The Spaniards told them, with great kindness, that if they were resolved to go they should not go like naked men, and be in no condition to defend themselves; and that though they could ill spare firearms, not having enough for themselves, yet they would let them have two muskets, a pistol, and a cutlass, and each man a hatchet, which they thought was sufficient for them.  In a word, they accepted the offer; and having baked bread enough to serve them a month given them, and as much goats’ flesh as they could eat while it was sweet, with a great basket of dried grapes, a pot of fresh water, and a young kid alive, they boldly set out in the canoe for a voyage over the sea, where it was at least forty miles broad.  The boat, indeed, was a large one, and would very well have carried fifteen or twenty men, and therefore was rather too big for them to manage; but as they had a fair breeze and flood-tide with them, they did well enough.  They had made a mast of a long pole, and a sail of four large goat-skins dried, which they had sewed or laced together; and away they went merrily together.  The Spaniards called after them “Bon voyajo;” and no man ever thought of seeing them any more.

The Spaniards were often saying to one another, and to the two honest Englishmen who remained behind, how quietly and comfortably they lived, now these three turbulent fellows were gone.  As for their coming again, that was the remotest thing from their thoughts that could be imagined; when, behold, after two-and-twenty days’ absence, one of the Englishmen being abroad upon his planting work, sees three strange men coming towards him at a distance, with guns upon their shoulders.

Away runs the Englishman, frightened and amazed, as if he was bewitched, to the governor Spaniard, and tells him they were all undone, for there were strangers upon the island, but he could not tell who they were.  The Spaniard, pausing a while, says to him, “How do you mean—­you cannot tell who?  They are the savages, to be sure.”  “No, no,” says the Englishman, “they are men in clothes, with arms.”  “Nay, then,” says the Spaniard, “why are you so concerned!  If they are not savages they must be friends; for there is no Christian nation upon earth but will do us good rather than harm.”  While they were debating thus, came up the three Englishmen, and standing without the wood, which was new planted, hallooed to them.  They presently knew their voices, and so all the wonder ceased.  But now the admiration was turned upon another question—­What could be the matter, and what made them come back again?