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.
Chapter XVIII.
Relates how, by reason of a strong wind from the N.W., the sea ran across the track of the ships, and how they sighted a high island.
With great regret at the loss of the three best natives, though the one that remained was more free (being the same the Captain pointed out with his finger when they were seized), we proceeded on a S.E. course, with a fresh N.W. breeze, until the following day. The wind increased in force with thick weather, with flights of birds, and the night approaching, so we struck the topmasts and hove to until the 24th of April. On that day the sun was taken, and it was found that we were in 14°, the ship having drifted 20 leagues. In the afternoon, the weather having cleared up, the Captain ordered sail to be made, and when he was asked what the course was to be, he answered: “Put the ships’ heads where they like, for God will guide them as may be right;” and as it was S.W., he said it might continue so. So on that course, with little sail, we steered during the night. Before sunrise on the following day, a sailor of the Capitana named Francisco Rodriguez went to the mast-head, and cried in a cheerful voice: “Very high land ahead!” We all wanted to see it, and all looked at it together with great contentment. Much greater was their satisfaction when they came close, and saw smoke, and natives calling to the launch to come nearer.
This island was calculated to be 1,700 leagues from Lima. It is 7 or 8 leagues in circumference, forms a round hill, abrupt near the sea, the highest and best-formed I have seen. Its shape is that of a sugar-loaf with the crown cut off. It is cut like a saddle, whence a good stream of water falls into the sea. We saw crops growing, plantains, palms, and other trees. The inhabitants appeared to be of a good colour, and well made. The people were on the N.W. side, where, at a short distance from the shore, there is a bare rock. The latitude of this land is 14°, and it was named San Marcos,[1] because it was discovered on that Saint’s day.