The career of Alonso de Ojeda is one of the most picturesque and adventurous in early Spanish-American history, and his character is typical of the young Spanish cavalier of the age just following the discovery of America. The episodes here used, with many others quite as dramatic, are described at length in Irving's "Life of Columbus." THE ESCAPE Why do you come here, white men, white men? Why do you bend the knee When your priests before you, singing, singing, Lift the cross, the cross of tree? Flashing in the sunlight, rainbows waking, Move your mighty oars keeping time. Sailors heave your anchors, chanting, chanting Some strange and mystic rime. Pearls and gold we bring you, feathers of our wild birds, Glowing in the sunshine like flowers. Houses we will build you, food and clothing find you, You shall share in all that is ours. Why do you frighten us, white men, white men? Can you not be friends for a day? Souls are like the sea-birds, flying, flying, Borne by the sea-wind away. Why do you chain us in the mines of the mountains? Why do you hunt us with your hounds? We who were so free, are we evermore to be Prisoned in your narrow hateful bounds? One escape is left us, white men, white men,-- You cannot forbid our souls to fly To the stars of freedom, far beyond the sunset,-- We whom you have captured can die! VI LOCKED HARBORS "But of what use is a King's patent," said Hugh Thorne of Bristol, "if the harbors be locked?" The Italian merchant glanced up from his papers and smiled, which was all the answer the Englishman seemed to expect, for he stormed on, "Here have we better fleeces than Spain, better wheat than France, finer cattle than the Netherlands, the tin of Cornwall, the flax of Kent and Durham, and our people starve or live rudely because of the fettering of our trade." "'T is a sad misfortune," said the merchant. "In a world so great as this there is surely room for all to work and all to get reward for their labor. But so long as the English merchant guilds wear away their time and substance in fighting one another I fear 't will be no better." Thorne flung his cloak about him with an impatient gesture. "That's true," he answered, "the Spaniards hold by Spain, and all the Hanse merchants by one another, but our English go every man for himself and the devil take the hindmost. I speak freely to you, friend, because you have cast in your lot with us West Country folk and are content to be called John Cabot." The other smiled again, his quick childlike smile, and went with his guest to the door. When he entered again his small private room a dark-eyed boy of five was crawling out from under the table. "Dad," he inquired solemnly, "vat is a locked harbor?"