Nor did his aid end here; when Columbus decided to build a fort and storehouse out of the Santa Maria's timbers, the natives helped in that too.
In the fort it was decided to leave about forty men "with a provision of bread and wine for more than a year, seed for planting, the long boat of the ship, a calker, a carpenter, a gunner, and many other persons who have earnestly desired to serve your Highnesses and oblige me by remaining here and searching for the gold mine."
Columbus was, in short, planting the first settlement in the New World. As the disaster had occurred on Christmas morning, he called the town "La Navidad" (the Nativity). To govern it he left a trusty friend, Diego de Arana, whose sister was little Fernando's mother. Columbus drew up a few excellent rules for the conduct of his colonists, and made them a wise address besides. Then he loaded a gun and fired it into the hull of his stranded ship, just "to strike terror into the natives and make them friendly to the Spaniards left behind." This done, he said good-by to the colony, telling them how he hoped to find, on his return from Castile, a ton of gold and spices collected by them in their trade with the natives; and "in such abundance that before three years the king and queen may undertake the recovery of the Holy Sepulchre."
On January 4, 1493, just a year after Columbus had been dismissed from Granada for asking to be made Admiral and Viceroy of the undiscovered lands in the west, he turned his back on those lands now discovered and started home. Not, however, with three ships, for we have learned what happened to the Santa Maria; not even with two ships, for we have not yet learned what happened to the Pinta, which Martin Pinzon commanded. Martin had deserted a month before the shipwreck. Yes, that good and capable navigator, who had helped so much to get the expedition started, had struck off with his picked Palos men on a different course, without asking leave from his Admiral. Nor was this all; for according to the Journal, Martin had "by his language and actions occasioned many other troubles." Columbus professes that Pinzon's conduct mystified him. It was on November 21 that the Pinta started off. Columbus could not believe his eyes, he says. Thinking that the ship must soon come back, all that night he "burned a torch, because the night was clear and there was a nice little breeze by which Martin could have come had he wished." But Martin did not wish. He still had hopes, perhaps, of finding Cipango before returning to Spain.
And so, on January 4, when Columbus gave the pilot orders to set the rudder for home, there was left only the smallest caravel of all, the Nina. They kept on among the islands, frequently landing, and had many more adventures before they struck the open sea. Always they asked for gold, and sometimes they learned that it could be procured by journeying "eastward," but more often, "west." In one place they had a new experience—a shower of unfriendly arrows. In another island the soil and trees so nearly corresponded to what Columbus and Pinzon had read of Cipango that Columbus believed for a moment that he had reached Martin's cherished goal; to be sure, there were no golden temples to be seen, but Columbus, always hopeful, was willing to believe that these lay farther inland, near the gold mines. Resolved to investigate on his next voyage, he made accurate notes so as to find this same beautiful harbor again. But the natives who gathered around explained, by signs, that the island was small, and that there were no palaces or bridges. While lingering here, the most remarkable thing happened; for another European caravel led by another explorer entered! Of course it was the Pinta whose captain had been trying to find either Cipango or the mainland. There was nothing for Martin to do but to appear friendly and pretend that his ship had drifted away and got lost. Columbus accepted the excuse, and both ships started direct for home. The last of the Bahamas faded from sight that same day, January 16, and the two tiny caravels were again the only moving objects on the vast, but no longer unknown, Atlantic Ocean.
For nearly a month, that is, until February 13, the passage was calm and monotonous; and as the Pinta was in bad shape again every one was relieved to find the weather so quiet; but on the 13th the wind rose and rose till it lashed the sea into a fury. All day the sailors labored with the angry waves that kept dashing over the decks; and all that night the two lonely little ships kept signaling to each other until they were swept too far apart. When day broke, the Pinta was nowhere to be seen and was sorrowfully given up for lost. But there was no time to mourn; this day was even worse than yesterday, and the Admiral and his sailors, after the custom of their time, made vows that if only the Virgin would intercede with Heaven and save them, they would make a pilgrimage to her shrine of Guadalupe, far north of Sevilla, or go as penitents in procession to the first church they came to after reaching land.
In spite of these appeals, the danger increased every minute, and we may well imagine the agony of the little crew. The intrepid Columbus, who had accomplished a marvelous thing, a feat which would stagger all Europe, seemed destined to go down in mid-ocean with his great discovery! Here was the Pinta sunk and the Nina likely to follow her any minute! Europe would never know that land lay west of her across the Atlantic! And all those timid, doubting men in Spain, who had opposed the expedition from the very first, would shake their heads and say, "Poor men, the sea monsters on the ocean's rim have gobbled them up!" It must have taken every bit of heart out of the brave Admiral to think that Spain would never know how gloriously he had succeeded.
Down into his dark cabin he went, and there, while the little Nina staggered and pitched on the mountainous waves, he steadied his swinging lantern with one hand, and with the other hastily wrote on a parchment what he had done. This he tied in waterproofed cloth, placed it in a wooden cask, and threw it overboard. Then, for fear it might never be washed ashore, he hurriedly prepared a second cask and lashed it to the deck, hoping that the little caravel, even if he and all his men perished, might toss about till it reached the Azores, which he judged must be near. And sure enough, next morning land was in sight, and the sailors shouted for joy though the storm still raged. It was not until the 18th that the sea had subsided sufficiently for them to approach the rocky coast. When finally they were able to cast anchor, they found they were at Santa Maria, one of the Azores group.
The Azores, you will remember, were inhabited by Portuguese. Columbus, knowing there would surely be a church there dedicated to the Virgin, sent half the crew ashore to make the penitential procession they had vowed; but this first boat load were promptly made prisoners by the Portuguese. What a sad reward for religious men who were trying to keep a vow! The governor of the island then ordered Columbus to come ashore and be made prisoner also, which you may be sure he did not do. There was much angry arguing back and forth, for Spain and Portugal were old enemies; but finally the Portuguese governor dropped his high- handedness, sent back the prisoners, and the poor storm-tossed little Nina bravely set out again to cover the many remaining miles between her and Spain.
Even after all their hardships and their sorrow over the loss of their friends on the Pinta, the unhappy mariners were not to be left in peace. After a few days another violent storm beat against them and buffeted them for days, while a terrific wind came and tore their sails away. The poor little Nina, bare-poled, was now driven helpless before the gale. And yet, marvelous to relate, she did not founder, but kept afloat, and on the morning of March 4, sailors and Admiral saw land not far away.