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YOUNG FOLKS' LIBRARY OF AMERICAN HISTORY. 
 
 COLUMBUS 
 
 AND 
 
 De SOTO. 
 
 BY MARA L PRATT, M. D. 
 
 Auilior of '' American History Stories," —" Cortes and Montezuma,"— Etc. 
 
 . / 
 
 BOSTON. — CHICAGO. /^^ ^ 
 EDUCATIONAL PUBLISHING COMPANY. 
 
 1891. 
 
t-i' 
 
 Copyright 
 By EDUCATIONAL PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 
 1891. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Map 
 
 Christopher Columbus ...... 
 
 Plans of Columbus ....... 
 
 Appeal to Spain 
 
 Columbus and His Son at the Convent Gate (lUustmti 
 Columbus before the Wise Men. (lUtistration.) 
 Columbus Favored l)y Isabella . . . • . 
 Columbus Appeals to Isabella. (lUustration.) 
 Queen Isabella. (lUustration.) .... 
 
 Columbus' First Voyage. ..... 
 
 Taking Possession of the New Tiand. (Illustration.) 
 
 Treachery to the Natives. 
 
 Alonzo Pinzon. ....... 
 
 The Return Voyage. ...... 
 
 Columbus' Reception on his Return to Spain ( niuslrati 
 
 The Second Voyage 
 
 Treachery of the Spaniards ..... 
 
 Columbus in Hayti Again 
 
 Columbus' last Voyage 
 
 Ferdinand de Soto . 
 
 De Soto angers Don Pedro 
 
 Don Pedro takes De Soto to America . ; 
 The Spanish Colony 
 
 n.) 
 
 n.) 
 
4 CONTENTS 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Page. 
 
 Dc Soto Fights a Duel > 76 
 
 Uracca, tlie Indian Chief. 
 
 . 
 
 
 
 
 79 
 
 De Soto Joins Pizarro . 
 
 
 
 
 
 90 
 
 The Death of the Peruvian Inca . 
 
 
 
 
 
 91 
 
 De Soto Returns to Spain 
 
 
 
 
 
 96 
 
 The Landing- in Florida. (lUu.stration.) 
 
 
 
 
 
 99 
 
 Ucita's Courtes}^ to De Soto . 
 
 
 
 
 
 104 
 
 Vasca Porcallo and Ucita . . • 
 
 
 
 
 
 105 
 
 March to Ochile .... 
 
 
 
 
 
 108 
 
 The Parade .... 
 
 
 
 
 
 112 
 
 A Second Conspiracy 
 
 
 
 
 
 lU 
 
 Onward! 
 
 
 
 
 
 117 
 
 Death of De Soto 
 
 
 
 
 
 121 
 
 Burial of De Soto. ( lUustrntion.) . 
 
 
 
 
 
 122 
 
 Poems 
 
 
 
 
 . 
 
 124 
 
Christopher Columbus, 
 
 In the grand old sea-port town of Genoa, lived the 
 little lad whom to-day the whole world knows as 
 Christopher Colunilnis . 
 
 He was a thoughtful l)oy ; and, as year after year 
 he saw the ships come in, and heard the wonderful 
 stories that the sailors told, there grew in him a long- 
 ing to visit those tar away lands, a thirst for adventure, 
 a hope that he, too, might lind a "new land." 
 
 Christopher Colum1)us was not an ignorant boy. 
 His father, although a simple w^orkingman, seems to 
 have been intelligent ; a man who strove to keep alive 
 in his children a love for education, and to give them 
 all the opportunity within his power. 
 
 Columbus had a fair, common-school education, as 
 we should call it, and had given no little time to draw- 
 ing, designing, and to the study of astronomy and 
 navigation. 
 
8 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 
 
 It was when Colunil)U8 was a])oiit twentv-tive years 
 of age that he was sent out in command of a squadron 
 to aid a certain kino- in his struggle to recover his 
 kingdom. There is little known of this conflict, as 
 tar as Columbus is concerned, farther than that "the 
 squadron of Columl)us gained much renown for its 
 valor." 
 
 In a letter to Ferdinand and Isabella, then king 
 and queen of Spain, Columl)us gave a l)rief account 
 of one of his adventures, when his vessel was sent to 
 attack a galley in the har1)or of Tunis. In some way 
 report reached the ears of his crew that this galley was 
 protected ])y two other ships. " It would l)e fool- 
 hardiness to attempt an attack upon a galley so armed," 
 said they, "and we refuse to proceed." 
 
 "Very well," answered Columl)us after a reasonable 
 amount of arguing with his crew, " we will go back 
 for re-enforcements . " 
 
 But this was far from his real intention. So quietly 
 altering the direction of the compass, he spread full 
 sail. Night came on. Quietly they sailed on ; but 
 when morning dawned, behold they were in the har- 
 bor where the galley lay. History does not tell us 
 what the result of this strategy proved to ])e ; so I sup- 
 pose the lesson we are to learn from it is that Colum- 
 bus was quick-witted, able in command, equal to an 
 
CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 9 
 
 These were diiys of peril and hardshi}) for sailors ; 
 pirates infested the seas, and every sailor had need of 
 soldierly training as well as an understanding of nau- 
 tical affairs. At one time Columbus was engaged in 
 a most desperate sea-fight with one of these pirate 
 vessels. The two vessels were lashed together with 
 iron grappling-hooks, and both were AVrapped in flames. 
 Not until the last minute did Columbus leave his ship. 
 Then, when all hope was lost, he leaped into the rag- 
 ing sea, and buoyed up by an oar, made his way safe- 
 ly to the shore — six miles away. 
 
 At such a time as this, Columbus received his sailor- 
 training ; and this it was, that, in the years to come, 
 fitted him for the hardships of his adventurous discov- 
 eries and explorations. 
 
 PLANS OF COLUMBUS. 
 
 Columl)us was thoughtful. He had sailed far to the 
 north, and had there heard vague rumors of a land 
 far away, which had ])een visited by the sturdy North- 
 men. Then, too, his habits of study had led him to 
 doubt the theories of that time regarding the shape of 
 the earth and the movements of the planets. In a let- 
 
10 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 
 
 ter to a friend, he once wrote, "For forty years I have 
 been study ins:, trying to seek out the secrets of na- 
 ture.*' And so it came a])out that it was to him that 
 the revehition of the true shape of the earth and of the 
 "new continent" was given. 
 
 In hi^s wandering from sea to sea, and from port to 
 port, he had often met mariners, intelligent, observing 
 men, Avho had, as he had done, explored all seas and 
 visited all lands then known to the world. From 
 those who had sailed farthest west, he heard of drift- 
 wood that had been found on the waters, different 
 from any known growth. One sailor told Columl)us 
 of two dead men who had ))een Avashed ashore far out 
 upon the Azores, who were very different from any 
 races of Europe or Africa. 
 
 These, and other stories of these west w^ard voyages, 
 hegan gradually to aAvaken in Columbus a l^elief that 
 somewhere, far away towards the setting sun, there 
 must l)e other lands, and perhaps other people. 
 
 Columlius was (juiet, thoughtful, free from selfish- 
 ness, given rather to dou])ting his own power than to 
 pushing himself forw^ard. 
 
 Night after night, when this idea was at last clear 
 to him, he would sit pouring over the maps of those 
 days, and studying the reports of sailors from every 
 port. What was there beyond the Azores ! Was the 
 earth a glol)e, and Avas there, perchance, another 
 
CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. ' 11 
 
 country far, far away on the other side ? Would it be 
 possible to sail around this globe — could that land be 
 found? 
 
 Then he put to work his knowledge of astronomy, 
 estimated from the sun's speed on its journey across 
 the heavens what must be the size of this earth, if 
 indeed it should ])e proved that its shape was that of a 
 sphere. All this study and discovery, all these esti- 
 mations with their seeming proofs, which our self- 
 taught philosopher was al)le to Inving before his hear- 
 ers, beffiin to attract the attention of thous^htful men. 
 
 Of course, there were many ignorant, unthinking 
 people, who jeered at Columbus and called him a fool. 
 Such men as he, to whom any revelation has lieen 
 granted, am apt to ])e called fools l)y the common peo- 
 ple ; and human nature was just as ignorant, and just 
 as jealous and skeptical then as it is now. But Col- 
 umbus had gras})ed a truth ; and all the ignorance in 
 the world could not take it from him. 
 
 Now, Columbus was a poor sea-captain, without 
 money and without influential friends. Still, s})urred 
 on by his own absolute confldence in his schemes, he 
 went to the King of Portugal, laid his plans before 
 him, and asked for money and a fleet with which to 
 set forth upon a voyage of discovery. 
 
 The king listened to his plans as he would have 
 listened to those of an insane man, with wonder and 
 
12 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 
 
 amusement. When Columbus had finished, the king 
 bowed him politely from the audience-room, with a 
 smile half of scorn, half of pity, saying to himself, 
 "He is a half-crazed creature. Quite prol)ably the 
 hot sun of the tropics has turned his head." 
 
 But there was something in the courteous, dignified 
 ])earing of Columbus that had impressed the king more 
 than he would have l)een willing to acknowledge. The 
 plans that Colum])us had presented would not be shut 
 out from his thoughts. "If they are true," said he to 
 himself, "What a glory it would l)e to me, as King of 
 Portugal, to aid him in this scheme ! " Day after day, 
 the king turned over and over in his mind the possi- 
 bilities Columlnis had presented to him. At last, call- 
 ing to him a certain well-known Portuguese sea-captain, 
 he told him of Columbus, aided him in gaining all the 
 additional knowledge possible, and then, with what 
 the king had already learned from Columl)us, he gave 
 the captain instructions to push on in the track which 
 Columbus had marked out, and reach, if possi])le, the 
 new land ; or, if there Avas no new land, to sail on and 
 on to the Asiatic coast. 
 
 A fleet was fitted out, and the captain sailed away 
 — sailed away to steal Columl)us' glory from him. 
 You will be glad to hear that the captain lost his way, 
 that a terrible tempest arose, that the sailors set up 
 such ii clamor that the captain was compelled to return 
 
CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 13 
 
 to port and report to the king that his treacherous 
 scheme had failed entirely. 
 
 When Coluni])us was informed of this meanness of 
 Portugal's king, he was bitterly disappointed that the 
 royal court, on whom he had been taught to look with 
 reverence, could stoop to so contemptible an act. 
 
 "I will go to the Genoese Government," said he. 
 " Perhaps there may be help there." 
 
 " Who is this Christopher Columbus," said the Gen- 
 oese Court, '^ that he comes to us? " 
 
 "He is a sailor — one of our Genoese sailors," ay^is 
 the answer. " The son of Dominico Columbus, the 
 wool-comber." 
 
 "The son of a wool-comber!" cried the Court, 
 shocked that one from so connnon a family should dare 
 urge a claim at the Grand Genoese Court. 
 
 Columbus w^as now in deep poverty. He had hardly 
 money enough to keep himself and his little son Diego 
 from starvation. 
 
 "We must go," said he, taking the little fellow up 
 in his arms, "to the King of Spain. Do you think, 
 my little man, that you and I can journey, perhaps on 
 foot, to the camp where Ferdinand and Isabella are 
 busy with the war against the Moors ? " 
 
 What Diego's reply w^as w^e do not know. But, as 
 he was a very brave little fellow, and had great faith 
 in his quiet, gentlemanly father, we have no doubt it 
 
14 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 
 
 was a brave answer ; and who knows but it may have 
 encouraged the disappointed man more than he knew ! 
 At any rate, Columbus and Diego set f(n-th to seek 
 the king and queen. They sailed from Genoa to 
 Palos, and then began their long journey to the royal 
 camp. 
 
 APPEAL OF COLUMBUS TO SPAIN. 
 
 Fortunately for the little Diego, they had advanced 
 but a mile or two when they came to a great stone 
 convent. Diego was hungry, and O, so thirsty. His 
 tired little legs were growing rather heavy, and but 
 for the brave little heart, determined to share his 
 father's hardships, the tears, I fear, would have gone 
 rolling down his cheeks. 
 
 Knocking at the great gateway of the convent, Col- 
 umbus asked for a cup of water and a slice of bread 
 for his child. It chanced that the Prior was just then 
 coming to the gate ; and when he noted the courteous 
 manners, the dignified carriage, and the intellectual 
 face of the stranger, he knew that it was no ordinary 
 begger that asked for help. 
 
 " Come in, good friend," said he, "and rest. The 
 little one looks tired and hungry." 
 
16 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 
 
 Columbus gladly entered ; and, as we might well 
 suppose, knowing how full Columbus' heart was with 
 his plan, it was not long before the two men were in 
 earnest conversation. Now, in those days, know- 
 ledge was confined to a few people, Ayho had given up 
 their lives to study, and had gone away from the world 
 into convents where they might have the use of books, 
 and might be taught by the few teachers of that day. 
 
 THE PRIOR. 
 
 The prior was one of these educated, thinking men ; 
 and so, as Columbus unfolded his plans to him, set- 
 ting forth his scientific reasons for the hope he had, 
 the monk was able to follow him intelligently. In- 
 deed, so convinced was he that Columbus was right, 
 that he promised to use whatever influence he had in 
 the church as a monk, and in the court as a man of 
 
CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 17 
 
 learning, to aid Coluin])u.s in carrying out hi» pro- 
 ject. 
 
 Day after day Columbus and the prior pored over 
 the convent books and maps, discussing whether 
 the earth was a globe or merely a flat expanse ; 
 whether by sailing around it Asia would be reached ; 
 or whether somewhere, far out at sea, might there be 
 a great unknown continent as large, perhaps, as the 
 one already known. 
 
 " Leave the little Diego here," said the prior, " and 
 with letters of introduction which I will gladly give 
 you, make your way to the camp at Cordova, where 
 you will And Ferdinand and Isabella. I can not but 
 think they will see the grandeur of your scheme, and 
 will help you." 
 
 Rested, and better still, cheered by this good man's 
 helpful words, Columbus set forth. It was a marvel- 
 lous military display that Columbus entered upon at 
 Cordova. All the chivalry of Spain, gleaming and 
 glittering in rich armor, was there ; the horses resplen- 
 dent in their gorgeous mountings, the bright banners, 
 the waving plumes, the grand, martial music — all 
 these made the scene one of rare beauty. But Colum- 
 bus hardly saw all this, felt no inspiration to join this 
 mighty throng, no pride that Spain was so grand and 
 powerful. He had a larger motive than that of going 
 forth to kill his fellowmen. This inspiration had come 
 
18 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 
 
 from truth, and he had a work to do that shoukl bene- 
 fit the workl. 
 
 IsabeUa's chaplain, to whom the prior had written a 
 letter introducing and recommending Columl)U8, 
 received Columbus with ti coldness that might well 
 have chilled the ardour in a man with a less import- 
 ant cause to present than Colum])us had. ^' Even a 
 slio^ht deofree of intelliorence and sense of thne and fit- 
 ness of opportunity," said he, "might teach you that 
 it would be ])ut an intrusion to present any plan, 
 however great and i)ro])a])le, to say nothing of this 
 absurd scheme of yours, to our sovereigns, oppressed 
 as they are now with the cares of war." 
 
 But as has always been the case in all history Avhen 
 the cause has 1)een great enough to swallow up self, 
 Columl)us i)ersevered regardless of the chaplain's 
 scorn and refusal to acquaint the king and queen of 
 his desires. He lingered about the camp, earning 
 what little he could from day to day by designing 
 charts and maps, telling his plans to any one intelli- 
 gent enough to listen, hoping, yes, determined that in 
 some way, sooner or later, he would gain an audience 
 with the queen. 
 
 Of course, like every man or woman, then and now, 
 who catches the glimmer of a light l^efore it reaches 
 the dull eyes of the world, Columbus was jeered at 
 and called a fool, an adventurer, a lunatic — a crank, 
 
CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 
 
 19 
 
 as we say to-day. But now and then he found a lis- 
 tener who could understand him, and who helped him 
 with sympathy and understanding, though they had 
 no money and no ships for him. 
 
 COLUMBUS TP.LLING HIS STORY TO THE MONK. 
 
 At last, report of Columbus' plan reached the ears 
 of the grand Cardinal of Spain. This man had so 
 much influence with the king and queen that he was 
 often called the third king. 
 
 He sought Columlnis out that he might for himself 
 hear what the stranoer had to tell. Columbus, full of 
 
20 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 
 
 faith in his theory, told his story with enthusiasm, and 
 with simple eloquence. 
 
 "This man is no fool,*' said the Cardinal. "He is a 
 thinker ; he is educated ; and he is not, as I have been 
 told, a half-crazed dreamer. Plis plans seem plausil)le ; 
 he knows whereof he speaks. The king and queen 
 should receive him. There is more m his theory than 
 idle fools can see." 
 
