We found they had a bread, not cassava, but made from maize, and a drink much like English ale, and also a food called cacao.
Gold! All of them wore gold, disks of it, hanging upon their breasts.
The cacique had a thin band of gold across his forehead; together with a fillet of cotton it held the bright feathers of his head dress.
They traded the gold--all except the coronal and a sunlike plate upon the breast of the cacique--willingly enough.
Whence?
Whence?
It seemed from Yucatan, on some embassy to another coast or island.
Yucatan.

West--west! And beyond Yucatan richer still; oh, great riches, gold and clothing and--we thought it from their contemptuous signs toward our booths and their fingers drawn in the air--true houses and temples.
Farther on--farther on--farther west! Forever that haunting, deluding cry--the cry that had deluded since Guanahani that we called San Salvador.

Now many of our adventurers and mariners caught fire from that cacique's wide gestures.

The Adelantado no less.

"Cristoforo, it looks satisfaction at last!" And the young Fernando,--"Father, let us sail west!" The Admiral was trying to come at that Strait.