To our other miseries were added perpetual warlike commotions. The new Governor, Martinez, to ingratiate himself with the King, resolved upon sending two hundred soldiers against the neighbouring hordes of Mocobios and Tobas, out of those four hundred which had been chosen to found the colony. On his consulting with me, I dissuaded him from an expedition, the event of which appeared so uncertain, lest the new colony, which was but poorly stocked with inhabitants, should be involved in war, and perish in its infancy. With the same ardour I recommended it to my Abipones religiously to maintain peace with all; they, however, never had either power or inclination to continue in a state of quiescence. One tumult succeeded to another. Soon after the colony was founded, Ychoalay came, and in a friendly manner desired restitution of the horses lately taken from him. Enraged at receiving a refusal, he set off, with a chosen band of his people, to recover them by force. My Abipones, rendered obstinate by their inveterate hatred to Ychoalay, determined to withstand him to the utmost. Some employed themselves in conveying the horses to a place of greater safety, that they might not be seized by the enemy; whilst others roamed up and down the woods, seeking honey to make mead. I, meantime, was a prey to anxious cares, ignorant what course to pursue when the town should be attacked. Ychoalay, formerly so much my friend, was now become the most dreadful of enemies. "It would be wrong," thought I, "to take up arms against one who is only coming to recover his own; but if, as is most likely, victory declares in his favour, and he puts to death every inhabitant that comes in his way, unless I discharge upon Ychoalay all the lead and gunpowder I have in the house, my Abipones will suspect me of having acted in collusion with him, and will pierce me with spears and arrows." Suspended by these reflections, I stuck, as it were, between the hammer and the anvil, and resolved to do what should seem most advisable at the time.