 It was, therefore, through the cardinal that Colum- 
 bus did at last obtain a hearing Avith the Spanish sov- 
 ereigns. Again did Columbus, with outspread maps 
 and astronomical charts, repeat his story. Not one 
 point or question but he could meet with reasonable 
 reply. The king, a cool, philosophical man, listened 
 critically, carefully questioning and weighing every 
 point. His ambition was excited. " If this man's 
 story is true," said he, "think what glory, what 
 wealth, what power will be added to Spain through 
 his possible explorations and discoveries." 
 
 But Ferdinand was a cautious man. "I will call a 
 council," said he, "of Spain's wisest men; and they 
 shall hear the story of this man Columbus, and they 
 shall decide what shall be done." 
 
 Columbus now rejoiced. The Cardinal and the 
 King believed him. Certainly the Council would 
 believe him too. 
 
 Thet^e "wisest men of Spain" met Columbus, who, more 
 
22 CHEISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 
 
 and more tilled with enthusiasm with each recital, 
 more certain than ever of the truth of his enterprise, 
 repeated his story with the eloquence that is born of 
 inspiration. It would seem to us to-day that a very 
 child might understand. But alas for Columbus ! 
 these wisest men proved his bitterest foes.- First the 
 scientific men arose. "The theory of this man,*' said 
 they, ''is absurd. Any one of common sense might 
 know this earth is flat. Suppose, for an instant, it 
 were round like a globe. Let us see what must fol- 
 low. Why, if there were people around on the under 
 side, then they must be walking with their feet up and 
 their heads d(nvn. The trees must be growing with 
 their l)ranches down and their roots u}). When it 
 rains it must rain upwards. Everything must be up- 
 side down, even if the people and the animals and the 
 houses could stay upon the earth. But we know, 
 moreover, that they would fall — down, down, down, 
 we know not where. Our noble king is far too sensi- 
 ble to be imposed upon by this half crazy wool- 
 comber.*' 
 
 Then some churchmen arose : '' We condemn this 
 man's scheme above all, because it is blasphemous," 
 said they. " It is in opposition to the teachings of the 
 Bible, and that is enough. The Scriptures tell us the 
 first people were born here on this side of the earth ; 
 and thev never could have wandered around to the 
 
CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 23 
 
 land on the other side of the earth even if there were 
 any land to wander to. How could a ship sail up and 
 back round to Spain again even if it could get down 
 to this man's visionary land underneath. It could not 
 be. But above all, we condemn this man for blas- 
 phemy, for heresy, for contempt for the teachings of 
 the Bible and the Church."' 
 
 To all these arguments, if such foolish words can be 
 called arguments, Columbus answered clearly and 
 simply. But it was lost upon these Ingoted men. He 
 was dismissed ; and the convention broke up, de- 
 lighted, no doubt, with the brilliancy of their own 
 logic. 
 
 COLUMBUS FAVORED BY ISABELLA. 
 
 it was a bitter disappointment to Columbus that he 
 had been so unreservedly condemned in this conven- 
 tion of "wisest men." For a time hope seemed dead. 
 The council, however, had unwittingly done him ser- 
 vice, in that it had 1)rought Columbus into public 
 notice, and had set the whole country talking and 
 thinking about him. And in spite of the decision of 
 the Council, there sjn'ang up here and there men 
 who dared claim that the Council had made a grave 
 mistake. 
 
24 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 
 
 For more than a year C'()lum])us remained about the 
 Court, still urging his elaim whenever he eould tind a 
 listening ear. Again he was eondemned by a Couneil 
 of "wise men." Wars arose, and Columbus was cast 
 aside. " Intrude upon our sovereigns no further," said 
 one of the Court, "until we are free from war at least.*' 
 
 There seemed, indeed, little prospect of aid from 
 Spain. Seven long years now he had s[)ent begging 
 the government to aid him in a })roject which was sure 
 to bring Spain nothing but honor and glory. 
 
 " I will go again to the convent and see my ])oy 
 Diego : then I will appeal to the French Court," said 
 Columbus. 
 
 Again, travel-worn and weary, his face now fur- 
 rowed with care, his hair whitened, hi^ body bent with 
 fast approaching age, Columbus arrived at the convent 
 gate. The good prior received him with hearty wel- 
 come. Again they talked over the belief of possible 
 lands across the sea ; and when Colum])us proposed 
 now turning to France for aid, the i)rior, more con- 
 vinced than ever as the years rolled on, was arousied. 
 "This glory must not pass out of Spain," said he. 
 " Something must be done. How can the philoso- 
 phers and the churchmen })e so short-sighted ? " 
 
 Accordingly, he wrote a long letter to Isabella, 
 urging her to consider well Columbus' claim, and to 
 allow no })rejudice to blind her to the truth that seemed 
 
CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 
 
 25 
 
 SO clear. Now, this prior was a great t'rieiul of Isa- 
 bella's, and was held in high esteem hy her. 
 
 Isabella, thoug'h Aveighed down with cares, gave 
 heed to the priof s appeal. 
 
 THE PRIOR ON HIS WAY TO ISABELLA. 
 
 "Come to me," wrote she in reply. " I would hear 
 of this man and of his claims. I feel there is much 
 of truth in them." 
 
20 
 
 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS 
 
 COLUMBUS APPEALS TO ISABELLA. 
 
CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 27 
 
 When this letter came, great was the rejoicing in 
 the little convent. " I will set forth at once,*' said 
 the prior, " and tell your story to our Queen." 
 
 Now, Ferdinand was King of Aragon only ; and 
 Isabella was Queen of Castile in her own right. She 
 had, therefore, her own revenue, her own army, and 
 her own court ; and was able to move in this matter, 
 as in any other, freely and independently of Ferdi- 
 nand. 
 
 "I have never given this much thought," said she. 
 "The Council met with Ferdinand the King, and, 
 busy with other matters, I inquired little of this. But 
 it interests me. It impresses me. You will send 
 Columbus to me at once." 
 
 Once more the star of hope seemed to have arisen. 
 Presenting himself before the Queen, not as a beggar, 
 but as one who oftered her a golden opportunity, he 
 said, "I ask only for a few ships and a few sailors Avith 
 which to travel w^estward over the now unknown 
 ocean. I will thus hnd for your majesty a new and 
 shorter route to India, and will open to you an 
 unknown land, the wealth and })ower of which no man 
 can estimate. In return, I ask only that I may be 
 made Viceroy of what I may discover, and that I be 
 granted one-tenth of the wealth that I may bring to 
 Spain." 
 
 "What audacity ! " cried the courtiers. "To make 
 
QUEEN ISABELLA 
 
CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 29 
 
 terms with the Queen ! A mere beggarly sea-captain ! 
 A common wool-comber ! " 
 
 Influenced by these courtiers, the queen summoned 
 Columbus again to her, offering to aid him if he would 
 make his own demands less extravagent. 
 
 But Columbus would not yield. "I go not as a 
 hireling," said he with pride. 
 
 Isabella was annoyed. She was willing to assist 
 him; more than that, she desired to assist him; but 
 to be dictated to as to her terms, was something new 
 to her queenship ; and Columbus was dismissed with 
 a great show of freezing dignity. 
 
 N'ow, indeed, Columbus' last hope of aid from Spain 
 was dead. Sadly he remounted his mule, and started 
 upon his journey back to the convent. 
 
 " I am not content to have dismissed this man 
 Columbus,'' said she to Ferdinand. '^ The character 
 of his mind, the grandeur of his schemes, his educa- 
 tion, and his line l)reeding tell me he is no common 
 adventurer. And if his story should be true, and 
 some other country should aid him, what disgrace 
 would be reflected upon us, and what a loss would it 
 be to our country." 
 
 "But war has cost us so much," said Ferdinand. 
 
 " Still something tells me it should be done. Yes, 
 and it shall be done. I will pledge my jewels to raise 
 the funds ! " cried Isabella, moved by a sudden 
 impulse. And, calling a servant, a courier was sent 
 
30 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 
 
 with all speed to overtake Columbus and bring him 
 again to the queen. 
 
 Now, these words of Isabella sound very heroic and 
 self-sacriticing. They have made a pretty little speech 
 to pass down in history l)y the admirers of this queen. 
 But I am afraid we must admit that while they were 
 genuine in their impulse, they were not so geniune in 
 the spirit of sacrifice ; for when we read that in the 
 recent war Isabella had filled her cofters to overflow- 
 ing, by her almost perfidious conduct towards the 
 Moors of Malaga, we have to acknowledge that there 
 was little call for her to sacrifice her jewels. Still let 
 us respect her impulse, and remember that, if she had 
 not moved perhaps no one else would have, and 
 Columbus, already old and broken, might have died, 
 and so the result of his thought have been lost. 
 
 Columbus, with l)owed head and heavy heart, was 
 toiling across the sands, only a few miles advanced on 
 his journey. Deep in thought as he was, the clatter- 
 inof of the hoofs of the couriers horse did not reach 
 him until he heard, "Columbus ! Columbus! In the 
 name of the Queen I command you to return to the 
 Court." 
 
 For a moment Columbus hesitated. So long had he 
 waited, so often had he been repulsed, he had little 
 now Init distrust of both Spanish sovereigns. Assured 
 by the courier, however, that the queen was really in 
 earnest now, he turned back, half in hope, half in doubt. 
 
CHKISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 
 
 31 
 
 COLUMBUS' FIRST VOYAGE. 
 
 When Isabella came to a decision she was quick to 
 act. She at once summoned Columbus to her 
 presence, and told him that she readily assented to all 
 his demands, and that a Heet should at once be fitted 
 out. 
 
 SANTA MARIA, NINA AND PINT A. 
 
 As the exiicdition was considered a^nono- the com- 
 ■■■ ~ 
 
 mon people to ])e one of foolhardiness, it was not an 
 easy thing to find a crew willing to risk the dangers of 
 the voyaofe. Added to this, the ominous headshakinofs 
 of some i)ersons, and the prophecies of disaster to any 
 enteri)rise that was so plainly in opposition to their 
 
32 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 
 
 belief, so played upon the iii:norant superstition of the 
 people that it was sometime ])efore the ships could be 
 manned and all got in readiness for the departure. 
 
 It was early on a l)right, sunny morning in August, 
 1492, that Columbus with his little fleet of three ves- 
 sels — the Santa Maria, the Nina and the Pinta — set 
 out from the harbor of Palos. 
 
 Columbus directed his course to the Canary Islands. 
 For a time, and as long as 'the way was familiar, the 
 crew behaved fairly well. But as day after day w^ent 
 l)y, and land was no longer to be seen, mutiny began to 
 show itself. The sailors were all ignorant, super- 
 stitious men, many of whom had heen forced by the 
 government into this service. Only the third day out 
 and the rudder of one of the vessels mysteriously dis- 
 appeared. Columl)us had good reason to suspect that 
 it had been unfastened by some one of his cowardly 
 crew ; but he wisely said nothing and quietly went to 
 work to replace it. 
 
 At the end of the seventh day the Canary Islands 
 were reached. This was the farthest known limit of 
 the world. For three weeks Columbus remained here, 
 repairing his vessels and replenishing his supplies. At 
 the end of that time the fleet set forth again, this time 
 really out upon the " unknown sea.*' Hardly Avere 
 they out of sight of the islands when a " dead calm" 
 settled upon them. For three Avhole days did this 
 
CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 33 
 
 last, and the vessels, wholly at the mercy of the waves, 
 rolled and dipped upon the glassy w^ater. 
 
 The sailors were terror-stricken. " Are we to lie 
 here and die? "asked one. ''Are we beyond the 
 reach of the wind ! " asked another. " We must be in 
 shallow w^ater near the edge of the earth ! " cried 
 another. 
 
 "Perhaps we shall be rocked over, down, down into 
 space ! " whined another, his knees shaking with fear. 
 
 " It is as the people said," groaned another ; '' no 
 good will come of such a sacrilegious voyage as this." 
 
 " May the Father forgive us ! " cried another. '' He 
 knows we would not have come. His curse will fall 
 upon them that forced us to this," 
 
 All this, together with the sullen looks and the 
 angry mutterings, was anything but a help to Colum- 
 bus, weighed down as he was himself with anxiety. 
 
 Glad indeed was he when at last a still* l)reeze arose, 
 and again the vessels were speeding along. The sail- 
 ors were convinced that they were not beyond the 
 reach of the winds, at least. 
 
 So the days passed on. One night a meteor shot 
 across the sky, falling with hissing rage into the ocean. 
 Again the superstitious sailors were convulsed with 
 fear. "This surely was a thunderbolt from heaven !" 
 
 By and ])y they struck the trade winds. Again the 
 seamen were terrified as the vessels were swept along 
 from east to west. 
 
34 
 
 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 
 
 " Now," said the sailors, "we are in the very centre 
 of the home of the winds. They are angry Avith us 
 that we have found their home." 
 
 LOOKING FOR LAND. 
 
 With such men as these, and with so much at stake, 
 is it any wonder that Columbus resorted to all sorts of 
 artifices to keep the crew from knowing the great dis- 
 tance they had sailed. Two tables did Columlnis keep 
 — one of which was accurate, the other only half- 
 
CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 35 
 
 reckoned, with which he could keep the fears of the 
 crew within control. 
 
 Now there were signs of land. Great masses of sea- 
 weed now and then appeared. Birds alighted on the 
 mast-heads. A green l>ranch floated by. 
 
 Great was the joy of all, Columlnis as well as his 
 crew, when the cry of " Land I Land ! There is land 
 ahead ! " rang out over the waters. 
 
 All rushed to the deck. Sure enough I there was 
 land ahead. During the night a strange light had been 
 seen moving to and fro. Now indeed were they sure 
 that land was near. As the sun rose, throwino- its 
 light more and more l)rightly upon the land, they saw 
 that there lay before them a l)eautiful, low island, rich 
 in its wealth of tropical foliage. To the weary sailors 
 eyes it seemed as if there never were such trees, never 
 such green earth, never such a beautiful shore ! 
 
 Out from the forest thronged the natives, chatter- 
 ing and gesticulating in the wildest manner. The 
 boats were lowered ; and Columbus, dressed in rich 
 robes of scarlet, and with rich Castilian plumes, 
 approached the shore. Such a wealth of flowers down 
 to the very water's edge ! In the midst of them, 
 Columbus knelt and gave thanks to God. His sailors, 
 some of them truly penitent, others cringing, in the 
 hope that their cowardice might be forgotten, knelt 
 about him weeping, praying, rejoicing — all full of 
 
TAKING POSSESSION OF THE NEW LAND. 
 
CHRISTOPHER COLITMBUS. 
 
 37 
 
 wild delight that the perils were over, and that in 
 spite of the croakings of the Spanish monks, they were 
 safely on shore onee more. 
 
 With most imposing ceremony, Columbus took 
 possession of the new land in the name of Spain. The 
 natives, timidly looking on, with awe-struck faces, 
 watched every movement of the " people of the sky " 
 as they l^elieved they were. By and by, finding that 
 their visitors seemed in nowise inclined to do them 
 harm, the natives came forward, bringing fruit and 
 bread, and showing in every possible way through 
 sign language, their desire to welcome their guests. 
 
 All day long the sailors wandered about the island, 
 eating the rich fruit, wondering at the strange homes 
 of the natives, and admiring the grand 1)eauty of the 
 forest. At night all returned to the ships. In the 
 morning, at the first sign of life, a throng of natives 
 plunged into the water and swam to the ships' sides. 
 Kindly they were received, and after a short visit, 
 during which they sharply inspected the " strange white 
 birds" as they called the ships, they swam Imck, 
 delighted as children with the liits of colored lieads 
 that Columbus had siven them. 
 
38 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 
 
 TREACHERY TO THE NATIVES. 
 
 In ti day or two Columbus set out with his boats to 
 make a tour of the island. Everywhere he found the 
 same beautiful foliage, the clear, sparkling waters, the 
 abundant fruits. But Columbus, like his successors in 
 Spanish explorations was looking for wealth. Rich 
 foliage and sparkling waters were hardly gifts to carry 
 back to Isabella. 
 
 One morning, there appeared at the water's edge, 
 some beautiful women decked out with bright feathers, 
 and with bright yellow rings of gold in their noses. 
 Eagerly Columbus approached them, and made offers 
 to exchange his bright colored beads for the golden 
 rings. "Here at last," said Columbus, "is an indica- 
 tion of gold. We must find w^here it came from." 
 
 Closely inquiring of the natives, they told him, or 
 at least he thought they did, judging as well as he 
 could from their signs and unknown words, that some- 
 where, farther south, was a land of gold. There was 
 a king there, so they said, who sat upon a golden 
 throne and was served upon golden dishes. 
 
 "We must seize some of these natives," said Colum- 
 bus, " and teach them Spanish. We can never learn 
 anything without interpreters. Seven men were 
 accordingly chosen, and were carried on ship-board 
 Some say these seven natives went willingly : but 
 
CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 39 
 
 there is a story told of one, who, seeing a canoe-load 
 of his people at a little distance from the ship, sprang 
 overboard and swam to them so rapidly that the 
 Spaniards could not overtake him. This story, if 
 true, looks as if the natives were given very little 
 choice as to whether they would serve their Spanish 
 guests or not. 
 
