In the afternoon Malope came to the beach, for the houses and canoes that had been burnt belonged to him. In a loud voice, he cried to the Adelantado by the name of Malope, saying: “Malope! Malope!” and beating on his own breast, saying: “Mendaña, Mendaña!” In this way he made his complaint, showing the harm they had done him by pointing with his finger. He also made signs that his people had not shot arrows at our men, but that the aggressors came from the other side of the bay. He strung his bow, intending that we should all go against them, and that his people would help us in taking vengeance. The Adelantado called him with the intention of explaining matters; but he did not come. He went away, returning on another day, and friendship was restored.
On the day of St. Matthew, Apostle and Evangelist, they made sail from this port, steering for another which was better and more convenient, at a distance of half a league, and in the same bay. While altering our berth, the Captain, Don Lorenzo, came back with the news that in sailing round the island he had found another bay not less good than the one in which we were, and with more people and canoes; also, that further on he saw two fair-sized islands, near the large island, which were thickly peopled. To the S.E., at a distance of 8 leagues, he saw another island; 9 or 10 leagues to E.N.E. from where we hove to for the night when we first sighted land, he came on three islands, one 7 leagues round and the two others very small. They were all inhabited by brown people of a clear colour, covered with palm trees; and many reefs ran out to W.N.W., with openings and channels, of which no end was seen.[1] No sign whatever was seen of the ship of which they were in search.
We anchored in the second port, and the natives passed the whole night in shouting, as if they were bull-fighting or having games, and very clearly we heard the word “amigo,” and presently shouts. In this and making fires the night was passed. When morning dawned, a troop of about five hundred natives came to the beach, all with their weapons in their hands, menacing and hurling arrows, darts, and stones at the ships in hostile fashion. Seeing that their missiles did not reach, some of them advanced into the water up to their breasts, while others began to swim; in short, all were equal in willingness, diligence, and noise. They came so near that, grappling with the buoys of the ships, they went on shore with them. Seeing their audacity, the Adelantado ordered Captain Lorenzo, his brother-in-law, to take fifteen soldiers in the boat, and to skirmish with them. Those with shields protected the arquebusiers and rowers, so that only two were hit, but there would have been more if it had not been for the shields, which were passed from place to place. The natives fought in very scattered formation and by rushes, but showed themselves to be valorous, so that it was understood that we had met with a people who knew well how to defend their homes. But this only lasted during the time that our arms did not do the harm that they did and saw. As soon as they were undeceived by the death of two or three, and several wounded, they retreated from the beach, and, abandoning their aggressive attitude, took the road to their homes, carrying the dead and wounded, creeping with the speed that we gave them into the woods. They carried the wounded in their arms, and helped others to walk, leaving the trail of their own blood where they went.
The Captain, Don Lorenzo, although he had no orders to land, followed the natives with his men, and the Camp Master, who was watching everything from the ship, shouted that the men were being placed in risk, and that if he was in another place he would punish one who assumed a licence that had not been given to him. Doña Isabel felt this very much, and wished it to be understood that, being her brother, for him there was no limit of licence in things military. The Camp Master landed with thirty soldiers, and went in pursuit of the natives, but as he would not wait, he had nothing to report.
It may be looked upon as certain that the Camp Master had said to the Captain, Don Lorenzo, that if he would not obey he was not fit to be a Captain; that he must pull up and know his duty, and that there were not wanting those who would teach him. When this came to the knowledge of Doña Isabel, she said things which were very deeply felt by the Camp Master; who did not come back, but went alone to pass the night at one of the villages of the natives which was near, and all that night silence was well kept.
[1] Nupani, Nukapu, and several other small reef islands north of Santa Cruz.
Chapter XI.
How they began to treat of a settlement, and what passed in forming it, and the complaints of the soldiers.