I, Dom Fernando Lopez, a Portuguese officer and gentleman, accompanied Alfonso Albuquerque, the naval general, on his first voyage to Goa during the fighting between the Portuguese and the indians and when he returned to Europe for additional troops I was left in command with orders to govern the natives and guard the peace. However, many of my men having married local women, some indeed siding with the muslims, converted to Islam. Thus on his return he found we had deserted, and the garrison no longer in Portuguese hands. He regained posession of the territory and, together with other renegade Christians, I was brought before the great Alfonso who ordered that our right hands, the thumbs of our left hands, our ears and noses should be cut off , and our hair and beards scraped off with clam shells, as a terrible example of the punishment for treason and wickedness against God and the King.
When Alfonso died, I, an object of contempt to my countrymen, shunned and despised by the natives, stowed-away on a homeward bound vessel for I sought to have comfort from my wife and child who had loved me. Yet, as the ship proceeded and we drew ever closer to our destination I began to have doubts as to the reception I, a torn and wretched, branded prisoner and traitor, was likely to receive and when the ship put to anchor, at the Island of St. Helena, escaped into the woods and hid myself.
My companions searched for me but soon set sail leaving behind some pieces of dry meat, old clothes and a fire and a letter saying I should leave signs, should a ship put in to anchor; and thus began a new life. Here I found consolation and peace. And the isolation was welcome for there was no-one to be startled and disgusted by my deformities. With the stump of my right arm and my four remaining fingers I scooped out a shelter, for myself and my provisions, in a soft bank of earth. Then I set out to find stones which I beat one against the other and when they struck fire, I kept them, should my fire go out. Thus was I able to explore, wandered through the forests, and found many tender herbs which were tasty to eat and which I boiled with salt, living on them and the fish I could catch.
For a year I lived a contented, solitary life, until one day my heart stood still for, bearing down upon my island, under full sail, was a ship I recognized as Portuguese. What if they should capture me and take me back to slavery in India? All that day I hid in the woods then, gaining courage, ventured to my cave where I found gifts of seeds and many things to eat and a letter bidding me not to hide myself. I watched the ship spread her sails to the winds and begin to edge away from the shore when all of a sudden something fell fluttering into the water. which I at last made out to be a bird, a cockerel, floating helplessly in the sea. Another outcast like myself, another victim of the callousness of fate.
I plunged into the sea and managed, with some difficulty because of my maimed condition, to rescue the half-drowned creature and bring it safe to land where I dried it at my fire and fed it with some grain. We became on such loving terms that the cock followed my every step and, like a dog, came at my call. It shared my food and at night roosted with me in my hole. Thus, companionship came into my life and for ten years we lived on the island, hiding whenever a ship appeared. My cave was frequently visited by Portuguese mariners who left gifts of provisions and things to sow and to plant. I kept ducks and hens, pigs and goats too, all of which increased in number and became wild in the woods.
As time passed, I became less timid and word of me spread to King John III who sent me a letter promising refuge if I would return to Lisbon. Slowly my early faith in religion routed my distaste for company and I went aboard a homeward bound vessel. But, the island recluse, used only to the sound of the crashing of the waves against the rocks, was overwhelmed by the bustling crowds and the busy Lisbon life. It frightened me. My one resolve was to return to my island as soon as I had confessed to the Pope and made my peace with God. So to Rome I went and there sobbed out my story of my double crime of defection and taking up arms for the heathen. I had but one wish in life, and this I told the Pope, I longed to return to my island, and solitude. Thus the Pope gave me letters to the King and safe conduct back to St. Helena.
There in the steep ravine which runs down to the sea, at the top end of which is a little heart-shaped waterfall, Fernando Lopez lived happily, tending his fruit trees, his poultry or sitting in the sun in tranquil seclusion, until his death in 1545 - after having lived on St. Helena for nearly thirty years.
In the meantime, however, the goats that had been set free were quietly ravaging the ancient forests of gumwood trees and the unique plants that colonized the island.
