one man, however, with a silver ring in his nose, who was understood to say that the king lived four days’ journey in the interior, and that messengers had been sent to him to tell him of the arrival of the strange ships; which messengers would doubtless soon return bringing merchants with them to trade with the ships.  If this native was lying he showed great ingenuity in inventing the kind of story that his questioners wanted; but it is more likely that his utterances were interpreted by Columbus in the light of his own ardent beliefs.  At any rate it was decided to send at once a couple of envoys to this great city, and not to wait for the arrival of the merchants.  Two Spaniards, Rodrigo de Jerez and Luis de Torres, the interpreter to the expedition —­who had so far found little use for his Hebrew and Chaldean—­were chosen; and with them were sent two Indians, one from San Salvador and the other a local native who went as guide.  Red caps and beads and hawks’ bells were duly provided, and a message for the king was given to them telling him that Columbus was waiting with letters and presents from Spanish sovereigns, which he was to deliver personally.  After the envoys had departed, Columbus, whose ships were anchored in a large basin of deep water with a clean and steep beach, decided to take the opportunity of having the vessels careened.  Their hulls were covered with shell and weed; the caulking, which had been dishonestly done at Palos, had also to be attended to; so the ships were beached and hove down one at a time —­an unnecessary precaution, as it turned out, for there was no sign of treachery on the part of the natives.  While the men were making fires to heat their tar they noticed that the burning wood sent forth a heavy odour which was like mastic; and the Admiral, now always busy with optimistic calculations, reckoned that there was enough in that vicinity to furnish a thousand quintals every year.  While the work on the ships was going forward he employed himself in his usual way, going ashore, examining the trees and vegetables and fruits, and holding such communication as he was able with the natives.  He was up every morning at dawn, at one time directing the work of his men, at another going ashore after some birds that he had seen; and as dawn comes early in those islands his day was probably a long one, and it is likely that he was in bed soon after dark.  On the day that he went shooting, Martin Alonso Pinzon was waiting for him on his return; this time not to make any difficulties or independent proposals, but to show him two pieces of cinnamon that one of his men had got from an Indian who was carrying a quantity of it.  “Why did the man not get it all from him?” says greedy Columbus.  “Because of the prohibition of the Admiral’s that no one should do any trading,” says Martin Alonso, and conceives himself to have scored; for truly these two men do not love one another.  The boatswain of the Pinta, adds Martin Alonso, has