 A boat set off in ])ursuit of the canoe ; but reached 
 it only in time to see its occupants flee into the forests, 
 leaving the canoe upon the shore. The canoe the 
 sailors took back to their ship, as a trophy to be 
 exhibited by and l)y in Spain. This was a mean act; 
 for the generous natives would gladly have given them 
 more canoes than they could have carried ; and simple- 
 hearted people that they w^ere, would have been proud 
 that they had anything that seemed worthy to be 
 carried away by these "people from the sky." 
 
 At another time, a native, having lieard that the 
 Spaniards would buy their balls of cotton, paddled up 
 to the shii)'s side and held up a large ball for the 
 sailors to see. The sailors, leaning over, and pretend- 
 ing to examine the cotton, seized the poor native and 
 dragged him on board. 
 
 Columl)us, who had seen this mean act, ordered the 
 captive to be brought to him. The poor Indian, 
 trem])ling with fear, dropped upon his knees before 
 Colum])us, holding up the ball of cotton, as if to say, 
 
40 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 
 
 "I meant no harm. I only wanted to change my cot- 
 ton for a l>it of coh)red glass. O, children of the skies ! 
 let me he free, let me he free I " 
 
 Columbus, sternly relinking his sailors, gave the 
 poor Indian a string of bright beads, placed upon his 
 head a gay colored cap, and ordered him to be jnit 
 into his canoe and allowed to return to the island. 
 
 Columbus, it is said, was always kind to the natives, 
 and was careful that his sailors, as far as he was able 
 to command, should also l)e careful in their treatment 
 of them. It would have been well had the successors 
 of Columbus followed his policy in this respect, as 
 well as in many others. 
 
 ALONZO PINZON. 
 
 Alonzo Pinzon was the commander of the Pinta. 
 Being a man of equal intelligence in affairs of the sea, 
 he had lent his wealth and influence most heartily 
 to aid Columbus in his enterprise, and had, during 
 the voyage, proved himself Columbus' "right-hand 
 man," as we say. It was he who assisted Columbus 
 in fitting out his ships ; it was he, who, during the first 
 days of the voyage, when the superstitious sailors 
 
CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 
 
 41 
 
 were beside themselves with fright, encouraged and 
 cheered them on with promises of reward ; it was he, 
 who, hiter on the voyage, when there Avas gruml)ling 
 and muttering and mutiny, helped Columbus to keep 
 the crew in check, and make it possible to reach the 
 newly discovered country. 
 
 One would suppose from all this, that Columbus and 
 Pinzon would have been the best of friends ; that they 
 would have held their success so much a thing of com- 
 mon interest and of common glory that separation 
 would have l^een an impossibility. 
 
 But the same old enemy, self, that is always getting 
 
42 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 
 
 in our way to make us do unworthy acts, seems to 
 have taken possession of these two men. Columbus, 
 good man as he was, began to grow a little jealous of 
 Pinzon. He grew suspicious of him, thought he was 
 a little too commanding, and hardly as willing to yield 
 to Columlms' authority as he ought to be. 
 
 Pinzon, on his side, thought thus : "I am not Col- 
 umbus' follower. Was I not one of the chief workers, 
 both w^ith money and with influence, in this enterprise 
 of his ? What do I owe this man ? Does he not rather 
 owe me money, labor, influence — everything that has 
 made it possible for him to succeed in his undertaking ? 
 And now he would make a mere hireling of me. 
 We'll see. I shall show him that Alonzo Pinzon is no 
 shive of his." 
 
 For some time this feeling between these two men, 
 who should have been the l)est of friends, had been 
 grrowins: more and more bitter. Each was on the alert 
 for some oflfence committed by the other. 
 
 One night, when the three shii)s had been cruising 
 about among the islands, Columbus, as usual, put up 
 the signal to return to the harbor. But Pinzon paid 
 no heed Avhatever. On he went, and when morning 
 dawned, the Pinta was no where in sight. Pinzon had 
 evidently gone on a cruise of his oAvn. 
 
 Colum])us was annoyed and angry. Had Pinzon 
 gone cruising al)out hy himself; or Avhat would be 
 
CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 43 
 
 Tvorse still, had he set out for Spain, that he might be 
 the first to announce the tidings of the great dis- 
 covery, and so enjoy the glory that would l)e heaped 
 upon him when the wonderful success of the voyage 
 was known. "Little credit for its success," thought 
 Columbus l)itterly, '' will he be likely to give to me." 
 
 But it was of little use to pursue Pinzon's vessel. 
 The ocean was far too large — and the ocean tells no 
 tales. Columbus, therefore, continued his explora- 
 tions from island to island, desiring now, more than 
 ever, that somewhere he might find gold and silver, 
 and so carry home to Spain something to weigh in his 
 own favor over and alcove an3^1-eports, any mere word- 
 pictures, Avith which Pinzon might endeavor to steal 
 from him the favor of the Spanish sovereigns. 
 
 On one island, he was told there lived a tribe of 
 man-eaters — the Caribs, as they called them. On 
 another island he found trees so large that the natives 
 were able to dig out from one of them a canoe large 
 enough and long enough to carry a hundred men. On 
 another island, which he named Hispaniola (Little 
 Spain) he found the natives livhig in houses with gar- 
 dens, and these grouped in little villages. The people 
 everywhere were friendly, welcoming the Spaniards 
 always as wonderful beings just come from the skies ; 
 and at Hispaniola the king, so Columbus wrote to 
 Isabella, was so generously inclined, and so proud of 
 
44 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 
 
 his visitors that he everywhere presented Columbus 
 to his people as " my brother." 
 
 At one time, when the sailors were ramliling- about 
 the island, they came in sight of a l)and of natives 
 playing and laughing and racing with each other. At 
 sight of the Spaniards, the islanders lied. The Span- 
 iards gave chase. One beautiful young girl was cap- 
 tured and carried to the ship. Poor, frightened child ! 
 trembling like a leaf, she was l^rought ])efore Colum- 
 bus. Again did he win the conhdence of the simple- 
 hearted people, and the respect of all of us Avho read 
 about him, by treating her with gentle kindness. 
 Putting upon her a l)eautiful robe, and giving her a 
 bunch of little tinkling l>ells, he l)ade his sailors 
 return her to her people. '' It was vastly amusing," 
 Columbus wrote, "to watch this young maiden 
 strutting up and down the shore arrayed in her won- 
 derful robe, and followed by throngs of admiring 
 natives." A few days later, when Columl)us and his 
 men went on shore, this same maiden Avas l)orne upon 
 a sort of litter down to the shore to greet the Spaniards 
 as they landed. She was still arrayed in her ro])e 
 and was prouder of her little ])ells and the strings of 
 colored ])eads than ever was a queen with all her 
 costly jewels. 
 
 Among all these people, Columbuji found great 
 readiness and willingness on their part to give to the 
 
CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 45 
 
 new comers anything and everything they owned. 
 But Columbus never took advantage of their simple 
 generosity. For every bit of gold, he always returned 
 something from the ships which to the Indian should 
 be of more than equal value. 
 
 One morning, just as the sun was gilding the ocean 
 with its golden light, a great canoe pushed otf from an 
 island near l)y and darted forward towards the ships. 
 
 In this canoe, gay ly arrayed in 1) right plumes and 
 feathers, sat a messenger from the island chief. He 
 brought to Columbus a beautiful belt, embroidered 
 Avith beads, carved bits of iA^ory, and decorated Avith a 
 little head, very neatly carved, and set Avith bits of 
 gold. 
 
 The am])assador 1)rou<>ht from their chief oreetinii:, 
 and an invitation to come to their island to visit. 
 Columlnis of course accepted this cordial iuAdtation. 
 He found the chief liAnng in a beautiful toAvn, laid out 
 with streets and a large, nicely-kept pul^lic square. 
 From all the towns a])out, the natives thronged to see 
 the people from the sky. "Their hospitality," Avrote 
 Columbus, "might Avell have put to shame the hospi- 
 tality of many a ciAdlized town." 
 
 It was oft' the coast of this island, that Columbus 
 vessel Avas one night Avrecked. And Avhen Avord of 
 the disaster reached the island chief, it is said he Avept 
 aloud. Then summoning all his men, he ordered 
 
46 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 
 
 every canoe, great and small,to hasten to the Spaniards' 
 relief. The chief himself worked hard a T\;hole day 
 and a whole night, helping to unload the sinking ves- 
 sel. Standing over the cargo himself, he guarded it 
 faithfully ; and not one article, tempting as it must 
 have been, to the natives, was stolen. Indeed, there 
 seemed no inclination on the part of any of the natives 
 to carry away anything from the ship. The things 
 were to the natives all wonderful and beautiful ; but 
 the simple fact that they did not ])elong to them, 
 seemed reason enough why they should not be taken ; 
 and a certain noble sense of honor seemed to hold 
 them above any thought of taking advantage of the 
 Spaniard's misfortune. 
 
 For sometime Columbus and his men remained upon 
 this island. In comfortable houses, living upon rich 
 fruit and the freshest of meat and tish, surrounded 
 with every possi])le comfort, the sailors would hardly 
 have rebelled had Columbus resolved to live on and 
 on Avith no thought of return to Spain. But with the 
 Pinta gone, he knew not where, the other ship wrecked, 
 Columbus felt that it would be wisest to hasten to 
 Spain before some disaster overtook their one remain- 
 ing vessel. 
 
 And so, leaving a little colony who should await his 
 return, he sailed away. 
 
CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 47 
 
 THE RETURN VOYAGE. 
 
 It was in January that Colum])U8 set forth again to 
 cross the water. Baffled by cahns and liead- winds, 
 the little vessel made its way l)ut slowly out from 
 among the mountains. Hardly had it sailed fifty miles 
 when the pilot cried, "The Plnta I the Pinta ! " 
 
 Sure enough, there was the Pinta, At once a sig- 
 nal was run up which this time Pinzon readily obeyed. 
 
 It was a weak sort of an excuse Pinzon had to offer 
 for his desertion, which, even if Columbus had ])een a 
 little unfair in his treatment of him, was not quite an 
 honora])le thing to do. 
 
 Columl)us was not at all deceived h\ his excuses ; 
 but accepted them Avithout relnike, thinking it policy 
 just then to have no trouble with Pinzon. 
 
 The truth of Pinzon's disertion was this : An Indian 
 had told him of a rich mine, a short distance from 
 where the vessels were, and he, his greediness aroused, 
 conceived at once the plan of finding this mine, speed- 
 ily filling the vessel, and returning to Spain with his 
 precious freight. As an excuse for separating him- 
 self from his commander, he proposed to say that a 
 storm had drifted them apart, and that l^eing unable 
 to find him, he had at once loaded his vessel and set 
 forth for Spain alone. 
 
 No mine, however, had been discovered, and now 
 
48 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 
 
 Pinzon had sailed l>ack to Hispaniola in search of the 
 other ships. 
 
 The return voyage was one of peril. Storms and 
 calms followed one after the other in swift succession. 
 Black tempests, roaring billows and dense darkness so 
 confused the leaders that their reckoning was lost. 
 
 After one terrible night, during which the ocean had 
 dashed with maddened fury against the frail vessel, and 
 nothing could l)e seen or heard save its fierce, white- 
 capped crests and their deafening roar, Columbus, far 
 more concerned that the knowledge of his discovery 
 should be saved than that he should live to bear it to 
 the queen, Avrote an account of it, sealed it in a strong, 
 water-tight cask, and threw it overboard, hoping that 
 someway it might fall into honest hands, and ])e 
 delivered up to the sovereigns of Spain. 
 
 But Columbus and his crew were not to be lost. 
 The storm cleared, and the vessel made its way in 
 safety to Spain. 
 
 You may be sure Columbus and his men were glad 
 indeed to sail again into the harl)or of Palos. 
 
 Such an excitement as was created all through 
 Europe. The glad tidings swept like a mighty wind 
 over Spain. Bonfires l)lazed from every high place, 
 church bells rang, salutes were fired. 
 
 In the midst of all this joyous celebration Pinzon's 
 vessel , which had been lost sight of during the terrible 
 
COLUMBUS' RECEPTION ON HIS RETURN TO SPAIN. 
 
50 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 
 
 gales, now came sailing up the liar])or. Driven by 
 wind and wave it had made its way to the Bay of Bis- 
 cay, from whence it now came. 
 
 Bitterly now did Pinzon regret his ignoble ])ehavior. 
 Generous as he had ])een with his Avealth, valual)le as 
 he had been Avith his aid, it seems a pity that this one 
 error of his should now steal from him the honor 
 really due him, and plunge him into such disgrace. 
 
 Sailins: into the harbor midst all this enthusiasm over 
 the arrival of Cokimbus, and knowing how little of the 
 good will Avould the people give to him, he hurried him 
 self into a small boat, secretly landed, and made his 
 way to his own home. 
 
 Pinzon was in deep disgrace. He was forl)idden to 
 appear at court ; and, indeed, little courage had he to 
 appear even in the streets of his own city, so deeply did 
 he feel the scorn that the connnon people were so ready 
 to pour out upon him. 
 
 Pinzon lived onl}' a short time. Crushed by the 
 sense of his own folly, and stung ])y the jeers and 
 laughter which everywhere greeted him, he sickened 
 and died. 
 
 Let us remember that in everything ])ut this one 
 act of desertion Pinzon had been bra\^ and true, and 
 was by no means deserving of quite so much disgrace 
 as was h<3aped upon him. I have always been glad 
 that, at a later day, in recognition of his valuable ser- 
 
CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 51 
 
 vices, hi8 family Avere highly honored ])y the court, 
 given the rank of nobility and a coat-of-arms, sugges- 
 tive of the great discovery which, in no small part, 
 Pinzon had helped to make. 
 
 THE SECOND VOYAGE. 
 
 Columlnis for the time being was indeed the hero of 
 the world. The people of Genoa, that so shortly before 
 had called him an ignorant wool-coml)er, now began to 
 boast that Columbus was a Genoese. Spain puffed 
 herself that she had rendered him the aid he asked for. 
 
 England quoted loudly the fact that an ambassador 
 of hers had been, at the very time Isabella had recalled 
 Columbus to court, far on his journey Spain-ward to 
 offer Columl)us her support in his plans for sailing 
 around the world. All the friends who had ])elieved 
 in him l)efore he sailed, now strutted about, glorifying 
 themselves in his reflected light. And even those who 
 had scoffed at him and jeered at him, managed by 
 great stretch of conscience and of memory, to recall 
 some little word, of approval or of encouragement that 
 they had given him, which should now ])e made to 
 redound to their own honor. "O, there's nothing 
 succeeds like success," some one has humorously 
 
52 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 
 
 remarked. And wouldn't you suppose that after a 
 time human nature would learn to be cautious, even 
 if it can't be generous, when scmie one like Columbus 
 comes forward with some great thought, some great 
 plan, some great invention, Avhich, at the time, does 
 seem almost impossible to be proved true. Let us 
 remember this : — there never yet has l)een a great man 
 or a great wornan but the world has sneered at, scoffed 
 at, and called either a knave or a fool. It should 
 teach us to be careful lest we do the same thing : and, 
 like the scoffers at Columbus, tind ourselves eating 
 very " humble pie '' after the opportunity to be gener- 
 ous has gone by. 
 
 When Columbus started on his second voyage, 
 there Avas no lack of money, or vessels, or of sailors, 
 you may be sure. He had quite as much troul)le now 
 in this liood of encouragement as he had previously 
 had in the drought. 
 
 One of the men who w^ent on this second voyage 
 with Colum1)us, was named Ojeda. He was of noble 
 birth, had been brought up under the care of a distin- 
 guished duke, one of the richest and most influential 
 in all Spain. Ojeda was a most reckless cavalier; one ' 
 who seemed to know not the meaning of the word fear, 
 but seemed rather to rejoice in the wildest, most dan- 
 gerous ad ve nture s . 
 
 On this voyage the fleet put in at the Antilles. Here 
 
^ CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 53 
 
 they found, so some of our histories tell us, an iskmd 
 of man-eaters. These man-eaters ravaged the island, 
 killing- the aged, stealing the strong, young maidens 
 to hold as slaves, and eating the young men. A small 
 party of Spaniards went to explore this island. It 
 was long past the time for them to return, still no sign 
 of them. Colum])us was alarmed. Trumpets were 
 blown, guns were tired ; Init no reply came to their 
 signals. 
 
