Peter Parleys Tales About America and Australia | Page 6

dawned the sea presented a frightful waste of wild and
broken waves. Columbus looked round anxiously for the Pinta, but she

was nowhere to be seen, and he became apprehensive that Pinzon had
borne away for Spain, that he might reach it before him, and by giving
the first account of his discoveries, deprive him of his fame.
Through a dreary day the helpless bark was driven along by the
tempest.
Seeing all human skill baffled and confounded, Columbus endeavoured
to propitiate heaven by solemn vows, and various private vows were
made by the seamen. The heavens, however, seemed deaf to their vows:
the storm grew still more furious, and every one gave himself up for
lost.
During this long and awful conflict of the elements, the mind of
Columbus was a prey to the most distressing anxiety.
He was harassed by the repinings of his crew, who cursed the hour of
their leaving their country.
He was afflicted also with the thought of his two sons, who would be
left destitute by his death.
But he had another source of distress more intolerable than death itself.
In case the Pinta should have foundered, as was highly probable, the
history of his discovery would depend upon his own feeble bark. One
surge of the ocean might bury it for ever in oblivion, and his name only
be recorded as that of a desperate adventurer.
At this crisis, when all was given up for lost, Columbus had presence of
mind enough to retire to his cabin and to write upon parchment a short
account of his voyage.
This he wrapped in an oiled cloth, which he enclosed in a cake of wax,
put it into a tight cask, and threw it into the sea, in hopes that some
fortunate accident might preserve a deposit of so much importance to
the world.
But that being which had preserved him through so many dangers still

protected him; and happily these precautions were superfluous.
At sunset there was a streak of clear sky in the west; the wind shifted to
that quarter, and on the morning of the 15th of February they came in
sight of land.
The transports of the crew at once more beholding the old world, were
almost equal to those they had experienced on discovering the new.
This proved to be the island of St. Mary, the most southern of the
Azores.
After remaining here a few days, the wind proving favourable he again
set sail, on the 24th of February.
After two or three days of pleasant sailing, there was a renewal of
tempestuous weather. About midnight of the 2nd of March the caravel
was struck by a squall, which rent all her sails and threatened instant
destruction. The crew were again reduced to despair, and made vows of
fasting and pilgrimages.
The storm raged through the succeeding day, during which, from
various signs they considered that land must be near. The turbulence of
the following night was dreadful; the sea was broken, wild, and
mountainous, the rain fell in torrents, and the lightning flashed and the
thunder pealed from various parts of the heavens.
In the first watch of this fearful night, the seamen gave the usual
welcome cry of land--but it only increased their alarm, for they dreaded
being driven on shore or dashed upon the rocks. Taking in sail,
therefore, they endeavoured to keep to sea as much as possible. At
day-break on the 4th of March they found themselves off the rock of
Cintra at the mouth of the Tagus, which you know is the principal river
of Portugal.
Though distrustful of the Portuguese, he had no alternative but to run in
for shelter. The inhabitants came off from various parts of the shore to
congratulate him on what they deemed a miraculous preservation, for
they had been watching the vessel the whole morning with great

anxiety, and putting up prayers for her safety. The oldest mariners of
the place assured him that they had never during the whole course of
their lives known so tempestuous a winter.
Such were the difficulties and perils with which Columbus had to
contend on his return to Europe. Had one tenth part of them beset his
outward voyage, his factious crew would have risen in arms against the
enterprise, and he never would have discovered the new world.
The king of Portugal must have been greatly mortified when he heard
of the arrival of Columbus and the wonderful discoveries he had made,
for he could not but reflect that all the advantages of these discoveries
might have belonged to him if he had not treated Columbus as he did.
But notwithstanding the envy which it was natural for the Portuguese to
feel, he was allowed to come to Lisbon, and was