"There are long streets filled with jewelers who make rings for the ears, nose and arms," they said. "Forty days must you journey to reach this land, and you must travel through a desert where there is neither water nor food to be had."
The first Spaniard to attempt the search for the Seven Cities was the cruel Guzman, who looked north for the Amazons. He had with him quite an army, and his men were so excited over the stories they heard that they scarcely took time to eat or sleep on the way. They hoped every day to find the cities, but instead of this the country grew more desolate, the road more difficult, and the cities still farther to the north. Then the Spaniards began to complain, and said:
"We have been deceived, and shall all die in this bleak land. Let us return to Mexico." And they did. For six years no one had the courage to seek the Seven Cities.
Then something very strange happened.
Into a little seaport where Cortez had ordered some ships built to explore the western coast, came wandering four strange men. They were barefooted, and had no clothing except some old, dirty skins with the hair worn off in spots. Their heads were a perfect mass of tangles, and their beards reached almost to the knees. Falling flat on their faces before the first white man they saw, they cried out in a loud voice:
"Thank God! We are safe at last!" When the astonished Spaniard turned to look at them, they seized his hands and kissed them, and springing to their feet danced and shouted for joy.
"These are escaped maniacs," said the people, gathering around to look at them. "Whatever shall we do with mad men?"
"No, no! You do not understand. We are poor wanderers who have been lost for years among the Indians."
"Let us take them to our Captain. There is something very strange about this," said the Spaniards, and they started at once.
"Who are you?" asked the Captain, rudely, looking with disgust at their dirt and rags.