unsubdued. Nine years later he attempted to plant a colony in Florida;
the Indians attacked him fiercely; he was mortally wounded, and died
soon afterward in Cuba.

The voyages of Garay and Vasquez de Ayllon threw new light on the
discoveries of Ponce, and the general outline of the coasts of Florida
became known to the Spaniards. Meanwhile, Cortes had conquered Mexico,
and the fame of that iniquitous but magnificent exploit rang through
all Spain. Many an impatient cavalier burned to achieve a kindred
fortune. To the excited fancy of the Spaniards the unknown land of
Florida seemed the seat of surpassing wealth, and Pamphilo de Narvaez
essayed to possess himself of its fancied treasures. Landing on its
shores, and proclaiming destruction to the Indians unless they
acknowledged the sovereignty of the Pope and the Emperor, he advanced
into the forests with three hundred men. Nothing could exceed their
sufferings. Nowhere could they find the gold they came to seek. The
village of Appalache, where they hoped to gain a rich booty, offered
nothing but a few mean wigwams. The horses gave out, and the famished
soldiers fed upon their flesh. The men sickened, and the Indians
unceasingly harassed their march. At length, after 280 leagues of
wandering, they found themselves on the northern shore of the Gulf of
Mexico, and desperately put to sea in such crazy boats as their skill
and means could construct. Cold, disease, famine, thirst, and the fury
of the waves melted them away. Narvaez himself perished, and of his
wretched followers no more than four escaped, reaching by land, after
years of vicissitude, the Christian settlements of New Spain.

The interior of the vast country then comprehended under the name of
Florida still remained unexplored. The Spanish voyager, as his caravel
plowed the adjacent seas, might give full scope to his imagination,