 Then Ojeda volunteered to make an exploration of 
 the island. The island was searched for days, ]>ut 
 the lost ones could not be found. It was with a sad 
 heart that Cohim])us prepared to sail away. Just 
 then the men appeared. Ragged and hungry, their 
 appearance was pitiful. They had been lost in the 
 tangled thickets of the forests, and only with the great- 
 est difficulty had made their way out, 
 
 On another island, when the Spaniards landed, the 
 people, — Caribs, fought with desperation — men and 
 women alike. The canoe from which they were hurlino- 
 their arrows was overturned; still they fought on, 
 hurling their arrows seemingly as rapidly as from their 
 boat. They were captured at last. Such hideous 
 creatures ! long, straggling hair, wild eyes, their faces 
 daubed with paint. They were like wild animals ; and 
 though strongly bound, they behaved like caged tigers, 
 clankins: their chains and yellinof and howlino-. 
 
54 CHRISTOPHEK COLUMBUS. 
 
 From here Columbus sailed on to islands he had 
 discovered in his first voyage. One night, as they 
 " lay to " not far from the shore , a canoe came towards 
 the vessel. An Indian stood in the bow. Coming up 
 close to the ship he asked for Columbus ; nor would 
 he come on board until Columbus himself appeared on 
 deck. 
 
 He came to tell Columbus that the island upon 
 which in his first voyage he had left a little colony 
 of Spaniards, had been attacked, many of the natives 
 killed, and the chief himself severely wounded. 
 
 The next day Columbus went to the island, but 
 found the towns in ruins. Could it be that the good 
 chief had been treacherous? Or had the Spaniards 
 driven the natives to desperation by some cruel domi- 
 neering behavior on their part. Columbus almost 
 feared it might be the latter. Clearly had he warned 
 the men that both for policy's sake and because it was 
 rights they should be fair in their treatment of the 
 simple-hearted natives. 
 
 It was sometime before any reliable report could be 
 gained. The truth came out, however, at last. And 
 the trouble was, as it always was afterwards in the 
 annals of Spanish doings in this country, all due to 
 the perfidy of the Spaniards. No sooner had Columbus 
 gone, than these men began a series of petty persecu- 
 tions upon the natives. The natives and the neighbor- 
 
CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 55 
 
 ing tribes endured it as iono- as they could. Then an 
 attack was made upon the Avhite men and everyone of 
 them sUiin. 
 
 So the cruising about the islands went on. Col- 
 onies Avere founded, gold was collected, and the time 
 came when Columbus thought it wise to return to 
 Spain. There had been many pleasant things connected 
 with this voyage, but there had been much that was 
 disappointing, heart-sickening, discouraging. 
 
 As he sailed away, he was overtaken by a canoe in 
 which were an Indian and his family. 
 
 " Good friend," said he, coming up to the side of 
 the vessel, " we wish to go Avith you to your land. 
 We wish to be under your protection, and become 
 subjects to your king and queen." 
 
 Columbus looked upon these Indians with compas- 
 sion ; and when he thouo'ht what unfair treatment, 
 what slavery would l)e their share in his country, he 
 had by far too great compassion on them to allow 
 them, innocent and ignorant as they were, to be car- 
 ried away from their native land. So loading them 
 with presents, and promising that in some future time 
 he would come again, he sent them back to their 
 island. 
 
 The voyage to Spain was as perilous as had been 
 the first return. Tempest assailed them, the fleet was 
 scattered, and the crew suflered bitterly from cold and 
 
56 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 
 
 starvation. Columbus, working .side by side with the 
 sailors, Avorn out with toil and suffering, overtaxed 
 with anxiety, was stricken with illness. In a state of 
 unconsciousness, he was borne from the vessel on its 
 arrival at the Spanish port, into the presence of the 
 sovereians. 
 
 TREACHERY OF THE SPANIARDS. 
 
 As soon as Columbus had sufficiently recovei'ed to 
 be able to cross the ocean again, he was anxious to get 
 back to his colonies. He had many 1)itter enemies — 
 envious, jealous men — both in Spain and at the town 
 of Isabella, which he had founded and had made a 
 centre ; but he had equally strong friends. It was 
 fast coming to be a question which party should suc- 
 ceed before the sovereigns. The lightening never 
 strikes the grass, you know; ])ut if one puts his head 
 above, standing out as Columbus did, like the grand 
 oak, he must know that he makes himself a target for 
 the arrows of hate . 
 
 When Columbus came away from the island of Hayti, 
 he had left a Spaniard there with four hundred sol- 
 diers to explore the island. 
 
CHKISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 57 
 
 Don Pedro Margarite was the Spaniard's name. 
 Kegardless of the instructions of CoUimhus, he began 
 at once to take possession of anything and everything 
 on the ishmd that suited his fancy. The Indian dwell- 
 ings were robbed, the maidens stolen, the children 
 massacred. 
 
 Report of this unwarranted ])ehavior reached the 
 ears of Columbus' brother who was in charge in 
 another island. But the proud Spaniard sent back 
 the reply that he did not propose to be subject to 
 wool-coml)ers. 
 
 He paid no heed to the warning, but plunged into 
 cruelty more deeply than ever. 
 
 At last, the natives, goaded to desperation, rose in 
 rebellion. A confederacy was formed. Thousands 
 of warriors marched against Margarite and his l)and. 
 A terrible insurrection was at hand. Ojeda, like a 
 fanged wolf, leapt madly into the fiercest of the con- 
 flict. 
 
 Margarite, angry that Columlms should be in control 
 over him, hastened to the town of Isabella, and plot- 
 ting with other nobles there, who now that the poor 
 wool-comber had met the peril and liorne all the hard- 
 ship of discovery and exploration, were ready to 
 destroy him, seized upon several of Columbus' vessels 
 and sailed for Spain. They reached there shortly 
 after Columbus had been taken into the presence of 
 
58 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 
 
 the sovereigns, and taking advantage of his illness, 
 they raised a general clamor against him. 
 
 Sadly did Columbus listen to stories of Spanish 
 cruelty and of the Indian uprisings. His only thought 
 was of how peace was to be restored. 
 
 There was one Indian chief of influence to whom 
 CoIum])as appealed. He sent messengers to him, 
 and assured him that the cruel behavior of the Span- 
 iards had l)een contrary to his commands, and that it 
 was his desire to live in peace with the natives. 
 
 There was one chief, Caonabo, the leader in the 
 confederacy of natives, and the fiercest of warriors. 
 "And I," said Ojeda, "am the fiercest of Spaniards." 
 There was between these two a sort of fascination. 
 "I will capture this chief," said Ojeda, "or he shall 
 capture me." 
 
 So, selecting ten companions, all mounted on most 
 powerful horses, they plunged into the forests and 
 bore down upon the village in which Caonabo lived, 
 
 Approaching him with great show of reverence, 
 Ojeda said, "I come from Columbus. I bring rich 
 presents and implore you to cease from quarreling, 
 and to agree to terms of peace." 
 
 Caonabo had suffered terribly from this cruel war- 
 fare, and was not unwillingtomaket^rms with his foe. 
 
 Ojeda quickly saw this, and so pressed his plans 
 farther. 
 
CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 59 
 
 " If you will come to Isabella," said this scheming 
 young Spaniard, " you shall receive the highest of 
 honors from Columbus. You shall be loaded with 
 presents, and Columbus himself awaits you." 
 
 Still the chief hesitated. And now came Ojeda s 
 master-stroke. "My chief," said he, "bade me tell 
 you that he had long known your liking for the bell 
 that hano-s in the tower of our chapel at Isabella. 
 And he wished me to tell you that already workmen 
 are prepared to take it down from the tower that he 
 may be able to present it to you." 
 
 This was irresistible. The chief now consented to 
 go with Ojeda to the Spanisn town. 
 
 When the time came for departure, behold, Caonabo 
 brought with him a great number of his fiercest war- 
 riors. 
 
 "AVhy these warriors?" said Ojeda, suspicious that 
 Caonabo, too, might be playing a double game. 
 
 " It is not becoming that so great a chief as I 
 should go into the presence of so great a chief as 
 Columbus without attendants," replied Caonabo sim- 
 
 As they went on their march, Ojeda produced a set 
 of steel hand-cuffs. 
 
 " What are those ? " asked Caonabo, his eye attracted 
 by their glitter. 
 
 " Ornaments," answered Ojeda carelessly. " Would 
 
60 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 
 
 you like to take them? We Spaniards wear them 
 only on grand occasions." 
 
 "Let me take them," said Caonabo. 
 
 "Mount this tine horse behind me," said Ojeda^ 
 " put on the ornaments on your wrists, and we will 
 ride into the presence of Columbus." 
 
 Caonabo mounted, the manacles were placed upon 
 his hands — the great chief was a prisoner. 
 
 Then with a rush, the cavaliers gathered around 
 him, bayonets were pointed, and away the com[)any 
 galloped, leaving the attendants staring in open- 
 mouthed wonder. 
 
 Bitterly did Caonabo deplore his captivity. One of 
 his brothers, raising an army, marched against the 
 Spaniards.' But Ojeda fell upon them with such fury, 
 the terril^le animals on which they rode snorted and 
 pranced so wildly, and the tierce blood-hounds did 
 such deadly havoc, the poor natives were soon put to 
 rout. 
 
 Meantime, Maroarite and his friends had succeeded 
 in stirring up suspicion against Columbus in Spain. 
 A commissioner was sent over the water to see if the 
 stories reported against him were true. 
 
 Columbus listened to the story of the commissioner 
 with dignity, and at once set out for Spain. 
 
 Reaching: there he was received with kindness bv 
 the sovereigns. Another fleet was promised him, and 
 
CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 
 
 61 
 
 all seemed at peace again. But Columbus had many 
 enemies at court, and these came more and more to 
 have influence with the king. He looked upon Colum- 
 Ims with suspicion. Isabella only remained firm in 
 her confidence in his honorable dealings. 
 
 Months passed, and Columlnis was still waiting. 
 The insolence that from time to time, he received from 
 his enemies drove him sometimes to distraction. Many 
 a time he resolved to go not one step farther in his 
 enterprise . 
 
 After two 3^ears of waiting, he at last set forth for a 
 third time. 
 
 Again he had a perilous voyage, and at its end 
 found the colonies in a far Avorse condition than ever 
 before. The Indians had, thanks to the cruelty of the 
 Spaniards, groAvn more and more hostile ; sickness 
 prevailed ; supplies had given out, and misery and 
 wretchedness everywhere abounded. 
 
62 
 
 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 
 
 COLUMBUS IN HAYTI AGAIN. 
 
 A low Spaniard, named Roldan, had formed a con- 
 spiracy against Columbus. With a hand of followers 
 in character like himself, he set forth on an expedition 
 robbing the natives, burning their homes, killing their 
 
CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 63 
 
 children — all for the mere amusement of it and for 
 the gratification of their low, cruel natures. 
 
 There was nothing Columbus seemed able to do to 
 stop them ; and when the crew from three of the ves- 
 sels he had brought over in this third voyage joined 
 them in a body, Columbus was indeed heart-sick. 
 
 And now came a man named Amerigo Vespucci. 
 Ojeda was with him, and together they proceeded to 
 attack the islands, capture the prisoners — all without 
 reference to Columbus, who still held, or supposed he 
 did, the governorship of all lands not yet discovered. 
 
 Columlnis was not a little disturbed l)y this, and 
 sent Roldan, with whom he had made a half-satisfac- 
 tory peace, to meet Ojeda. 
 
 These two cavaliers were well-matched, l)oth for 
 daring and for lack of principle. Ojeda met Roldan 
 boldly, showed papers from the king, proving that he 
 had permission thus to take possession, and ordered 
 Roldan to go back to Columbus with this report — 
 that he Avas fast losing favor in Spain, and that he 
 himself had been sent over for the express purpose of 
 bearing intelligence from the king Avhich might not be 
 pleasant for him to hear. 
 
 Columbus' command was really at an end. No one 
 obeyed him now. A conspiracy to assassinate him 
 was on foot, At last a new governor was sent over 
 by the two soverigns. He seized Columbus and threw 
 
64 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 
 
 him into prison. Like ii criminal he was paraded 
 through the streets, to be stoned and jeered at — and 
 all this degradation because of the treacherous stories 
 of men like Ojeda and Roldan ! 
 
 COLUMBUS IN CHAINS. 
 
 Chained, he was sent back to Spain. The captain 
 of the ship, indignant at such brutal treatment, would 
 have removed his chains. But Columbus said ''In the 
 letter sent over by my successor from the king and 
 queen, they bade me ol)ey the new governor, Boba- 
 dilla. By their authority he claims to have put me 
 in chains. Then I will wear the chains until they 
 themselves shall free me." 
 
 You will l)e glad to know that when the king and 
 queen heard of the action of Bol)adilla, they were 
 indignant, indeed. " We gave him no such authority,'* 
 said they ; "and he must at once be recalled." 
 
CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 65 
 
 When Isabella met Columbus, she burst into tears. 
 This touched the heart of the kind-hearted, well- 
 meaning Columbus as no reproof could have done, 
 and he fell on his knees before her, sobbing like a 
 child. 
 
 As soon as possible another governor was sent to 
 supercede Bobadilla ; but it was a discouraging task 
 to attempt to bring anything like harmony out of the 
 condition on the islands now, so thoroughly were the 
 natives aroused to vengeance. 
 
 COLUMBUS' LAST VOYAGE. 
 
 Once more Columbus set forth for the land of his 
 discovery. He was now an old man ; and though 
 broken in health, and exhausted by anxiety and care, 
 his active brain seemed tireless. 
 
 As Columbus sailed into the harbor, he met Bob- 
 adilla sailmg out. His ship was loaded with gold 
 which had been stolen from the unhappy natives, and 
 with this Bobadilla hoped to gain the favor of the 
 king. 
 
 It was a beautiful day, but Columbus with true 
 mariner's foresight, knew that a storm was brewing. 
 
66 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 
 
 Kindly he warned Bobadilla, but received froni him 
 only insults in return. Bobadilla sailed forth. Soon 
 the storm arose, and Bobadilla and all his crew were 
 sw^allowed up in the raging billows. 
 
 Again Columbus saw the same picture of woe and 
 misery on the islands, the same scenes of l)rutality 
 and cruelty among the Spaniards. His heart sank 
 within him. Shipwreck drove him upon a hostile 
 island. Sick and half starved, he called one of the 
 natives to him and said, "Our God is angry with you 
 that you do not In'ing us food. He will to-night hide 
 his face from you. That will be your warning. Then 
 if you do not help us, some terrible curse will be sent 
 upon you." 
 
 The Indians listened in amazement. Some laughed, 
 others were frightened. 
 
 But sure enough, when the moon was up high in 
 the heavens, its light began to wane. Darker and 
 darker it grew. The Indians fell prostrate upon the 
 ofround, begfo^ino^ Columbus to intercede for them with 
 the angry God. 
 
 Columbus pretended to hesitate, saying that he 
 doubted if God would forgive such awful sins as these. 
 The Indians grew more and more frightened. Pro- 
 visions were brought from every dwelling, and laid at 
 Columbus' feet. Then the moon began to come out 
 again ; and the panic stricken Indians returned to 
 
CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 67 
 
 their dwellings, promising never to hold hack help 
 from the " sky people " again . 
 
 The new governor all this time would not allow 
 Columhus to enter the port, and the old man found 
 himself little l)etter off, and no more held in respect 
 than when under Bobadilla. 
 
 So time passed on. The new governor governed 
 all. And even when, by and ]\v, Columlnis was 
 allowed to enter port, he was everywhere treated with 
 insult and indignity. 
 
 At last he returned to Spain. He went at once to 
 Seville. Wretchedness followed him there. In utter 
 poverty, he appealed to Isabella. But she lay dying, 
 crushed with the griefs and disappointments of her 
 own sad life. Seeing her friends gathered about her, 
 she said, "Do not weep for me, nor waste your time 
 in prayers for my recovery. I do not wish to live." 
 
 The death of Isabella was a great blow to Columbus. 
 No one now remained in whom he could trust. Faith- 
 fully he told to the cold-hearted Ferdinand the story 
 of his last voyage, but not one word of encouragement 
 had the king for his faithful servant. 
 
 A few months longer, spent in the deepest physical 
 agony and the most bitter poverty, and Columbus 
 died. Knowing that death was near at hand he said, 
 " I welcome thee, O, death! You free me from the 
 wretchedness of life. And into thy hands, O, Lord, 
 do I commend my spirit." 
 
C^f^ CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 
 
 His remains now rest in the cathedral at Havana ; 
 and the world is just now beginning to appreciate how 
 crood a man for his times he was, and is willing at 
 last to render him the homage that seems so justly his 
 due. 
 
Ferdinand De Soto, 
 
 "Such a quaint, simple little village!" That is 
 what travelers say of the little village of Xeres in 
 Spain. And indeed it is quaint and simple. It is 
 one of those quiet, nestling little villages, lying at a 
 long distance from any railroad routes. A village 
 that, unmolested by new people ;ind new fashions, has 
 eone on and on year after vear, chaniiino* in no way 
 except to grow older and grayer, and quieter. In- 
 deed, after the bustling life and flurr}' of European 
 cities, it is like slipping back into the quiet of the 
 past century to come upon this little village. 
 
