hey therefore "buried him
silently at dead of night." Sentinels were carefully posted to prevent
the approach of any of the natives. A few torches lighted the
procession to a sandy plain near the encampment, where his body was
interred, with no salute fired over his grave or even any dirge
chanted by the attendant priests. The ground was carefully smoothed
over so as to obliterate as far as possible all traces of the burial.

The better to conceal his death, word was given out the next morning
that he was much better, and a joyous festival was arranged in honor
of his convalescence. Still the natives were not deceived. They
suspected that he was dead, and even guessed the place of his burial.
This was indicated by the fact that they frequently visited the spot,
looking around with great interest, and talking together with much
volubility.

One mode of revenge adopted by the natives was to disinter the body of
an enemy and expose the remains to every species of insult. It was
feared that as soon as the Spaniards should have withdrawn from the
region, the body of De Soto might be found and exposed to similar
outrages. It was therefore decided to take up the remains and sink it
in the depths of the river.

In the night, Juan De Anasco, with one or two companions, embarked in
a canoe, and, by sounding, found a place in the channel of the river
nearly a hundred and twenty feet deep. They cut down an evergreen oak,
whose wood is almost as solid and heavy as lead, gouged out a place in
it sufficiently large to receive the body, and nailed over the top a
massive plank. The body, thus placed in its final coffin, was taken at
midnight to the centre of the river, where it immediately sank to its
deep burial. The utmost silence was preserved, and every precaution
adopted to conceal the movement from all but those engaged in the
enterprise.

"The discoverer of the Mississippi," writes the Inca, "slept
beneath its waters. He had crossed a large part of the
continent in search of gold, and found nothing so remarkable
as his burial-place."

Upon the death of De Soto, a council of war was held to decide what to
do in the new attitude of affairs. In their exhausted state, and with
their diminished numbers, they could not think of attempting a march
back for hundreds of leagues through hostile nations, to Tampa Bay. It
would take a long time to build their brigantines and to await an
arrival from Cuba. In the meanti