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The early history of America has few romantic tales of love and devotion, but there is one woven in with the history of the settlement of Buenos Ayres, the modern Argentina, which is told by all the historians of the time, and which exists as the one striking love romance of the Spanish conquest. It has been doubted, it is true, but it will not to do to dismiss all the chivalrous tales of the past on the plea that historical critics have questioned them.

It may not be generally known to our readers that the man who explored and took possession of the great rivers of Buenos Ayres for Spain was Sebastian Cabot, he who, many years before, had with his father discovered North America in the service of England. It was in the year 1526 that he sailed up the noble river which he named the Rio de la Plata, a name suggested by the bars of silver which he obtained from the Indians on its banks. Sailing some hundred miles up the Paraguay River, he built at the mouth of the river Zarcaranna a stronghold which he named the Fort of the Holy Ghost. Some three years later Cabot set sail for Spain, leaving Nuno de Lara as commander of this fort, with a garrison of one hundred and twenty men.

These historical details are important, as a necessary setting for the love-romance which followed the founding of this fort. Lara, being left with his handful of men as the only whites in a vast territory peopled with Indians, felt strongly that in his situation prudence was the better part of valor, and strove to cultivate friendly relations with the nearest and most powerful of these tribes, the Timbuez. His success in this brought about, in an unexpected manner, his death and the loss of the fort, with other evils in their train.

The tragedy came on in this way: Sebastian Hurtado, one of Lara’s principal officers, had brought with him his wife, Lucia Miranda, a Spanish lady of much beauty and purity of soul. During the frequent visits which Mangora, the cacique of the Timbuez, paid to the fort, he saw this lady and became enamoured of her charms, so deeply that he could not conceal the evidence of his love.

Miranda was not long in observing the ardent looks of the Indian chief and in understanding their significance, and the discovery filled her with dread and alarm. Knowing how important it was for the commandant to keep on good terms with this powerful chief, and fearing that she might be sacrificed to this policy, she did her utmost to keep out of his sight, and also to guard against any surprise or violence, not knowing to what extremes the passion of love might lead an Indian.

Mangora, on his part, laid covert plans to get the fair lady out of the fort, and with this in view pressed Hurtado to pay him a visit and bring his wife with him. This the Spaniard was loath to do, for Miranda had told him of her fears, and he suspected the Indian’s design. With a policy demanded by the situation, he declined the invitations of the chief, on the plea that a Castilian soldier could not leave his post of duty without permission from his commander, and that honor forbade him to ask that permission except to fight his enemies.

The wily chief was not duped by this reply. He saw that Hurtado suspected his purpose, and the removal of the husband seemed to him a necessary step for its accomplishment. While seeking to devise a plan for this, he learned, to his great satisfaction, that Hurtado and another officer, with fifty soldiers, had left the fort on an expedition to collect provisions, of which a supply was needed.