The Philippine Islands, 1493-1898: Volume 31, 1640. Aduarte Diego

trees and even buffeted it about there with such violence that we were obliged to disembark for fear of perishing in it. When we were on shore, exploring parties went off in various directions. After they had made an arduous march, they brought back the news that it was a wilderness inhabited only by wild beasts, without any trace of a river or a spring, at least near the coast; and that the country within proved to be inaccessible because it was overflowed and very thickly overgrown. This news made us feel that the sea was less evil for us than such a land, and that the tortures which we had endured were slight compared with those to which we were exposed by this desired but unhappy landing. Since eating and drinking are a necessary and a daily obligation, and as our supply of food and drink was very small, while we were more than a hundred persons, we put forth all our energies to search for some remedy. As thirst was that from which we suffered most, we dug wells in the dryest parts we found, and when we met water, it was more salty than that of the sea. I declare, as one who has found out by experience, that the very dew which appeared in the morning on the leaves of the wild trees there, was salt. Hence since the land denied us the sustenance which we required, we determined to return to the sea, which had at least granted us our lives, and which now gave us greater hopes than the land of being able to preserve them. For this it was necessary to help ourselves by means of the unlucky ship which was stranded on the shore, for it had remained there after the spring tide was over. It had no masts, or sails, or rudder, or anything that could be used, because between losing them and perishing there had been no choice. To supply these, it was necessary to put our hands to the work, until it was finished. The most necessary thing to be done to the ship was to cut it down and fit it so that it would draw but little water, and might be rowed along the coast. Our relief was to be sought on land, but he who should find it had to seek for it by sea. We were not now planning for conquests or embassies, but for getting water – for which we would have given all that has been yielded by the hill of Potosi, if it had been ours. We spent ten days in getting the ship ready. We cast overboard all the upper works and a good part of the under works. We fitted to it twelve oars. In this way it was like a badly made galliot; rudder, masts, and sails we replaced by rowing. While some of us were at this work, others went to explore the country, doing their utmost in the search for water. Some of these came back very joyful, with good news, saying that about four leguas up the coast from there a great river ran up into the land; that where it flowed into the sea the water was salt, but that it must be fresh above. They also said that they had seen the footprints of men on the shore. The work was hurried on in the hope of satisfying our thirst, which was increased by it, and still more by the heat of that region; for we were in the most torrid part of the torrid zone, and had practically no defense or covering against the heat. The vessel, being of so light a draught, was easily launched; and embarking in it all that we had left of provisions and clothes, which was very little, we put forth one evening and entered the bight of the river of which we have spoken, reaching its mouth in the morning by hard rowing. We entered it with great delight, which was increased by the sight of a hut on the bank not far from the ocean. Though there was no one in it, we promised ourselves large towns when we saw it, and even assured ourselves of certain news of our companions, of whom as yet we knew nothing, nor they of us. But within a few days we found out the deceit and lost our joy in it. After going for three days up the river, we constantly found the water salt like that of the sea, whose arm it was, and not a river. Upon its banks on either side there was nothing but impassable undergrowth. At last we reached a point from which we could not go further up, because the seeming river divided into so many little creeks that the ship had not room in any of them. The change from the false hope of water and of towns, which had possessed our minds, served to redouble our misery; since now, as it seemed to us, we had lost the hope of relief by land or by sea. Our necessity had now reached such an extreme that the food was distributed by ounces, and the drink almost by drops – though the labor of rowing, each man in his turn (from which no one was excused), was such as to require much food; and the heat was so excessive that even if we had been in idleness we should have needed much to drink. But at last, having confidence in the Father of mercies – who, though He distresses, does not overwhelm; and, though He chastises, does not slay – we returned to the sea by which we had come. At sight of it we left the vessel, in order to rest a little from the labor which we had endured to attain that for which we were hoping; and I went on land with my four Chinese (with whom I was very intimate), and had them build a little boat of four planks – fastened together by some twigs, so to speak, for we had no nails; and calked with clay, for we had no tow, or any other thing better than the clay. This made a sort of canoe. If awkwardly handled, it filled with water. But, such as it was, I had two of the soldiers get into it – for if they kept close to shore they would run no risk – and told them to go up to the hut that we had seen to discover whether there were any people there; because perhaps they had hidden themselves, from fear of our vessel, when they saw it on the way up the river. They did so, and at nightfall they discovered two grown Indians and a boy. They made their way up to them, little by little; and when they got near them they found that they were asleep on the shore, not expecting anything to happen to them. They caught the Indians, and bound them. When the rest of us came by soon after in our ship, they called out from the land, telling us what they had done. Our joy was so great that to render thanks the holy old man and I sang a Te Deum laudamus; and at this hour, which was midnight, half a cuartillo [i. e., pint] of water was served out to the troops in token of joy. The soldiers came on board with their captives, treating them gently and showing them all sorts of kindness. It seemed to us that God had sent them to us as angels to guide us, as He sent St. Raphael to Tobias. We began to put questions to them by an interpreter, asking what country this was, what population it had; and where they had come from, and where they ate and drank. They answered that they were from Camboxa, and that the country along this coast, and inland for many leguas, was uninhabited; and that to go to the towns we should have to enter a large river and to sail up for eighty leguas. They said that large vessels went up the river, and that it was many leguas to windward of this place. They declared that they were natives of that country, slaves of one of its chief lords; and that, because of the ill treatment which they had received, they had fled from him, and had come hither where no man had ever landed. They said that they ate nothing except shell-fish, which they caught with their hands, and wild cocoanuts, that grew there; and that they had no other water except what fell from heaven. When it rained they caught what they could and kept it in some large reeds to drink afterward. They said that two years had passed since they had come there. The effect of such sad news upon the hearts of men who had suffered as we had may easily be imagined. They also told us that some days’ journey further there was a port; but that, if we meant to go inland, where the king was, it would be necessary to leave the vessel at the port, because there was no river that entered inland. Since our desire was only not to die of thirst, any means by which we could get water seemed easy and light to us. We accordingly set out by sea in search of this port, taking these Indians with us, not with the purpose of increasing consumers when we had so little to consume, but to have guides. We went along the coast, running up to it very often wherever we thought we saw any signs of water, and sometimes digging wells, but always in vain, for the land could not give what it did not have. On the day of St. Matthew the Apostle, we discovered a high island in the sea, named Pulonubi.13 It was about six leguas from land. We laid our course toward it in search of water, thinking that doubtless it would have some, being high and mountainous, and having a sandy shore; but as the equipment of the ship was fastened on with pins, as the saying is, our rudder broke, when we had gone out a legua to sea. Being buffeted by the slight sea which was running, we had to return to land, and even to run aground, in order to mend the rudder. The Lord seemed to have declared that He intended to bring death upon us, because the sustenance necessary for our life was entirely consumed; for since we had no water, we were not only without drink, but also without food, our provision being rice, which cannot be eaten unless it is boiled in water. For lack of water, some ate it parched, which dried their entrails. Others ate it imperfectly boiled in the steam of salt water, putting it in a little basket over a pot of this water on the fire, so that by the steam thus sent out it might be softened. The water was so salt that it made the rice like itself, and left it uneatable. There were some who, even after this fine example of cookery, drank sea-water, which increased the thirst they were so impatiently desiring to remedy. Others distilled it over the fire and got some fresh water, but very little, at the expense of much

13

Pulo Obi – that is, Obi Island; it lies near Cape Camâo (sometimes called Cambodia), the southernmost point of Cochinchina.