hundred and fifty leagues. Colón wondered whether there could be an
error in the map, or whether by swerving from their course they had
passed between islands into the southern sea. Pedro, as sensitive as a
dog to the moods of his master, watched the Admiral's face as he came
and went, and wondered in his turn.

The pilots and shipmasters were cautious in expressing their fears
within hearing of the sailors, for by this time every one in authority
knew that open mutiny might break out at any moment. On the evening of
October 10 a delegation of anxious officers came to explain to the
Admiral that they could not hold the panic-stricken crews. If no land
appeared within a week their provisions would not last until they
reached home; they had not enough water to last through the homeward
voyage even now. The Admiral knew as well as they the horrors of thirst
and famine at sea, particularly with a crew of the kind they had been
obliged to ship. What did he intend to do?

The Admiral, seated at his table, finished the sentence he was adding in
his neat, legible hand to his log, put it aside, put the pen in the case
which hung at his belt, closed his ink-horn. His quiet eyes rested
fearlessly on their uneasy faces.

"This expedition," he said calmly, "has been sent out to look for the
Indies. With God's blessing we shall continue to look for them until we
find them. Say to the men, however, that if they will wait two or three
days I think they will see land."

Next morning Pedro was engaged in polishing his master's steel corslet
and casque, while near by two or three sailors conferred in low tones.