Silently, but with much ostentation, they ride upon the public square beneath the wide-spreading oaks. At a given signal, all dismount. A canopy underspread with rich matting, had been prepared for DeSoto and the chief. They slowly repair thereto and are seated. With the suddenness of a flash, Tuskaloosa leaps to his feet, his eye glittering with pent-up anger, and in stentorian tones he demands that he receive the honor due him within his own walls, and that he be no longer treated as a common prisoner. DeSoto is taken quite off his guard. He is as silent as the tomb. An awful hush falls suddenly on the scene. Wheeling on his heel, the indignant monarch steps forth and leisurely retires to one of the buildings. DeSoto, usually very resourceful, is now at his wits' end. Hoping to placate the stormy chief, he sends an invitation to join him at breakfast, but the offer is not only sternly declined, but Tuskaloosa notifies the Spaniard that the sooner he betakes himself without his dominions, the better it will be for him. A crisis had come and DeSoto must face it. BATTLE OF MAUBILA Signs now grow more ominous and rapidly, and DeSoto begins to fear the worst. This is his greatest dilemma. He would avoid a clash if he could, and fight only if he must. The occasion has become tense, and he thinks and plans fast. The Indians have largely vanished from sight in rather a mysterious way, and those now huddled on the square are in close conference. A Spanish spy whispers to DeSoto that a thousand warriors, well armed, are concentrated in one of the large buildings, while in another is a large supply of Indian munitions of war. The crisis is graver than he had apprehended. The Spaniard dreaded Indian treachery the more because it might exceed that of his own. That which he has just learned is startling, and shows that he has not been mistaken in his suspicions.