commodious haven, and named it Port Royal.

On the twenty--seventh of May they crossed the bar, where the war-ships of
Dupont crossed three hundred years later.[1] They passed Hilton Head,
where Rebel batteries belched their vain thunder, and, dreaming nothing of
what the rolling centuries should bring forth, held their course along the
peaceful bosom of Broad River. On the left they saw a stream which they
named Libourne, probably Skull Creek; on the right, a wide river, probably
the Beaufort. When they landed, all was solitude. The frightened Indians
had fled, but they lured them back with knives, beads, and
looking-glasses, and enticed two of them on board their ships. Here, by
feeding, clothing, and caressing them, they tried to wean them from their
fears, but the captive warriors moaned and lamented day and night, till
Ribaut, with the prudence and humanity which seem always to have
characterized him, gave over his purpose of carrying them to France, and
set them ashore again.

[Footnote 1: The following is the record of this early visit to
Port Royal, taken from Ribaut's report to Coliguy, translated and
printed in London in 1563:--

"And when wee had sounded the entrie of the Chanell (thanked be
God), wee entered safely therein with our shippes, against the
opinion of many, finding the same one of the fayrest, and greatest
Hauens of the worlde. Howe be it, it must be remembred, least men
approaching neare it within seven leagues of the lande, bee
abashed and afraide on the East side, drawing toward the
Southeast, the grounde to be flatte, for neuerthelesse at a full
sea, there is eurey where foure fathome water keeping the right
Chanel."