and may be of use. Up and down--down and up!"

The inhabitants of Hispaniola were now about us in
canoes or swimming. They seemed to cry out in distress
and sympathy, gazing at the _Santa Maria_ as though it were
a god dying there. Their own canoes were living things to
them as is any ship to a mariner, and by analogy our great
canoe was a Being dying, more of a Being than theirs, because
it had wings and could open and fold them. And
then back came our boat with Diego de Arana and the others,
and they had with them that same brother of the cacique who
had come to us in St. Thomas Harbor. And had we been
wrecked off Palos, not Palos could have showed more concern
or been more ready to help than were these men.

We had three boats and the Indian canoes and hands
enough, white and copper-hued. Now at low tide, we could
approach and enter the _Santa Maria_. A great breach had
been made and water was deep in her hold, but we could
get at much of casks and chests, and could take away sails
and cordage, even her two cannon. Eventually, as she broke
up, we might float away to shore much of her timber. When
I looked from the wreck to the little Nina, I could see,
limned as it were in air, the Viceroy's first colony, set in
Hispaniola, beside Guacanagari's town. All Christmas day
we toiled and the Indians at our side. We found them ready,
not without skill, gay and biddable.

Toward sunset came Guacanagari. All the little shore was
strewn and heaped with our matters. And here I will say