queen may undertake the recovery of the Holy Sepulchre."

On January 4, 1493, just a year after Columbus had been dismissed from
Granada for asking to be made Admiral and Viceroy of the undiscovered
lands in the west, he turned his back on those lands now discovered and
started home. Not, however, with three ships, for we have learned what
happened to the _Santa Maria_; not even with two ships, for we have
_not_ yet learned what happened to the _Pinta_, which Martin
Pinzon commanded. Martin had deserted a month before the shipwreck. Yes,
that good and capable navigator, who had helped so much to get the
expedition started, had struck off with his picked Palos men on a
different course, without asking leave from his Admiral. Nor was this
all; for according to the Journal, Martin had "by his language and
actions occasioned many other troubles." Columbus professes that
Pinzon's conduct mystified him. It was on November 21 that the
_Pinta_ started off. Columbus could not believe his eyes, he says.
Thinking that the ship must soon come back, all that night he "burned a
torch, because the night was clear and there was a nice little breeze by
which Martin could have come had he wished." But Martin did not wish. He
still had hopes, perhaps, of finding Cipango before returning to Spain.

And so, on January 4, when Columbus gave the pilot orders to set the
rudder for home, there was left only the smallest caravel of all, the
_Nina_. They kept on among the islands, frequently landing, and had
many more adventures before they struck the open sea. Always they asked
for gold, and sometimes they learned that it could be procured by
journeying "eastward," but more often, "west." In one place they had a
new experience--a shower of unfriendly arrows. In another island the
soil and trees so nearly corresponded to what Columbus and Pinzon had
read of Cipango that Columbus believed for a moment that he had reached