 On the outskirts are several gloomy weather-beaten 
 
 69 
 
70 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 
 
 old castles, and it was in one of these that, as a child, 
 Ferdinand de Soto lived. He belonged to a noble 
 Spanish family ; but in the little Ferdinand's day, the 
 family were so reduced in wealth that, notwithstand- 
 ina- their nolde blood, they were reduced to the most 
 plebian poverty, and were often at a loss to know 
 even from what source the next breakfast w^ould come. 
 Still, because of their "rank," and the foolish ideas of 
 the time, regarding labor, this family could not for a 
 moment think of such a thing as honestly joining the 
 working classes, or allowing their son to " learn a 
 trade ;" or to take i)art in any of the lines of life 
 which, though not aristocratic, would have served 
 very well to give the family more comfort than their 
 "rank" seemed a})le to give. 
 
 And so the little Ferdinand, too poor to associate 
 with his own class, and far too noble ( ?) to associate 
 with the village boys, s])ent his boyhood days in idle- 
 ness and seclusion. 
 
 He Avas a very handsome boy, tall and straight, and 
 remarkably strong and quick in action. 
 
 When a young lad, his beauty and fine figure at- 
 tracted the attention of a wealthy Spanish nobleman 
 who sent him to a University to be educated. He 
 remained at the University for six years, learning, not 
 what, to-day, l)oys and girls learn in a University, but 
 the things which in those days it was considered so 
 
FERDINAND DE SOTO. 71 
 
 important and grand to know and excel in — fencing, 
 shooting, wrestling. 
 
 In these arts, the beautiful youth gained high 
 honors. In the tournaments, then the fashion, Ferdi- 
 nand de Soto was altogether the fashion. Old men 
 beamed approvingly upon him ; ladies smiled upon 
 him and poured out their admiration in enthusiastic 
 praise : and little boys listening to his wonderful feats 
 were tired with ambition to be like him. 
 
 DE SOTO ANGERS DON PEDRO. 
 
 Don Pedro de Avila was ])roud indeed of the lad, 
 and took no small credit to himself that he had been 
 so wise and far-sighted as to have deemed it w^orth 
 while to lift this boy from his low position and edu- 
 cate him. He received him into his own family and 
 treated him as though he were his own child. 
 
 ' De Soto, however, had the ill taste — so Don Pedro 
 thought — to forget his humble origin; to forget his 
 dependence on the bounty of his foster-flither, and to 
 presume to fall in love with Don Pedro's beautiful 
 daughter Isabella. 
 
 " You — you — dare ask for my daughter's hand ! " 
 
72 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 
 
 thunciered Don Pedro, when De Soto told his story of 
 love for the daughter. " You — penniless — dependent 
 on Isabella's father for your very bread ! You dare 
 aspire to my daughter's hand I Away ! " 
 
 De Soto's pride was keenly wounded. 
 
 "I, too, am a man of noble birth I'' replied he, his 
 dark eyes Hashing, ''I am a knight of goodly fame. 
 My family equals the family of beautiful Isabella, sir, 
 in all except wealth. I dare^ because of noble birth 
 and honestly acquired fame, aspire to your daughter's 
 hand." 
 
 "Audacious! insolent!" hissed the angry father. 
 "Away ! away ! Leave my castle ! Look upon my 
 daughter, exchange one word with her, and" — 
 clutching at his dagger — ''you pay for it with your 
 life." 
 
 Frantic with rage, Don Pedro summoned his daugh- 
 ter before him ; pouring out u[)on her such a volley of 
 abuse and threat as would have congealed the very 
 blood and stood on end the very hair, as the novel- 
 writers put it, of a less wilful girl. But Isabella, it 
 seems, was her father's " own child." And the louder 
 he thundered, the angrier he grew, the more ho 
 tore his hair, the bigger and fiercer grew his threats, 
 the more cool and determined Isabella grew. "I 
 have chosen Ferdinand de Soto for my husband," said 
 she, in a tone that herfiither had long since learned to 
 
FERDINAND DE SOTO. 73 
 
 dread. "Storm and tlireaten, tret and rave as you 
 will, but in all remember this : Isabella is not turned 
 from her choice. Either she marries De Soto or she 
 retires to the Convent, where at least she may pass 
 her days in peace and quiet." With these tragic 
 words, the haughty lady swept from the room leaving 
 the enraged father pacing back and forth, back and 
 forth, like an animal at bay. 
 
 The weeks passed on. De Soto still proudly held 
 to his right to sue for Isabella's hand ; Isabella held 
 firmly and defiantly to her determination ; the father 
 still fretted and fumed. 
 
 DON PEDRO TAKES DE SOTO TO AMERICA. 
 
 It was under these romantic conditions that De 
 Soto set forth to the new world, joining the great 
 band of adventurers and gold-seekers. 
 
 Don Pedro himself had been for five years in the 
 colony of Darien and was now fitting out a second 
 expedition. 
 
 "1 will take this troublesome youth with me to 
 Darien," said the savage Don Pedro. He shall be 
 sent upon the most dangerous expeditions, into the 
 
74 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 
 
 fiercest battle — he shall be killed — murdered — shot 
 down like a dog. I'll teach him — miserable, penni- 
 less beggar — to sue for the hand of a daughter of Don 
 Pedro de Avila." 
 
 So feignmg a partial reconciliation — just to avoid 
 suspicion — Don Pedro offered to take De Soto with 
 him, promising him opportunities for making in this 
 new world a name for himself, and above all acquiring 
 riches. "Having done all this," insinuated Don 
 Pedro, "there might be some hopes of your gaining 
 my consent to seek an alliance with my family." 
 
 De Soto, young and trusting, knowing little of 
 baseness and the cruelty of the world, gladly and 
 hopefully accepted this opportunity, and with a light 
 heart set forth to seek his fortune. 
 
 It was at just the time when the names of Cortez 
 and Pizarro were on every tongue ; and all Europe 
 seemed wild Avith excitement, and ambition for wealth 
 and fame. The New World with its strange people 
 and its wonderful mines of gold was the dream of the 
 hour ; and so to the young De Soto it seemed the 
 grandest possible thing that Don Pedro should offer 
 him this opportunity to build up for himself fame and 
 wealth. 
 
 Isabella, however, knowing ])etter than De Soto 
 did, the cruel character of her father, was not deceived. 
 "Be watchful," said she to De Soto, as they met for 
 
FERDINAND DE SOTO. 75 
 
 the last time before parting ; " remember that one 
 treacherous friend is to be feared above a thousand 
 enemies." 
 
 THE SPANISH COLONY. 
 
 No account of the voyage is found in history ; but 
 we hear that the Heet arrived in safety ; and armed in 
 their heavy coats of mail, mounted on powerful war- 
 horses ; armed with muskets and cannon ; a pack of 
 cruel blood-hounds at their command, the Spaniards 
 prepared to swoop down upon the helpless natives. 
 
 Don Pedro himself was a perfect monster of cruelty. 
 Putting De Soto in command of a troop of horses he 
 sent him on expedition after expedition into the very 
 heart of the unknown forests, into the very midst of 
 danger. 
 
 We are glad to remember that in these days De 
 Soto's name is never found in the stories of Don 
 Pedro's brutal acts. We are glad to read that De 
 Soto was a youth of good heart and honorable intents. 
 Often in these days, so historians tell us, he even 
 dared disobey the commands of his governor rather 
 than carry out his cruel requirements. 
 
 "We are all here for conquest and for gold," he 
 would say ; "but we need not be brutal." 
 
76 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 
 
 DE SOTO FIGHTS A DUEL. 
 
 In a pretty little valley nestling among the hills, 
 lay a quiet, peaceful Indian village. The natives had 
 in their dealings with the white men, been always kind 
 and cordial, always generous with food and aid. 
 
 "Never mind all that," bellowed the coarse-souled 
 Don Pedro. "These villagers, I suspect, have gold 
 within their houses ; and gold is what we are here to 
 get ; and gold we are to get at any cost. I command 
 that De Soto go at once, fire the village, put the 
 women and children to the sword, and bring to me 
 that gold." 
 
 A more revolting order than this could hardly have 
 been put upon De Soto. 
 
 "Go at once," ordered Don Pedro. "Go to De 
 Soto, give him my order ; and if he rebels, see that he 
 is whipped — ivhipped^ I say, into obedience." 
 
 Captain Perez, a man after Don Pedro's own heaii;, 
 delivered the governor's message. 
 
 Indignant that such an order should be put upon 
 him, De Soto, his heart bursting with honest rage, 
 returned these words : " Tell Don Pedro my life and 
 my services are always at his command when the duty 
 to be done is not brutal. In this case, Captain Perez, 
 I think the governor would have showed finer insight 
 
FERDINAND DE SOTO. 77 
 
 had he ordered you to do this deed of butchery 
 rather than me." 
 
 Captain Perez was raging. "Think you," stormed 
 he, as he carried the message to Don Pedro, "that I 
 will take such insult from that lad — that mere boy?" 
 
 Don Pedro was delighted. "Certainly not," an- 
 swered he. "No brave cavalier like you would for 
 an instant be expected to pass over such an insult." 
 
 "I shall challenge him to a duel, and I, who have 
 the name of being the most expert swordsman in the 
 colony, I, who am a veteran soldier, I, who have in 
 many a duel before killed my man, will now show you 
 that Captain Perez has not yet grown so old and 
 weak ; has not so far lost his courage and skill that he 
 bows before a penniless beggar lad." 
 
 At once the challenge w^as given. De Soto and 
 Perez met with drawn swords in the presence of all 
 the officers and a great gathering of the colonists. 
 
 "De Soto's doom is sealed," said they. "He might 
 as well surrender now at once. There is no hope 
 with such a foe as Perez." 
 
 For two long hours the two parried blows with 
 little effect. De Soto had received a few trifling 
 wounds ; but such skill did he show, that his opponent, 
 wholly unprepared for such a display, was surprised 
 and baffled. The officers began to applaud De Soto ; 
 the herd of lookers-on cheered him at every stroke. 
 
78 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 
 
 Perez g-rew ano^ry ; and as usual when anerer orets 
 the upper hand, judgment was lost. He lost control ; 
 made a foolish thrust, and himself received a deep 
 wound in the wrist. 
 
 His sword dropped and De Soto springing upon 
 him threw him to the ground. 
 
 How the people cheered ! " Your life — ask you for 
 your life?" coolly demanded De Soto, holding the 
 sword over the fallen foe. 
 
 " Never !" growled Perez — "never will I beg my 
 life of such as you ! " 
 
 De Soto waited. But the proud duellist, for the 
 first time in his life defeated, lay angry and sullen. 
 
 "Very well," replied De Soto, returning his sword 
 to its scabbard ; " the life that is not worth asking for 
 is not worth taking." Then bowing right and left to 
 the people gathered about, he quietly withdrew from 
 the field, the hero of the hour. 
 
 As to Perez, so angry and humiliated was he, that 
 he threw up his commission and gladly returned to 
 Spain ; and so the new world was well rid of one of 
 the crudest of all the cruel Spaniard adventurers. 
 
FERDINAND DE SOTO. 79 
 
 URACCA, THE INDIAN CHIEF. 
 
 In the northern part of this Isthmus of Durien lived 
 an Indian chief, Uracca. He was a warrior of unusual 
 intelligence ; and aroused ])y the l)rutal deeds of the 
 Spaniards, understanding the danger ahead for his 
 people unless the Spaniards could be driven out, he 
 raised a large army and swooped down upon them. 
 
 So quickly and quietly did he work, that the Span- 
 iards knew nothing of his plans until his army stood 
 close at hand. 
 
 Armed as the Spaniards were, and though strongly 
 protected, still a shower of poisoned arrows from 
 twenty thousand angry warriors was not a pleasant 
 thing to anticipate. 
 
 " It is we ourselves that have taught these natives 
 cruelty," said De Soto ; " we have hunted them down 
 with blood-hounds ; we have cut off their hands with 
 our swords ; we have fed their children to our 
 dogs ; we have tortured them at slow fires, and cast 
 their wives and children into the flames. Can we 
 expect them now to be more merciful than we have 
 been?" 
 
 " We must not allow these savages to fall upon us ! " 
 ordered Don Pedro. " We must advance — meet 
 them — surprise them — throw them into confusion ! " 
 
80 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 
 
 So, dividing his army into two parties, he advanced. 
 At the same time he sent a division to attack the vil- 
 higes of Uracca's countiy, hoping thus to call the 
 chief's attention off and oblige him to break up his 
 forces to defend his villages. 
 
 The two vessels containing the soldiers who were 
 to attack the villages were soon seen and reported to 
 Uracca by his keen-sighted scouts. 
 
 But Uracca had learned the ways of the Spanish 
 military, and at once understood this movement. 
 
 " Let them land — let them advance ! " said he 
 coolly. Then stationing his troops, several thousand 
 in number, about on the hills, he quietly awaited 
 the advancing army of the Spaniards. How 
 gayly their plumes nodded in the breeze ! how their 
 armor glittered and sparkled ! how the peals of the 
 trumpets echoed through the valleys ! 
 
 Once all this would have struck terror to the Indian 
 heart. But Uracca had grown to hate rather than 
 fear the white foe. 
 
 On marched the proud Spanish army, Espinosa at 
 their head. Accustomed as he had been to ride rough- 
 shod over the terror-stricken Indians, he was hardly 
 conscious of the foe. But whiz ! whiz ! whiz ! came a 
 shower of arrows. Whiz! whiz! whiz! and another 
 followed. The air w^as black with them ! they came 
 from all directions ! Down poured the Indians, 
 
FERDINAND DE SOTO. 81 
 
 twenty to one Spaniard, from every hill, from behind 
 every rock and tree. 
 
 Shrieking in agony from the deadly poison of the 
 Indian arrow, the Spaniards fell dying on every side. 
 "To the ships! to the ships!" cried Espinosa ; and 
 away they fled, helter-skelter. The rout of the 'Span- 
 iards was perfect. Panic-stricken they ran for their 
 lives. The Indians pursued. 
 
 De Soto with a band of horsemen was not far away. 
 The noise of battle reached his ears — the shouts of 
 the Indian warriors and the cries of the flying Span- 
 iards. 
 
 Putting spurs to their horses the horsemen hurried 
 forward over hills and rocks, across ravines, down 
 precipices they rushed — rushing at last across the 
 open country. 
 
 The Indians, horror-stricken at this unexpected ar- 
 rival of the much dreaded horsemen, stood aghast I 
 They halted in their pursuit. Espinosa, catching sight 
 of De Soto's troops, took heart and turned upon the 
 foe from whom an instant before he had been flying 
 for life. 
 
 De Soto's cavalry taking the position of rear guard, 
 the Indians cautiously followed, hurling, now and then, 
 an arrow, but keeping always at a safe distance. 
 
 Thus the retreat to the ships was safely conducted, 
 and the Spaniards were for this time saved. 
 
82 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 
 
 The sun was sinking behind the hills. Night was 
 coming on. Indian bands were drawing together 
 from all directions. The Spaniards were weighed 
 down with anxiety and fear. Pizarro with two-hun- 
 dred men joined De Soto's little band. 
 
 As darkness settled down the hideous clamor of the 
 natives was hushed ; but well did the Spaniards know 
 that morning would bring with it another battle scene. 
 
 All night long Pizarro and Espinosa held council of 
 war. 
 
 " There is little hopes of getting out of the reach of 
 these natives alive," said one, '' if we meet them in 
 battle on the morrow." 
 
 " We certainly have no hope of defeating them," 
 answered the other. 
 
 And so these two brave generals made an inglorious 
 plan to steal away under the protection of the dark- 
 ness, leaving the field to Uracca. 
 
 "Shame upon such cowardice I " thundered De Soto. 
 '' Not only is such a thought a disgrace to the Spanish 
 arms, but think what an advantage such a moment 
 WT)uld give the natives over us ! Spaniards in armor, 
 with guns, with horse > sneaking away in the night! 
 Away with such cowardice ! Let us up and to battle ! 
 Die if need be, but die like soldiers I " 
 
 But De Soto was only answered with a sneer. 
 
 "Veteran captains like Espinosa and Pizarro, hardly 
 
FERDIN'AND DE SOTO. 83 
 
 need the advice of hot-brained youth," said they 
 angrily. 
 
 And so at midnight, as silently and secretly as pos- 
 sible the Spaniards commenced their retreat. 
 
 But to their surprise they found Uracca and his 
 allies not so sound asleep as they had thought. Ur- 
 acca, too, had scouts stationed here, there and every- 
 where, wide awake, and on the alert to report every 
 movement of the Spaniards. 
 
 Hardly had they started forth before they were set 
 upon by the Indians. Flight was then the only thing 
 possible. Regardless of order or command, each Span- 
 iard "took to his heels," as the saying is, and ran, ran, 
 ran. 
 
