Columbus whispered instructions to de Torres, who shrugged and began to talk to the natives in English, Spanish, Arabic, French, Hebrew and Aramaic. The leader just looked at him, owl-eyed. Eventually, he did reply, his voice low and guttural. He pointed up to the skies, then at de Torres, who laughed and shook his head.
‘I can’t understand them fully, sir,’ he informed Columbus, ‘but he thinks we come from Heaven.’
The man began to talk again. Matthias, who had edged forward to study these people more closely, saw the look of welcome on the man’s face being replaced by that of fear. The leader repeated the word ‘Caniba’, and pointed out in a southerly direction. The word was taken up by his companions. De Torres caught their drift. He shook his head.
‘Not Caniba! Not Caniba!’ he replied.
Again the man spoke, this time using sign language. Despite the heat Matthias felt a chill go down his back. This young subject of the Great Khan left little to the imagination and Matthias almost knew how de Torres was going to translate it for Columbus.
‘He wants assurances that we are not the Caniba,’ he declared. ‘They are the great enemies of these people.’ He paused as the young Indian intervened and made waving movements with his hand. ‘He says they come here in great canoes,’ de Torres said slowly. ‘They take them prisoner, cut their throats, drink their blood and eat their flesh.’
‘They are not armed,’ Martin Pinzon spoke up. ‘Have you noticed that, sir? They carry no arms.’
Pinzon was correct. Matthias could see no bow or arrow, no sword, daggers, clubs or axes. De Torres drew his sword and held it up so it caught the sunlight. The natives gasped and stared, amazed. He handed the sword to the leader. However, instead of grasping the hilt, the man touched the blade and cut his finger. He stared down in astonishment at the blood welling from the small cut.
‘They know nothing of weapons,’ Escobedo whispered. ‘But Marco Polo, in his journals, says the subjects of the Great Khan are well armed.’
De Torres now sheathed his sword and, when he used a crossbow to bring down a seabird, the natives fell to the sand. Matthias began to wonder. Had they reached Cathay? The great island of Cipango? Or were they somewhere else? Who were these people who acted so innocently? Had they reached a paradise? But, if so, who were the Caniba? Was this a place where both the angels and demons lived? Matthias remembered that mysterious voice: he also wondered who, amongst these people with their childlike faces and innocent ways, had brought Columbus in by showing that mysterious light the evening before? The Captain General, however, had now noticed the small studs of gold in the natives’ noses and ears. He pointed at these and excitedly asked de Torres where they were from? The native leader, surprised by Columbus’ excitement, shrugged, took the gold from his nose and ears and handed it over. He pointed further south, chattering in his own tongue. Columbus stared round, not even waiting for de Torres to translate.
‘We are on the outskirts of Cathay,’ he declared. ‘Their mines and quarries, from which this gold came, must lie to the south.’ He snapped his fingers.
Baldini opened a small chest and Columbus distributed gifts: beads, coins, pieces of cloth and red bonnets. The natives, excited, took them like children seizing toys, only too willing to hand over the small pieces of gold they wore. Columbus then gave strict instructions that the people were not to be harmed or abused in any way.
‘They are,’ he declared, ‘the subjects of their Catholic Majesties.’
After they returned to the ships, those lucky enough to have accompanied the Captain General described what the rest had only seen from afar. Columbus loudly proclaimed he had found the Indies and was determined to sail south. However, late in the afternoon, more of the natives in long dugouts, the oars of which looked like bakers’ shovels, came out to greet all three ships. They brought more gifts, strange-looking fruits and small carvings. Columbus allowed some of the people on board and these gazed in wonderment up at the rigging. When the Captain General gave the order for one of the bombards to be fired, the natives caused much merriment by simply jumping overboard but, when they realised the sound meant them no harm, they laughed and splashed in the water like children.
Columbus sent another party ashore. These brought back cotton threads, multicoloured parrots and hooks made out of fishbones. They described strange plants and trees, talked of inner lakes full of fresh water, flocks of birds never seen before, so many they could darken the sun. Villages with huts made out of palm leaves: enormous snakes and other strange creatures. Matthias, like the rest, listened in wonderment. They also discovered the place they had landed was called Guaharini but Columbus rechristened it San Salvador. De Torres was unable to discover what tongue the natives spoke but soon they established a common list of words and left the rest to sign language. Columbus learnt that there were two islands further along the coast much larger than this, called Colba and Bohio. The Captain General was determined to reach these and, in the succeeding days, the Santa Maria and its two caravels edged along the coastline.
Columbus still maintained an iron discipline, placing lookouts with strict instructions, for the entire coastline was protected by a long line of cruel-looking reefs which could rip the bottom out of any of his craft. The Captain General soon proved he was a brilliant navigator. Time and again he managed to thread through these reefs into naturally formed harbours and ports. They landed on two more islands which were christened Isabella and Hispaniola. The natives were like those they first met, friendly, unarmed, innocent and eager to please. Sometimes Columbus took a few with him, determined that they would be his scouts who would eventually lead him to the great kingdom of the Khan.
Matthias found the voyage strange. Blue skies, soft white fluffy clouds, gentle breezes and warm sun prevailed. He recalled how, in England, autumn would be giving way to winter, with savage cold winds, driving sleet, dying leaves and iron-grey skies. Matthias was still perplexed, unable to establish what was so special about this place: why the Rose Demon and his followers such as Morgana had been so determined that he come here.
Even the Captain General now suspected that, perhaps, he had not reached the Indies. He took careful note of the fruits, trees, birds and creatures they discovered. Some of these were killed and dried for passage back to Spain but the Captain General still cherished dreams of casks of silver.
They eventually reached Colba, which Columbus renamed Cuba: high mountains soaring up to the sky, strange palm trees. The natives were similar to those they had met earlier, bringing out beds made out of netting, small gold figurines, harpoons and fruit. They listened patiently to Columbus’ interminable questions about Golden Cathay, nodding and pointing, as the others had, further south. All of them were friendly and showed no fear of Columbus and his party until the word ‘Caniba’ was used. In Cuba the daughter of a chieftain came aboard. De Torres questioned her closely. ‘The Caniba,’ de Torres explained, having listened carefully to the young woman, ‘live further to the south.’ He paused as the young woman chattered again. ‘They paint their faces red and have cords tied along their legs and arms,’ de Torres translated. ‘They come in long canoes and raid these islands. They take the people and use their flesh as meat: small babies they regard as a delicacy. They show no mercy or compassion.’