On the ninth of May, 1502, ten years after his first voyage, the gray-haired navigator set sail from Cadiz and steered for the Canary Islands. The voyage thus far was very fortunate, except that one of his vessels, the largest one, was such a slow sailer that it was very difficult to keep up with the others. He therefore first directed his course to Hispaniola that he might exchange this useless vessel for another. As soon as he reached the island he sent a messenger to Ovando, acquainting him with the reasons for his arrival and asking permission to enter the harbor. The governor, however, did not believe he had the right to grant this request as a different course had been laid out for him, and he had been forbidden to go to Hispaniola. So the Admiral had to submit to a humiliation which he must have expected. Notwithstanding his indignation he called the attention of Ovando to the fact, of which he was certain from long experience, that a violent storm was approaching. He begged for permission therefore to enter the harbor and remain there until the storm subsided. The governor at this time was about to send a considerable fleet to Spain. Columbus’ proposal, however, was disregarded. His petition was rejected, his advice spurned, and his warning was laughed at as the fancy of a conceited, knavish weather prophet. Meanwhile the Spanish homeward-bound fleet set sail. But the Heavens avenged the slight which had been put upon Columbus. The storm which he had foreseen came in all its fury. Columbus saved himself by keeping close in to shore and his vessels escaped. Ovando’s richly laden fleet, however, on its way to Spain, became the prey of the storm. Roldan and Bobadilla paid the penalty of their treachery to Columbus and perished in the waters. When the Admiral learned later that they were among the drowned, he had no doubt that an overruling Power had thus punished these traitors. With righteous indignation Columbus left the island, which he had discovered and which had been refused him as a shelter from a terrible storm, and sailed westward for the mainland. He was beset by many dangers on this voyage but finally had the good fortune to reach an island called Guanaja, lying not far from the main coast of Honduras. As soon as he had come to anchor he sent his brother Bartolomeo with some armed men ashore to make investigations. As Bartolomeo approached the beach he met a large Indian boat much more skilfully built than any he had ever seen before in that region. It was of considerable length, eight feet wide, and covered in the middle with a roof of palm leaves which gave it the appearance of a large gondola. The wives and children of the Indians were on board, besides twenty-five men. As soon as they were overtaken they gave themselves up as prisoners, without resistance, although they were armed. Their cargo was examined and found to consist of woollen stuffs, some pieces of