The darkness cloaked the sea, with the tide rising in the Lake Bay. A splash, followed by a desperate and hoarse scream, echoed through the black night.
"Columbus! I curse you... ah!..."
The fleet of Castile mercilessly sailed away. As the slowest flagship, the Holy Maria, sailed out of the narrow Rivermouth and vanished into the vast and dim sky, Sailor Chief Bartolome was only left with the cold and harsh sea in his eyes...
"Damn bastard! Left me on the natives' Great Island... I should have killed you long ago! Should have..."
Two quarters later, Sailor Chief Bartolome, exhausted, struggled to swim to the shore. He lay on the beach like a fish about to die from exhaustion, unable even to turn over. Soaked to the skin and faint from hunger, he gazed at the brilliant galaxy above, as if seeing delicacies from Heaven. The frequent bird calls from the woods seemed to carry the aroma of roast bird, drawing nearer and nearer...
