gence that the chief Ucita had taken refuge in a forest,
surrounded with swamps, not far from the Spanish camp. The
vainglorious Porcallo was exceedingly indignant that the Indian chief
should presume to hold himself aloof from all friendly advances. He
entreated De Soto to grant him the privilege of capturing the
fugitive. De Soto complied with his request. The impetuous old man,
fond of parade, and lavish of his wealth, selected a band of horsemen
and footmen, all of whom were gorgeously apparelled for the occasion.
He, himself, was mounted on a magnificent steed and cased in
glittering armor.

It seems that the noble Ucita kept himself well informed of every
movement of the invaders. With a spirit of magnanimity which would
have done honor to the best Christian in the Spanish ranks, he sent a
courier to meet Porcallo, and to say to him,

"You will only expose yourself to infinite peril from the rivers,
morasses, and forests through which you will have to pass in your
attempt to reach my retreat. My position is so secure that all your
attempts to take me will result only in your own loss. I do not send
you this message from any fears on my own account, but because your
leader, De Soto, has manifested so much forbearance in not injuring my
territory or my subjects."

It is really refreshing to find here and there, among all these
demoniac deeds of demoniac men, some remaining traces of that nobility
of character which man had before the fall, when created in God's
image he was but little lower than the angels. Man, as we see him
developed in history, is indeed a ruin, but the ruin of a once noble
fabric. When we think of what man might be, in all generous
affections, and then think of what man is, it is enough to cause one
to weep tears of blood.

Porcallo could not appreciate the magnanimity of Ucita. He regarded
the message as one of the stratagems of war, dictated either by fear
or cowardice. He therefore ordered the trumpets to sound the advance,
his only fear being, that the chief might escape. Porcallo, a Quixotic
knight, had no element of timidity in his character. He led his
troops. He never said "Go," but "Follow." Pressing rapidly forward,
the little band soon arrived upon the border of a vast and dismal
morass, utterly pathless, stretching out many leagues in extent.

The hot-headed cavalier, thinking that the swamp might be waded, put
spurs to his horse and dashed forward. He had advanced but a few ro