of the tribe, made many prisoners,
plundered and set fire to the villages, and returned to his ships. A
part of the spoil was bestowed on the seven friendly natives. Ojeda, who
had not received so much as a scratch, anchored in a bay for three weeks
to let his wounded recover. There were twenty-one wounded and one
Spaniard had been killed.

Sailing westward along the coast the fleet presently entered a vast gulf
like an inland sea, on the eastern side of which was a most curious
village. Ojeda could hardly believe the evidence of his own eyes. Twenty
large cone-shaped houses were built on piles driven into the bottom of
the lake, which in that part was clear and shallow. Each house had its
drawbridge, and communicated with its neighbors and with the shore by
means of canoes gliding along the water-ways between the piles. The
interpreters said it was called Coquibacoa.

"That is no proper name for so marvelous a place," said Ojeda after he