English vessel and taken on board, some to be landed in France, others to be carried prisoners to England.
Convinced of the truth of the story told by the Indians of the desertion of Fort Charles, Laudonnière abandoned his scheme of going there, and resolved instead to found a colony on the May; and for this purpose he selected a spot near the mouth of that river, which is now known as St. John's Bluff. Again a fort was built, to which the now ill-fated name of Carolina was once more given. Again the colonists contented themselves with preparing for imaginary enemies, and neglected to provide against the attacks of famine and fever. Strength and means were wasted in fruitless expeditions in search of that Apalachen, so long the ignis fatuus of explorers in Florida, where gold in plenty was ever sought but never found. Moreover, among Laudonnière's men were many reckless adventurers, who, not content with rousing the wrath of the peacefully disposed Indians by unprovoked assaults upon them, varied their occupations by piracies against the Spaniards of the Gulf of Mexico. Retaliations ensued, until at last the colonists, with enemies rising up on every side, were reduced to the greatest extremities.
In vain did Laudonnière endeavor to stem the current of adverse circumstances; in vain did he strive, by example and by precept, to inaugurate a new policy, by tilling the ground for future support, and conciliating the Indians, with a view to obtaining present supplies. His men, desperate with hunger, clamored for him to seize a neighboring chief, and hold him as a hostage, till his people ransomed him with corn; and finally, though much against his own judgment, Laudonnière yielded.
Outina, a chieftain of high repute, was carried off, and imprisoned in Fort Carolina. His subjects, at first furious, appeared to acquiesce in the situation, and offered the coveted ransom in corn, to be fetched from a distant village by the Frenchmen. The famished Huguenots fell into the snare. Instead of granaries of the staff of life they found an ambuscade of armed natives, and, after a long and bloody fight, they returned to their camp with diminished numbers, and no trophies of a hard-earned victory but two small bags of corn.
Death now stared the colony in the face, and probably every member of it must have perished miserably, had not Sir John Hawkins, first of the long list of Englishmen who have disgraced their nationality as dealers in slaves, touched at the fort on his way home from a successful cruise. The wealth he had won in his traffic in human flesh enabled Hawkins not only to relieve