 Whooping and hissing, the Indians, fleet-footed and 
 urged on by vengeance, pursued. For forty-eight hours 
 the Indians kept closely at their heels, hurling their 
 poisoned arrows, and now and then falling upon and 
 killing those who from exhaustion sank by the way. 
 
 De Soto's men, clad in their heavy armor were safe 
 from the arrows and escaped unharmed. 
 
 Only fifty of the men of Pizarro and Espinosa sur- 
 vived. These few reaching the ships, put out to sea 
 and sailed quickly away. 
 
 Sullen and angry at their disastrous and disgraceful 
 campaign, they fell upon a little village several leagues 
 down the shore — a defenceless little village of women 
 
84 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 
 
 and children, for the warriors were with Uracca, — 
 sacked the houses, destroyed the crops, and captured 
 all the Avomen and children for the slave market. 
 
 The generous spirit of De Soto was aroused. 
 "Shame upon you, to attack defenceless Avomen and 
 children ! Was it not cowardly enough to creep away 
 in retreat l)efore a band of naked, unarmed natives, 
 that you should add this dastardly deed to your re- 
 cord?" 
 
 "I brook no insult from a boy like you. Another 
 word and I report you to the Governor for mutiny," 
 bellowed Espinosa, making up in noise and bluster 
 what he lacked in genuine bravery and honor. 
 
 De Soto turned upon his heel in disgust. Ordering 
 his troops to mount their horses, and riding proudly 
 at their head he approached the tent of Espinosa. 
 
 " Senor Espinosa," said he, "the Governor placed 
 me not under your command. You have no claim 
 upon my obedience. I now declare that if you keep 
 these prisoners you have so unjustly captured, you do 
 it at your own risk. It will not ])e many hours l)e- 
 fore the Avarriors of this village Avill be upon us to 
 claim their wives and children. I declare on my 
 solemn oath, and by all I hold sacred, that when they 
 come they shall meet with no foe in my troops. 
 Decide for yourself Avhether Avithout my troops you 
 are able to meet these justly-enraged Avarriors." 
 
FERDINAND DE SOTO. 85 
 
 Espinosa fotimed with rage. In the midst of this, 
 the iiatiA'es began to pour into the village demanding 
 the surrender of the captives. De Soto's troop quietly 
 withdrew. What could Espinosa with his handful of 
 tired-out soldiers hope to do in the face of these hun- 
 dreds of war-painted warriors I 
 
 Ungraciously enough Espinosa gave up his captives, 
 everyone. 
 
 Then De Soto and one other dragoon set out with 
 all possible speed for the headquarters of the Gover- 
 nor, Don Pedro. Informing the Governor of all that 
 had happened, another general was sent to take Espin- 
 osa's command, and with him forty men, all that could 
 at that time he spared from the garrison. 
 
 Meantime Uracca, having learned the wretched con- 
 dition of Espinosa's men, had very ingeniously cut off 
 all retreat by j^osting bands of Indians at every point. 
 So alert were these little bands that Espinosa dared 
 not venture a league from his stronghold, even for 
 food. 
 
 Half-starved, sick and dying they anxiously awaited 
 the return of De Soto. At last he came — with only 
 forty men I Affairs looked dubious indeed. 
 
 Meantime a force of four hundred adventurers from 
 Spain arrived at Don Pedro's colony. 
 
 NcA^er was help more opportune, never so welcome ! 
 
 Of these, fully one-half were trained soldiers, and 
 
S^ FERDINAND DE SOTO. 
 
 the rest fully made up in cruel zeal and eagerness for 
 adventure and plunder what they lacked in skill. 
 
 With this hard, lawless band, so worthy of their 
 leader, Don Pedro himself set out to the villao^e 
 recently burned by Espinosa's troops. On reaching 
 the village he made a most bombastic speech to his 
 men, reminding them of the glory of the Spanish 
 name, and stimulating in them their, already strong 
 love of gold. 
 
 On the bank of the river Arva, Uracca had collected 
 his forces, and had spread them along through the moun- 
 tain passes to cut off the approach of the Spaniards. 
 
 With five hundred men, a force gotten together 
 only with the greatest difficulty, Don Pedro advanced. 
 
 Down showered the javelins and arrows from Urac- 
 ca's warriors The natives stood nobly on the defence. 
 Back, back retreated the Spaniards. The cavalry, 
 tangled and blocked among the trees* and rocks, 
 behind every one of which were natives ready with 
 arrows w\as put to flight. The soldiers followed. 
 Hotly pursued, the Spaniards fled before their angry 
 foe. Night came on, and the Spaniards gladly 
 encamped upon the open plain where the Indians had 
 driven them. They, flushed with success, hastened 
 back to report the good tidings to Uracca. 
 
 And noAv Uracca adopted a stratagem that com- 
 pletely deceived the Spaniards. 
 
FERDINAND DE SOTO. 87 
 
 He allowed several of hi.s warriors to l)e taken 
 prisoners ; then when Don Pedro, with threats of tor- 
 ture, demanded that they lead the Spaniards to some 
 place where gold could be found, the captives pretend- 
 ing great reluctance, and letting fall now and then a 
 word that should excite the curiosity and hope of the 
 Spaniards, led their captors to a place a few leagues 
 distant where the precious metal could be obtained in 
 abundance. 
 
 Don Pedro, his wisdom clouded by his cupidity, fell 
 easily into the trap. Selecting forty of his best men, 
 he sent them with the caj)tives to the place in which 
 the gold was to be found. 
 
 Like a tornado Uracca's warriors, every w^here hidden 
 among the rocks and bushes, swooped upon the gold 
 seekers, putting all but three to death. These, white 
 and breathless with fear, reached the Spanish camp 
 Avith tidings of the disaster. 
 
 Don Pedro, the more angry that he himself had 
 been thus decoyed, dragged forth the remaining cap- 
 tives, put them to every conceivable torture and threw 
 them to the l)lo()d-hounds. Yelling and dancing like a 
 fiend, he watched the poor natives as the dogs with 
 their l)lo()dy fangs tore them liml) from liml), devour- 
 ing their quivering flesh. The natives bore their ter- 
 rible punishment with a fortitude and heroism that 
 even the Spaniards could not ])ut admire. 
 
88 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 
 
 "Are Uracca's warriors all like these?" said Don 
 Pedro, savagely, as he watched their sufterino-. 
 
 Don Pedro's expedition thus tar had proved a most 
 humiliating defeat. A full fourth of his forces had 
 been lost and the future looked black indeed. 
 
 There seemed nothing to do l)ut to retreat. Uracca's 
 forces were ten times greater in numl^er than the 
 Spanish ; they knew the country ; and alcove all had 
 at their head a chief of unusual wisdom and under- 
 standing in methods of warfare. Not once did he 
 allow an engagement to take place upon the open field, 
 where without doubt the Spaniards could easily, with 
 their nmsketry and grape shot, have cut down the long 
 lines of Indians. 
 
 The Spaniards were now panic-stricken ; and long 
 after Uracca, seeing that the Spaniards were really 
 retreating from his territory, gave up the pursuit, they 
 lived in constant fear. The boughs of the trees, the 
 very grass seemed to them alive with Indian warriors ; 
 and if ever they turned their eyes to the seas, there 
 too, they saw the waves covered with the canoes of 
 their angry foe. 
 
 The comparison l)etween Uracca, the heathen chief, 
 and Don Pedro, the pretended Christian, is in every 
 respect creditable to Uracca. He fought only in 
 defence of his own country, and dropped all persecu- 
 tion as soon as the Spaniards really left his realms. 
 
FERDINAND DE SOTO. 89 
 
 He engaged in no aggressive movements whatever. 
 The barbarism of the Spaniards even did not provoke 
 him to retaliation. Although the Spaniards so merci- 
 lessly put to the sword or sold into slavery the wives 
 of the natives, Uracca, when at one time a Spanish 
 lady fell into his hands as prisoner, treated her with 
 as much delicacy and tenderness as he would have 
 shown his own daughter, and took her back, at the 
 very first opportunity, to the Spanish camp. 
 
 DE SOTO JOINS PIZARRO. 
 
 Don Pedro's hatred of De Soto had in all this time 
 been increasing. There is nothing so exasperates a 
 bad man as the presence of a good man. De Soto had 
 been of the greatest value in the war with Uracca, had 
 been always brave, daring, and willing to put himself 
 in the thickest of the light. The soldiers loved and 
 respected him, knowing how true and brave he was, 
 and how much they owed him. Don Pedro, however, 
 would gladly have put De Soto to death had he dared ; 
 often he planned his death ])ut as often in one way or 
 another De Soto escaped. 
 
90 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 
 
 Thus live years passed on — weary years they were 
 to De Soto whose nature found no enjoyment in this 
 cruel plunderinir ; this shuightering of the natives ; this 
 trani})ling down of vilhiges, firing of houses, and mas- 
 sacring of women and little children. 
 
 Don Pedro grew every day more clearly an enemy 
 to be watched and dreaded. Xo word in all these 
 years had come from the beautiful Isabella, no gold 
 had been found, no fame acquired, and on the whole 
 De Soto felt that such a life in such a i)lace and among 
 such peo})le was hardly Avorth the living. 
 
 AVhen, therefore, Pizarro, who had meantime gone to 
 Peru, and was now in starvation, sickness and danger 
 miserably reaping the just harvest of his cruel treat- 
 ment of the natives there, sent to Don Pedro for aid, 
 De Soto recklessly consented to set out with a fleet to 
 join Pizarro in his conquest of that country. 
 
 " Murdering here or murdering there — what matters 
 it ? " said De Soto, wearily. " There is no honor in such 
 wars as these.'' 
 
 And Don Pedro, who held Pizarro's undertaking as 
 a most hopeless, a])surd scheme, sure to be ill-fated, 
 looked now upon it as the happiest possible invention 
 of an insane adventurer's brain if only it served to put 
 an end to De Soto's life. 
 
 "Go," said Don Pedro, in an underbreath ; "go, 
 and Heaven grant you never live to return." 
 
FERDINAND DE SOTO. 91 
 
 THE DEATH OF THE PERUVIAN INCA. 
 
 You remem])er in the story of Pizarro in Peru, that 
 at one time, while the Inca was held prisoner, Pizarro 
 promised him his liberty in exchanofe for a certain 
 amount of treasure. 
 
 You remember that the delighted Inca, honest- 
 hearted himself and supposino' Pizarro to be at least 
 equally so, since he claimed to belong to so much 
 nobler a race of men, sent his couriers east and west, 
 north and south to announce their ruler's possible free- 
 dom. You remember how generousl}^ how freely the 
 loving subjects poured their richest treasures at Pizar- 
 ro's feet, forgetting all their sufferings, forgiving all 
 their cruel wrongs in the one great joy of seeing their 
 Inca free again. 
 
 And then, you renieml)er, when the city was tilled 
 to overHowing with the unstinted gifts of the people, 
 when gold enough lay spread before the Spaniards to 
 send them every one back to Spain richer than the 
 richest of Spanish lords, — then Pizarro, unprincipled, 
 selfish man that he was, refused to liberate his prisoner, 
 sneered at the ambassadors who plead for him, scorned 
 the threats and just demands of the people, and piti- 
 lessly ordered the Inca back to his prison. 
 
 Of all the mean acts of Pizarro this stands out in his 
 
92 FERDIXAXD DE SOTO. 
 
 histiu'v as the meanest ot' theiu all. ^^'lu)lly unealled 
 for, deliberately }ilanned. oppc^sed to all the laws of 
 liDnorahle wartaiv, this one aet o\' Pizano's tells 
 against him no matter how brave, how daring, how 
 siueessful his career may otherwise have been. 
 
 It is possible, perhaps it is true, that Pizarro did 
 mean in the outset to free the Inea honorably : but 
 now, the tretisure all brought tmd carefully stored 
 away he suddenly came to the conclusion that it would 
 be a fatal thing to free the Inca now. '' AVhy," said he, 
 ''this Inca free — loved and worshipped as he is, by his 
 people, would raise an army that would grind our lit- 
 tle force to }iowder ! ** 
 
 "True enough," answered De Soto, fearlessly : "but 
 you >lundd have thought of that before you pledged 
 your honor." 
 
 " At least we can delay the peril a few weeks ! " 
 
 '* Not one day ! This Inca has your promise and he 
 has mine that he shall l>e free ! " 
 
 "But since making the promise, I have learned of 
 plots and conspiracies in which this Inca is already 
 eno-ao-ed. Think what that argues for the future when 
 he is released ! " 
 
 " I do not believe it," answered De Soto. " That 
 may l)e the Spaniard nature : it is not the Peruvian." 
 
 Pizarro drew his sword, his face hot with anger. 
 De Soto drew his sword, ///.> face quiet with scorn. 
 
FERDINAND DE SOTO. 93 
 
 An an<rry controversy followed. Neither would 
 yield. At la.st Pizarro, determined that at any cost 
 the Inca should die, said, "You do not believe nie, I 
 can prove to you that what I :^ay i^ true. At this 
 moment in a certain mountain pass, the Peruvians 
 are irathering for an attack u}Kjn us here. Go, you 
 with your dra;ioons, to the jjlace ; and if you tind 
 there no signs of war, no .-i2"ns of conspiracy, I jjrom- 
 ise 3'^ou on your return that the Inca shall be released. ' 
 
 "I go," said De Soto quietly. 
 
 Once more Pizarro's perfidy had conquered : for no 
 sooner had the clattering of De Soto's horses died away 
 in the distance than preparations were made for the 
 burning of the Inca. 
 
 A stake was set, the fagots piled up, a mock trial 
 arranged at which the Inca was " found guilty.'' Then 
 w^aiting only for the sun to go down that darkness 
 might throw its covering over this cruel unjust deed, 
 the Inca was led forth, fastened to the stake and 
 burned. 
 
 This was the evening of August 29, 1533. Two 
 hours after sunset, to the sound of the trumpet, sur- 
 rounded by the Spanish soldiers with their lurid 
 torches, the Inca, manacled hand and foot, pushed him- 
 self across the great stone square to the heap of fagots. 
 
 When De Soto returned and heard what had been 
 done ; when he saw that his errand to the mountains 
 
94 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 
 
 had been but an artitice to get him away, he was 
 beside himself with rage. 
 
 Pushing aside the sentinel, he strode into the tent 
 ofPizaiTo. ''You villain," he burst forth, ''is it not 
 enough that I am disgraced in being ever associated 
 with }'ou in such a barbarous affair as this conquest of 
 Peru ? Is it not enough that you have time and time 
 again disgraced me ])efore the officers? Is it not 
 enough that you have defrauded me at every turn of 
 wealth and fame? And do you now, knowing that I 
 with you had pledged my honor that the Inca should 
 be protected from any cruelty, dare do this thing that 
 involves my honor as well iis your own? AVell do 
 you know that this murder — for it is nothing more 
 honorable than murder — is a cruel and base a deed as 
 ever you stained your honor with ! Well do you 
 know that your report of insurrection along the road 
 was a lie. No where have I met anything l)ut honest 
 welcome and hearty good-will. The whole country is 
 quiet, and yoii know full well that this Inca has been 
 foully, basely slandered. And you, Francisco Pizarro, 
 ar^ both his slanderer and his murderer. Villain that 
 you have proved yourself, it shall be proved that I, 
 Ferdinand De Soto, am not associated with you in 
 this brutal, contemptible defiance of all law — human 
 anil divine. I challenge you to honorable combat ; 
 and if you refuse, I swear I will denounce you to the 
 
FERDINAND DE SOTO. 95 
 
 King- of Spain as the coward and assasin that you 
 are ! " 
 
 Knowing what we do of Pizarro's character, we are 
 not surprised that he trembled before the just violence 
 of his daring officer. Coward-like he began to make 
 excuses — to say this one, that one, and the other one 
 influenced him and urged him on ; that he had only 
 done what seemed to him best, although perhaps he 
 had acted hastily. 
 
 De Soto, more disgusted, if possible Avith these 
 cringing apologies and mean excuses than he had been 
 with the murder of the Inca, threw up his commission 
 as lieutenant and declared his intention of leaving for 
 Spain. But just now reinforcements had arrived from 
 Panama. All Peru, aroused by the murder of its 
 king, was up and in arms. From every quarter the 
 loyal natives were hastening forward to avenge their 
 wrongs. Fifty thousand Peruvians ! the mountain 
 passes, the plains, the long roads, seemed swarming 
 with them ! AVhat could a few Spaniards avail against 
 such a foe as this ! Truly to return to Spain in such 
 an hour of peril seemed to De Soro a cowardly thing 
 to do. " I owe it," reasoned he, " to my king and to 
 my country that I stand here, until this peril is passed." 
 
 Pizairo, glad enough to keep him, knowing full well 
 his need of all the help at hand, arranged with De Soto 
 for the comino^ struoo^le. 
 
