Chapter XLVI

The journey made by the father provincial Fray Alonso Ximenez to Camboxa

[After father Fray Alonso Ximenez had completed his provincialate, he went to Camboxa to preach the gospel there. Circumstances seemed to make this absolutely necessary. In 1595 there came to the city of Manila as ambassadors from the king of Camboxa two soldiers—a Portuguese, named Diego Velloso; and a Castilian, a native of La Mancha, named Blas Ruiz de Fernan Goncales. The kingdom of Camboxa is on the mainland, like China and like Spain. The king asked the governor of Manila for soldiers to assist in the defense of his kingdom against the king of Siam, his neighbor; and also for Dominican friars, to preach the law of God in his kingdom. The people of Camboja have special knowledge of our order because of some religious, from the India of Portugal, who lived there a long time.[10] One of them, named Fray Silvestre, was so highly esteemed by the king that he had him about his person continually. The Portuguese, however, were unwilling to attempt the conversion of this region, because they thought, and quite properly, that they could not carry it on to advantage from India. The governor, in spite of the small force of soldiers which he had, and the religious order, although likewise they had but few laborers, decided to do what they could to fulfil the wishes of the king. The order accordingly appointed the father provincial, who was within a few months of the end of his term. The governor gave him the title of ambassador, associating with him in the embassy the commander of the forces, Captain Juan Xuarez Gallinato. Great difficulty was found in providing an ecclesiastical companion for the father provincial, as those who were at first suggested could not be spared from their duties. Finally I was appointed, accepting this duty in accordance with my vow of obedience. Three vessels were prepared for the expedition, one of them of Spanish build, the other two of the sort used in this country which are known as juncos. These are large boats, and carry a great deal of freight; but they are weakly built to meet the storms, and have very little rigging on their masts, and accordingly are easily lost in bad weather. A hundred and thirty soldiers were collected, most of them without permission of the governor, who had given his license for only forty. There were also some Japanese, who are too much given to rashness in war; and some Indians of this country, who on occasions of honor are very good auxiliaries. The leader of the expedition [i.e., Gallinato] commanded the frigate; Diego Velloso, the smaller junk, in which we religious went; and Blas Ruiz de Fernan Gonçalez, the larger, which contained most of the forces.[11] January 18, 1596, we set sail from the harbor of Manila, badly equipped and worse accommodated, as usually happens on such occasions. We went to the island of Luban,[12] fourteen leguas from the fort, to finish our preparations for the voyage, which, though it is but a short one (only two hundred leguas in length), is across a treacherous sea; for the best-fitted vessels often suffer severely upon it, much more so those which are poorly equipped, as were ours. The frigate and the smaller junk made port that night; but the larger junk was unable to enter, and was not to be seen in the morning. We assumed, as was true, that it had taken advantage of the favorable wind and proceeded with its journey. We were, however, anxious; because it was not well supplied with food or water, though it was better supplied than the other vessels. Two days afterward, we set sail; but on a calm sea, and with the wind fair, our mainmast snapped as if it had been made of candy. It was all rotten; and we were left like a cart on the water, with nothing but our foresail, and that very small. The flagship took us in tow and we towed a small boat with four Chinese sailors, which was the cause of no little trouble. We sailed in this way for eight days, the sea being calm. One night at the end of this time, the boat cable broke. The sailors that were in the boat called out for us to wait for them; and the flagship hove to, and began to sound while we were waiting for the boat. Finding bottom in forty brazas, they perceived that we were near the country of Camboja. In order to reach port early on the following day, they left us, thinking that in spite of the smallness of our sail we could reach there on the same day. The result, however, was not as was expected; for by bad navigation we had gone many leguas to leeward of the port. To make our way back there we had to sail against the wind. A storm arose soon after, and the flagship was obliged to run before the wind; it made port in Malaca, more than two hundred leguas to leeward of its destination, and was unable to return for three months. Our vessel could not make sail against the sea, being entirely unequipped, and good for nothing but to ask for the mercy of God. Under these circumstances fell the night