"Merda! Damn it! Bastards! Bastards! A bunch of dog shit pulled out by a native dog! How dare you betray me and seize my power!..."
"Minchia! When I get back to Seville, when I bring the news of the new route to the Holy Queen... I will definitely expose all your shamelessness, meanness, and ugliness! I will hang each and every one of you! Just wait and see! I, the wise, courageous, and powerful Expedition Commander Columbus, will one day cut off your traitorous limbs and heads and feed them to my dogs!… Watch you brought out!…"
The sky was nearing dusk, and gloomy clouds swept in from the sea, obscuring the spiritless sun and bringing the salty smell of the Caribbean Sea. The scattered raindrops fell intermittently, soaking the sailors' clothes. That damp and clinging feeling seemed much like the discouragement after the two recent failures, making everyone lose interest.
