Shortly after this, the Spaniards thought they perceived the _tide_. After another day's voyage, they came to some inhabited islands, and, to their infinite joy, saw that they had not been mistaken; for the marks of the tide here were certain. Here they lost another of their party in a skirmish with the natives. From this place the country was low; and they could never venture to land, except upon the islands, among which they sailed, as they supposed, about two hundred leagues; the tide coming up with great force. One day the smaller vessel struck upon a snag, which stove in one of her planks, and she filled. They, however, landed to seek for provisions; but the inhabitants attacked them with such force, that they were forced to retire; and, when they came to their vessels, they found that the tide had left the only serviceable one dry. Orellana ordered half his men to fight, and the other half to thrust the vessel into the water: that done, they righted the old brigantine, and fastened in a new plank, all which was completed in three hours, by which time the Indians were weary of fighting, and left them in peace. The next day they found a desert place, where Orellana halted to repair both vessels. This took them eighteen days, during which they suffered much from hunger. As they drew near the sea, they halted again for fourteen days, to prepare for their sea-voyage; made cordage of herbs; and sewed the cloaks, on which they slept, into sails. On the 8th of August, they proceeded again, anchoring with stones when the tide turned, though it sometimes came in such strength as to drag these miserable anchors. Here the natives were happily of a milder mood than those whom they had lately dealt with. From them they procured roots and Indian corn; and, having laid in what store they could, they made ready to enter upon the sea in these frail vessels, with their miserable tackling, and with insufficient food, without pilot, compass, or any knowledge of the coast.