The northern open field of Puerto Rico was a land of winding bays, living mangroves, tall-grass prairies, and low hills. The Northeast Trade Winds brought lingering rains, nourishing the fertile soil here. The land was low and flat, well drained, and suited to farming. Taino villages sat among it, clearing many small plots where they planted cassava, cotton, tobacco, corn, chili, and passionfruit.
And forty or fifty li south from the northern open field lay the Central Mountains (Cordillera Central), or, in the Taino way of saying it, "the ridge of the Earth Mother." The sea wind stopped before the mountains, its dampness condensing into mist. The terrain rose abruptly, climbing straight from sea level to more than eight hundred meters.
The level open field was swiftly replaced by red hills and mountains. Between the mountains, dense, towering forests stood everywhere, untouched by axes for thousands of years. Red-barked caoba and slender ceiba trees thrust into the clouds, many reaching sixty or seventy meters. Beneath the dense woods lay thick humus, along with stones, roots, and hidden holes that could not be seen clearly.
Without question, terrain like this was not easy to walk even for people familiar with forests. And for the armored Castilian Expeditionary Force, and the knights on their tall horses, even just one day in the mountains was utterly unbearable torment.
"Neigh!! Hissss!..."
The warhorse of the Church knight Inigo de Escalante was suddenly tripped by a root beneath the mud and let out a pained whinny. Inigo, who had been leading the horse, was yanked into a stumble and fell onto the rotting leaves as well. He ignored himself and immediately knelt to examine his warhorse's condition. But after just two glances at the horse's leg, his face instantly went ashen, and a cry of