96 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 
 
 In the beautiful month of September, down through 
 the rich valley of the Cordilleras the Spanish army 
 marched, burning, ravaging, murdering ; their course 
 for miles and miles marked by death and desolation. 
 
 Much as there was that was noble inDe Soto, much 
 as we find in him to admire, we cannot defend our hero 
 in the part he took in this cruel march against these 
 innocent people. No one, if history tells us true, was 
 more defiant, more cruel, more desperate than De 
 Soto. He it was who always led the advance ; his 
 sword it was that opened every path through which 
 the plundering, murdering Spaniards followed. 
 
 The staiKlard of right and wrong was not very high 
 in these days, I fear, even among the best of men, and 
 duty to king and country was supposed to far outstrip 
 duty to one's fellow-creatures. Thus De Soto reasoned. 
 The Conquest of Peru ! — a tribute to the king ! — 
 added glory to Spain ! — these were the watch-words 
 of the hour. 
 
 DE SOTO RETURNS TO SPAIN. 
 
 Peru at last was conquered. Although Pizarro's 
 name shows out as the leader in every enterprise, still 
 there were many who held that the cool-headed, fear- 
 less De Soto was, the real conqueror. 
 
FERDINAND DE SOTO. 97 
 
 At any rate, on his return to Spain in 1534, he was 
 received with the grandest honors his country could 
 offer him. These, whether he deserved them or not, 
 he did not refuse to accept ; and, with his immense 
 fortune acquired in Peru, took his place among the 
 proudest grandees of Spain. 
 
 Meantime the beautiful Isabella's father had died. 
 True to his nature, his last thought was of bitterness 
 and hate tow ards these loyal children of his whose love 
 for each other had begun when, as little children they 
 had played among the flowers about the old gray castle. 
 
 "I only regret," said he, dying, "that I cannot 
 reach them from the grave '; that I cannot keep them 
 ocean-wide-apart as I have kept them these fifteen 
 years. O, I hate that man De Soto. He has defied 
 me at every turn. Death itself would not take him. 
 Ah, more bitter than death to me is the thought that 
 he triumphs over me. But my wealth he shall not 
 have. Never shall he look out upon my lands and 
 say ' These are mine.' Never shall he stand in 
 my ancestral halls. Bring the friar to me — now- — 
 at once. Witness, all, that I do bequeath my riches 
 to the Church — let a monastery be built — a church 
 erected — see to it that my ungrateful daughter and 
 her villainous lover thrive not upon my riches ! " And 
 so in an agony of pain, his last moments embittered 
 by hate, the cruel Don Pedro died. 
 
98 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 
 
 Little could Isabella mourn the loss of such a father ; 
 and little did the loss of her own wealth matter either 
 to Isabella or to De Soto. Their marriage was cele- 
 brated with a grand wedding; and, selecting the most 
 princely mansion of Seville for their home, for two 
 long years they dwelt in perfect happiness and luxury, 
 surrounded with servants, received at court, their 
 house thronged with friends and flatterers — the world 
 looked very bright to them. 
 
 But now De Soto found that even his enormous for- 
 tune could not last forever. Two years more of such 
 luxurious life and it would be gone. 
 
 Somethins: must be done and as it was not the fash- 
 ion in those days for gentlemen to live within their 
 means or to quietly set themselves about some honest 
 business, De Soto's thoughts began to turn again 
 toward the land of adventure . 
 
 Reports of the newly discovered Florida began to 
 engage the interest of the people. One adventurer 
 wrote a glowing account of its inexhaustible mines of 
 gold and silver; its wonderful climate, its rich soil, its 
 great cities with their golden buildings studded with 
 precious stones. 
 
 Extravagant stories these ; but the Spanish people, 
 De Soto among the rest, were willing enough to be- 
 lieve them all. 
 
 Accordingly he applied to the king for ships and 
 
FERDINAND DE SOTO. 99 
 
 men, promising to explore and conquer the country 
 and return one-tifth of all its wealth to the crown. 
 The King, having great faith in De Soto as an adven- 
 turer, and ])eing, as kings were apt to be in those days, 
 often in need of more money, readily granted De 
 Soto's request. 
 
 Ships were fitted out, a selected army of a thousand 
 young, vigorous soldiers w^as formed; and loaded with 
 honors from the king, De Soto set forth. 
 
 Never before had an expedition so a])undantly su| - 
 plied sailed out from Spanish harbor ; among the sol- 
 iers were many Spanish nobles. Isabella with her train 
 of attendants, radiant in her rich robes and sparkling 
 jewels sailed with them. 
 
 As the fleet approached the Island of Cuba over 
 which De Soto had been appointed governor, the peo- 
 ple of the Spanish capital thronged to the shore, with 
 music, and banners, and grand procession to give a 
 suitable reception to their new Governor and his 
 beautiful wife. 
 
 THE LANDING IN FLORIDA. 
 
 In due time, with a fleet of eight large ships freighted 
 with everything that could be needful to conquer the 
 country and then to colonize it, De Soto with his 
 thousand armed men and his three-hundred and fifty 
 
100 
 
 FERDIXAND DE SOTO. 
 
FERDINAND DE SOTO. 101 
 
 horses made their slow passage across the gulf to the 
 shores of the l)eautiful sunny Florida. 
 
 Entering the harbor of Tampa Bay they saw l^lazing 
 from the high places, beacon fires. 
 
 "We shall have no easy time in this adventure," 
 said De Soto as he noted the long lines of lights. 
 " Too well is the reputation of the white man known 
 among these natives ; and we may 1)e sure that these 
 lights along the shore are camp-fires, and that the peo- 
 ple are already in arms against us." 
 
 Several days were employed in careful search for a 
 suitable landing. At last a detachment of three hun- 
 dred men i)ushed to the shore and took possession in 
 the name of Charles the Fifth, King of Spain. 
 
 Such a quiet, warm beautiful night ! Not an Indian 
 to be seen ; and the soft moonlight falling upon the 
 luxuriant l)loom and fruitage of the l)eautiful shore 
 gave it an air of real enchantment. " Pascua Florida ! 
 Pascua Florida I " said the soldiers to each other re- 
 calling the beautiful name which so many years ])efo re, 
 the dreamy, castle-l)uilding Ponce de Leon had given 
 the land. 
 
 But the Spaniards were not the sort of men to he 
 long content with the rich beauties of nature. A bit 
 of gold was far more entrancing to their sordid vision 
 than all the fiowers of the earth. A grand, uplifting 
 mountain-peak told them nothing unless among its 
 crags were hidden precious stones. 
 
102 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 
 
 Too well did the natives realize this ; too well did 
 they know that to them the landing of the white man 
 meant war and death. Waiting until the first faint 
 streaks of gray light spread across the sky, with a war- 
 whoop that rang through the forests like the yell of 
 fiends, down rushed the Indians, hurling upon the in- 
 vaders showers upon showers of arrows and javelins. 
 
 So sudden and so fierce was the attack that the 
 Spaniards, all unprepared, were thrown into a panic. 
 Rushing for their hoats, with loud bugle cries they 
 called for aid from the ships. Promptly, a daring, 
 Spanish nobleman, Vasco Porcallo, with steel-clad 
 men and horse hastened to their aid. 
 
 Vasco Porcallo and his men leaping from the l^oats, 
 putting their spurs to the horses, their sabres flashing 
 in the air, plunged into the very thickest of the foe. 
 The Indians, thrown into confusion by this furious 
 onslaught, fled into the forests. 
 
 All day long the troops were disembarking, and 
 every preparation was made for entering the country. 
 
 Marching to a little village six miles inland, the 
 Spaniards took possession, occupying the houses of 
 the inhabitants as barracks for the soldiers. A few 
 Indians were taken prisoners — the rest had fled at 
 the approach of the army. 
 
 From these prisoners De Soto learned what little 
 prospect there was of any friendly relations being 
 established with the natives. 
 
FERDINAND DE SOTO. 103 
 
 " Our chief will fiofht you — our people will hate 
 you," said the prisoners. "We do not forget the 
 SpaniLrds who came to our country not long ago. We 
 do not forget how the leader burned our villages, and 
 killed our wives and children. We do not foro^et that 
 with their cruel blood-hounds they tracked us through 
 the forests ; that they killed the mother of our good 
 chief, Ucita, and that they mutilated the face of our 
 chief, and then roared with laughter at their work," 
 
 "We have a work before us," said De Soto, "to 
 teach these natives that we come with honest purpose. 
 Let us be careful in our dealings with them, commit 
 no unnecessary cruelties, and see that as far as it 
 can be their rights are respected. The country 
 must be conquered whatever the cost ; and in no 
 easier way can we accomplish it than by gaining the 
 confidence of these people, even were there no higher 
 motive for our dealings with them." 
 
 But De Soto's soldiers could not believe there could 
 be any other way of dealing with Indians than that of 
 brutality ; and though we can believe that De Soto 
 w^as in the beginning honest in his intentions to deal 
 honoral)ly with the natives^ we must remember that 
 no military leader can control the dispositions and 
 motives of his soldiers. 
 
104 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 
 
 UCITA'S COURTESY TO DE SOTO. 
 
 Again and again De. Soto sent friendly messages to 
 Ucita, but received in return only these words: "I 
 want no speeches, no promises from Spaniards. I 
 will receive nothing from them but their heads." 
 
 De Soto, deeming it a most unwise proceeding to 
 set out for a march into the interior, leaving^ so 
 powerful a tribe as Ucita's hostile to him, sent, not- 
 withstanding his rebuffs, message after message to 
 Ucita, telling him that no one detested the conduct of 
 Narvac's, the Spaniard who had so aroused the hatred 
 of these people, than did De Soto himself; that he 
 earnestly Avished to do what could ])e done to repair 
 the wrongs done Ucita and his people ; that it was his 
 honest desire to establish friendly relations with the 
 injured chief. 
 
 At last Ucita sent this message : " The memory of 
 my injuries from your people prevents my returning 
 the reply you would wish to your messages ; at the 
 same time your courtesy prevents my sending you a 
 harsh answer. Let this suffice." 
 
 De Soto could appreciate the grandeur of the spirit 
 of this chief. " My men," said he, " we may learn a 
 lesson even from this uncivilized chief. The man that 
 could, under these circumstances, frame such a speech 
 
FERDINAND DE SOTO. 105 
 
 as that is a nobleman, whatever his race or his con- 
 ditions." 
 
 I am afraid, ahnost, that I am picturing De Soto to 
 you ])etter than he really was. But he was so much 
 more humane, so much more a man of principle than 
 others of these times, that in comparison with them he 
 stands out a hero. Still we must remember he was 
 by no means a hero, or even a kind man, as compared 
 with the standard of our day. He was adventurous, 
 extravagant, eager for gold at almost any cost. Per- 
 haps his quiet, isolated boyhood, together with the 
 unjust treatment he suffered from Don Pedro may have 
 had much to do with forming in him a consideration 
 for the rights and the feelings of others. At any rate, 
 whatever the cause, and imperfect as he was, we are 
 glad at last to read about one adventurer among these 
 Spaniards that approached something like the character 
 of a human-hearted gentleman. 
 
 VASCA PORCALLO AND UCITA. 
 
 Not many days later, word came that Ucita and his 
 people had taken refuge in a forest surrounded by 
 swamps and morasses. 
 
 Porcallo, strutting about, as he always was in his 
 glittering armor, was highly indignant that a savage 
 
106 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 
 
 should presume to hold himself aloof from friendly 
 advances of a Spanish army. 
 
 " I will capture the fugitive," said he. 
 
 So, mounting his magnificent horse, encased in 
 his orlitterino^ armor, he led his men towards the 
 forest. 
 
 Ucita was on the watch. And when he heard that 
 Porcallo was advancing, he sent this message : " You 
 will expose yourself to great peril in your attempt to 
 reach my retreat. You know nothing of the nature of 
 the morasses of our country, and any attempt to reach 
 me must result only in your own loss. I send you 
 this message, not that I fear you, but because your 
 leader, De Soto, has shown so much consideration for 
 my people. 
 
 " Pshaw ! " said Porcallo, as the message was deliv- 
 ered him. "Go back to your chief and tell him that 
 Porcallo is not deceived by any such pretended kind- 
 ness. It is a message dictated either by fear or cow- 
 ardice, and it fails of its mission if Ucita, by it, 
 flattered himself that we should withdraw." 
 
 A man with no magnanimity in his own character, 
 is not likely to recognize it in another. And so, vain- 
 glorious, with more boldness than discretion, Porcallo 
 pushed on. 
 
 " Sound the trumpets ! sound the trumpets ! " called 
 he ; and pressing on, the little band soon arrived upon 
 
FERDINAND DE SOTO. 107 
 
 the border of a vast and dismal morass, leagues and 
 leagues in extent. 
 
 As Ucita had said, he knew nothing of the nature 
 of these morasses. Spurring his horse, he plunired 
 in, supposing they could at least be waded across. 
 
 Only a few rods, and his horse knee deep in the 
 black mud, stumbled and fell. Porcallo, himself, one 
 leg caught in the trappings of his horse, could not free 
 himself. Deeper and deeper sank both horse and 
 rider. 
 
 The unfeeling soldiers on the borders of the morass, 
 shouted with laughter at their leader's struo-o-les. 
 Such was the sense of loyalty among Spaniards in 
 these days ! 
 
 At last, Porcallo, freeing himself, succeeded in drag- 
 ging his bemired steed to the land. The jeering of 
 his own soldiers had stung his pride. Humiliated and 
 enraged, he sullenly ordered his men to return to the 
 camp. Throwing up his commission in disgust, he sailed 
 to Cuba, much to the regret of the army who, under 
 all his boasting and blustering, appreciated the daring 
 spirit of the man, and knew that in him they had had 
 a brave bold leader, reckless though he sometimes was 
 and over-quick in action. 
 
108 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 
 
 MARCH TO OCHILE. 
 
 And now a messenger from Captain Gallegas, an 
 oflScer who, with a small band had been sent to expl'ore 
 farther inland, and learn if possible where the gold 
 regions lay, returned to the camp. 
 
 He reported that at no long distance it was believed 
 that great quantities of gold were to be found. 
 
 De Soto and his men were elated ! " Who knows," 
 said De Soto, " ]>ut we may be about to enter upon 
 the conquest of another Peru ! " 
 
 So, leaving a garrison of forty horsemen and eighty 
 foot soldiers to guard the fortress, De Soto with the 
 main army set forth. 
 
 Marching in Florida, through the rough pathless 
 country, through tangled fores^^^'j^i^tl great dismal 
 swamps, De Soto soon found it was very different from 
 that in Peru over the hard well-] milt roads. 
 
 Losing their way, for three days and three nights 
 they wandered about in the marshes, struggling through 
 bog and brake, bramble and forest. "Never," as one 
 of the guides afterwards wrote, "could we have found 
 our path but for the sagacity of our horses. For the 
 time they seemed endowed with the instinct of dogs. 
 In the darkness of the night they would puff and 
 snort, and with their noses close to the ground, search 
 out the right tracks." 
 
FERDINAND DE SOTO. 109 
 
 Reaching the territory of one chief, De Soto sent to 
 him that he came in friendly spirit to his territory and 
 with no desire to do him injury. ''If, however," con- 
 tinued the message, "you rebel, remember that we 
 have it in our power to bear down upon you with ter- 
 rible force ; and that the obedience we now ask of you 
 we shall then demand of you to the last man." 
 
 To this the chief sent this heroic reply : 
 
 " You need not tell me what you are or what you 
 wish to do. Others of your hated race have already 
 done that. We know only too Avell that you come to 
 wander up and down our country ; to rob the poor ; 
 to betray the trusting ones ; to murder the defence- 
 less. 
 
 "With such as you we want no peace — no friend- 
 ship. AVar — Avar — Avar is all Ave ask, all aa'c aa^iII 
 have. You say you are brave and strong. So are 
 my warriors brave and strong. Never Avill we become 
 slaA^es of such as you. Rather do we choose death — 
 yes, a hundred deaths, rather than yield ourselves or 
 our country to you." 
 
 Such seemed the spirit of the chiefs through A\iiose 
 territories the Spanish army passed. 
 
 After a long, hard march, the army neared the vil- 
 lage of Ochile. It was just at daybreak. The streets 
 were quiet ; the natives deep in sleep. 
 
 Advancing quietly until on the very outskirts of the 
 
110 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 
 
 village, suddenly at a signal from the leader, rattle, 
 rattle, rattle went the drums, crash went the music, 
 and with a clatter sprang the hundred horses upon the 
 pavements. 
 
 Out rushed the frightened people ! Had an army 
 dropped from the moon they could not have been more 
 amazed, more confounded ! 
 
 The house of the chief was situated in the center of 
 the city. In this great mansion — three hundred feet 
 long — dwelt the chief, surrounded always by a band 
 of warriors always armed and ready for battle. 
 
