Next morning, great cries of sorrow were heard in the village and house of Malope, raised by a large assembly of people. The Adelantado ordered that a party should presently go with the head of the Ensign, and give it to the natives, telling them that, as the best thing that could be done, this other life had been taken for the death of Malope. But when the natives saw the boat coming to their village, leaving their mournings, they all fled into the woods. Those in the boat called to them to come back, holding up the head; but it was no use, they all hid themselves. Seeing this, the head was left at the door of the house, and the boat returned. At the petition of the Vicar, the Adelantado ordered the other two heads to be taken down from the poles, that they might be buried. The burial was neglected; and, as they were left that night on the beach, they were found next morning with all the flesh and skin gone, for the dogs had eaten them.

All this time the Adelantado became each day more unwell. He ordered a house to be built for him in great haste, in which, having landed with his family, he established himself.

Now the punishment came down from Heaven which we deserved for our treacheries, disorders, and cruelties, in the shape of sickness without the means of curing it.

The Captain, Don Lorenzo, in whose charge all things were now placed by land and sea, early one morning sent twenty soldiers and an officer in the boat to seize some boys, with the object of teaching them our language, as we could not understand theirs. The natives, who carefully concealed themselves, defended the landing with such vigour that before our men could get back the officer and seven men were wounded with arrows. Enjoying the occasion, they followed up the repulse with many shots of arrows and stones, and with great shouts. They came so near the camp that Don Lorenzo had to issue forth with the banner displayed, and all the rest of the men who were not sick, to defend the gate. As the natives retired, they fired a volley of arrows which went home, wounding six men and Don Lorenzo himself, who were brought in and attended to. Upon this, Don Lorenzo sent a soldier in charge of a party, to burn canoes and houses, and to do as much damage as possible, the result being eight wounded soldiers. With these three victories, all gained on the same day, the natives became so audacious that they shot arrows into the camp at night, and threw stones with such effect that they wounded two men, one of them dying. Owing to the sickness of the Adelantado, and the number of wounded soldiers, we could only defend and secure the camp, the attempts of our soldiers being confined to getting “bledos,” which sometimes cost them dear.

On the Vigil of St. Luke the Evangelist, the first of our companions died, the Chaplain, Antonio de Serpa, for whose decease the Vicar mourned deeply, and raised sad lamentation, turning up his eyes to heaven, and saying: “Oh, my God! how great is the punishment that You send for my sins. You leave me, O Lord, without a priest to whom to confess. O, Father Antonio de Serpa! Happy are you to have died after having received the sacrament. Who would not change places with you, and not remain in mine, in which I am so abandoned, for I can confess all who are here, but have no one to confess me.” He went about with his face hidden, and would not be consoled He went to the church, and wept at the altar. The good Vicar said that, in mourning for the dead, he opened the tomb where he was buried.

On the following night, which was the 17th of October, there was a total eclipse of the moon; when it rose in the east it was completely eclipsed. The Adelantado was so weak that he gave orders about his will, which he could scarcely sign. He left DoÑa Isabel Barreto, his wife, as general heir, and nominated her as Governess, for his Majesty had issued a special decree giving him power to name any person he chose for his successor. He nominated his brother-in-law, Don Lorenzo, to be Captain-General; and, ordering the Vicar to be called, he complied with all the obligations required for his soul.

In this way the night passed, and the day arrived, which was that of St. Luke. Seeing the end so near, the Vicar said that a person of good life knew how much it imported to die well, so that there might be time to make his peace with God. He said other things alike holy and pious, which the Adelantado heard, showing not only attention but great contrition, and making it to be well understood how submissive he was to the will of God who created him. The Vicar had a crucifix brought, in whose presence the Adelantado seemed to bend the knees in his heart. Helping to say the Miserere mei and the Creed, at one o’clock after noon our Adelantado passed from this life, with which there ended his enterprise, so much and for so long a time desired. He was a person zealous for the honour of God and the service of the King, to whom the things ill done did not appear good, nor did those well done appear evil. He was very plain-spoken, not diffuse in giving his reasons, and he himself said that he did not want arguments but deeds. It seemed that he saw clearly those matters which touched his conscience. It seemed to me that he might say with reason that he knew more than he performed, yet he saw nothing that passed by stealth. The Governess felt his death, as did others, though some rejoiced at it.

In the afternoon, with as much pomp as the circumstances would admit, we prepared for his sepulture. The body was placed in a coffin covered with black cloth, and carried on the shoulders of eight persons of the highest rank. The soldiers stood with their arquebuses reversed, in accordance with usage at the funerals of Generals. The procession went with two banners displayed, and from two drums covered with mourning cloth came slow and muffled sounds, while the fife expressed the like sentiments. Arrived at the church, the Vicar performed the service, and we then returned to the Governess to condole with her on her misfortune.