But the skillfulest mariner cannot know what to-morrow may bring forth.
How was even an "Admiral of the Ocean Seas" to know that when he went to
bed on Christmas Eve, his helmsman would soon sneak from his post and
hand the rudder to a little cabin-boy. The night was calm and warm, as
December generally is in those southern waters. The Admiral had been up
night and day when cruising along the Cuban coast, and now thought he
might safely take a few hours' repose. Few hours, indeed, for soon after
midnight he hears the cabin-boy screaming "danger!" A strong,
unsuspected current has carried the tiller out of his weak hands, and
the _Santa Maria_ is scraping on a sandy bottom. Instantly the
Admiral is on deck, and the disobedient helmsman is roused from his
sleep. At once Columbus sees that their only possible salvation is to
launch the ship's boat and lay out an anchor well astern; he orders the
helmsman and another sailor--for they are all rushing on deck now--to do
so. But the minute they touch water the frightened, contemptible
creatures row quickly away and ask the _Nina_ to take them aboard.
The _Santa Maria_ grates a little farther down into the sand bar
and swings sidewise. Columbus orders them to cut the mainmast away,
hoping to steady her some, but it proves useless; the ship's seams are
opening; the water is rushing in; they must abandon her to her fate. So
they all follow that cur of a helmsman and crowd on to the _Nina_.
Did ever a Christmas morning dawn more dismally?

The island of Haiti had several kings or caciques. The one who lived
near the Admiral's landing place had been extremely friendly to his
strange visitors, and when in the morning he saw their sad plight, he
sent all the people of the town out in large canoes to unload the ship.
He himself came down to the shore and took every precaution that the
goods should be brought safely to land and cared for. The next day,
Wednesday, December 26, the diary recorded:--