"In the heart of this close and impervious forest, a piece of ground was cleared and fortified for the residence of the Cacique and his warriors. The only entrance or outlet, was by a narrow path cut through the forest. At every hundred paces, this path was barricaded by palisades and trunks of trees, at each of which was posted a guard of the bravest warriors. Thus the fat Cacique was ensconced in the midst of the forest like a spider in the midst of his web, and his devoted subjects were ready to defend him to the last gasp.
"When the Governor arrived at the entrance to the perilous defile, he found the enemy well prepared for its defence. The Spaniards pressed forward, but the path was so narrow that the two foremost only could engage in the combat. They gained the first and second palisades at the point of the sword. There it was necessary to cut the osiers and other bands, with which the Indians had fastened the beams. While thus occupied they were exposed to a galling fire and received many wounds. Notwithstanding all these obstacles, they gained one palisade after the other until, by hard fighting, they arrived at the place of refuge of the Cacique.
"The conflict lasted a long time, with many feats of prowess on both sides. The Indians however, for want of defensive armor, fought on unequal terms, and were most of them cut down. The Cacique called out to the survivors to surrender. The latter, having done all that good soldiers could do, and seeing all their warlike efforts in vain, threw themselves on their knees before the Governor and offered up their own lives, but entreated him to spare the life of their Cacique.
"De Soto was moved by their valor and their loyalty; receiving them with kindness, he assured them of his pardon for the past, and that henceforth he would consider them as friends. Capafi, not being able to walk, was borne in the arms of his attendants to kiss the hands of the Governor, who, well pleased to have him in his power, treated him with urbanity and kindness."
Severe as had been the conflict, De Soto returned to Anhayea with his captive, highly gratified by the result of his enterprise. He had strictly enjoined it upon his troops not to be guilty of any act of wanton violence. On the march he had very carefully refrained from any ravaging of the country. He now hoped that, the chief being in his power and being treated with the utmost kindness, all hostilities would cease. But, much to his disappointment, the warriors of Capafi, released from the care of their chief, devoted themselves anew to the harassment of the Spaniards in every possible way.
Capafi seemed much grieved by this their conduct, assuming to be entirely reconciled to his conqueror. He informed De Soto that his prominent warriors, who directed the campaign, had established their headquarters in a dense forest about thirty miles from Anhayea. He said that it would be of no avail for him to send messengers to them, for they would believe that the messages were only such as De Soto compelled their chief to utter. He however offered to go himself to the camp of his warriors, accompanied by such a guard of Spanish troops as De Soto might deem it best to send with him. He expressed the assurance, that he should be enabled to induce his warriors to throw down their arms.
De Soto accepted the proposition. In the early morning a strong escort of infantry and cavalry left the village to conduct the chief to the encampment of the natives. Skillful guides accompanied them, so that they reached the vicinity of the encampment just as the sun was going down. The chief sent forward scouts immediately, to inform his friends of his approach. The Spaniards, weary of their long day's march, and convinced of the impossibility of the escape of the chief, who could scarcely walk a step, were very remiss in watchfulness. Though they established sentinels and a guard, in accordance with military usage, it would seem that they all alike fell asleep. It is probable that the wily chief had sent confidential communications to his warriors through his scouts.
The Spaniards were encamped in the glooms of the forest. At midnight, when darkness, silence and solitude reigned, Capafi stealthily crept on his hands and knees, a few rods from his sleeping guard, into the thicket, where a band of Indian runners met him with a litter and bore him rapidly away beyond all chance of successful pursuit. The Spaniards never caught glimpse of their lost captive again. When they awoke their chagrin and dread of punishment were extreme. The sentinels, who had been appointed to watch the captive, solemnly averred, in excuse for their neglect, that during the night demoniac spirits had appeared, and had borne away the unwieldy chief through the air.
As all the band were implicated in the escape, all were alike ready to aver that, during the night, they had witnessed very strange sights and heard very strange sounds. When they carried back this report, the good-natured De Soto, convinced that fretting and fault-finding would do no good, appeased their alarm by saying, with a peculiar smile:
"It is not strange. These Indian wizards perform feats far more difficult than conjuring away a fat chief."