"When they met, Nicuesa received his late foe with open arms. 'It is not,' said he, 'for Hidalgos, like men of vulgar souls, to remember past differences when they behold one another in distress. Henceforth, let all that has occurred between us be forgotten. Command me as a brother. Myself and my men are at your orders, to follow you wherever you please, until the deaths of Juan de la Cosa and his comrades are revenged.'
"The spirits of Ojeda were once more lifted up by this gallant and generous offer. The two governors, no longer rivals, landed four hundred of their men and several horses, and set off with all speed for the fatal village. They approached it in the night, and, dividing their forces into two parties, gave orders that not an Indian should be taken alive."
Dreadful indeed was the carnage, and fierce the vengeance the two commanders wreaked upon the natives. Having sacked the village, they left it a smoking ruin, and returned in triumph to their ships. The spoil, which was great, was divided among the followers of each governor, and they now parted with many expressions of friendship, Nicuesa proceeding westward to his province.
Ojeda did not long continue at a spot so fatal. He proceeded along the coast, and at length selected a height on the east side, at the entrance of the gulf of Darien, as the place for his town, which he named St. Sebastian. He immediately erected a fortress to defend himself against the natives, and considering this as his permanent seat of government, despatched a ship to Hispaniola, with a letter to the bachelor Enciso, requesting him to join the colony with the provisions and men he had collected. In the meanwhile, those who remained soon exhausted the stores they had, and were reduced to great want. They were fortunately relieved by the arrival of a vessel commanded by Bernardo de Talavera, a reckless adventurer, who being threatened with imprisonment by his creditors in St. Domingo, had persuaded a set of men, as reckless as himself, to seize by force a vessel, lying off shore loaded with provisions, and join the new colony. While the supply brought by Talavera lasted, Ojeda was able to pacify his murmuring companions, and to persuade them peacefully to await the arrival of Enciso. When this however was exhausted, and famine threatened them, they became outrageous in their clamours, and Ojeda was compelled, as the only means of appeasing them, to agree to go himself to St. Domingo for aid, leaving those who stayed under the command of Francisco Pizarro, as his lieutenant. Talavera, already tired of the hardships he had encountered, was willing enough to return, and set sail with the commander in his vessel. The ill luck which had attended Ojeda during this expedition still continued. The vessel was cast on the island of Cuba, and completely wrecked; and the unhappy Spaniards had no choice but to perish on the beach, or to traverse the wide morasses that spread along the coast, until they reached some place where they could obtain aid. These morasses, as they proceeded, became deeper and deeper, the water sometimes reaching to their girdles; and when they slept, they had to creep up among the twisted roots of the mangrove trees, which grew in clusters in the waters. Of all the party, Ojeda alone kept up his spirit undaunted. He cheered his companions; he shared his food among them; whenever he stopped to repose in the mangrove trees, he took out his treasured picture of the Virgin, which he had carefully preserved through all his troubles, and placing it before him, commended himself to the Holy Mother; and by persuading his companions to join him, he renewed their patience and courage. It was on one of these occasions that he made a vow to erect a chapel and leave his relic in the first Indian town to which he came. At length, after incredible sufferings, they reached a village; the natives gathered round the poor wanderers, and gazed at them with wonder; they treated them with humanity, and after restoring them to health and strength, aided and accompanied them till they reached the point of land nearest Jamaica. At that spot they procured canoes, arrived at a settlement of their countrymen, and thence returned to St. Domingo.
Ojeda was too pious a Catholic to forget the vow he had made in his distress, though it must have sorely grieved him to part with the relic to which he attributed his safety in so many perils. At the village, however, where he had been so kindly succoured, he faithfully performed it.
"He built a little hermitage or oratory in the village, and furnished it with an altar, above which he placed the picture. He then summoned the benevolent cacique, and explained to him, as well as his limited knowledge of the language, or the aid of interpreters would permit, the main points of the Catholic faith, and especially the history of the Virgin, whom he represented as the mother of the Deity that reigned in the skies, and the great advocate for mortal man.
"The worthy cacique listened to him with mute attention, and though he might not clearly comprehend the doctrine, yet he conceived a profound veneration for the picture. The sentiment was shared by his subjects. They kept the little oratory always swept clean, and decorated it with cotton hangings, laboured by their own hands, and with various votive offerings. They composed couplets or areytos in honour of the Virgin, which they sang to the accompaniment of rude musical instruments, dancing to the sound under the groves which surrounded the hermitage.
"A further anecdote concerning this relique may not be unacceptable. The venerable Las Casas, who records these facts, informs us that he arrived at the village of Cuebás some time after the departure of Ojeda. He found the oratory preserved with the most religious care, as a sacred place, and the picture of the Virgin regarded with fond adoration. The poor Indians crowded to attend mass, which he performed at the altar; they listened attentively to his paternal instructions, and at his request brought their children to be baptized. The good Las Casas having heard much of this famous relique of Ojeda, was desirous of obtaining possession of it, and offered to give the cacique in exchange, an image of the Virgin which he had brought with him. The chieftain made an evasive answer, and seemed much troubled in mind. The next morning he did not make his appearance.
"Las Casas went to the oratory to perform mass, but found the altar stripped of its precious relique. On inquiring, he learnt that in the night the cacique had fled to the woods, bearing off with him his beloved picture of the Virgin. It was in vain that Las Casas sent messengers after him, assuring him that he should not be deprived of the relique, but, on the contrary, that the image should likewise be presented to him. The cacique refused to venture from the fastnesses of the forest, nor did he return to his village and replace the picture in the oratory, until after the departure of the Spaniards."
The fate of Ojeda was that of a ruined man. He lingered for some time at San Domingo, but he no longer appeared there as the governor of a province. He was a needy wanderer. His health was broken down by wounds and hardships, and he died at last so poor that he did not leave money enough to pay for his interment; and so broken in spirit, that he entreated with his last breath, that his body might be buried at the portal of the Monastery of St. Francisco, in humble expiation of his past pride, "so that every one who entered might tread upon his grave."