FERDINAND DE SOTO, THE DISCOVERER OF THE MISSISSIPPI.

Ferdinand de Soto, who was with Pizarro in Peru, was born in Spain, and the first years of his life were spent in a gloomy castle where it was so quiet, that he often grew lonely and wished that he had some playfellow besides the birds or his dog or horse. His parents were so poor that they could not afford to send him to school, and so he grew to be a big boy before knowing how to read or write; but his family were of noble blood, the noblest in Spain; and although they could not send him to school, still they had him taught to ride and fence, as it was thought disgraceful for a Spanish nobleman not to have these accomplishments. And so the boy learned to ride daringly, and at the age of twelve could use his sword as easily as any other Spanish boy of his age; and in the meantime, in the halls of the dark old castle, he listened eagerly to the tales he heard of the wonderful land which Columbus had discovered, and he resolved that when he became a man he would go himself across the sea and bring back gold and refurnish up the old castle and make it once more a place fit for noblemen to live in. When he learned to read he stored his mind with stories of adventure and romance, and he said that he, too, would go into the world some day and win honor and fame; and so the days passed; the sun brightened the castle walls in the daytime and the shadows hung over them at night, and through sunlight and shadow the boy dreamed on of the years to come when he would be a knight and a soldier and gain glory and wealth under the flag of Spain.

One day a very wealthy Spanish nobleman named Don Pedro de Avila rode up to the castle and asked to see Ferdinand. Ferdinand at this time was an unusually handsome youth, tall and graceful, and remarkable for his strength and agility. He excelled all his friends in fencing and riding, and all those active amusements which the Spanish youth delighted in.

Don Pedro had noticed the handsome boy, and as he had no son of his own he offered to adopt him and educate him; so Ferdinand left his home and was sent to a Spanish university, where he spent six years, during which time he became renowned for his skill in the chivalric entertainments which were all the time going on in Spain. He took the prizes at all the tournaments, and was everywhere praised and admired. Don Pedro became very proud of him and treated him as though he were his own child.

Don Pedro had a daughter, Isabella, who was very beautiful, and her father wished her to marry some rich nobleman, so that she might have a high position at the Spanish court; but while her father was away in Darien, where he had been appointed governor, Isabella fell in love with Ferdinand de Soto and promised to marry him. When Don Pedro came back and De Soto asked permission of him to marry his daughter he was very angry, and from that time he became De Soto's bitterest enemy. He was going back to Darien again, and thinking it would be a fine thing if De Soto were to go with him and get killed by the Indians, he offered to give him a handsome outfit and appoint him captain of a company of soldiers if he would go. De Soto was very poor, his parents were dead, and he thought he might win honor and wealth by going with Don Pedro, so he accepted his offer.

At the time that he left Spain, De Soto was nineteen years of age; he was away fifteen years, during which time he heard only once or twice from Isabella; he wrote to her many times and she answered his letters, but her father always destroyed the letters. During the years that he was away De Soto did indeed become rich and famous; he had left Spain a poor boy, and he returned a wealthy and honored man. Without his help Pizarro would never have been able to conquer Peru, and the fame of the great soldier De Soto was talked of from one end of Spain to the other.

In the meantime Don Pedro had died, and as soon as De Soto reached Spain he married Isabella. For two years they lived in Seville in princely style, but at the end of that time De Soto found that his money was fast melting away, so he resolved to go on another expedition and gather more gold. He asked permission of the king to conquer Florida, where it was believed there was much gold, and offered to fit out the expedition at his own expense. The king consented, and De Soto began his preparations.

As soon as it became known that De Soto was raising an army for the conquest of Florida, all the young noblemen of Spain flocked eagerly around his standard. He accepted only those who were strong and able to endure hardship, for he knew that he had a very difficult task before him. Such an army had never before left Spain; the gallant and daring soldiers were nearly all wealthy and well-born. They wore costly armor and all their outfit was of the richest description. Everything was provided to make the expedition a success. Arms and provisions, chains for the Indians whom they expected to make slaves, bloodhounds for hunting runaways, and cards for the young nobles to amuse themselves with. Twelve priests went with them to convert the natives and keep up religious services. Ten ships left the harbor of San Lucar, with flags flying, bugles pealing, and cannon thundering over the water, and thus De Soto, under sunny skies and with bright hopes, sailed for the summerland of De Leon.

