I can swear that he, too, felt an inner joy that they had escaped clutching.
But in the morning he sent ashore a large party under his brother, Don Diego.

We received another surprise.

No Indians on the beach, none in the forest, and when they came to the village, only houses, a few parrots and the gardens, dewy fresh under the sun's first streaming.

No Indians there, nor man nor woman nor child, not Guacanagari, not Guarin, not Catalina and her crew--none! They were gone, and we knew not where, Quisquaya being a huge country, and the paths yet hidden from us or of doubtful treading.

But the heaped mountains rose before us, and Juan Lepe at least could feel assured that they were gone there.