"Chief Columbus? Commander?!..."
The huge white sail cast a pale shadow, blocking out the sunlight from the sky. In the shade, Second Captain de la Cosa paused, then quietly nudged the fallen Columbus with his foot. But the man did not move at all. He only stared at the sky in despair, tears streaming endlessly down his face. De la Cosa waited warily a little longer, then retreated two steps and turned to look at the eighteen remaining sailors around him—especially at the navigator Pedro, who had his head lowered.
Around Columbus, the sailors gathered in twos and threes, all stopping as if by tacit agreement. The sailing ship sped onward, soon entering deep water, and they no longer needed to adjust the sails or the rudder at every moment. More importantly, with things as they were now... the boatswain had been shot and fallen overboard, the Commander had been struck by an arrow and paralyzed. Among the people left on the ship, Second Captain de la Cosa had suddenly become the greatest authority...
"The natives really are vicious and despicable. They even smeared poison on their arrowheads! Who knows what kind of poison it is..."
"Lord above! No matter what poison it is, there's no medicine on the ship, and no way to cure it!..."
"This... then the Commander... how long can he live? Can he hold on until we make land and find medicine?..."
"Make land? The coast here is so dangerous. The natives of Cipangu are savage and brutal, every last one of them a terrifying venomous snake! We should just return straight to the Bahamas! The natives there are as docile as sheep..."
"Ah! May the Holy Mother protect us!... Then from now on, who are we supposed to listen to?..."
"Mm..."
The sailors whispered among