The cavalier, eager to win
both gold and glory at the point of his lance, thought to find a
fair field for his prowess on the mountain plains of the Andes.
Ferdinand Pizarro found that his brother had judged rightly in
allowing as many of his company as chose to return home,
confident that the display of their wealth would draw ten to his
banner for every one that quitted it.
In a short time that cavalier saw himself at the head of one of
the most numerous and well-appointed armaments, probably, that
had left the shores of Spain since the great fleet of Ovando, in
the time of Ferdinand and Isabella. It was scarcely more
fortunate than this. Hardly had Ferdinand put to sea, when a
violent tempest fell on the squadron, and compelled him to return
to port and refit. At length he crossed the ocean, and reached
the little harbour of Nombre de Dios in safety. But no
preparations had been made for his coming, and, as he was
detained here some time before he could pass the mountains, his
company suffered greatly from scarcity of food. In their
extremity, the most unwholesome articles were greedily devoured,
and many a cavalier spent his little savings to procure himself a
miserable subsistence. Disease, as usual, trod closely in the
track of famine, and numbers of the unfortunate adventurers,
sinking under the unaccustomed heats of the climate, perished on
the very threshold of discovery.
It was the tale often repeated in the history of Spanish
enterprise.
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