The growing discontents of the crew were watched by Columbus with solicitude. He was a courageous man, and better able than most men to allay a rising storm—to dispel fear and despondency.
But at length, complaints, which had been uttered by one to another, became louder and louder; and some even went so far as to talk of casting Columbus into the sea and sailing forthwith on their return. In these trying circumstances, Columbus left no expedient untried to quell their mutinous spirit. Some he soothed—some he flattered—others he threatened.
On the 25th, as they were sailing still westward, and before a prosperous breeze, a shout was heard from on board the Pinta, that land was in sight.
For a time the joy of the crews broke forth in glory to God. The masts were climbed—the rigging was filled, and every eye was strained to catch a glimpse of the long-desired land. The direction in which it was supposed to be seen, was southerly. So strong was the belief that land had been seen, that Columbus felt himself compelled to alter his course, and all that night to steer towards the object of their search.
The morning, however, brought with it the same unbroken prospect which had stretched gloomily before them for so many weeks. They were now satisfied that what they had seen was only a cloud, and which had departed like the darkness of the night.
The joy which they had experienced had been suddenly raised—it had risen high. The disappointment which followed was severe—and dejection sat heavily on every countenance.
Turn the Carpet.
A Dialogue between Dick and John.
BY HANNAH MORE.