They stopped at Cuba, where De Soto left his wife to govern the colony during his absence, and then sailing through the Gulf they entered Tampa Bay and landed. Here they heard that there was a large Indian town six miles away, and De Soto decided to march there; but when they reached the village they found it entirely deserted. Not an Indian was to be seen. It was quite a large village; the houses were made of timber, thatched with palm leaves; many of them were large, having many rooms; they had useful articles of furniture, some of which were very elegantly carved and ornamented with gold. The dresses of the women were very beautiful and trimmed with shells and embroidery and richly colored; there were exquisite shawls and mantillas woven by hand from the bark of the mulberry tree, and the walls of some of the houses were hung with tapestry of prepared buckskin, while the floors were covered with carpets of the same material. The buckskin had been tanned so that it shone like satin, and was as soft as silk, and it made the rooms look very luxurious and elegant.

All this was very different from the Indian homes De Soto had seen in Darien, and he did not doubt that here he should find a kingdom as rich as Peru. He took possession of the village, and he and his soldiers lived in the houses. One or two of the Indians came back and were taken captive, and from them De Soto learned that Ucita, the Indian chief, was a mortal foe to all Spaniards because he had been so badly treated by Narvaez, a cruel Spaniard who had been there before De Soto's arrival. Narvaez had treated Ucita most wickedly. He had caused his mother to be torn to pieces by bloodhounds; like Don Pedro in Darien, he had hunted down women and girls with his bloodhounds, and had cut infants in pieces and thrown them to the dogs, and once, in a fit of anger, he had caused Ucita's nose to be cut off. Ucita remembered all these things, and when De Soto sent to him and offered his friendship, the Indian chief replied:

"I want none of the speeches and promises of the Spaniards. Bring me their heads, and I will receive them joyfully."

Thus De Soto had to suffer for the crimes of Don Pedro and Narvaez. While he had been in Darien he had always treated the Indians kindly, but he knew how cruelly other Spaniards had acted toward them, so he expected a great deal of trouble here. The Indians thought all Spaniards were alike, and it was a long time before he could make Ucita believe that he meant him no harm. He sent him presents again and again, and whenever an Indian was taken captive by his soldiers De Soto treated him kindly and sent him back to the tribe with presents. At last Ucita seemed to be touched by the kindness of De Soto, who then felt he could continue his march without leaving a powerful enemy behind. Ucita did not say he would be his friend, but then he showed a more friendly spirit, and the Spaniards felt he would not attack them. Ucita was a brave and noble man, generous to his friends and merciful to his enemies; but the Spaniards had treated him so inhumanly that it is no wonder he did not at first believe in De Soto's offers of friendship.

In the meantime a Spaniard had been brought into camp who had been taken prisoner by the Indians when Narvaez was in Florida. This man's name was Juan Ortiz, and he had been with the Indians ten years, so he knew their language and habits. When he was first taken prisoner he had been very cruelly treated and at last was bound to the stake to be burned; as the flames crept around him he cried aloud with pain and terror, and the chief's daughter, a very beautiful princess about sixteen years of age, could not endure the sight of his agony; she threw her arms around her father's neck and begged with tears that Ortiz might be saved. Ortiz was about eighteen years of age, tall, and very handsome, and the sight of his great beauty and the pleadings of the princess Ulelah at last touched her father's heart. Ortiz was spared, but for some time after his life was miserable, as the Indians treated him very cruelly; but at last his lot became easier, and at this time he was treated as a friend by the tribe. Of course De Soto was very glad to meet Ortiz, as he would be very useful in dealing with the natives.

Ortiz told De Soto of a very powerful chief who lived about a hundred miles from Ucita, and offered to lead him there; the Spaniards thought there might be gold there, and they joyfully set off under the command of Gallegos, De Soto remaining behind. The Indians they met told them of a place where there was so much gold that the warriors had shields and helmets made of it; but very few of the Spaniards believed this; they thought it was a trick of the Indians to get them away from the country. In a few days De Soto followed Gallegos with the rest of the army, and they began to work their way through dense forests and swamps, and thickets, and through mud and water, losing their way and harassed by the Indians, in this mad hunt for gold.

One day, while they were travelling along the banks of a river, they saw a canoe with six Indians in it coming toward them; the Indians landed and three of them came up to De Soto, and, bowing very low, said to him: "Do you come for peace or for war?"