between the eighth and ninth of February. We all supposed that this was the last of our days, and no man expected to see the next morning. The force of the wind drove us aground more than two leguas from shore; we had to cut away the stump of the mainmast, which was still standing, and to throw into the sea the rudder and everything there was in the ship. The boat, which might have saved us, was swamped; and the sailors who were in it got aboard the ship. The waves broke over the vessel, but could not sink it because it was already fast aground.] I sat all that night in the waist (for it was impossible to stand), confessing the Christians and catechizing the heathen. I baptized twenty-two of them, feeling that the great danger in which we were, authorized the act. When they had all received the sacraments, I encouraged them to the work which was necessary to keep us from perishing. Several times I went into the poop to confess myself, and to receive the confession of the holy old man, my provincial, who was there waiting for death—at the point of which we now were, with the rope, as they say, about our necks. We could do nothing but put up supplications and appeal from the justice to the mercy of God, by whom sentence of death seemed to have been issued upon us. It was, however, only a sentence of warning; and He accepted our prayer for the time, giving us hope that with His aid we might atone for our transgressions. The efficacy of God’s mercy we almost felt with our hands on this occasion; for death appeared to be actually upon us, making execution upon the lives of those who were there. We were somewhat encouraged by the hope of reaching the land which was so near to us; but we did not know what it was, and what we were to expect from it. If we had known, we would have preferred to die in the sea; for our sufferings in this way would have been less than those which we underwent by reaching the land. We were like those of whom Jeremiah speaks in his Lamentations, for whom it would have been better to have the lot of those who died with the sword at one stroke than of those whose lives were brought to an end by hunger; for the latter died a prolonged and painful death, being destroyed by the barrenness of the land. The barrenness of this coast was such that it greatly exceeded that of which Jeremiah speaks. It was such that no one would go to it, even to escape death, unless, like us, he was not acquainted with it. Finally those waves which were on their way to burst upon the shore pushed on the ship, which was practically empty, and went along as if it had been a dry stick. This was a result of the coming in of the tide, and when the tide ebbed afterwards, we were left aground, a cannon-shot from the sea; and we saw in the mud (of which all this coast is composed) the track of the ship like a trench, for the force of the sea as it rose had pushed it along, breaking a road in the very ground. On this same day the tide came in again with such fury, because it was a spring-tide, that it carried the ship up to the trees and even buffeted it about there with such violence that we were obliged to disembark for fear of perishing in it. When we were on shore, exploring parties went off in various directions. After they had made an arduous march, they brought back the news that it was a wilderness inhabited only by wild beasts, without any trace of a river or a spring, at least near the coast; and that the country within proved to be inaccessible because it was overflowed and very thickly overgrown. This news made us feel that the sea was less evil for us than such a land, and that the tortures which we had endured were slight compared with those to which we were exposed by this desired but unhappy landing. Since eating and drinking are a necessary and a daily obligation, and as our supply of food and drink was very small, while we were more than a hundred persons, we put forth all our energies to search for some remedy. As thirst was that from which we suffered most, we dug wells in the dryest parts we found, and when we met water, it was more salty than that of the sea. I declare, as one who has found out by experience, that the very dew which appeared in the morning on the leaves of the wild trees there, was salt. Hence since the land denied us the sustenance which we required, we determined to return to the sea, which had at least granted us our lives, and which now gave us greater hopes than the land of being able to preserve them. For this it was necessary to help ourselves by means of the unlucky ship which was stranded on the shore, for it had remained there after the spring tide was over. It had no masts, or sails, or rudder, or anything that could be used, because between losing them and perishing there had been no choice. To supply these, it was necessary to put our hands to the work, until it was finished. The most necessary thing to be done to the ship was to cut it down and fit it so that it would draw but little