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Cofachiqui: An Indian Princess Of Historic Legend
by
A man of few words but of inflexible purpose, the soldiers knew only too well the uselessness of entreating him further and putting aside their emotional appreciation of Cofachiqui’s kindness, even while accepting all that she gave them, set to work and secretly discovered the burial place of her people, and robbed it not only of figures of babies and birds made of iridescent shells, but also of three hundred and fifty weight of pearls. Then, fired with the lust of possession, and having found out that Cofachiqui’s widowed mother, who lived in retirement forty miles down the river, was the owner of many fine pearls, De Soto at once began to plan to get her in his power. Of this he gave no hint to the princess, but pretended, in his long daily conversations with her, that he was her loyal friend, and his only aim was peace so long as he and his men should be in her territory. At the same time he suggested casually to Cofachiqui, who was still somewhat under the spell of his magnetic personality, (although now not altogether unconscious of the selfish deeds done to her people in his name) that perhaps her mother would enjoy coming up to Yupaha to meet his people who were unlike any she had ever known, also to see the wonderful animals they rode,–for the fine horses of the Spanish cavalrymen were the greatest admiration of the Indians. To his suggestion Cofachiqui gave a pleasant assent, and at once De Soto’s message was conveyed to the Queen’s mother by a young Indian who had been brought up as the elder woman’s own son. But the Queen’s mother had lived longer, and had a broader knowledge of the world and of the treachery of the white man than had her daughter, and instead of accepting the invitation in the spirit in which it was apparently given, she sent a sharp reproof to Cofachiqui for having allowed strangers about whom she knew nothing to invade her capital.
The news was duly brought to De Soto, who set his firm lips more firmly still, and then ordered one of his officers, Juan de Anasco, to take with him thirty men and start at once for the dwelling-place of the Queen’s mother, and force her not only to see them, but also to return with them to the camp. On hearing this, the princess argued with him as to the uselessness of the expedition. “My mother,” she said, “is of a firm will and tenacious purpose. Had she been willing to see you, she would have come at once. Do not urge her.”
But De Soto spoke in a tone of firm command, telling her that she must supply a guide for the expedition, and with no further sign of reluctance Cofachiqui again commissioned the young Indian, of whom her mother was so fond, to lead the strangers forth, hoping that the lad’s coming would make a stronger appeal to her mother than all the force that could be used.
When the young fellow stood equipped for the journey, receiving his instructions from Cofachiqui, he was so strikingly handsome, both in face and stalwart figure, that even the Spaniards could not but note it. On his back was strung a magnificent bow as tall as he, and a quiver full of arrows, his mantle was of finest softest deerskin and on his head was set a coronet of rare feathers.
That evening the party set out, and on the following day when the sun was high, stopped to rest under a spreading clump of trees, and as the Spaniards lounged in the refreshingly cool spot, the young guide sat apart, not entering into the gaiety of his comrades, but with his head bent in his hands, in apparently deep and melancholy reverie. Then rousing with a start, he threw himself down beside the others and began to show them the arrows with which his quiver was filled, and the Spaniards examined them with eager interest and surprise, for they were gems of carving and of polish, and each one was different from the other. While the soldiers’ attention was thus centred, the young Indian gave a quick glance at them, then suddenly he drew out a dagger-edged flint head, plunged it into his throat and fell at their feet. With cries of horror they bent over him, but it was too late. The cut had severed an artery and life was already gone from the noble form.