While the exciting scenes of the tourney were being witnessed on Tlacopan'stianguez, events of an entirely different nature were transpiring in the palace of Maxtla, at Azcapozalco. The embassy, consisting of three prominent persons and their attendants, which had been sent to him with the ultimatum of the allied principalities, arrived at his capital in great pomp the day preceding the one on which they were instructed to present it.
The envoys were royally entertained, as was the custom, by fete and feast, and made to feel that they were guests of a great monarch.
The nature of their mission was not known beyond the three representatives, nor was it expected to be until officially announced. Maxtla had not the slightest idea as to the significance of it.
In the forenoon of the day following their arrival at the palace, and about the time of the opening of the tourney at Tlacopan, an audience was granted the envoys; and, in the presence of the king and his counselors, the embassy's mission was made known, and the conditions of the ultimatum presented.
Maxtla was astounded and exasperated by what seemed to him the audacity of his petty neighbors. He, however, held his feelings partially under subjection. With all his fierceness and cruelty of disposition he was politic and cunning. He saw, as he thought, in the action of Tlacopan and her allies, a pretense for advancing his interests in that direction—the very thing he had been scheming to bring about, and shaped his course accordingly.
His reply to the envoys was to the effect that the action of the governments they represented was an insult, not only to his own dignity as a monarch, but that of his great empire. Tezcuco, he said, was his by conquest, and would not be relinquished except by force of arms. The enthronement of the despised Hualcoyotl, he further said, would be resisted to the last extremity.
"Go back to your masters," said he, "and say to them that we scorn their implied threats, and will resent the insult they have offered us with the whole force of our empire."
Maxtla's reply to the conditions of the ultimatum was equivalent to a declaration of war, and as such the embassy interpreted it.
Every respect was shown the envoys and their suit; and, when they departed from the Tepanec capital, they were escorted with due courtesy beyond the city's confines.
In a very short time after their departure the word went abroad throughout Maxtla's dominions that a war was imminent. His scattered forces began immediately to concentrate, and orders were issued for new levies to be made on Tezcuco and his other dependencies for additional troops.
In due time the couriers returned from Tezcuco with the startling intelligence that all the Tezcucans proper, who were subject to military duty, had gone to attend the tourney at Tlacopan, leaving only his own adherents available for immediate service.
Maxtla was thunderstruck at this information, for he saw in it the secret of Tlacopan's temerity. His eyes were opened to the fact that he had been outwitted by somebody, and that Tezcuco was about to slip away from him. His anticipations of an easy conquest of the little states opposed to him assumed a somewhat doubtful aspect, and instead of an extended empire he saw before him a struggle to maintain his supremacy over his already acquired territory. Realizing that celerity of action was imperative, if he would succeed, no time was lost in getting ready for the strife.
The circumstances attending the situation pointed to Tezcuco as the probable field of contention, and troops were therefore sent forward to that locality as rapidly as organization was effected.
While Maxtla was marshaling his hosts for war, Macua and his confederates were not idle at Tlacopan.
When the concourse of people, which had assembled to witness the tourney, quietly melted away at its close, preparations were at once begun to get the allied armies into a condition of mobility. It was not expected that Maxtla would accede to the demands made in the ultimatum, so the work of organization went on.
In the evening of the same day on which the embassy had audience with Maxtla, advance couriers reached Tlacopan with his reply. Its import was anticipated, but definite action could not be taken before it arrived.
Orders were immediately issued for the armies to be ready to move for concentration the next morning. It was no longer a secret that war was to be waged with the Tepanec king, and great excitement and bustle prevailed on the heels of the tournament. The excitement was of the profound and solemn sort which is peculiar to preparations preceding a sanguinary strife for supremacy between opposing armies, especially with a semi-civilized people. The priests were actively engaged in their incitations to self-immolation by ceremonies accompanied with dolefully tuned cantations, causing a weirdness to pervade the very heart of the multitude, which brought a hush of awe upon the scene, giving it an aspect at once ominous and funereal.
