"That is a shrewd question. You know I have a theory that a man is known
by his dog. This beast seems to have changed character when he changed
masters. When Enciso had him he was little more than a puppy, and then
he was thievish and cowardly. Now he will attack an Indian as savagely
as Leoncico himself. Pizarro must have put the iron into him."
"Pizarro can," said Balboa carelessly. "He does it with his men. I think
there is more in that fellow than we have supposed. We shall see--this
expedition will be a kind of test."
Saavedra, as he went to his own quarters, wondered whether Balboa were
really as unconscious and unsuspicious as he seemed.
"Like dog, like master," he said to himself. "Cacafuego shifted collars
as easily as any mongrel does--as readily as Pizarro himself would. I
think that Leoncico, left here without Balboa, would die. Neither a dog
or a man has any business with two masters. I wonder whether in the end
we shall conquer this land, or find that the land has conquered us?"
Balboa set forth with one hundred and ninety picked men and a few
bloodhounds. Half the company remained on shore at Coyba to guard the
brigantine and canoes, and with the others Balboa began the ascent of
the range of mountains from whose heights he hoped to view the sea.
Pages:
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142