prepared for him. He saw bands of armed men drawn up on the beach, and
the smaller vessels of Ribaut's squadron, which had crossed the bar
several days before, anchored behind it to oppose his landing. He would
not venture an attack, but, steering southward, skirted the coast till
he came to an inlet which he named St. Augustine.

Here he found three of his ships, already debarking their troops, guns,
and stores. Two officers, Patiño and Vicente, had taken possession of
the dwelling of Seloy, an Indian chief, a huge barn-like structure,
strongly framed of entire trunks of trees, and thatched with
palmetto-leaves. Around it they were throwing up intrenchments of
fascines and sand. Gangs of negroes, with pick, shovel, and spade, were
toiling at the work. Such was the birth of St. Augustine, the oldest
town of the United States, and such the introduction of slave-labor upon
their soil.

On the eighth, Menendez took formal possession of his domain. Cannon
were fired, trumpets sounded, and banners displayed, as, at the head of
his officers and nobles, he landed in state. Mendoza, crucifix in hand,
came to meet him, chanting, "_Te Deum laudamus_," while the Adelantado
and all his company, kneeling, kissed the cross, and the congregated
Indians gazed in silent wonder.

Meanwhile the tenants of Fort Caroline were not idle. Two or three
soldiers, strolling along the beach in the afternoon, had first seen the
Spanish ships and hastily summoned Ribaut. He came down to the mouth of
the river, followed by an anxious and excited crowd; but, as they
strained their eyes through the darkness, they could see nothing but the
flashes of the distant guns. The returning light showed them at length,
far out at sea, the Adelantado in hot chase of their flying comrades.