All through the fore part of the night following the tournament the secret councils of Tezcuco were moving in a disorganized but orderly procession away from Tlacopan, going to the place of armament. When the morning dawned, an army of them might have been seen massed on the border of lake Tezcuco, east of the city. Some of them were already armed, while others were arming, preparatory to marching for concentration.
The armies of the nations of Anahuac were, to say the least, picturesque, and, from a historical standpoint, worthy of a brief description.
The higher grades of warriors—caciques, chiefs, etc.—wore, as a protection to the body, a heavy, quilted, cotton tunic, over which was usually thrown and fastened their superbly eleganttilmatli—mantle of featherwork. Their legs, in most cases, were protected by leggings made from various kinds of material, and elaborately fringed with trimmings of gold and silver, or other bright substance. Short boots, made from animal skin, or close fitting moccasins encased their feet. Their headgear was varied in character, often representing the head of some animal, a fish or other object. The more grotesque and hideous it was made to appear, the nearer was its purpose attained. However, the indispensable feather decorations generally prevailed.
It is quite safe to venture the assertion that the dress of the lords of Anahuac was not only gorgeously grotesque, but truly magnificent; while, on the other hand, the uniform of the common soldiers was strikingly undress, consisting, as it did, for the most part, of a plain gird about the loins, and a band of some kind to confine the hair—nothing more. There may have been exceptions to this airiness of apparel, but, as a rule, not enough to place the very convenient costume in danger of being superseded by a more elaborate and less airy one.
The principal arms used by them in battle were the bow and arrow and javelin. They were also provided with sling and dart. These instruments of warfare were pointed with either copper, bone, or obsidian (itztli, a transparent mineral substance, very hard, and capable of being reduced to the sharpness of a razor).
The Indian sword (maquahuitl) was a heavy staff, on which were inserted, at regular intervals, short, sharp blades of obsidian. This weapon was used by the principal warriors.
The ensemble of an army consisted of battalions, divisions and grand divisions. The first named numbered four or five hundred warriors; the second, six or eight thousand; and the last, proportionately larger; each division and subdivision being under the command of a proper official—cacique, or chief. At the head of each organization was borne an appropriate banner, on which was usually to be seen the insignia of the commandant; while the national standard—the armorial ensign of the ruling house—usually indicated the position of the person in command—great chief.
The ancient standard of Tezcuco was once more unfurled to the breeze, and her patriotic hosts stood organized, and ready to receive their prince.
Hualcoyotl, accompanied by a retinue of chosen warriors, among whom were our friends Euetzin and Cacami, both having been generously remembered by the prince in the distribution of honors, was advancing to assume command. When discovered by the army, and recognized, they were received with the acclamation: "Hualcoyotl! Hualcoyotl! Long live Hualcoyotl and Euetzin!" The latter was regarded for his untiring efforts in behalf of Tezcuco's independence as being entitled to all the honor due to any Tezcucan living, and his people were ready at all times to accord it.
The hour was a proud one to the two young men: To Euetzin in view of the crowning of his labors with the grand military display which was there spread out before him; to the prince for the opportunity which placed him in position to meet his cruel persecutor on equal footing, where he could demand, at the point of the javelin, his rights as the Prince of Tezcuco. He spoke as follows:
"Warriors, men of Tezcuco: after many years of degradation and enslavement, you are again permitted to stand beneath your own loved banner, which was once the delight of our fathers and the pride of our nation. It has been trailing in the dirt for long; but your determined look assures me that it will no longer be thus dishonored. There is no need for me, as your commander, to say, stand firm in the cause of liberty, for I read upon your faces the will to do or die. Then let us waste no time until Maxtla and his hordes have been met and brought to feel the avenging power of wronged Tezcuco's arm. Let our war cry be—"
"Hualcoyotl and victory! Hualcoyotl and victory!"
The words which the prince would have spoken were left unsaid, and the acclamation with which he was interrupted passed like a wave from right to left, and back again. When quiet was restored, he only said:
"As you will, and may your victory be complete."
The order was given to march, and the army of patriotic Tezcucans was quickly in motion, and on its way to join the allied armies at the place of rendezvous.
