It is illustrative of the capricious and light-hearted spirit of disobedience to all authority, save what force imposed, which characterised Spanish officials in America, that the first thing De Soto did, before the ship bearing Las Casas was barely out of sight, was to send away his two vessels, one in one direction and the other in the opposite, to fish for pearls and, if possible, to capture Indians. The natives were in a state of unrest owing to the continual vexations of the people of Cubagua and also of Las Casas’s men who, as soon as he was gone, became almost as bad as the others. The beautiful speeches in which peace and justice and friendship were promised for the future, under the powerful protection of the new King of Spain, had resulted in nothing, and the last illusion of the Indians vanished with the disappearance of the ship that bore their protector towards Hispaniola. A general massacre of the colony was concerted to take place about fifteen days after Las Casas left. The Franciscans got wind of it three days before the date fixed and though the Indian woman Maria, when asked, denied the plot in words, she conveyed to the friars by gestures that she had lied because the presence of other Indians intimidated her from telling the truth. A Spanish trading ship arrived in these days, but in spite of the colonists’ prayers to be taken on board the captain refused, so the hapless men were left to their fate. At the last moment an effort was made to organise some defence and twelve or fourteen pieces of artillery were mounted around the storehouse, but when they came to examine the powder, it was found—oh, Spanish improvidence!—to be so damp that it was useless. At sunrise they thought to dry it, but they were too late, for with fierce war-whoops, the Indians were upon them; three of their number were killed and the store-house, in which the others had barricaded themselves, was set on fire. Fortunately there was a small door that gave access to the garden, through which they escaped from the burning building. De Soto, who had been out to reconnoitre the town was wounded with a poisoned arrow, but managed to reach the garden where the others were. The friars had constructed a canal through their garden leading to the river and on this they had a large Indian canoe capable of holding fifty persons. This canoe was now their sole hope of safety and everybody managed to get into it, save one unfortunate lay-brother who had taken refuge among some reeds along the bank and was only discovered after the canoe had pushed off. Seeing his companions borne swiftly away on the saving current, he rose from his hiding-place with despairing gestures of appeal, but though every effort was made to reach him it was in vain, and he, poor man, seeing that his situation was hopeless, signalled to them with pathetic heroism to leave him and save themselves while they could. He was killed a few