not been deceived. It was ascertained that they knew that the governor was dead, and it was suspected that in some way or other they had discovered the place where he had been buried. The Spaniards determined, therefore, to adopt another plan for disposing of the body, by means of which they hoped to make it sure that it could never be disturbed. This was to sink it in the middle of the river.

So they felled a tree in the forest-a species of oak, the wood of which is so heavy that it will sink, and made a massive coffin of it, by cutting off a portion of the trunk of suitable length, and hollowing out a cavity in it large enough to contain the body. They were obliged to resort to some such method as this for sinking the body, for the soil was entirely alluvial there, and no stones were to be found. When their rude sarcophagus was finished they disinterred the body, and after placing it in the log they covered it by planks of the same material, nailed firmly on. They then bore the body thus inclosed down to the bank of the river by night, and there, with appropriate ceremonies, they put it on board a boat, rowed out into the middle of the stream, and launched it into the water among the turbid whirlpools that were surging by.

The river at the place where the coffin sank was reported to be more than a hundred feet deep. Two officers had gone out the day before, under pretense of fishing, to sound the depth of the water in different places, in order that the body might be sunk in the very center of the channel.

CONDITION OF THE ARMY AFTER THE DEATH OF DE SOTO.

The officers and soldiers of the army were, after all, not really much grieved at the death of their commander. They were heartily tired of the country and wished to escape from it. And yet some of the officers were unwilling to give up the enterprise, without making some further efforts to carry out De Soto's plans. This difference of opinion led to discussions and debates, and in some cases to insubordination. One conspicuous case of desertion occurred, though it might have been supposed that desertion, especially on the part of the officers, would not be one of the dangers to which an army, under such circumstances as these, would be exposed.

CASE OF A DESERTER.

The desertion occurred soon after the army resumed its march, subsequent to the death of De Soto, and the case illustrates curiously enough the

relations which sometimes subsisted between the Spaniards and the Indian chieftains. The name of the officer was Diego de Guzman. He was a dissipated man, it seems, and a great gambler. He had also in his keeping a beautiful Indian girl, the daughter of a chieftain who lived at some distance from the place where the army was now encamped.

One day this man was missed from the camp, and on making inquiry for him it was ascertained that he had been gambling some days before and had lost everything he possessed. He first played away his money, then his arms, then a fine black horse which he rode, and, last of all, he staked the Indian girl. He lost her too.

He surrendered everything at once to the winner except the girl; but as for her he asked the winner to allow him to retain her in his own hands for a few days, at the expiration of which time he promised to deliver her. To this the winner consented, and since that time Guzman had not been seen or heard of.

It was generally supposed that he had abandoned the expedition, being ashamed of his gambling, and vexed with the losses which he had sustained; and being, moreover, very probably deeply in love with his Indian girl. This supposition was found,

after due inquiry, to be correct. It was reported from good authority that he had gone with the girl to her father's village, and that he was living with her there. But in order to ascertain positively that he had really gone there of his own accord, and was not in any way under restraint in remaining, it was determined to send him a letter.

Accordingly, the commander of the expedition requested another officer, the one who had been Guzman's most particular friend, to write to him, inquiring how it was with him, and inviting him earnestly to return to the camp, promising him at the same time that if he would do so his horse and his arms should be returned to him. This letter was sent by an Indian. The messenger was gone three days. He brought back only a verbal answer, for Guzman, in his new home, had no convenient means of writing. In order, however, to authenticate his answer and to prove to his friend that the letter had really been delivered to him, he wrote his name upon a blank space at the foot of it with a piece of charcoal, and sent it back.

The Indian on his return brought the letter thus marked, and with it a message from Guzman, to the effect that he was entirely at liberty, but that he was contented and happy where he was, and did not intend to return.

One more effort was subsequently made to induce Guzman to return to the camp, but he refused to do so. He was then abandoned to his fate, and was never heard of more.

END OF THE EXPEDITION.

After meeting with various incidents and adventures, which cannot here be related, the expedition at length came unanimously to the conclusion that it was best to retire from the country. They journeyed on until they came to a favorable place upon the Mississippi, where they built vessels, and embarking on board of them, followed the river down to its mouth, and then undertook to coast along the shore of the sea, in the direction which they supposed led to the nearest Spanish settlements. They met with a great number and variety of disasters, as might have been expected, in this desperate navigation. They were wrecked upon reefs, they were attacked by the natives, they were dispersed and driven to sea by gales of wind. At last, however, some remnants of the expedition succeeded in making good their escape, and after various wanderings, found their way home to Spain.