American Men of Action | Page 8

from Palos on the grandest voyage the world has
ever known.
The shore was lined with people weeping and wringing their hands for
the relatives and friends whom they were sure they should never see

again, and most of the sailors were certain that they were bidding
farewell forever to their native land. Even at the present day, few men
would care to undertake such a voyage in such ships. The two little
caravels, Niña and Pinta, were decked only at stern and prow. The
Santa Maria was but little larger, her length being only about sixty feet,
and all three of the vessels were old, leaky, and in need of frequent
repairs.
The map which Toscanelli had given Columbus years before showed
Japan lying directly west of the Canaries, so to the Canaries Columbus
steered his fleet, and then set forth westward into the unknown. By a
fortunate chance, it was the very best route he could have chosen, for
he came at once into the region of the trade winds, which, blowing
steadily from the east, drove the vessels westward day after day over a
smooth sea. But this very thing, favorable as it was, added greatly to
the terror of the men. How were they to get back to Spain, with the
wind always against them? What was the meaning of a sea as smooth
as their own Guadalquiver? They implored Columbus to turn back; but
to turn back was the last thing in his thoughts. An opportune storm
helped to reassure his men by proving that the wind did not always
blow from the east and that the sea was not always calm.
But there were soon other causes of alarm. The compass varied
strangely, and what hope for them was there if this, their only guide,
proved faithless? They ran into vast meadows of floating seaweed, the
Sargasso Sea, and it seemed certain that the ships would soon be so
entangled that they could move neither backward nor forward. Still
Columbus pushed steadily on, and his men's terror and angry discontent
deepened until they were on the verge of mutiny; various plots were
hatched and it was evident that affairs would soon reach a crisis.
One can guess the Admiral's thoughts as he paced the poop of his ship
on that last night, pausing from time to time to strain his eyes into the
darkness. Picture him to yourself--a tall and imposing figure, clad in
that gray habit of the Franciscan missionary he liked to wear; the face
stern and lined with care, the eyes gray and piercing, the high nose and
long chin telling of a mighty will, the cheeks ruddy and freckled from

life in the open, the white hair falling about his shoulders. Picture him
standing there, a memorable figure, whose hour of triumph was at hand.
He knew the desperate condition of things--none better; he knew that
his men were for the most part criminals and cowards; at any moment
they might rise and make him prisoner or throw him overboard. Well,
until that moment, he would hold his ship's prow to the west! For
twenty years he had labored to get this chance; he would rather die than
fail.
And then, suddenly, far ahead, he saw a light moving low along the
horizon. It disappeared, reappeared, and then vanished altogether. The
lookout had also seen it, and soon after, as the moon rose, a gun from
the Pinta, which was in the lead, announced that land had been sighted.
It was soon plainly visible to everyone, a low beach gleaming white in
the moonlight, and the ships hove-to until daybreak.
In the early dawn of the twelfth day of October, 1492, the boats were
lowered, and Columbus and a large part of his company went ashore,
wild with exultation. They found themselves on a small island, and
Columbus named it San Salvador. It was one of the Bahamas, but
which one is not certainly known. Columbus, of course, believed
himself near the coast of Asia, and spent two months in searching for
Japan, discovering a number of islands, but no trace of the land of gold
and spices which he sought. One of his ships was wrecked and the
captain of the third sailed away to search for gold on his own account,
so that it was in the little Niña alone that Columbus at last set sail for
Spain.
[Illustration: COLUMBUS]
It was no longer a summer sea through which the tiny vessel ploughed
her way, but a sea swept by savage hurricanes. More than once it
seemed that the ship must founder, but by some miracle it kept afloat,
and on March 15, 1493, sailed again into the port of Palos. The great
navigator was received with triumphal honors by