 At once De Soto held an interview with the chief, 
 assuring him that the Spaniards had no other wish 
 than to pass peacefully through the country. The 
 chief, finding himself at the mercy of the Spaniards, 
 thought it wise to appear to accept the conditions with 
 as good grace as possible, and so throw their unwel- 
 come guests off guard. At De Soto's request couriers 
 were sent to the chief's two l^rothers who were them- 
 selves chiefs of neighboring tribes. 
 
 The oldest of the three brothers was most suspicious 
 of the white men. " They come for no good, be sure," 
 said he : " and their smooth stories have no meaning. 
 Let us be friendly with them only in appearance. Re- 
 member our only safety is in killing them all — yes, 
 all — even De Soto who, we grant seems to be honest. 
 Meantime let us watch. I will prepare a tiap, together 
 
FERDINAND DE SOTO. Ill 
 
 we will spring upon these villd$ins who have forced their 
 presence upon us." 
 
 These brothers, all three, were men of uncommon 
 intelligence ; shrewd and far-seeing. 
 
 For many days the Spaniard army rested in the 
 territories of the three chiefs. De Soto, honest in his 
 friendship, belie \^ed the chiefs to be honest in theirs. 
 Day after day the oldest chief and De Soto walked and 
 talked, feasted and drank together, seemingly the best 
 of friends. 
 
 But one day some friendly Indians whispered to 
 De Soto!s officers that a plot was being formed to en- 
 trap the Spaniards. De Soto could not at first believe 
 it. 
 
 "It is true," said the Indians. "The chief will 
 bring his warriors out on parade — all unweaponed — 
 to please you, he will say. Suddenly will he signal ; 
 the warriors will seize their arms hidden in the Ions: 
 grass and will fall upon you." 
 
 The Indians seemed confident and the plot seemed 
 probable. "It can do no harm to be ready," said De 
 Soto, revealing the plan to his men. 
 
 Sure enough ! only a day or two later the chief 
 said to De Soto, " On tomorrow, I will parade my 
 forces out upon the plain, and will show the military 
 tactics of our people. You will be entertained to com- 
 pare them with the European methods of war-fare." 
 
 il 
 
112 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 
 
 De Soto, assuming a friendly and most unsuspicious 
 air, replied that it would indeed be a genuine pleas- 
 ure. 
 
 "And," added he, with the appearance of wishing 
 to do all in his power to return the generous favor of 
 his host, " I, in my turn will bring out on parade my 
 soldiers. Their glittering armor will add to the scene, 
 and the people of the village will have a double pleas- 
 ure." 
 
 The chief appeared a little embarrassed by this un- 
 expected turn of afiairs. It was hardly in keeping 
 with his plan. "Still," thought he, "even with the 
 Spaniards drawn up in battle array our plot must suc- 
 ceed. Let us but capture De Soto and the Spaniards 
 will be thrown into confusion. Then, too, our war- 
 riors out-number the Spanish troops, ten to one ! " 
 
 So, confiding this new turn of affairs to his warriors, 
 arrangements for the parade was still pushed forward. 
 
 THE PARADE. 
 
 The morning dawned bright and clear. Everybody 
 was very busy, very anxious, full of hate ; everybody 
 assumed to be very idle, very indifferent, and full of 
 the sunniest good humor. 
 
 De Soto, secretly well armed, walked along by the 
 
FERDINAND DE SOTO. 113 
 
 chiefs side, talking and laughing ; near by sauntered 
 his body-guard, apparently with nothing to do. 
 
 But, notwithstanding this careless air, De Soto and 
 his men watched every action of the chief; not one 
 movement of his hand escaped them. 
 
 Now they were full upon the field. All was in 
 readiness. De Soto stood in the very midst of his foe. 
 The signal was given. Instantly the attendants fell 
 upon De Soto ! Instantly the ten-thousand warriors 
 seized their Aveapons and with hideous, resounding 
 war-whoops rushed upon the Spaniards. 
 
 But hark ! the bugle-blast ! And see ! the body- 
 guard of De Soto has turned upon the chief! The 
 Spaniards in solid ranks, charge upon their foe ! 
 Never did so terrible a storm burst so suddenly from 
 so serene a sky ! 
 
 Valiantly and with the ferocity of animals at bay 
 did the natives fight ; but they were no match for the 
 steel-clad Spaniards. All day long the slaughter — 
 for it was slaughter in very truth — went on. At 
 night-fall the Indians crept away into the forests ; and 
 De Soto's forces with nine-hundred captives, among 
 them the chief, withdrew to their barracks. 
 
114 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 
 
 A SECOND CONSPIRACY. 
 
 Notwithstanding the treachery of the chief, De Soto 
 treated him, as a ca})tive, with the greatest courtesy 
 and consideration. 
 
 As much liberty as possible was granted him, and 
 he was given a seat at De Soto's own table. All this 
 however, could not wash from the memory of these 
 Indians the cruel wrongs they had received from the 
 earlier Spaniards ; all this could not convince them that 
 De Soto, only with a different method of proceeding, 
 had the same cruel motives of conquest and destruc- 
 tion of the natives. 
 
 Of the nine hundred captives, one had been assigned 
 to each of the Spaniards as a servant to serve him in 
 camp and at the ta])le. 
 
 Noting that they stood man to man, the chief 
 planned another attack upon the foe. 
 
 Theodore Irving, in his " Conquest of Florida " tells 
 the story of this second attack in the following pleas- 
 ant manner : 
 
 " Scarcely had the chief conceived the rash scheme 
 of attacking the Spaniards than he hastened to put it 
 into operation. To the four young Indians who were 
 allowed to serve him as pages, he revealed his plan and 
 sent them with it to the principal prisoners with orders 
 
FERDIN"AND DE SOTO. 115 
 
 that they pass it on secretly from one to the other, 
 and that all hold themselves in readiness to carry it 
 into effect. 
 
 The dinner hour of the third day Avas the time fixed 
 upon for striking the l)low. The chief would be dining 
 with De Soto and the Indians would be each in atten- 
 dance upon his master. 
 
 The chief was to watch his opportunity, spring upon 
 De Soto and kill him, giving at the same time a war- 
 wdioop which should resound throughout the village. 
 The war-whoop should be the signal for each Indian to 
 grapple with his master and despatch him on the 
 spot. 
 
 On the day appointed the chief was dining as usual 
 by De Soto's side. Suddenly springing to his feet, 
 he closed instantly with the Governor, seized him with 
 the left hand liy the collar, and with his right hand 
 dealt him such a blow in the face as to level him to 
 the ground. The blood gushed from his eyes, his 
 nose, his mouth. The chief then threw himself upon 
 his victim at the same time giving the blood-curdling 
 war-whoop that the Spaniards had well learned to 
 fear. 
 
 All this was the work of an instant. And before 
 the officers present had time to recover from their 
 surprise the governor lay senseless beneath the tiger 
 grasp of the maddened chief. One more blow from 
 
116 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 
 
 the savage and De Soto would have been dead. But 
 out flashed a dozen swords and lances, every one 
 piercing the body of the chief, and he lay lifeless 
 across the body of the wounded De Soto. 
 
 The w^ar-whoop had indeed resounded throughout 
 the village. Hearing the fatal signals, the Indians, 
 attending their masters, attacked them Avith whatever 
 missile they could command. Some seized upon 
 pikes and swords ; others snatched up pots and ket- 
 tles, and, beating the Spaniards alwut the heads, 
 bruised and scalded them. Some caught up the plates, 
 pitchers, jars, and the pestles wherewith they pounded 
 the maize. Others seized upon stools, benches, and 
 tables striking right and left with impotent fury. 
 Others snatched up burning tire brands and rushed 
 like very devils into the aifray. Many of the Spaniards 
 were terribly burned and bruised. 
 
 This terrible assault was of short duration. Though 
 the Spaniards were indeed taken hy surprise, they 
 were not unarmed. Their long sharp sabres gave 
 them great advantage over the natives. 
 
 Though several were slain and many severely 
 wounded, the natives were soon overpowered. The 
 Spaniards exasperated, maddened, showed no mercy; 
 and hundreds of the w^arriors fell before their fury." 
 
FERDINAND DE SOTO. 
 
 117 
 
 ON THE ST. JOHN'S RIVER. 
 
 ONWARD ! 
 
 A few days later, as soon as De Soto was al)le to 
 move about, they took up their line of march again 
 towards the '' gold region." 
 
 The road was hard, the natives were hostile and 
 treacherous, and the soldiers suffered untold misery 
 from hunger and exhaustion. But what wouldn't these 
 adventurers endure for gold ! Gold, gold, gold ! 
 Life or death, safety or peril, comfort or hitter hard- 
 ship — they cared little, spurred on and driven on as 
 
118 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 
 
 they were by their insatiable thirst, their grasping 
 avarice, their insane mania for gold. 
 
 So on and on, month after month they marched — 
 always hearing of the wonderful gold country a 
 little farther on. Look on your map and see the 
 long irregular route of these men I Think what they 
 must have suflered, what toil and struggle must have 
 been theirs. It seems almost incredible that men 
 could be so insanely greedy ! 
 
 Day after day their number grew smaller ; day after 
 day they grew weaker ; hope died Avithhi them as dis- 
 appointment after disappointment met them. With 
 indomitable energy and will De Soto dragged along 
 his weary troops. Xo sounds of joy were now heard 
 along the ranks. There was no longer any hope for 
 cheer. 
 
 It was wonderful the poAver De Soto held over his 
 men ; it is wonderful the love they had for him and 
 the confidence they had in him as day after day, sick, 
 half-starved, meeting with nothing but defeat and dis- 
 appointment, they willingly followed his command. 
 
 But let us hasten along. That De Soto discovered 
 the Mississippi we all know — every history will tell 
 us that. For four long day the troops had been toil- 
 ins- along: throuo'h a wretched dismal reirion, unin- 
 habited and covered with tangled forests and almost 
 impassable swamps. 
 
FERDINAND DE SOTO. 119 
 
 At leno^th, cominir out from the dense forests into 
 the blessed sunlight, they saw rising before them a 
 little Indian village. And hark ! what is that rolling, 
 ruml^ling sound in the distance ! Nearer and nearer 
 the ^\ eary troops drag themselves !" It sounds like the 
 falling of waters ! 
 
 Water ! Water ! Water ! For an instant the sol- 
 diers believed it to be the ocean ! O, what a welcome 
 sight ! Like an old friend it smiled back at them ! 
 And it was enough for the tired hearts that once more 
 they even looked upon the ocean — the ocean, whose 
 waters reached to the shores of their long-lost homes ! 
 
 But even this illusion was not long spared them. 
 Overjoyed as they would have been to have discovered 
 what they soon learned was a mighty river, w^orn out 
 as they were, they had little enthusiasm to be aroused 
 even ])y this great stream of an unknown river. 
 
 On its shores, in the little village lived a tribe of 
 isolated Indians who had not even heard of De Soto's 
 presence in the country I 
 
 Chisca, the chief, was an old man, feeble and bowed 
 with age. In his youth he had been a renowned war- 
 rior ; and when he saw the Spaniards approaching, 
 instinctively judging them as enemies, he seized his 
 tomahawk, eager for battle. 
 
 Friendly messages were sent from De Soto ; but 
 the old chief saw in them nothing but an invading 
 
120 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 
 
 army. In only three hours a l)and of four thousand 
 warriors came out from the villiage ready to attack 
 their foe. 
 
 Four thousand Indians to four hundred Spaniards ! 
 This was indeed a fearful out-numbering I 
 
 " And if four thousand warriors can ])e assembled 
 in three hours," said the interpreter, fiercely "think 
 how many more are in the country round ready to 
 rally at our chief's call ! ". 
 
 By great exertion on De Soto's part, a compromise 
 was affected. The Spaniards were allowed six days 
 to rest in, on conditions that at the end of that time 
 they promi.^re to move quietly away without molest- 
 ing the village or the great fields of grain. 
 
 Gladly the Spaniards availed themselves of this 
 leniency. At the end of the six days, rested and 
 strengthened they marched away, along the bank of 
 the great river, crossing at length at a place some 
 miles farther south. 
 
 Up and down the river along its western bank the 
 little band wandered, hopeful again in the richness of 
 the country spread out before them and the easy 
 marching. Here and there they came upon friendly 
 Indians, but more often those to whom rumors of 
 former cruelties from the white man had reached. 
 
FERDINAND DE SOTO. 121 
 
 DEATH OF DE SOTO. 
 
 Care, disappointment, exhaustion had already left 
 their traces upon the worn-out leader. No longer 
 could he disguise the deep disappointment he felt in 
 the success of this long, wearisome adventure. His 
 step became feel)le, he grew thin and weak, his face 
 haggard and worn. 
 
 Weaker and weaker he grew, until the most hope- 
 ful of his followers could not but see that their brave 
 leader had fought his last Ixattle. 
 
 Calmly he prepared for death. Calling his men alwut 
 him, he administered to them the oath of allegiance to 
 the officer whom he chose as his successor. 
 
 Tenderly he spoke with them all, thanked them 
 for their loyalty and faithful following through the 
 long, perilous adventures. 
 
 These war-worn, faithful veterans wept bitterly as 
 their leader bade them farewell. 
 
 " Let us at least protect the dead body of our leader 
 from the insults of the natives," said they, when he was 
 breathing his last. " Too gladly would they drag him 
 forth from his grave and l^urn him, or throw him to 
 the dogs. Let us bury him m the waters of this 
 mighty river which, as a reward for his long months 
 of hardship, our good Father permitted him, at the 
 very end, to discover." 
 
122 
 
 FERDINAND DE SUTO, 
 
FERDINAND DE SOTO. 123 
 
 Accordingly in the niglit, covered by its awful dark- 
 ness, a few loving officers, having hewn out a rude 
 casket from the trunk of a great oak, bore the dead 
 body out into the river, and with quiet and secrecy 
 sank it in the still black waters. 
 
 Thus ended, in his forty-second year, the life of 
 Ferdinand De Soto. From babyhood his life had 
 been one of hardship and disappointment. Little as 
 he would compare with the standard of a noble, gen- 
 erous, gentleman in our times, it is with pleasure that 
 we think of him among the long line of greedy, cruel, 
 unprincipled fortune-seekers of his day, standing out 
 amid the influences and the temptations of his times, a 
 noble-meaning, humane-feeling, honorably-dealing 
 man, an honest adventurer, and a brave, unflinching 
 soldier. 
 
124 MEMORY GEMS. 
 
 MEMORY GEMS. 
 
 Not when u hero falls, 
 
 The sound a world appalls ; 
 
 For while we plant his cross, 
 
 There is a glory even in the loss. 
 
 But when some craven heart , 
 
 From lionor dares to part, — 
 
 Then, then the groan the blanching cheek, 
 
 Hnd men in whispers speak ; 
 
 Nor kith nor country daie reclaim 
 
 From the black depths, his name. 
 
 — E. C. Stedman. 
 
 Fling abroad our starry banner 
 
 To the pure, fresh northern blast, 
 Sanctified by present glory 
 
 And the memory of the past ! 
 Beat our drums beneath its waving. 
 
 Blow our bugles loud and clear. 
 And the brave, inspiring music 
 
 Let mankind's enslavers hear ! 
 
 — Anon. 
 
 Columbia ! Columbia ! to glory arise. 
 
 The queen of the world, and the child of the skies. 
 
 — Timothy D wight. 
 
 O land ! of every land the best, 
 
 O land I whose glory shall increase, 
 Now, in your whitest raiment drest 
 For the great festival of peace, 
 
MEMORY GEMS. 125 
 
 Take from your flag its folds of gloom, 
 
 And let it float undimmed above, 
 
 Till over all our vales shall bloom 
 
 The sacred colors that we love. 
 
 — Phcebe Cart, 
 
 Our country forever ! On the folds of her flag 
 
 This motto of freemen is blazoned full high ; 
 Run up the proud ensign, from the loftiest crag 
 
 Of liberty's steep let it float to the sky. 
 
 Float freely forever, our banner of stars ! 
 
 Wave, wave on the breath of freemen's huzzas ! 
 Our country forever, let time tell the story, 
 O country forever, unending her glory. 
 
 — Anon. 
 
 There, on the field of battle. 
 
 Lies the young warrior, dead. 
 Who shall speak in the soldier's honor? 
 
 How shall his praise be said? 
 Cannon, there in tlie battle. 
 
 Thundered the soldier's praise. 
 Hark ! how the volumed volleys echo , 
 
 Down through the far-off days ! 
 Tears for the grief of a father, 
 
 For a mother's anguish, tears ; 
 But for him that died for his country, 
 
 Glory and endless years ! 
 
 W. D. HOWELLS. 
 
 When banners are waving, and lances a-pushing ; 
 When captains are shouting, and war-horses rushing ; 
 When cannon are roaring, and liot bullets flying, 
 .He that would honor win must not fear dying. 
 
 — Anon. 
 
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