water, and might be rowed along the coast. Our relief was to be sought on land, but he who should find it had to seek for it by sea. We were not now planning for conquests or embassies, but for getting water—for which we would have given all that has been yielded by the hill of Potosi, if it had been ours. We spent ten days in getting the ship ready. We cast overboard all the upper works and a good part of the under works. We fitted to it twelve oars. In this way it was like a badly made galliot; rudder, masts, and sails we replaced by rowing. While some of us were at this work, others went to explore the country, doing their utmost in the search for water. Some of these came back very joyful, with good news, saying that about four leguas up the coast from there a great river ran up into the land; that where it flowed into the sea the water was salt, but that it must be fresh above. They also said that they had seen the footprints of men on the shore. The work was hurried on in the hope of satisfying our thirst, which was increased by it, and still more by the heat of that region; for we were in the most torrid part of the torrid zone, and had practically no defense or covering against the heat. The vessel, being of so light a draught, was easily launched; and embarking in it all that we had left of provisions and clothes, which was very little, we put forth one evening and entered the bight of the river of which we have spoken, reaching its mouth in the morning by hard rowing. We entered it with great delight, which was increased by the sight of a hut on the bank not far from the ocean. Though there was no one in it, we promised ourselves large towns when we saw it, and even assured ourselves of certain news of our companions, of whom as yet we knew nothing, nor they of us. But within a few days we found out the deceit and lost our joy in it. After going for three days up the river, we constantly found the water salt like that of the sea, whose arm it was, and not a river. Upon its banks on either side there was nothing but impassable undergrowth. At last we reached a point from which we could not go further up, because the seeming river divided into so many little creeks that the ship had not room in any of them. The change from the false hope of water and of towns, which had possessed our minds, served to redouble our misery; since now, as it seemed to us, we had lost the hope of relief by land or by sea. Our necessity had now reached such an extreme that the food was distributed by ounces, and the drink almost by drops—though the labor of rowing, each man in his turn (from which no one was excused), was such as to require much food; and the heat was so excessive that even if we had been in idleness we should have needed much to drink. But at last, having confidence in the Father of mercies—who, though He distresses, does not overwhelm; and, though He chastises, does not slay—we returned to the sea by which we had come. At sight of it we left the vessel, in order to rest a little from the labor which we had endured to attain that for which we were hoping; and I went on land with my four Chinese (with whom I was very intimate), and had them build a little boat of four planks—fastened together by some twigs, so to speak, for we had no nails; and calked with clay, for we had no tow, or any other thing better than the clay. This made a sort of canoe. If awkwardly handled, it filled with water. But, such as it was, I had two of the soldiers get into it—for if they kept close to shore they would run no risk—and told them to go up to the hut that we had seen to discover whether there were any people there; because perhaps they had hidden themselves, from fear of our vessel, when they saw it on the way up the river. They did so, and at nightfall they discovered two grown Indians and a boy. They made their way up to them, little by little; and when they got near them they found that they were asleep on the shore, not expecting anything to happen to them. They caught the Indians, and bound them. When the rest of us came by soon after in our ship, they called out from the land, telling us what they had done. Our joy was so great that to render thanks the holy old man and I sang a Te Deum laudamus; and at this hour, which was midnight, half a cuartillo [i.e., pint] of water was served out to the troops in token of joy. The soldiers came on board with their captives, treating them gently and showing them all sorts of kindness. It seemed to us that God had sent them to us as angels to guide us, as He sent St. Raphael to Tobias. We began to put questions to them by an interpreter, asking what country this was, what population it had; and where they had come from, and where they ate and drank. They answered that they were from Camboxa, and that the country along this coast, and inland for many leguas, was uninhabited; and that to go to the towns we should have to enter a large river and to sail up for eighty leguas. They said that large vessels