Nor were we treated unkindly, starved nor hurt in any way.

All that waited until we should reach Caonabo's town.
Caonabo was a most handsome barbarian, strong and fierce and intelligent, more fierce, more intelligent than Guacanagari.

All had been painted, but the heat of the lowland and their great exertion had made the coloring run and mix most unseemly.

When they left Guarico they plunged into the river and washed the whole away, coming out clear red-brown, shining and better to look upon.

Caonabo washed, but then he would renew his marking with the paint which he carried with him in a little calabash.
A pool, still and reflecting as any polished shield, made his mirror.
He painted in a terrific pattern what seemed meant for lightning and serpent.