"I come for peace," replied De Soto, "and seek only a peaceful passage through your land. I need food for my people and canoes and rafts to cross the river, and I beg you to help me."

The Indians said that they themselves were in want of food, as there had been a terrible sickness the year before, and that many of their tribe had died and others had gone away for fear of the pestilence, thus leaving the fields uncultivated. They also said that their chieftain was a young princess and they had no doubt she would receive them kindly and do everything for them. Having said this, the chiefs returned to the other side of the river.

And now the Spaniards, looking across the river, saw that there was a great stir in the village opposite. First, a very large and beautifully-decorated canoe appeared upon the banks, followed by several other canoes also very beautiful; then a gorgeous palanquin, borne by four men, was seen coming toward the river; the palanquin stopped at the banks, and from it a graceful girl, very finely dressed, entered the state canoe. She sat down upon the cushions in the end of the canoe, over which was stretched a canopy; she was followed by eight female attendants who entered the canoe after she had sat down. Then the six men who had just been to see De Soto entered a large canoe which was rowed by a number of other Indians. The canoe in which the princess sat was fastened to this one, and then they started, followed by several other canoes in which were the most noted warriors of the tribe.

The Spaniards were charmed with the beautiful young princess. Her attendants brought with them a chair of state upon which she took her seat after bowing to De Soto, and then they began a conversation by means of the interpreter, Juan Ortiz. The princess said that it was true the pestilence had left the tribe very poor, but that she would do everything she could to provide them with food; she offered half of her house to De Soto, and half the houses in the village to the soldiers, and said that by the next day there would be rafts and canoes ready to take the Spaniards across the river.

De Soto was much touched by the kindness of the princess and promised to be her friend forever. Then the princess rose and placed a large string of costly pearls around De Soto's neck, and he in return presented her with a gold ring set with a ruby; and then, with promises of help on the morrow, the princess and her people returned to the village.

The next day the princess had the rafts made and the Spanish army crossed the river; while crossing four horses were carried away by the swift stream and drowned, for which the Spaniards grieved very much, as these horses had been of great service to them in their journey. When they arrived at the village they found very pleasant quarters awaiting them; as there were not houses enough to hold all the soldiers, some wigwams had been built in a beautiful mulberry grove just outside the village, and the Spaniards were delighted to stop a while with these friendly Indians.

The mother of the princess was a widow living some miles down the river, and De Soto wished to see her, and, if possible, make a friend of her, so the princess, as soon as she heard this, sent twelve of her chieftains to invite her mother to visit her; but the queen refused to come, and said that her daughter had done wrong to receive the Spaniards. This made De Soto all the more desirous to make the queen his friend, so he sent thirty of his men to see her, with large presents and offer of friendship. The princess sent one of her relatives to guide the party; he was a young man about twenty years old, very handsome, and with fine manners. He was dressed in a suit of soft deerskin which was trimmed with embroidery and fringe, and wore a head-dress made of feathers of various colors; he carried in his hand a beautiful bow, highly polished, so it shone like silver, and at his shoulder hung a quiver full of arrows. The Spaniards were delighted with the fine appearance of their guide, who indeed looked worthy to serve the charming princess, and the party left the village in high spirits.

The guide led them along the banks of the river, under the shade of fine old trees; after a walk of some miles they stopped for their noon-day meal, seating themselves in the shade of a beautiful grove through which they were passing. The young guide, who had been very pleasant and talkative all the way, now suddenly became very quiet. He took the quiver from his shoulder and drew out the arrows one by one; they were very beautiful arrows, highly polished and feathered at the end; he passed them to the Spaniards, who admired them very much, and while they were all busy looking at them, the young Indian drew out a very long, sharp arrow shaped like a dagger. Finding that no one was looking at him, he plunged the arrow down his throat, and almost immediately died.

The Spaniards were much shocked and could not imagine why this had happened, but they afterward found out that the young guide was a great favorite with the queen, and that knowing she did not want to see the Spaniards, who, he thought, might perhaps seize her and carry her away, and not daring to disobey the princess, whom he loved and respected, he had chosen this way to free himself from his trouble.

The other Indians did not know where the mother was, so the Spaniards returned without seeing her. De Soto was much disappointed at this, and tried again to find her place of retreat, but without success. In the meantime the Spaniards had heard from the Indians that there were great quantities of white and yellow metal in their country, and they thought it must be gold and silver; but when the Indians brought it into camp, they found that the gold was copper and the silver mica, and they were again disappointed.

