Very beautiful, indeed, are those islands which the ancients had called the Fortunate, but which in Diego’s day were known as the Canaries. Some of them rise sheer and rugged almost from the water’s edge, others are mere rocky islets, and others again are like rounded hills; but with very few exceptions they are all verdure-clad at the base, and smile with cultivation far up the steep sides.
To the sailors of the little fleet, turned aside, as they deemed, from certain destruction, the islands seemed a thousand times more beautiful even than in fact they were, and there is little to wonder at if all of them cherished a hope that the voyage would end there.
It was for the admiral, Christoval Colon, to feel a foreboding sorrow at the sight of the lovely islands. He could depend upon the commanders of the vessels and upon some of the volunteer adventurers; but he knew as well as if the sailors had spoken their minds to him that they hailed the land with the sole hope of finding a refuge there from the terrible voyage.
For that reason he had held counsel with his allies and had adopted plans to the end of thwarting any effort, open or secret, that might be made by the sailors. Therefore it happened that, although the little fleet sailed among the islands for three weeks, there never once came an opportunity which gave Miguel and his friends an occasion to put their carefully laid plans in operation.
For the first week they went from island to island, seeking a vessel which should take the place of the Pinta; but it was soon demonstrated that none could be procured, and then Martin Alonzo said plainly to the admiral that it was his opinion that it would be wisest to settle down to repairing the rudder and calking the ship, the latter being very leaky, owing to the intentionally faulty work of the men employed in Palos.
“But you will be obliged to lay up, then, and your men may desert,” said the admiral, who had no other fault to find with the plan.
“Not so,” answered Martin Alonzo, grimly; “for I will keep them all hard at work, and I will shoot the first man who tries to run away.”
The Niña, too, had to be repaired; for she was a bad sailer and kept the other two vessels back; so it was determined to change her lateen sails to square ones. But she did not have to lay up for that; it being sufficient if she lay at anchor in smooth water. All this having been determined on, Martin Alonzo called his men aft and said to them:
“As you very well know, my men, the Pinta is unseaworthy by reason of her broken rudder and her leaky hull. We have tried to find a vessel to replace her, and have not been able to do so. Now, we must careen her and put her in order.”