The cacique Cofaqui, on receiving his brother’s message, sent four chiefs, with a train of Indians, to welcome De Soto and his band. As they drew near, he went out, richly decorated, to receive them; taking with him a company of warriors who carried their bows and arrows in their hands, and wore tall plumes on their heads, with rich mantles of martin-skin, finely dressed, over their shoulders. Four thousand warriors were appointed to escort the strangers, with an equal number of retainers to carry supplies and clothing. These Indians depended on the chase for animal food; but their principal articles of provision were maize, dried plums, grapes, walnuts, and acorns.
A short time before the Spaniards departed, the cacique called his chief warrior to him in the public square, and there, in the presence of De Soto and his officers, said, “You well know that a perpetual enmity has existed between our fathers and the Indians of Cofachiqui. That bitter hatred, you are aware, has not abated in the least; the deep wrongs, the notorious injuries, we have suffered from that vile tribe, still rankle in our hearts, unrevenged! The present opportunity must not be lost! You, the leader of my warriors, must accompany this chief and his braves, and under their protection wreak vengeance on our enemies! I need say no more to you; I leave our cause and our honor in your hands.”
The Indian chief, to whom this message was addressed, was called Patofa; he had a graceful form and striking features, with a noble expression of countenance; and his whole demeanour showed that he was worthy of the trust confided in him. Rising up, he threw off his mantle of skin, seized a broadsword of palm-wood, and performed an exercise with it which excited the admiration of even the Spanish cavaliers. After many singular evolutions, he stopped before the cacique, and, with a profound reverence, said, “I pledge my word to fulfil your commands, so far as I am able; and, by the favor of these strangers, I promise to revenge the insults, the deaths, and losses that our fathers have sustained from the people of Cofachiqui. My vengeance shall be such that the memory of your past evils shall be for ever wiped away. My daring again to appear in your presence will be a token that your commands have been executed. For if the fates deny my hopes, never again shall you behold me, never again shall the sun shine upon me. If the enemy deny me death, my own hand will find it. I will inflict upon myself the punishment my cowardice or evil fortune will merit.”
The cacique rose up and embraced him, and, taking from his own shoulders a beautiful mantle of martin-skins, placed it on Patofa’s shoulders, and said, “I consider that what you have promised is as certain as if it were already done; therefore do I reward you as for services already rendered.”
The march now commenced, and soon after an Indian deserted. Patofa sent some men in pursuit of him, and he was brought back in fetters. The chief ordered him to be led to the banks of a small stream, where he was stripped, thrown on the ground, and commanded to drink the streamlet dry. The culprit drank till he could swallow no more; but the moment he raised his head from the water, five Indians, who were stationed near, belabored him with their clubs till he began again. Some of his comrades hurried to De Soto, and begged his interposition; and he was accordingly released, though half dead with the water he had swallowed.
The army, as they advanced on the high road, at length came to a dense forest, and, as the Indians professed to be as ignorant of the way as the Spaniards, De Soto suspected treachery, and called upon Patofa to explain how it was, that, of his eight thousand men, not one knew the way to Cofachiqui, with the people of which they had been so often engaged in war? Patofa declared his ignorance of the place, saying, that the wars referred to had been carried on solely by skirmishes; and as the natives of Cofachiqui were the most powerful and had been most frequently victorious, his people were afraid to pass beyond their own frontiers. “But,” said he, “do you suspect that I have led your army into these deserts to perish? If so, take what hostages you please. If my head will suffice, take it; if not, you may behead every individual of my band, as they will obey me even to the death.”
At length, they came in sight of a country studded with numerous villages. Here Patofa and his men stole out of the camp by night, assaulted a temple, and massacred every Indian in it, taking their scalps as trophies, to be carried to their cacique, Cofaqui. After laying waste the country for many leagues, slaying and scalping every man, woman, and child, sacking and pillaging villages and temples, and even breaking into the sepulchres,—Patofa and his followers returned home, laden with spoils, and pleased with having fulfilled the promise made to the cacique.
De Soto had now reached the dominions of the kind princess Cofachiqui, which doubtless formed a part of the present State of Georgia;[5] but as the Indians here, and even farther on, belonged to the Florida tribes, and as the country itself constituted a portion of the territory originally called Florida, it will be proper to give some account of them in this connection. We therefore pursue the narrative of De Soto’s march through this region.
The next place mentioned in the story of the adventurers is the province of Achalaque, said, by the narrator, to be the most wretched in all Florida. The inhabitants were a feeble, peaceful race, nearly naked, living chiefly on herbs, roots, and wild fowl. Beyond this, was a province called Xuala. Crossing a chain of low mountains which were uninhabited, the Spaniards next reached the province of Guaxule. When within a league of the principal town, they were met by the cacique, with 500 warriors richly dressed in mantles of various kinds of skins, and adorned with gay feathers. His village consisted of about 300 houses. His own dwelling, into which he received De Soto, stood on a mound, and was encircled by a terrace wide enough for six men to walk upon it abreast.
Still farther on, after passing through a desert country, they came to a village named Ichiaha, standing at the extremity of an island more than five leagues in length, the cacique of which gave them a polite and friendly welcome. After another day’s march, they came to a village called Acoste, the cacique of which was a fierce warrior. He placed himself in battle array at the head of 1,500 of his men, who were decorated with war plumes, and equipped with arms. After some difficulties, a good understanding was established, and the Spaniards were received with hospitality. Continuing their march, they met with numerous tribes, and encountered a great variety of adventures. From the giant chieftain, Tuscaloosa,[6] they received the fiercest resistance; and the Chickasaws, who were a brave and numerous people, assailed them with desperate resolution. As they proceeded, new enemies sprang up to meet them, who either gave them open battle, or hung upon their skirts, and harassed them with perpetual attacks. At one time, they came in sight of a fortress, garrisoned by Indians, whose bodies were painted in stripes of white, black, and red, and their faces blackened, with red circles about their eyes. Some of them wore feathers, and some horns on their heads, so that they looked more like devils than men. Having kindled a fire in front of their fort, they pretended to knock one of their companions on the head with a club, and then swung him by the feet and shoulders, as if they were throwing him into the flames; thus intimating to the Spaniards the kind of treatment they might expect if any of them fell into their hands. The fortress was, however, stormed and carried after a desperate fight, and a fearful scene of blood and carnage ensued, in which multitudes of the Indians were slaughtered.