The princess now told De Soto that about three miles away there was a village which was once the capital of the kingdom, and that there was a great sepulchre there, in which all their chieftains and great warriors were buried, and that immense quantities of pearls had been buried with them. De Soto, with some of his officers, and some of the Indian chiefs, visited this place and found it to be a large building three hundred feet long and over a hundred feet wide, covered with a lofty roof; the entrance was ornamented with wooden statues, some of them twelve feet high, and there were many statues and carved ornaments in the inside. By the side of the coffins were small chests, and in these had been placed such things as it was thought the dead chieftains would need in the spirit world. When an Indian died his bow and arrows were always buried with him, as it was supposed he would need them in the "happy hunting-grounds," and, besides, many other things, as you already know. In these chests the Spaniards found more pearls than they had ever dreamed of. It is said that they carried away from this place fourteen bushels of pearls, and the princess told them if they would visit other villages they would find enough pearls to load down all the horses in the army. The Spaniards were delighted and proposed to De Soto that they should make a settlement there, but he was determined to go further on in search of gold.

He had noticed that for some time the Indians had not been so friendly as they were at first; some of his soldiers had ill-treated the natives—although he had given strict orders that they should not—and now he felt sure that the princess meant to escape from the village, and that her tribe would begin a warfare with his army. So he thought the safest thing to do would be to compel the princess to go with him when he marched away. He knew that the Indians would not harm him if she were with him, as they would be afraid of harming her, too; so he told her it was necessary for her to go with him. The princess did not like this plan at all, but she said nothing, and in a few days De Soto began his march accompanied by the Indian princess, in her beautiful palanquin, which was attended by a large number of her chieftains, all handsomely dressed, and wearing their gorgeous head-dresses with their nodding plumes. For some days they travelled through the forests, when one day, as they were passing through a very thick wood, the princess suddenly leaped from her palanquin and disappeared among the trees. She had made this plan with her warriors, and De Soto never saw or heard of her again.

It is very sad to think that a friendship which began so happily should have ended thus, and had De Soto acted differently, the princess would always have remembered him as a noble man; as it was, she must have been sorry she ever trusted him at all. Had he told her that he wished to leave her village, and to part with her and her people as friends, she would, no doubt, have let him go in peace; but by carrying her off he made her his enemy forever. His only excuse is that he thought it would really be safer both for his men and hers to make her go with him.

The Spaniards continued their journey, and in a few days came to a large Indian village. The young chief received De Soto kindly, as he had heard he did not come to make war. He took him to his own house and gave his men pleasant quarters, and they remained there two weeks. The Indians told them that there were copper and gold farther on, and some Spaniards went to find it, but were again disappointed. However, there were pearls in the rivers, and some very beautiful ones were obtained. Many of these pearls which the Indians had were of little value, as they had bored holes through them with a red-hot iron so they might string them for necklaces and bracelets. De Soto was presented with a string of pearls six feet in length, with every pearl as large as a hazelnut, which would have been of immense value, had not the beauty of the pearls been dimmed by the action of fire. The Indians obtained the pearls by laying the oysters on hot coals, and as the heat opened the shells the pearls could be taken out. To please De Soto, the chief ordered his men to do this in his presence, and from some of the largest, ten or twelve pearls were taken about the size of peas. De Soto left this pleasant Indian village and again commenced his march, and now came many dark and sad days. The Indians he met after this were mostly hostile, and there were many dreadful battles in which De Soto lost men and horses. They journeyed summer and fall and winter, passed through dense forests where the horses could scarcely move, and marched over barren tracts of country where they could get no supplies; they suffered from hunger and sickness, and many died on the weary march, but De Soto would not turn back, he was still determined to find gold. At length, when they were almost worn out with travelling for days through a region more dismal than any they had passed through, uninhabited, and filled with tangled forests and swamps, they came to a small village, and here De Soto discovered, not the gold he sought, but something else which has made his name immortal. The little village was built on the banks of a river, and when De Soto went down to its margin he saw that, compared with the other rivers he had seen, it was like a sea. The river was a mile and a half wide, and rolled swiftly by, carrying with it trees and logs and driftwood. For ages this great river had rolled from the lake country above down to the Gulf, but no white man had ever looked upon it until now. De Soto, in his search for gold, had discovered the great Mississippi, the largest river in the United States, and one of the longest on the globe. The Indians called the river Mesaseba, which means, in their language, the Father of Waters.

