Martin Alonzo looked quickly towards the vessel, and then turned and gave orders for spreading every inch of canvas on the Pinta. There was a good breeze blowing, and the Pinta was the fastest sailer of the fleet, so that it was not long ere she was showing the other vessels her stern.
All that day and until night came on, there was not an eye in the fleet but was eagerly bent in the direction in which land was supposed to lie; but when darkness came on and there had been no sign of the looked-for sight, most of the men gave over watching.
On the Pinta old Rodrigo de Triana had been one of the most careful watchers; though it was noticed that he had kept his eyes as much on the water as on the horizon. His watch was relieved at midnight, but he remained on deck, saying to Diego, who was in the watch with him, that he did not feel sleepy, and had a mind to study the stars.
“To study maravedis, you mean,” said Diego, laughing.
“Why, maybe you’re right, lad,” answered Rodrigo, slyly.
Diego had half a mind to watch, too; for he had a good opinion of the old sailor’s shrewdness; but he was sleepy, and deferred hope had made him suspicious of appearances, and so he went to bed. It seemed to him, however, that he had no more than fallen asleep when a gun fired from the deck of the Pinta, followed by loud and joyous cries, sent him out of his berth in a great haste.
He found himself jostled by all the others of the crew who had been startled at the same time, and were crowding out on deck, eagerly inquiring of each other if land had been discovered. Then presently they heard the voice of Martin Alonzo joyfully proclaiming the great tidings.
“Ay, ay, boys! it’s land sure enough. There! you can see it for yourselves, dark as it is. And who should be the first to set eyes on it but old Rodrigo, the cunning old salt, who, instead of turning in like the rest, must spend the night in the round-house looking for those ten thousand maravedis. Now, brother Francisco, have in those sails, and we will lay to until the blessed sun comes up to let us have a clearer view of this land of Zipangu. Ah, lads! you lay your heads down to-night poor men; but if the tale be not a false one—and you see it has been true so far—you shall not go to bed again without gold under your pillows.”
With that the men all fell to shaking hands with each other, and could hardly be got to take in the sails, for the excitement they were in. And it chanced that in the general jubilee of congratulation, Diego, whose spirits were as easily exalted as any one’s, had gone about dancing and shaking hands like one beside himself, as indeed he was, and had at last caught the hand of Juan before he knew it.
“I’m afraid you don’t mean it,” said Juan, half wistfully, half laughingly; for Diego’s joy was very extravagant.