abeca de Vaca to break his word to people who
trusted him. He had suffered every sort of privation; he had traveled
more than ten thousand miles on foot in his six years among the Indians
of the Southwest; now he had lost most of his profit from that long
exile; but he went back to Spain with faith unbroken and honor clear as
a white diamond.

In May, 1536, he and his companions reached Culiacan in the territory of
Spain. All the way to the City of Mexico they were feasted and welcomed
as honored guests. The account which Cabeca de Vaca wrote of his travels
was the first written description of the country now called Texas,
Arizona and New Mexico.

NOTE

This story follows closely the "Relacion of Cabeca de Vaca." It
illustrates the resourcefulness, bravery and ingenuity of Spanish
cavaliers of the heroic age as hardly any other episode does.

LONE BAYOU

De Soto was a gentleman of Spain
In those proud years when Spanish chivalry
From fierce adventure never did refrain,--
Ruler of argosies that ruled the sea,
She looked on lesser nations in disdain,
As born to trafficking or slavery.

In shining armor, and with shot and steel
Abundantly purveyed for their delight,
Banners before whose Cross the foe should kneel,
His company embarked--how great a light
Through men's perversity to stoop and reel
Down through calamity to endless night!

Yet unsubmissive, obdurately bold,
The savages refused to serve their need.
They would not guide the conquerors to their gold,
Nor though cast in the fire like a weed
Or driven by stern compulsion to the fold,
Would they abandon their unhallowed creed.

The forest folk in terror broke and fled
Like fish before the fierce pursuing pike.
The stubborn chiefs as hostages were led--
And in the wilderness, a grisly dyke
Of slaves and captives, lay the heathen dead,
And the black bayou claims all dead alike.

Then southward through the haunted bearded trees
The Spaniards fought their way--Mauila's fires
Devoured their vestments and their chalices,
Their sacramental wine and bread--the choirs
No longer sang their requiems, and the seas
Lay between them and all their sacred spires.

At last in a lone cabin, where the cane
Hid the black mire before the lowly door,
De Soto died--although they sought to feign