To strike the confederate armies Maxtla was obliged to march all his forces around the north end of lake Tezcuco, and south through Tezcucan territory, as the possessions of the Mexican king were on the west, and could not be crossed except in disregard of the laws of neutrality. It therefore required several days for him to get his army into position for taking the offensive.
A day or two after the allied armies began to move, they were united on the borders of Tezcuco, south of its capital city. The combined army was formed in a hollow square, to receive its commanding general. A procession approached, which was led by an escort composed of men who were peculiarly dressed. They were dressed more like hunters than warriors. In the rear of the escort a palanquin was borne by four men who were dressed in the same manner as was the escort. When the square was reached the escort halted, and the chair was borne forward into the inclosed space.
Six men walked in front of the palanquin, in five of whom we would have recognized Hualcoyotl, Macua, tzin Euet, and the other two ruling caciques. The dress of the sixth person was the same as that worn by the men in the escort, with the addition of atilmatli. A closer scrutiny would have made us acquainted with his identity, for in him we would have found an estimable friend. It was Tezcot. He was the chief of the escort which was composed of his friends, the mountaineers. The reason for their being there in the capacity they were will be presented later.
When the center of the closely packed square was gained the palanquin was placed on the ground, and the occupant emerged from it. Hualcoyotl advanced to his side, and, in a strong voice, addressed the army:
"Warriors, friends: When the good king, who was the father of him who now addresses you, ruled the people of Tezcuco, he was surrounded by wise men and great generals. Many of them shared his fate, which was death at the hands of the despoilers of our country. One of them, however, a wise man and great warrior, who was counted lost, escaped from Tezcuco, and became an unknown refugee. By the stipulations of coalition, under which this army is organized, I should be its commander; but, for the good of our cause, I put aside personal ambition and the honor the high position would confer upon me, and will name as your commander Ixtlilchoatl, the great warrior, to whom I have just alluded, who for more than eight years has been living alone in a fastness on yonder mountains, and known to the mountaineers as Ix, the hermit. Warriors, in this wise man, who has returned to his own," continued the prince, taking the hermit by the arm, "behold your general. Long live Ixtlilchoatl!"
The acclamation, with which the prince concluded, was taken up by the army, and vociferated with a will, when it again became still.
"For this day I have prayed," spoke Ix. "Not that I might stand where I do at this moment, but that Tezcuco might find friends to help her in a mighty effort to regain her freedom. To you, who are allied with us to-day in the cause of liberty, my heart goes out in gratitude. Our people will remember you in kindness always, no matter what may be their condition. I have faith in the patriotism of this great army, and trust in its might. Be firm when the shock of strife shall come, and the victory will be yours."
When Ix concluded, he reentered the palanquin and was borne back whence he came. At the same time the armies began to move for the purpose of taking up their respective positions, to wait for the advancing host of Maxtla to offer them battle.
In order to make plain certain things which have come under our notice in the last two chapters, it will be necessary for us to go back to Tezcot's, and the hermit's cave, and note the doings of our mountain friends in the interim between the departure from there of Euetzin and Cacami and the holding of the tournament at Tlacopan.
Mitla became a changed girl. She had lived to learn that older hearts than Oxie's were liable to impressions that wound, and that to fall in love with a noble was, indeed, a serious matter for a mere mountain girl to do. Her formerly bright and joyous life was clouded. She went about her duties with a half-heartedness, and seemed most contented when alone. Her parents and sister divined the cause of the great change in her disposition, and left her to occupy the time as best suited her. Knowing so well her generous nature, and how deep was her gratitude to the tzin for her rescue from the rascally Tepanec soldiers, they were not surprised that her feelings toward him had become those of a consuming passion. They treated her with true sympathy, deeply regretting the circumstances which had led to her unfortunate condition of mind.
Tezcot became an almost constant companion of the prince and Ix, and appeared to have lost all interest in his hunting exploits.
The management of the surveillance over the hermitage, which had been established for the protection of the prince, had been intrusted to Menke, who performed the duty faithfully, securing the vicinity of the cavern-retreat from intrusion.
