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Gold was the beacon that lured the Spaniards to America, and dazzling stories were told by them of the riches of the countries they explored, stories illustrated by the marvellous wealth of Peru. It was well known that Cortez had not obtained all the treasures of Montezuma, or Pizarro all those of Atahualpa, and many believed that these treasures had been carried far away by the servants of those unhappy monarchs. Guiana, the northeastern section of South America, was looked upon by the Spanish adventurers as the hiding-place of this fabulous wealth. Others fancied that Guiana was the true El Dorado in itself, a land marvellously rich in gold, silver, and precious stones. Gonzalo Pizarro, in his expedition in 1540, had heard much from the Indians of this land of wealth, and Orellana brought back from his famous descent of the Amazon marvellous stories of the riches in gold, silver, and precious stones of the land of the north.

These stories, once set afloat, grew in wonder and magnitude through pure love of the marvellous or wild expansion of the fanciful tales of the Indians. Far inland, built on a lofty hill, so the fable ran, was a mighty city, whose very street watering-troughs were made of solid gold and silver, while “billets of gold lay about in heaps, as if they were logs of wood marked out to burn.”

In this imperial city dwelt in marvellous magnificence a mighty king. The legend went that it was a habit of his to cover his body with turpentine and then roll in gold-dust till he gleamed like a veritable golden image. Then, entering his barge of state, with a retinue of nobles whose dresses glittered with gems, they would sail around a beautiful lake, ending their tour by a bath in the cooling waters.

Where was this city? Who had seen its gold-emblazoned king? Certainly none of those who went in search of it or its monarch. Of the Spanish adventurers who sought for that land of treasure, the most persistent was a bold explorer named Berreo, who landed in New Granada, and set out thence with a large body of followers–seven hundred horsemen, the story goes. His route lay along the river Negro, and then down the broad Orinoco. Boats were built for the descent of this great stream. But the route was difficult and exhausting and the natives usually hostile, and as they went on many of the men and horses died or were slain.

For more than a year these sturdy explorers pushed on, reaching a point from which, if they could believe the natives, the city they sought was not far away, and Guiana and its riches were near at hand. As evidence, the Indians had treasure of their own to show, and gave Berreo “ten images of fine gold, which were so curiously wrought, as he had not seen the like in Italy, Spain, or the Low Countries.” But as they went on the gallant seven hundred became reduced to a weary fraction, and these so eager to return home that their leader was forced to give up the quest. He sought the island of Trinidad, near the coast of South America, and there, as governor, he dwelt for years, keeping alive in his soul the dream of some day going again in search of El Dorado.

While Berreo was thus engaged, there dwelt in England a man of romantic and adventurous nature named Walter Raleigh. He became afterwards famous as Sir Walter Raleigh, and for many years devoted himself to the attempt to plant an English colony on the coast of North America. On this project he spent much time and money, but ill-fortune haunted him and all his colonies failed. Then he concluded to cross the ocean himself and restore his wasted wealth by preying on the Spanish treasure-ships, after the fashion of the bold Sir Francis Drake. But Queen Elizabeth put an end to this project by clapping him in prison, on a matter of royal jealousy. While one of the queen’s lovers, he had dared to marry another woman.