De Soto did not remain here long, the chief was not friendly, and after a few days' rest the Spaniards crossed the Mississippi and continued their march.

Once they passed near an Indian village whose chief came out to meet them. The chief said, as the Spaniards were more powerful and had better arms than the Indians, he believed that their God was also better than the Indian god, and he asked them to pray to their God for rain, as the fields were parched for want of water. De Soto replied that they were all sinners, but that he would pray to God, the Father of Mercies, to show kindness unto them.

So he ordered the carpenter to cut down a large tree, which was carefully trimmed, and then formed into a gigantic cross; it was so large that they were two days in completing it, and it took one hundred men to raise it and plant it in the ground. It was placed upon a bluff on the western bank of the Mississippi. The morning after the cross was raised the whole Spanish army, and many of the natives, formed a solemn religious procession and walked around it. De Soto and the chief walked side by side, and the natives and soldiers followed after, two by two. It seemed for the time as if Indian and Spaniard were not only friends, but brothers. The priests chanted hymns and offered prayers, and then the whole procession advanced two by two to the cross, knelt before it, and kissed it. Upon the opposite shore of the Mississippi thousands of Indians were gathered, who were watching the service with the greatest interest; at times they seemed to take part in the exercises; when the priests raised their hands in prayer, they too raised their eyes to heaven, and lifted up their arms as if asking help, and the murmur of their voices floated across the waters of the river, and mingled with the sighing of the wind through the trees, and with the notes of the Christian hymns, and with the words of the Christian prayers; and the blue sky above smiled down alike on the haughty Spaniard and on the simple native, as he kissed the great wonder cross, the symbol of Him to whom all men are the same, and whose love reaches down to all.

After the prayers the people returned to the village in the same order, the priests going before and chanting the Te Deum; and Las Casas, the historian, writing of this, says, "God, in his mercy, willing to show these heathens that he listeneth to those who call upon him in truth, sent down, in the middle of the ensuing night, a plenteous rain, to the great joy of the Indians."

So the rain fell, and the Indian sowed his seed and gathered harvests of golden grain; and the cross stood there in the shadow of the forest, and the mighty river rolled on before it, and in the years to come, when the memory of the Spaniard had almost faded away, it was still to the red man a sign of the love of the Great Spirit, who had helped them in their need.

De Soto did not stay long among these friendly Indians, but pressed on his way. There were again toilsome marches and weary hours of disappointment, and, at last, the brave heart of the leader grew sad and hopeless. The climate was unhealthful, and De Soto was taken sick with fever, and at the same time he was told that the chief of that country was getting ready for a great battle, in which all the neighboring tribes would join, and that they meant to kill every Spaniard in the country.

But De Soto could fight no more battles, for he was dying. One by one the faithful soldiers knelt by his bed, and weeping, bade him farewell. He asked them to live as brothers, loving and helping one another, and urged them to convert the natives to the Christian religion. And so the brave soldier died, far from home and that sunny Spain which he loved so well, and the whole army wept for him, for they loved him, and grieved to think that they should see him no more.

It was thought best not to let the Indians know of De Soto's death, as they might attack the Spaniards at once if they knew their great leader was gone. So De Soto was buried at night by torchlight, and no salute was fired over his grave, nor any dirge chanted by the priests; but the Indians suspected that he was dead, and even visited the spot where he was buried; so the soldiers, for fear the natives would remove the body after they went away, decided to take it up themselves and sink it in the river. They cut down an evergreen oak, whose wood is almost as heavy as lead, and hollowing out a place large enough for the body, placed it in it, and at midnight it was taken out to the middle of the river, into whose depths it immediately sank. Then the soldiers, in the silence and darkness, returned to the camp, and De Soto was left alone in the wilderness, and only the stars and the river knew where he slept.

His soldiers built some boats and sailed down the Mississippi to the Gulf, and after much hardship reached a Spanish settlement in Mexico. Few were left of the brilliant company that had left Spain three years before, and so ended the expedition which had sailed away from home so gaily. Their search for gold had been like following the will-o'-the-wisp, which leads on and on, and then vanishes at last, leaving you alone in the darkness.