om his embarrassment, gladly
released them.

On the other hand, the tricky interpreter sent word to the Cacique
that the men who had robbed him were in close imprisonment, and that
they would be punished with the utmost severity, so as to serve as a
warning to all others.

Many circumstances led De Soto to the suspicion that the chief was
acting a treacherous part; that he was marshalling an immense army in
the vicinity to attack the Spaniards; that his pretended friendliness
was intended merely to disarm suspicion, and that the warriors who
visited the village were spies, making preparation for a general
assault. In this judgment subsequent events proved him to be correct.

Early in the month of March there was a dark and stormy night, and a
chill north wind swept the bleak plains. The sentinels were driven to
seek shelter; no one dreamed of peril. It was the hour for the grand
assault. Just at midnight the Cacique put his martial bands in motion.
They were in three powerful divisions, the central party being led by
the chief in person. These moccasoned warriors, with noiseless tread,
stealthily approached their victims. Suddenly the air resounded with
war-whoops, blasts of conch shells, and the clangor of wooden drums,
rising above the roar of the storm, when the savages, like spirits of
darkness, rushed upon the defenceless village. They bore with them
lighted matches, made of some combustible substance twisted in the
form of a cord, which, being waved in the air, would blaze into flame.
The village was built of reeds, with thatch of dried grass. The torch
was everywhere applied; the gale fanned the fire. In a few minutes the
whole village was a roaring furnace of flame.

What pen can describe the scene which ensued of tumult, terror, blood,
and woe! What imagination can conceive of the horrors of that night,
when uncounted thousands of savages, fierce as demons, rushed upon the
steel-clad veterans of Spain, not one of whom would ask for quarter!
every one of whom would fight with sinewy arm and glittering sabre to
the last possible gasp.

Nothing could throw the veteran Spaniards into a panic. They always
slept prepared for surprise. In an instant every man was at his post.
De Soto, who always slept in hose and doublet, drew his armor around
him, mounted his steed ever ready, and was one of the first to dash
into the densest of the foe. Twelve armored horsemen were immediately
at his side. The arrows and javel