Marco had spent much of his time after the "Sea Monster Incident" in the crows nest, the expensive telescope pilfered from the Captian's quarters held to his eye as he surveyed the coast. They had sailed the coast for six days now. Many of the sailors muttered that they would never make land due to the sheer cliffs and dangerous rocks that blocked their approach to shore. Marco kept his gaze on the shore. He didn't want to think about the sharks that lurked below the boats. He shuddered at the thought of the sharp teeth that waited below for the taste of their flesh.

Marco occasionally spotted movement upon the cliffs. A dark man shaped shadow that was gone as soon as Marco spotted it. He felt as if he were going mad!

Suddenly Marco spied a sandy cove hollowed out between the cliff faces. "Land Ho!" He shouted with excitement.

"We see the land you bloody idiot!" One of the sailors grumbled from below.

"No!" Marco shouted. "A cove, a landing!"

A great shout went up and the captain carefully maneuvered the great  lead ship into the deceptively shallow water. The stopped nearly one hundred yards from shore.

"Marco!" The captain shouted.

"Aye sir?" He answered swinging nimbly to the deck gripping a fat rope.

"Be a good lad and hop in, see how deep the water is. I dont want us to scrape the hull."

Marco went pale. "In the sea?"

"No into the bloody lake." The captain snapped. "Look over the side, not a creature to be seen. We will all keep an eye out for you. Now be a good lad?" The captain gestured placatingly.

"Ay aye sss-sir." Marco stuttered. He kicked off his shoes and stripped off his shirt. Then with a muttered prayer he dove overboard. The warm water engulfed him and he was weightless as he plummeted to the bottom. He opened his eyes as his feet struck the soft white sand. He squinted up at the boat. About thirty feet. Depending upon the tide... Air!

He kicked for the surface, brightly colored fish flitting out of his way as he surged to the top.

"Thirty feet!" He shouted as he bobbed upon the surface. A rope was tossed down and he scaled it nimbly, like a monkey.

"Good job boy!" The captain clapped him on the back as he made the deck.

"Rowboats?" The Spaniard asked.

The captain nodded his head. "Yes I'm ready to get off this godforsaken boat. We need water and foodstuffs. Bring flintlock and bow. We know not what we will experience."

The Spaniard and another sailor loaded a rowboat with weapons and bedrolls. Then several men jumped in and the Spaniard lowered to boat to the water.

They rowed steadily towards shore, a pod of friendly dolphins frolicked near the boat splashing the men with their tails.

Marco watched them in wonder, when they reached the shore he tore his attention from the friendly creatures and focused his surroundings.

The beach was soft and white, the sand rose up to meet grass covered dunes and then into a dense forest of scrubby trees. Bright birds flew from branch to branch, chattering excitedly as the strange men passed. The Spaniard took the lead, hacking at the undergrowth.

Suddenly he let out a yelp of pain and began hacking at the ground beneath his feet. A plain brown snake writhed at his feet as it was cut into pieces. The Spaniard sank to the ground holding his calf, two red drops of blood dribbled from puncture wounds in the muscle. He gasped for breath and began to shake. Another man helped him to lay down and gave him a sip of water from his canteen. Before he swallowed the water the Spaniard had convulsed and died.

The remaining men stood, dumbfounded. As they watched the little brown snake curl into itself as it too died. This was a dangerous land indeed.

The men made a makeshift litter from some branches and careful not to disturb any more snakes made their way out of the dense woodlands and into the plains.

There they dug a shallow grave and Captian Columbus spoke a few words over the body and then they hastily buried him. All the men were feeling quite unsettled at the sudden dark events of the day..