spoken, good-natured, cordial, droll people, whom I should have become very fond of. And then "Skyrnir's Glove," the mammoth cave, and the little green river which flows there I ought to have seen them! Lerner H. talks about that cave till I almost fany I have seen it.

scene.

I must tell you of a pleasure which he prepared for me one evening on the Ohio. He asked me whether I should like to hear the negroes of the ship sing, and led me for this purpose to the lowest deck, where I beheld a strange The immense engine-fires are all on this deck, eight or nine apertures all in a row; they are like yawning fiery throats, and beside each throat stood a negro naked to his middle, who flung in fire-wood. Pieces of wood were passed onward to these feeders by other negroes, who stood up aloft on a large open place between them and a negro, who, standing on a lofty stack of firewood, threw down with vigorous arms food for the monsters on deck. Lerner H. encouraged the negroes to sing; and the negro up aloft on the pile of fire-wood began immediately an improvised song in stanzas, and at the close of each the negroes down below joined in vigorous chorus. It was a fantastic and grand sight to see these energetic black athletes lit up by the wildly flashing flames from the fiery throats, while they, amid their equally fantastic song, keeping time most exquisitely, hurled one piece of fire-wood after another into the yawning fiery gulf. Every thing went on with so much life, and so methodically, and the whole scene was so accordant and well arranged, that it would have produced a fine effect upon any theatre. whatever. The improvisation was brought finally to a close with a hint that the singing would become doubly merry, and would sing twice as well, if they could have a little brandy when they reached Louisville, and that they could buy brandy if they could have a little money, and

so on.

Nor did Mr. H. allow them to be mistaken in their anticipations.

We are still in the grain-district of the Mississippi, but we shall soon reach the region of cotton. We have now Arkansas on our right hand, and Tennessee on our left, slave states rich in natural beauty, but still rude in spiritual and material culture.

December 20th. We are now in the region of cotton. The shores on both sides are low and swampy, covered by forests of cotton-wood-trees, now leafless. Here and there, however, are interspersed cotton plantations, with the white slave villages and the habitations of the planters; and one sees swarthy figures moving about on the gray soil, gathering the cotton-pods that still remain upon the blackening shrubs. I went on shore to-day with Mr. H. at a cotton plantation, and broke off some branches, with tufts of cotton still hanging upon them, from shrubs which grew round a slave-hut. The tufts of cotton are extremely beautiful as they come forth from the opening capsules of the seed-pod. Every seed is imbedded in a pillow of Cotton is the envelope of the seed. You shall see it when I return.

cotton.

We have now Arkansas on our right, and the State of Mississippi on our left. Along the river lie the canebrake, thick reed-like canes, which stand up as impenetrable as a wall between the water and the land.

Thus far came Father Marquette upon his sun-bright Mississippi journey from the North; thus far, also, from the South advanced the first European discoverer, the Spaniard, Ferdinand de Soto.

The discovery of the Mississippi is two poems; the one beautiful and sun-bright as its idyllian islands and its clear waters in the North, the other as melancholy, as tragically gloomy as the tint and the scenery of the river in its southern portion, through which I am now journeying. The hero of the former is the mild, unpretending Father Marquette. The hero of the latter is the proud warrior, Ferdinand de Soto.

Soto had been the favorite companion of Pizarro in the conquest of Peru; he had distinguished himself at the storming of Cusco, and was favored by Charles V. in Spain, and rewarded both with honor and wealth, and finally appointed by him Governor of Cuba. But his proud, ambitious mind desired more. Fooled by false prophets, and most of all by his own heart, he desired to fit out an expedition at his own cost, which should advance from Florida into North America, and there conquer for the Spaniards richer treasures and more beautiful lands than those of Mexico and Peru; and his own belief possessed so great a power of influencing the mind of the Spaniards, that vast numbers of young men of noble birth and good fortune enlisted under his command. They sold their vineyards, their houses, and valuables to purchase expensive arms, equipments, and horses. Out of multitudes who offered themselves as volunteers on this new expedition of discovery, he selected six hundred young men, all adventurers, wealthy, and proud as himself.