went up the river, and that it was many leguas to windward of this place. They declared that they were natives of that country, slaves of one of its chief lords; and that, because of the ill treatment which they had received, they had fled from him, and had come hither where no man had ever landed. They said that they ate nothing except shell-fish, which they caught with their hands, and wild cocoanuts, that grew there; and that they had no other water except what fell from heaven. When it rained they caught what they could and kept it in some large reeds to drink afterward. They said that two years had passed since they had come there. The effect of such sad news upon the hearts of men who had suffered as we had may easily be imagined. They also told us that some days’ journey further there was a port; but that, if we meant to go inland, where the king was, it would be necessary to leave the vessel at the port, because there was no river that entered inland. Since our desire was only not to die of thirst, any means by which we could get water seemed easy and light to us. We accordingly set out by sea in search of this port, taking these Indians with us, not with the purpose of increasing consumers when we had so little to consume, but to have guides. We went along the coast, running up to it very often wherever we thought we saw any signs of water, and sometimes digging wells, but always in vain, for the land could not give what it did not have. On the day of St. Matthew the Apostle, we discovered a high island in the sea, named Pulonubi.[13] It was about six leguas from land. We laid our course toward it in search of water, thinking that doubtless it would have some, being high and mountainous, and having a sandy shore; but as the equipment of the ship was fastened on with pins, as the saying is, our rudder broke, when we had gone out a legua to sea. Being buffeted by the slight sea which was running, we had to return to land, and even to run aground, in order to mend the rudder. The Lord seemed to have declared that He intended to bring death upon us, because the sustenance necessary for our life was entirely consumed; for since we had no water, we were not only without drink, but also without food, our provision being rice, which cannot be eaten unless it is boiled in water. For lack of water, some ate it parched, which dried their entrails. Others ate it imperfectly boiled in the steam of salt water, putting it in a little basket over a pot of this water on the fire, so that by the steam thus sent out it might be softened. The water was so salt that it made the rice like itself, and left it uneatable. There were some who, even after this fine example of cookery, drank sea-water, which increased the thirst they were so impatiently desiring to remedy. Others distilled it over the fire and got some fresh water, but very little, at the expense of much wood and with the necessity of keeping up fire day and night, which dried them more than the water that they got moistened them. All this taught us the great need in which we live, with our life on a thread, and the Lord many times threatening to cut it short. When we had mended the rudder as well as we could at the time, we went on up the coast, being disillusioned, so that we would not have thought of going out to sea even if the ocean had been as smooth as milk. Three days later, the twenty-seventh of February, which was Shrove Tuesday, we took our hands from the oars and placed ourselves in those of God, despairing of life. The remedy came to us as from God’s own hand without our expecting it, when we were overcome by labor, and dying of hunger and thirst, and had given up ourselves to death. Thus it is most certain that the Lord comes to the aid of him who calls upon Him when all things created fail him—blessed be God’s holy name. We had reached such an extremity that of that sorry ration of water which we had now had about a month, and which was less than half a cuartillo daily for each person, there was only enough for two days. We were not now thinking of making any effort to find any, but had our minds wholly turned to preparing ourselves for death, when the Lord of life ordained that the waves of the sea should drive us into a little inlet which the land formed there, where we went on shore with the intention of never leaving the place, but of ending in it our voyage and our lives. It happened that one of the Indians in the ship went to bathe in the water, to relieve the great heat from which he suffered, and somewhat to moderate the thirst which was destroying us. He swam to land, and there right on the shore (which was muddy, like all of that along which we had coasted), his feet sank in at the foot of a wild palm-tree. Feeling that they had gone into water, he drew them out, applied his lips to the hole which he had made, and found that the water was fresh. The thirst from which he suffered not permitting him to wait until it settled, he drank mud and water until