“Certainly the cloud was there, for we all saw it, and when the Commander said that he would stay to see whether it would change when the moon changed, we liked it not, I can tell you.  And when we learned that he was minded to sail straight into the darkness and see what lay behind it, why, there were some who would have run away—­if they could have run anywhere but into the sea.

“But we had a Spanish pilot, Morales, who had once been a prisoner in Morocco, and there he knew two Englishmen who had sailed these seas in time past.  Their ship had been lying ready to sail for France, when late at night Robert Macham, a gentleman of their country, came hurriedly aboard with his lady love whom he had carried off from her home in Bristol, and between dark and dawn the captain weighed anchor and was off.  Then being driven from the course the ship was cast on a thickly wooded island with a high mountain in the middle, where they dwelt not long, for the lady died, and Macham died of grief.  The crew left the island and were wrecked in Morocco and made slaves.  All this was many years before, for the Englishmen had grown old in slavery, and Morales himself had grown old since he heard the tale.

“It was the belief of Morales that this was the island of which they told, and that the cloud which hung above the waters was the mist arising from those dense woods which covered it.  The upshot was that the commander set sail one morning early and steered straight for the cloud.

“The nearer we came the higher and thicker looked the darkness that spread over the sea, and we heard about noon a great roaring of the waves.  Still Gonsales held his course, and when the wind failed he ordered out the boats to tow the ship into the cloud, and I was one of those who rowed.  As we got closer it was not quite so dark, but the roaring was louder, although the sea was smooth.  Then through the darkness we beheld tall black objects which we guessed to be giants walking in the water, but as we came nearer we saw that they were great rocks, and before us loomed a high mountain covered with thick woods.

“We found no place to land but a cave under a rock that overhung the sea, and that was trodden all over the bottom by the sea-wolves, so that Gonsales named it the Camera dos Lobos.  The island, because of its forests, he called Madeira.  When we came back, having taken possession of the island for the King, he sent a colony to settle upon it, and the first boy and girl born there were named Adam and Eva.  The people set fire to the trees, which were in their way, and could not put out the fire, so that it burned for seven years and all the trees were destroyed.  And the King gave our commander the right to carry as supporters on his coat-of-arms two sea-wolves.”

Beatriz drew a long breath.  “Weren’t you very scared, Tio Sancho?”

“Sailors must not be scared, little one.  Or if they are, they must never let their arms and legs be scared.  We knew that we had to obey orders or be dead, so we obeyed.  I have been glad many a time since that I sailed with Gonsales and old Morales to the discovery of Madeira.”