Chapter XVII.
Another inhabited island is sighted, and it is related how three natives escaped from the ships, and other things that happened.
The ships were pursuing their course, when a certain person from the Almiranta shouted to the Captain that they should go in search of the Island of Santa Cruz. The Captain answered that the ships had to put their heads, as they were now put, to the S.E., with the intention of following that and other courses, for they now had sufficient wood and water to enable them to find what they were seeking. God had given us a N.W. wind, one as well suited for that intention as it sounds.
We stood on under little sail, for it was night, and the sea unknown, when towards dawn one of the natives sprang into the sea. He was a youth, but tall and vigorous, of good countenance and gentle bearing, whom the Captain prized highly for the ship. The sailors called as if he could understand them: “Come back to the ship; do not drown yourself. See how the Devil deceives him! Why should you lose so much good as surrounds you here?” But as his intention was different, not caring for words so little understood, he went on swimming to the island, which appeared to be about 3 leagues off.
We went on our way, and in the afternoon of the third day we saw an island[1] at a distance. We hove to for the night, and made sail towards it at daybreak. When we were near the land, the other native, also quite young and not less gay and well disposed, before he could be prevented, jumped overboard, and there remained, as if he was a buoy. At the place where he was, not caring for cries and menaces, with great effrontery, as if he was standing in the water, he took off a shirt he had on, and with incredible speed began swimming to the island, which he would soon reach, being near and to leeward. The Admiral was advised of the flight of the natives, that he might keep a closer watch over the two he had on board.
Only with the object of finding out whether the island was inhabited, we coasted along it. Presently, on an extensive beach, we saw natives running to join others who were looking at us. The Admiral got into the dingey to see what sort of people they were. The natives made signs, with great demonstrations of love, for us to come on shore. Seeing we would not for all their pressing, they gave a mantle of fine palm leaves and notice of other lands, and bade farewell with great signs of regret. We left them in that solitude, gazing at our ships, until we lost sight of them.
Our people were much pleased at the sight of the island, and still more to see such fine-looking people: but suddenly one of the two natives on board the Almiranta, a tall, robust, and strong man, jumped into the sea, and soon was a long way off. They lowered the dingey, but the Captain fired a piece off as a signal that they were not to go after the fugitive, the boat being small and easily capsized. The resolute swimmer went on towards the island with vigorous strokes, being 2 leagues off and to windward.
[1] Torres calls it “Chucupia.” The Memorial has “Tucopia.” Quiros gives the latitude 12° 15′ S.; Torres, 12° 30′ S. Undoubtedly, the Tucopia of modern charts, in 12° 15′ S. and 169° 50′ E.