No harbor appeared. The
daring navigator knew that if he went too far south he ran some risk of
encountering a Spanish fleet, and that after his getting two of the most
valuable cargoes ever sent over seas, they would be patroling all the
tropical waters in the hope of catching him. He turned north again.
On the shore from time to time little groups of savages appeared moving
about great bonfires, and watching the ship. They wore hardly any
clothing except the skin of some small animal like a marten, attached to
a belt of woven grass; their skins were russet-brown and their thick
straight black hair was tied in a knot rather like a tail.
"One thing is certain," said young Francois Parmentier cheerfully,
"these folk have never seen Spaniards--or Portuguese. Even on the
Labrador the people ran from us, after Cortereale went slave-stealing
there."
Verrazzano smiled. Young Parmentier was always full of hope and faith. A
little later the youth volunteered to be one of a boat's crew sent
ashore for water, and provided himself with a bagful of the usual
trinkets for gifts. The surf ran so high that the boat could not land,
and Francois leaped overboard and swam ashore. Here he scattered his
wares among the watching Indians, and then, leaping into the waves
again, struck out for the boat.
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