History of the Indians, of North and South America

by Samuel G. Goodrich

After many battles and skirmishes, the Spaniards approached a village called Anhayea. The Indians had fled, but it was found to contain two hundred and fifty large and commodious houses; besides which, there were said to be many others in the province, consisting of from fifty to a hundred houses. There were, also, many dwellings scattered about the country. De Soto, to relieve himself from the harassing attacks of the Indians in this quarter, formed a plan to get possession of the cacique, Capafi. This person was so fat and unwieldy, that he could neither walk nor stand. When he went about his dwelling, he was obliged to move on his hands and knees, and in going from place to place was borne in a litter on the shoulders of his subjects. Learning that he was in the midst of a dense and vast forest, about eight leagues off, fortified in the strongest manner known to this people, and garrisoned by a band of his bravest and choicest warriors, so that he felt himself to be impregnable, De Soto determined to attack him.

The Spaniards met with a strong resistance at the entrance of the defile which led to the open place where the cacique had taken up his abode. It was so narrow that but two could go in abreast. The palisades were, however, gained in succession, and the place of the cacique’s refuge finally reached. Here a desperate conflict took place. Perceiving the danger of their chief, the Indians threw themselves on the swords and spears of the Spaniards. Many were the valiant feats performed on both sides; but as the Indians were without defensive armor, most of them were at last cut down, and the cacique, knowing that further resistance was vain, called on the survivors to surrender. They therefore threw themselves before the Spanish leader, and offered their own lives, but besought him to spare that of their cacique.

De Soto assured them of pardon, and that he would henceforth consider them as his friends. Capafi, unable to walk, was taken up on the arms of his attendants to kiss De Soto’s hands, who treated him with urbanity and kindness. The wily chief, however, on the return to the village of Anhayea, found means to escape. This was effected in the following manner. The Indians, notwithstanding the captivity of their chief, did not cease their efforts to annoy the Spaniards. De Soto reproached the cacique with ingratitude, and threatened a war of extermination. The cacique expressed his grief, and said, that as the chief assailants were concealed in a thick forest, five or six leagues off, he would go there under guard of some Spaniards, and persuade them to submit.

De Soto sent him, attended by a company of horse and foot, who were ordered to watch him closely, and not allow him to escape. On reaching the forest, at sunset, the cacique sent some Indians to the warriors who were there concealed, with orders to assemble before him the next morning. The Spaniards, satisfied that the orders of the cacique would be obeyed, betook themselves to rest, having stationed their sentinels, and placed a guard over the chief; but, owing to the fatigue of their long march, they all fell asleep. Perceiving this, the cacique watched his opportunity, crawled on his hands and knees through the camp, and soon fell in with a party of his warriors, who took him on their shoulders and carried him away. The Spaniards, mortified with the result of their expedition, returned, and on their march were taunted by the Indians for the failure of their schemes. They pretended to De Soto that they had lost their captive by some art of necromancy, and he, though aware of the truth, apparently yielded to the story, saying, that the Indians were such wonderful necromancers that they might have performed still greater feats of skill.

In an attempt made by a garrison left behind at Hivrihigua to reach De Soto, a terrible battle ensued in a morass, which came near proving fatal to the whole party. Nothing but the fall of the Indian chief who led the onset saved them from destruction. The battle took place in the water, and the Indians rushed with wild yells from behind bushes, brakes, and the trunks of trees, discharging showers of arrows at their enemy. The horses, being wounded, became furious, and threw off the foot-soldiers, who were mounted behind the horsemen. They were thus exposed to the arrows of the enemy, who perceived their fall, and rushed forward to despatch them.

In front of the assailants was an Indian entirely naked, bold and fearless, with a large plume of feathers on his head. He sought to gain the shelter of a great tree which lay between him and the Spaniards. One of these, bearing a crossbow, sent an arrow with so true an aim, that it pierced him through the breast. He staggered forward a few paces, crying out to his followers, “These traitors have slain me!” His comrades then rushed to his aid, received him in their arms, and, passing him on from one to another, carried him away.

In another part of the morass, the battle was not less bloody, and the Spaniards were losing ground, when, at the most critical moment, the news came to the Indians that their chief was mortally wounded; this checked their ardor, and they began to retreat. The Spaniards halted for the night, and it is said that scarcely a man among them had escaped without a wound.

On resuming their march, every inch of ground was disputed by the enemy, till the adventurers came to an open plain, where the cavalry could act with effect. The Indians then departed, but, when night came, they hovered round the camp with dreadful yells and howlings, taunting their foes, and launching against them clouds of arrows, thus forcing them to keep in perpetual motion. Frequently, the Spaniards were obliged to remove barriers and palisades which obstructed their march, and to cut their way through the tangled thicket; while the Indians, from their ambush, cried out, “Where are you going, robbers? We have already killed your chief and all his warriors!”

The Spaniards having spent the winter of 1539 in Apalachee, where they were perpetually annoyed by the bold and warlike savages, resumed their march on the arrival of spring. As they advanced, they came to the deserted village of Achese, where they made prisoners of two warriors, who, being brought before De Soto, demanded, in a bold and fearless manner, “What seek you in our land, peace or war?” De Soto replied, “We seek not war with any one; but our wish is to cultivate peace and friendship. We are in search of a distant province, and all we ask is food by the road.” The warriors promised to supply all necessary food, and an embassy being sent to the cacique of Cofa, he returned a deputation of two thousand Indians, with a present of rabbits, partridges, and maize, and a great number of dogs. The cacique also gave the Spaniards a generous welcome, and set apart his own dwelling for De Soto, providing, likewise, quarters for the army. The province is said to have been very extensive, fertile, and populous. The natives were peaceful, domestic, and affable, treating the strangers with great kindness.

De Soto, who had brought with him a piece of ordnance, showed its power by prostrating, with ten shots, a large oak-tree. The cacique and his people manifested great amazement as well as pleasure; and when the Spaniards departed, the chief sent messengers to his brother Cofaqui, the cacique of an adjoining province, still more opulent and powerful than his own, begging him to receive the strangers kindly. He likewise, in company with his warriors, escorted the army one day’s march, and, having bidden them farewell, charged some of his people to go on further, and do all in their power to serve them.