he was satisfied. He shouted to us to tell us what he had discovered, but no one believed him. At last, the Indian persisting in his affirmation, all hurried to the water to look upon this marvel, which might be compared to that which God performed in drawing water from a rock that His people might drink in the desert; for no less miraculous appeared to us this fresh water in a marsh so near the ocean. We gave God a thousand thanks, and rejoicing in the feast, we forgot the labor and the fasting which we had undergone in the long vigil. We easily dug a well, for the whole soil was muddy, and on the next morning we filled all our casks with the water, which had now settled. We set sail to look for food, and even aspired to greater things. [In a few days we reached the port, where there was a garrison of Indians against their neighbors, the Siamese. All the news which we obtained about our comrades, and about the country to which we had come, was bad. The flagship had not been heard of, and the other ship was at Churdumuco, which is a large town eight leguas from the port and eighty from the sea.[14] We were told that the king who had sent for us from Manila, and whose name was Langara, was not in the country; but that his place in the kingdom had been taken by his chief vassal, because of the following circumstances. The king of Sian had made war against the king of Camboja, with eight hundred thousand men. This number should not astonish anyone, because the kings could make war almost at no expense, their vassals providing their own arms and food. The king of Camboja did not dare to wait for so great a multitude of enemies, and retreated up the river to another kingdom known as that of the Laos. The king of Siam made himself master of the country, and after burning it all returned to his own country, being harassed by hunger, which made more war upon him than did the king his enemy. The army being in disorder, one of the chiefs of Camboja, with those who had retreated to the mountains (about thirty thousand men), attacked his rearguard, thus obliging him to hasten his retreat. This chief, having conquered him who had conquered his king, took possession of the kingdom. The new king regarded those who had come at the request of the previous king as allies of his enemy, and therefore as his own enemies. This news alarmed us greatly, as we were without our comrades, our commander-in-chief, and our ships. However, being obliged to disembark, and to put ourselves into the hands of the rulers of the country, we made an honest man of the thief, as the proverb goes, and decided to send a soldier to him as an ambassador—offering to him our aid and service, on the ground that we had come to help the king of this country, and found no other king in it but him. The king received him kindly, saying that he only held the kingdom as a regent, and that he was ready to restore it to the lawful king when he should return. He sent an order to the mandarin of the coast where we were, to provide us with boats and carts. The soldier on his return met the Spaniards of the other ship, and learned from them that all that the king had said was false and that his purpose was to kill us at his ease. They advised us to join them in their ship, dissimulating in regard to our affairs, and keeping on our guard. The father provincial sent me ahead to confess those in the ship, because it was Lent, and they had sent to him to ask for a confessor. I was on foot and suffered much, although some things that I saw on the journey afforded me some alleviation of these hardships. I one day reached a village where there was a monastery of religious of their sort, of whom there are many in this kingdom. I went to it and talked to a venerable old man, who was as it were the superior of it. He was seated on a little platform about a palm’s breadth in height, with a small mat on it, and the others sat on the ground. Without saying anything, I sat down next to the old man—at which they smiled, thinking that I had done so because I did not understand the custom of the country, which did not permit that. We both showed each other much courtesy by signs, and I by using some words of their language which I knew, although, because I did not put them together properly, they laughed much. They gave me a collation of some fruits; and the sacristan immediately took me to his temple, which was at some distance from the house. It had a sort of cemetery about it, surrounded by some slightly raised stones which divided it from the rest. The door to the temple was small, and the temple itself was arched, round, and small. (Here follows a full account of the appearance of the temple. Some description of their prayers and of their religious customs is also given. Aduarte states, upon the authority of the Portuguese religious, that these native monks are vicious and licentious in the extreme.) I finally reached the ship of our people, and on both sides we told each other what had happened.]

