Vespucci wrote his book some years later, and as it was the first popular account of the new Spanish possessions and was written in a lively and entertaining style it had a great reputation. It gave to the natives of the country the name which they have ever since borne--Indians. A German geographer who much admired the work suggested that an appropriate mark of appreciation would be to name the new continent America, after Vespucci, and this was done. Vespucci described all that he saw and some things of which he heard, using care and discretion, and if he suspected that the captain of the Bristol ship was Sebastian Cabot, later pilot-major of Spain, he did not say so. NOTE Amerigo Vespucci has been unjustly accused of endeavoring to steal the glory of Columbus, but there is no evidence that he ever contemplated anything of the kind. It was a German geographer's suggestion that the continent be named America. THE GOLD ROAD O the Gold Road is a hard road, And it leads beyond the sea,-- Some follow it through the altar gates And some to the gallows tree. And they who squander the gold they earn On kin-folk ill to please Go soon to the grave, but he toils in the grave-- The miner upon his knees. The Gold Road is a dark road-- No bird by the wayside sings, No sun shines into the canons deep, No children's laughter rings. They are slaves who delve in the stubborn rocks For the pittance their labor brings. Their bread is bitter who toil for their own, But they starve who toil for Kings. The Gold Road is a small road,-- A man must tread it alone, With none to help if he faint or fall, And none to hear his groan. The weight of gold is a weary weight When we toil for the sake of our own-- But our masters are branding our hearts and souls With a Christ that is carved in stone! VIII THE DOG WITH TWO MASTERS "They fight among themselves too much. They need the man with the whip." "_Bough! wough!_" "_Yar-r-rh! arrh!--agh!_" A spirited and entertaining dog-fight was going on just outside the house of the governor of Darien. The deep sullen roar of Balboa's big hound Leoncico was as unmistakable as the snarling, snapping, furious bark of Cacafuego, who belonged to the Bachelor Enciso. The two hated each other at sight, months ago. Now they were having it out. The man with the whip evidently came on the scene, for there was a final crescendo of barks, yelps and growls, followed by silence.