"I am Pedro, son of Pedro who was an escaladero (climber) at the siege
of Alhama. He was killed on the way home, and my mother died of grief,
so that I get my bread where the saints put it. People say that they
unlocked all the jails to get you your crew for the Indies, and now I
see that it is true."

Juan de la Cosa knew the untamable sauciness of the Vizcayan breed, and
knew as well the loyalty that went with it. "Son," he said seriously,
"what do you know of this matter?" The boy put aside his insolence and
spoke gravely.

"I know that these fellows who have been commanded to serve your Admiral
hate him, and will make him lose his venture if they can. I would sooner
put to sea in a meal-tub with myself that I can trust, than in a Cadiz
galley manned with plotters. When they hauled this fine ship up on the
beach I asked for a job, and the lazy fellows were glad enough of help.
I never minded doing their work if they hadn't kicked me. When I heard
them planning I said to myself, 'Pedro, mi hidalgo, a crow in hand is
worth two buzzards in the bush waiting to pick your bones.' Your
Admiral may have to go back to Castile and eat crow.

"They have agreed that they will sail seven hundred leagues and no more,
since that is the distance from here to the Indies if your map is true.
If the Admiral refuse to turn back in case land is not found they will
pitch him into the sea and tell the world that he was star-gazing and
fell overboard, being an old man and unused to perilous voyages. He
should get him another crew--if he can."

This was important information. Yet to go back might be more dangerous
than to go on. The expedition had already been delayed a fortnight with