ons were received from the attempts they made to obtain
intelligence from the Indians. Lured by false hopes, they wandered
about here and there, ever disappointed in their hopes of finding the
white men. Entering a vast uninhabited region, they found their food
exhausted, and but for the roots and herbs they dug up, would have
perished from hunger.

The Spaniards were in despair. They were lost in savage wilds,
surrounded by a barbarous and hostile people, with whom, for want of
an interpreter, they could hold no intelligible communication. They
had now been wandering in these bewildering mazes for three months.
Mountains were rising before them; dense forests were around. They had
probably reached the hunting-grounds of the Pawnees and Comanches. It
was the month of October; winter would soon be upon them. A council of
war was called, and after much agitating debate, it was at length
decided, as the only refuge from perishing in the wilderness, to
retrace their steps to the Mississippi.

Forlorn, indeed, were their prospects now. They had made no attempt to
conciliate the natives through whose provinces they had passed, and
they could expect to encounter only hostility upon every step of their
return. The country also, devastated in their advance, could afford
but little succor in their retreat. Their worst fears were realized.
Though they made forced marches, often with weary feet, late into the
night, they were constantly falling into ambuscades, and had an almost
incessant battle to fight.

Before they reached the Arkansas river the severe weather of winter
set in. They were drenched with rains, pierced with freezing gales,
and covered with the mud through which they were always wading. Their
European clothing had long since vanished. Their grotesque and
uncomfortable dress consisted principally of skins belted around their
waists and over their shoulders; they were bare-legged. Many of them
had neither shoes nor sandals; a few had moccasons made of skins. In
addition to all this, and hardest to be borne, their spirits were all
broken, and they were sunk in despondency which led them to the very
verge of despair.

Every day some died. One day, seven dropped by the wayside. The
Spaniards could hardly stop to give them burial, for hostile Indians
were continually rising before, behind, and on each side of them. At
length, early in December, they reached the banks of the Mississippi
near the mouth of the Arkansas.