After three days sail, observing a creek which we hoped might lead to fresh water, fifteen sailors and three soldiers went on shore to examine it; but the only water they could find was salt, and some which they got from pits which they sunk on the shore was not drinkable even in our distressed situation.  This was called Alligators Creek, as it contained a great number of these animals.  The prevailing winds at this time were from the north and north-east, which increased to a storm, in which we were near perishing.  When it subsided, we determined on returning to the Havanna; but, by the advice of Alaminos, we made in the first place for the coast of Florida, which by his charts, and the observations he had made of our voyage, was 70 leagues distant.  He was well acquainted with this navigation, as he had been there ten or twelve years before[1] with Juan Ponce de Leon, and steering across the gulf, we came to that country in four days sail.  Our first object was to obtain a supply of water; for our captain was sinking daily under the distress of his wounds and intolerable thirst, and we were all in much need of that indispensable necessary of life.  Twenty of us, among whom I was one, went on shore with the casks as soon as possible, being warned by Alaminos to be on our guard against a sudden attack from the natives, who had fallen upon him by surprise when formerly on that coast.  We accordingly posted a guard in an open place near the shore, and set about digging some pits, in which we had the satisfaction to find excellent water.  We remained about an hour washing our linens and bathing our wounds, which delay enabled the Indians to attack us, one of our centinels giving us the alarm only a few moments before they appeared.  The Indians, who were tall, athletic men, dressed in the skins of beasts, immediately let fly a shower of arrows, by which six of us were wounded, and myself among the rest.  We soon beat them off, however, when they went to the assistance of another party who had come round in some canoes, and were dragging away our boat, after wounding Alaminos and four sailors.  We followed them as quickly as possible, wading up to our middles in the sea, and rescued the boat, after killing twenty-two of the Indians, and making prisoners of three who were only slightly wounded, yet died afterwards during our voyage to Cuba.

After the natives were driven away, we inquired of the soldier who gave us the alarm of the enemy, what had become of his comrade?  He reported, that a short time before he came to us, his companion went to the water side to cut down a palmito, and soon afterwards, hearing him cry out, being as he supposed in the hands of the enemy, he ran towards us and gave the alarm.  The soldier thus amissing, named Berrio, was the only person who escaped from Pontonchan unwounded.  We went to seek for him, and found the palmito he had begun to cut, around which the ground was much trodden, but no trace of blood, from which we concluded