ced ready for sea, and the business of getting her stores on
board was begun. It proceeded so rapidly that in one week more Fort
Caroline was dismantled of everything except its heavy guns and other
ponderous articles that must be left, and the day for departure was set.

Soon after daylight, one fine morning early in the new year, the
garrison marched on board the vessel. Laudonniere, protesting to the
last, and accompanied by his nephew and by the faithful Le Moyne, was
carried on board. Then the sails were spread to a gentle breeze, and
the little company, who had only a few months before built the fort
with such brave hearts and high hopes, sailed away from it, leaving it
to its fate, though with the broad banner of France still floating
above its walls. They expected, and even hoped, never to see it again,
and even the terrible voyage they were about to undertake in a small
and crazy craft seemed to them less fearful than a continuance of the
life from which they were escaping.

The only farewells sent after them came in the shape of a few arrows
shot at the ship by the angry savages who lined the river-bank, and
sullenly watched the departure of their intended victims.

That day they sailed to the mouth of the river, but found so great a
sea rolling in over its bar that they dared not attempt a passage
through it, and were therefore forced to drop anchor while still within
shelter of the land, and await its abatement.

CHAPTER XIII

ARRIVAL OF JEAN RIBAULT

As the fugitives from Fort Caroline lay inside the mouth of the River
of May, awaiting the calming of the great seas that broke in columns
and hills of foam on its bar, and for a favorable wind with which to
put out to sea, they attempted to strengthen their crazy vessel and
render her more seaworthy. Already her seams, calked with moss and
pitch, had opened in so many places that she leaked badly, and only
constant labor at the pumps kept her afloat.

Laudonniere had no hope of a successful termination of their voyage,
and as he shared his fears with Le Moyne and Rene de Veaux, these three
found little consolation in the thought of leaving the river and
embarking upon the turbulent sea that promised them only a grave. They
had no choice, however, but to go on with the rest; for to remain
behind would be to fall into the hands of the savages, and thus meet
with a more terrible death than that offered by the sea.

For several days they await