Accordingly, when in February, 1540, Diego Maldonado came from Florida to Havana, to obtain recruits, arms and provisions, there was no lack of response to his call. It seemed as though almost every able-bodied man in Cuba had caught the Florida fever, and went flocking to Maldonado's standard. Eight great ship-loads of men, horses and provisions were quickly obtained, and sailed away for Florida, leaving behind them three classes of people in Cuba. There were those who lamented that there had not been room enough on the ships to take them, too. There were those who lamented that Cuba was thus being stripped and impoverished to enrich another country, if not in a vain and profitless quest. There were also those, the surviving Indian natives, who rejoiced, because the Spaniards were all leaving Cuba, so that the natives could come to their own again. But all three classes were mistaken in their views of the situation.
Maldonado and Gomez Arias sailed away with their eight ships, to meet de Soto at an appointed place on the Florida coast. Months later they returned without having met him or having been able to ascertain any information of his whereabouts. That was in 1541. In 1542 they sailed again to meet him at the same place; with like result. In 1543 they made a third such venture, and explored the entire coast from the southern extremity of Florida to Mexico. They posted messages upon trees, rocks and headlands. They sent Indian runners inland to inquire for the adventurers. They resorted to every effort they could devise to find their missing chief, but all in vain.
Meantime at Havana the Lady Isabel awaited his return, with unfaltering loyalty and unshaken hope. Bartholomew Ortiz, alcalde mayor, by her lord's appointment, relieved her of the technical duties of gubernatorial rule; which was well, for there was much trouble abroad in the island. It was thus left for her to watch and wait for the coming of the ship which never came. At morning and at evening, day after day, she paced the little pathway on the crest of a fort which her husband had begun to build, the beginning of La Fuerza--of which we shall hear much more. Hour by hour she gazed from that parapet northward, not on guard for hostile sail, but to espy the first glimpse of one returning from the Land of Flowers. There is no more touching picture in all the early history of Cuba than that of this devoted woman, scanning the northern horizon in vain for the appearance of one whose restless and adventurous body was sleeping the last sleep in the bed of the Father of Waters.