A more magnificent spectacle was never beheld than that of the landing of these proud cavaliers on the shore of the New World; their banners and standards floating in the air, in the soft air of Florida, full, as it were, of youthful vitality, of the intoxicating elixir of life. Thus galloped they onward in burnished armor, "very gallant, with silk upon silk," along the shore between the sea and the unknown land which they believed to be full of gold and great cities.

Ferdinand de Soto, who wished to prevent all possibility, either for himself or his troop, of retreat, which might be desired by fickleness or by fear, sent back all his vessels to Cuba, and advanced with his warriors into the wildernesses of the New World. They took with them weapons of all kinds, work-tools, as well as chains and bloodhounds for the subjection of the natives.

It was in the month of May, 1539.

And ever as they advanced onward through the wilderness, mass was punctually performed by priests with all the pomp of Catholic observance, and ever as they advanced onward they practiced cruelty against the natives, while in their own camp they occupied themselves with the excitement of desperate gaming.

The wanderings of the first year were westward, thence into Georgia, which was then, like all the rest of the undetermined southeastern continent, called Florida. Their journeyings were difficult, and often dangerous, from the hostility of the Indians. They found abundance of maize, but no gold and no cities, only small Indian villages. Nor could the natives inform them of any land in which gold was to be found. Some of the adventurers now desired that their leader should turn back; but he replied,

"I will not turn back till I have seen the poverty of the country with my own eyes."

And he ordered the Indians to be burned or mutilated, whom he believed had intentionally misled him. Other captive Indians, alarmed at this, assured him that gold might be found further toward the northwest. And De Soto and his men journeyed on still further, plundering and desolating as they went.

The second year brought them into the highlands of Georgia, where they fell in with the peaceful and gentle Cherokee Indians. A number of De Soto's people wished to settle themselves down here in the midst of this beautiful region, to till the soil and enjoy the good things of the earth. But De Soto had promised Spain gold and great cities, and the proud Spaniard would not rest until he had found them. He was an obstinate man, of few words and strong will, and all his attendants yielded themselves to him.

They wandered still further; advanced into Alabama, where there was a large town called Mavilla (afterward Mobile). Here the Indians rose up against him. A bat

tle ensued the Spanish cavalry overcame the enemy: a more bloody Indian battle was never fought on American soil; the town was set on fire; two thousand five hundred Indians are said to have been slain, suffocated, or burned; the Spaniards lost a few of their number, and most of their baggage, which perished in the flames with the Indian town.

Spanish ships had, however, in the mean time, arrived from Cuba at Pensacola Bay, near Mavilla. But De Soto had not yet found either silver or gold; the flames of Mavilla had destroyed the curious collections which he had made, and, too proud to acknowledge his hopes defeated, he resolved to send no news of himself until he had obtained that for which he sought. He turned away from the sea-coast and proceeded northwestward, in the State of Mississippi. His little band was now diminished to five hundred men.

In the northern parts of Mississippi they were surprised by winter, with severe frost and snow. But maize was still standing in the fields, and the Spaniards were able to obtain a supply of food and shelter for the winter also in the deserted huts of the Chickasaw Indians. But they had not yet found gold; neither had the Indians golden ornaments. They were poor, but loved freedom. When spring came, and De Soto demanded from them an escort to carry the baggage of his soldiers, the Indians set fire to his camp, and their fierce war-whoop rang through the night and amid the flames.

The Spaniards lost here the clothing and the stores which had been saved from the fires of Mavilla. They were now as naked as their Indian enemies, and they suffered from cold and hunger; but with his difficulties increased the pride and obstinacy of De Soto. Was it for him, who had promised to conquer the treasures of the world, to return with half-naked men despoiled of their all?