The company was commanded by John Ribault, a very good and brave man, and one not likely to be discouraged, for it needed a brave heart to lead these people so far from their loved France and find homes for them in a strange land. The voyage was very long and so stormy that it seemed sometimes they would never reach America at all, and they grew very tired of the sight of the sea, always so gray and threatening, looking like a great monster ready to devour them all; but at last, one beautiful spring day, as they stood looking wearily toward the west, a very fair and pleasant country met their view. A shining, level beach stretched up and down, and behind this the land was green with great trees whose waving branches seemed to nod a welcome to the strangers. As far as they could see this beautiful forest was all that met their eyes, not a sign of hill or mountain; and the next day, when, after sailing along the coast a little way, they entered the mouth of a deep, broad river, and saw the fresh meadow grass, and smelled the perfume of the shrubs and flowers, they thought that they had been indeed led to a pleasant home, and hoped that their troubles were over. It was on the first day of May, 1562, that they landed on the banks of this river, and for that reason they called it the river of May--it is now known as the St. John. The Indians, no doubt, wondered very much to see these white strangers, but they received them very kindly and showed them by signs and gifts that they wished to be friends; they brought them finely-dressed skins, and leather girdles, and strings of pearls, and golden ornaments; and the French gave in return some colored beads and shining knives, and--most wonderful of all to the Indians--squares of tiny looking-glasses. These seemed very beautiful to the simple natives, who had never seen their faces before except in the clear waters of their lakes and rivers.