They do indeed cut into the flesh, and constrain him to a most uncomfortable position. And he such a gentleman-savage! Juan Sanchez is not the man to sit there and see a fellow-creature unnecessarily suffer; he cannot do it. The thongs which lacerate the prisoner's wrists are loosened, the cord which binds him to the seat is untied; but for security—for above all this great chief must be kept secure—one end of it the ever-watchful pilot twists round his hand. Night comes on. It is very dark, but the captives are quiet, and the boat glides noiselessly down the stream. Suddenly the light craft sways; a plunge is heard; the pilot feels his hand violently wrenched; he must loosen his hold or be drawn into the water. It is all as the flash of a pistol in point of time; the quibian's seat is empty; and honest Juan Sanchez is obliged to present his hanging front before his comrades, a Spaniard outwitted by a savage! * * * * * After scouring the country in several directions, the adelantado returned to the ships, bringing gold-plates, wristlets, and anklets to the value of three hundred ducats, which were divided, after deducting the king's fifth. Among the spoils taken from the quibian were two golden coronets, one of which was presented to Bartolomé by the admiral. Notwithstanding the escape of the chief, who, after all, was probably drowned, Columbus proceeded to execute his plans. There were the king's household and his chief men safely on board, and these should be sufficient to guarantee the tranquillity of the nations. So the arrangements for the comfort and security of the colony during the contemplated absence of the admiral were hastened to completion. The three vessels, after discharging part of their cargoes, were carried by the newly swollen stream over the bar, and reloaded. There they lay at anchor waiting a favorable wind. [Sidenote: THE COUNTRY ROUSED.] All this time, however, the Spaniards were reckoning without their host. The quibian was not dead. In spite of his bonds, he had made good his escape. After his bold plunge, finding himself free from the boat, he had extricated his wrists from the loosened cords, swam beneath the water to the bank, and had set out for his village, resolving vengeance. And now, hastily arming a thousand warriors, he attacked the Spaniards under cover of the dense vegetation, killing one and wounding eight, but was soon repulsed with heavy loss. Shortly afterward Diego Tristan, coming ashore from one of the vessels with eleven men, recklessly ascended the river a league for wood and water. All but one were killed.[IV-24] * * * * *