Chapter XLVII

The wars which followed in the prosecution of this embassy

[By the sufferings and danger which we had passed through, the Lord had prepared us to endure those which were to follow. To protect the ship, some of the men had encamped on a little sand island in the middle of the river. On one bank was the town (i.e., Chordamuco) of the natives, near which there were about two thousand Chinese, some settled here, others who had recently come from China as traders, with their merchandise, in five large vessels, which they kept in the river near the town. They had controlled the natives, and resented the coming of the Spaniards, thinking that the latter had come to disturb or take away the superiority which they had. So they sought for an opportunity to quarrel with them, seeing that the Spaniards were few and that they were many. Whenever the men on the ship went to buy food on land, the Chinese tried their patience by annoying them without any reason. By orders of the captain, Blas Ruyz de Fernan Goncalez, they endured this annoyance, though sorely against their will. The captain sent a message to the king asking him to bring the Chinese to order. The king spoke fair words, but did nothing. Finally, the anger of our men got beyond their control. On the Sunday after Easter, when all had received communion, three or four were in the town with the captain’s permission. One of them came back with his sword drawn, saying that the Chinese had chased and abused them, and that they had not dared to violate the captain’s orders. The troops armed themselves, and, breaking away from all restraints, went to take vengeance on the Chinese. I went along to calm the Chinese, if I could, by speaking to them in their language, which I understood. They were all armed with their catanas (a sort of hanger), and languinatas, or long knives drawn to a point. I dared not put myself in their hands, because I was told that they would be better pleased to get me than anyone else. Soon after, sixty of our men in two companies, with some of our Japanese and Indians, came ashore and instantly attacked the Chinese. As our bullets took effect at such a distance that the latter could not attack our troops hand to hand, the Chinese were routed; and our men followed, killing them, until they had driven them out of the town. The natives of the country took no part in the conflict on either side. I saved as many lives as I could. The soldiers, seeing themselves masters of the field, pursued the Chinese to their ships, into which the Spaniards were able to shoot from the high banks. In this way they soon got control of the ships, which was necessary, because with these large ships they would easily have overcome our smaller vessel, and thus all hope to escape from the anger of the king would have been taken away from us. The king[15] was in great wrath. To send a message to him, and to carry a statement of the case, the father provincial, Fray Alonso Ximenez, was chosen. He went accompanied by half of the forces, the rest of us remaining in the ships. Several days were passed in sending messages backwards and forwards, but the king would not receive the ambassadors in person. It was plain that the king was planning to take all our lives. The demands which he made would have put us entirely in his power; and, when the father provincial asked permission to return and discuss them with the rest of the forces, the king refused permission for anyone to return except the father provincial alone. The intention of the king was to wait for a rainy day, so that our powder should be moistened and we be unable to use our arquebuses. When the father provincial came back, he asked me if I would venture to go to the camp, confess the soldiers and encourage them, and carry to the king our response declining to follow his wishes. When I reached the forces near the palace of the king, we did not consider the question of taking any answer to him, but discussed two plans of escape. One was to withdraw in good order, defending ourselves on the way; the other to attack the palace of the king by night and strive to capture him, his son, or his wife, whom we might use as hostages. Captain Diego Velloso declared that if we should attack these Indians boldly they would retreat to the mountains, and leave the field to us; but that if we should retreat they would all attack us. He had had experience in this part of the world, and what he said was confirmed by others, so that his plan was accepted. That night I confessed the men and told them what under the circumstances it was lawful for them to do, enjoining them to commit no unnecessary violence, and to take no lives except in self-defense. The attack was planned carefully, the troops being divided into a front and a rear guard, and some of the soldiers being left with a barge in the river near where we were encamped, with orders to capture two Indian boats as soon as they should hear the noise of conflict, so that we could make use of them in our retreat. I should have been glad to remain with the barge in order to avoid being present at the conflict, which promised to be sanguinary.] However, it seemed necessary for me to accompany the rest, and, armed as they were, and wearing no part of my habit except my scapular, I accompanied the troops who advanced against the palace. We were immediately detected, but succeeded in reaching the royal dwelling—which was built of wood, like the other houses in the town, but was very large. We broke in the doors, but the people all escaped through other doors; and thus, though we gained control of the palace, it was empty and we had failed in our purpose. I restrained the troops from burning the palace; but we lighted some bonfires, so that we might see each other. One of these saved my life, for as an Indian on an elephant was charging upon me and was already very close to me, so that I looked around at hearing the noise, the