Above all, it was plain to their excited fancy that the country was rich
in gold and silver, turquoises and pearls. One of the latter, "as great as
an Acorne at ye least," hung from the neck of an Indian who stood near
their boats as they reëmbarked. They gathered, too, from the signs of
their savage visitors, that the wonderful land of Cibola, with its seven
cities and its untold riches, was distant but twenty days' journey by
water. In truth, it was on the Gila, two thousand miles off, and its
wealth a fable.

They named the river the River of May,--it is now the St. John's,--and on
its southern shore, near its mouth, planted a stone pillar graven with the
arms of France. Then, once more embarked, they held their course
northward, happy in that benign decree which locks from mortal eyes the
secrets of the future.

Next they anchored near Fernandina, and to a neighboring river, probably
the St. Mary's, gave the name of the Seine. Here, as morning broke on the
fresh, moist meadows hung with mists, and on broad reaches of inland
waters which seemed like lakes, they were tempted to land again, and soon
"espied an innumerable number of footesteps of great Hartes and Hindes of
a wonderfull greatnesse, the steppes being all fresh and new, and it
seemeth that the people doe nourish them like tame Cattell." By two or
three weeks of exploration they seem to have gained a clear idea of this
rich semi-aquatic region. Ribaut describes it as "a countrie full of
hauens riuers and Ilands of such fruitfulnes, as cannot with tongue be
expressed." Slowly moving northward, they named each river, or inlet
supposed to be a river, after the streams of France,--the Loire, the
Charente, the Garonne, the Gironde. At length, they reached a scene made
glorious in after-years. Opening betwixt flat and sandy shores, they saw a