Unfortunately there was no golden cargo to send back with him. As much
gold as possible was scraped together, but it was very little. The usual
assortment of samples of various island products was also sent; but still
the vessels were practically empty. Columbus must have been painfully
conscious that the time for sending samples had more than expired, and
that the people in Spain might reasonably expect some of the actual
riches of which there had been so many specimens and promises. In
something approaching desperation, he decided to fill the empty holds of
the ships with something which, if it was not actual money, could at
least be made to realise money. From their sunny dreaming life on the
island five hundred natives were taken and lodged in the dark holds of
the caravels, to be sent to Spain and sold there for what they would
fetch. Of course they were to be "freed" and converted to Christianity
in the process; that was always part of the programme, but it did not
interfere with business. They were not man-eating Caribs or fierce
marauding savages from neighbouring islands, but were of the mild and
peaceable race that peopled Espanola. The wheels of civilisation were
beginning to turn in the New World.

After the capture of Caonabo and the massacre of April 25th Columbus
marched through the island, receiving the surrender and submission of the
terrified natives. At the approach of his force the caciques came out
and sued for peace; and if here and there there was a momentary
resistance, a charge of cavalry soon put an end to it. One by one the
kings surrendered and laid down their arms, until all the island rulers
had capitulated with the exception of Behechio, into whose territory
Columbus did not march, and who sullenly retired to the south-western
corner of the island. The terms of peace were harsh enough, and were
suggested by the dilemma of Columbus in his frantic desire to get
together some gold at any cost. A tribute of gold-dust was laid upon