beast fled in alarm, being scared away by the fire. The Indians were not frightened by our daring, as we had falsely imagined that they would be, but gathered in a large square near the palace to face us. Everything, however, was noise and confusion among them, surprised as they were, and there was no less among us; for the number of our opponents was so much greater than theirs that, if darkness had not protected us, they could have buried us in handfuls of sand. [Like Joshua, I would have held back the dawn if I could. At daylight we were all in disorder. When the Indians could distinguish us from themselves and saw how few we were, they began to rain arrows upon us, several being wounded, Captain Diego Velloso having one leg pinned to another, so that he could not walk. Our troops were in entire confusion, some calling out that we ought to come to an understanding with the Indians, others finding fault with the plan that we had followed, until God was pleased to give me courage that I might give courage to the others, and I took upon myself the office of captain. Our last day, as we expected it to be, was bright and clear. A body of courageous Indians charged down the street at us, and their captain almost reached our line. I confess that I wished to leap out upon him, not that I might kill him, but that I might be the first to die, and not see the carnage which I feared—or the worse than carnage, if we were taken alive. But wisdom ruled me, and I ordered Captain Blas Ruiz to attack him with his halberd; with one blow he thrust the Indian through, shield and body. The death of their captain somewhat abated the courage of the rest. God was pleased that one of our bullets should strike the king, who was in the rear, unseen by us, animating his troops. We did not learn of this for some days afterward, but we could see that the Indians attacked us with less ardor. The Indians cut off our retreat to the barge, and we were obliged to leave the soldiers who were with it and to make our way, back by the road. As we marched along, we were obliged to defend ourselves on all sides, and especially against the crowd of Indians which followed in our rear. We could go but slowly, burdened as we were with our arms, and being obliged to carry our wounded.] Two arrows struck but did not wound me, one being caught by a coat of mail which I wore, and the other by my shield. We suffered greatly from hunger and thirst. When we came to some puddles with rain-water in them (which was more mud than water), all drank of them, and when I came there, though I was one of the last, I did the same; and though the best had already been drunk, and the rest was mixed with mud, it tasted better to me than any water that I ever drank in my life. Under all these circumstances, we marched on this day, which was the twelfth of May, four leguas by four o’clock in the afternoon, [when we were obliged to halt because we had reached the bank of a river. The Indians and we ourselves supposed that we should never be able to cross. Here some of our men urged that we ought to give ourselves up to the Indians as slaves for life; others declared that we ought to attack them, and force them to kill us. At nightfall, rain began; and the Indians, supposing that our powder would be moistened, prepared to attack us. I passed along the line, confessing some and encouraging all, though I must admit I was in great fear myself lest before midnight we should be cut into bits, that each one of our enemy might have his piece, as is the custom of Indians when they are victorious. The storm ceased before they dared to attack, but the river was still before us. There were two fords, one narrow and deep; the other, wide and shallow, and at about ten o’clock at night I decided that we ought to make the venture, and learn whether we were to live or die. We chose the longer and shallower ford, marching as quietly as we could, and leaving behind us a number of burning bits of the matches that we used for firing our guns, tied on the bushes, in order to make the Indians suppose that there was a large number of troops there. Our retreat was covered by six courageous men with two arquebuses each. When we entered the river, our vanguard, which was already in the middle, began to retreat upon us, fearing the people who were on the other bank, and their elephants, which they said they were driving into the water. I succeeded in reanimating them, and they fired a volley from the middle of the stream, where the water reached the beards of many of them. The enemy fled, and our passage was impeded only by the difficulty of dragging ourselves through the mud. We marched on for the rest of the night very slowly, with our clothes sticking to our bodies. On the morrow we found some fruit-trees and broke our fast of two nights and one day. We had great difficulty in carrying our wounded. One of the men being left behind by all, I had to carry him myself with his arms over my shoulders, for he was taller than I, until, after his wound began to grow feverish, he was able to walk a little himself. Not long before sunrise we reached the great river in which the ships were, but at a distance of two leguas from us. We put three of the wounded who were the hardest to carry into a little boat there, and ordered them to row down the river and carry the news of what had happened, and to direct the others to bring the ship near the bank where we were. In the meantime we cut some trees and made a breastwork; and when the Indians (who are not accustomed to attack by night) prepared to make their last rush and overwhelm us, our ship came up and, approaching the bank as closely as possible, played on the Indians with some artillery, and fired at them with arquebuses. Under this protection we succeeded in getting to the ship, being carried in two boat-loads.]

Chapter XLVIII

Our departure from the kingdom and the events which happened during our return to Manila