Grijalva resumed cruising along the coast. He was astonished everywhere at the sight of villages or towns with houses made of stone and cement, which in passing appeared to the Spaniards finer and better built then they really were. The resemblance between this region and Spain seemed so close to them that they gave it the name of New Spain—a name which it retains to this day. Next they came to the mouth of a river, called by the natives Tabasco, but the Spaniards named it Grijalva, in honor of their leader. The whole region roundabout had such a flourishing appearance and seemed to be populated so densely that Grijalva could not resist the desire to obtain accurate information about it. So he went ashore with his entire armed force. There he encountered a multitude of armed Indians, who with terrible outcries sought to prevent their further advance. But he paid no attention to their menaces, marched up to a bowshot’s distance from them, then halted, drew his men up in battle order, and sent the two Americans, Julian and Melchior, who had been taken by Hernandez, to inform them that he had not come there to injure them, but to do them good, and that he was anxious to make a peaceful agreement with them.
The Indians, who had been gazing in astonishment at the closed ranks, the costumes, and weapons of the Europeans, were still more astonished at this declaration. Some of their leaders ventured to advance. Grijalva cordially welcomed them and told them through the interpreters that he and his followers were subjects of a great King who was the absolute ruler of all the countries where the sun rises. This King had sent him to demand their submission to his authority, and he awaited their answer. Thereupon a low murmuring ensued among the Indians, which was stilled by one of their leaders, who replied courageously in the name of his people that it seemed strange to them that the Spaniards should speak of peace and at the same time demand submission. It seemed strange to them also that they should be offered a new ruler without ascertaining whether they were dissatisfied with their present one. As far as the question of war or peace was concerned he was not authorized to give a decisive answer. He must submit that question to his superiors. With these words he retired, leaving the Spaniards not a little astonished at this sensible reply. After a short time he returned and told Grijalva that his superiors did not fear war with the Spaniards, if it must be, for they had not forgotten what happened at Potonchan. But they considered peace better than war, and, as a token of this, he had brought many necessaries of life for gifts.