"No, Captain! West--west--arrow straight!" Pinzon appeared about to say, "You are very wrong, and we should see what's behind that arras!" But he checked himself, standing before Admiral and Don and Viceroy, and all those listening faces around.

"I still think," he began.
The other took him up, but kept considerate, almost deferring manner.
"Yes, if we had time or ships to spare! But now it is, do not stray from the path.

Sail straight west!" "We are five hundred leagues from Palos." "Less than that, by our reckoning.

The further from Palos, the nearer India!" "We may be passing by our salvation!" "Our salvation lies in going as we set forth to go." He made his gesture of dismissal of that, and asked after the health of the _Pinta_.

The health held, but the stores were growing low.