The prince, on being introduced to the hermitage, thought he saw something familiar about its mysterious occupant, and, becoming interested, finally discovered who he was. He was at a loss to understand why the hermit, for several days, persistently avoided all allusions to himself, unless it was to satisfy a whim. The fact of the matter was that Ix wished to fathom the character and disposition of the prince before openly declaring himself. When he found Hualcoyotl to be a worthy son of his illustrious father, the hermit gave him his cordial adherence and valuable counsel.
It is true that Ix gave the prince and tzin his invaluable assistance on the occasion of the latter's first visit to the hermitage; and it was he that inserted certain signs and language in the document which Euetzin bore away with him, that assured the king of Tlacopan of its genuineness, and secured his confidence in the bearer. Of this, however, the prince and tzin were not aware at the time.
Though only a boy, with no particular interest in government affairs, when his father's sovereignty was so suddenly and disastrously terminated, the prince remembered Ixtlilchoatl as a person who stood high in the councils of the king. His discovery of so wise and experienced an adherent was highly gratifying to him, for he felt that he needed just such a man to give him counsel. So, after due consideration, he decided to make him his supervisor of military affairs, which, subsequently, led to his being placed in command of the allied armies.
Tezcot was taken into the secret of Ix's identity, which brought an acknowledgment from him as to his own nativity. He was a descendant of the Acolhuans, whose gentle nature he inherited, though not a born Tezcucan. The prince and Ix welcomed him to their councils, and he became an almost daily participant in their deliberations.
Hualcoyotl had always been of a thoughtful turn of mind, and, as an occupant of a lonely hermit's cave, could scarcely have been expected to put aside a habit which had become a characteristic. In the hours of restraint which he was compelled to endure he might have been found often in a state of abstraction, when visions of future weal, and, perhaps, exaltation to the high position which his royal ancestors had filled, would occupy his thoughts. In these absent moods, which were only waking dreams, it was natural that his favorites should be brought into an imaginary existence, to give to his fancies a semblance of reality. Who but Itlza, of Zelmonco, could have shared his dreamings as a queen, the partner of his fancied exaltation, since the affectionate regard of his boyhood for her had, through a later contact, suddenly developed into a passionate desire to possess her for his own. And now that there was reason to hope for the early restoration of Tezcuco to her former place among the nations of Anahuac, this desire was further strengthened by the possibilities to which such a state of affairs would give rise.
On the occasion of his brief stop at Zelmonco villa, while journeying toward the mountains, he resolved, as may be remembered, that, should the circumstances warranting it ever obtain, she should become his queen; and the resolution had lost none of its force, but, on the other hand, had become a fixed purpose. So it happened that the drifting of events, and the conditions attending them, pointed to the wrecking of somebody's hopes, which, apparently, only waited a convenient season for their realization.
Successful beyond his most sanguine expectations in the achievements which crowned his second visit to Macua, King of Tlacopan, on which occasion he found himself a conspicuous figure in the midst of an assembly of men high in authority, who only required the encouragement of a promise of success to make them the determined allies of Tezcuco in a war with Maxtla, Euetzin's first impulse was to go immediately and communicate the good news to the prince; but, after calmly weighing the matter, changed his mind, and proceeded first to arrange for the massing and equipping of the secret councils of Tezcuco preparatory to their joining the allied army. When this work was about completed he left the chiefs of councils to finish it, and, with Cacami and a strong guard of Tlacopan soldiers, set out with a view to escorting Hualcoyotl in from the mountains. At the same time he carried an urgent request from Macua, the King, for the prince to repair to his palace, to remain the guest of his majesty until the beginning of hostilities, when he could take his proper position at the head of the army.
On arriving in the vicinity of Tezcot's, a suitable spot was found for an encampment, and the soldiers were left to occupy it, while the tzin and his companion went on to the hunter's alone.
The friends arrived at the mountaineer's house in the afternoon, and, as luck would have it, found the hunter at home. They were received in a very friendly manner by the family, and made to feel that they were most welcome. Mitla was not so demonstrative as the others, but not less happy that such was the case. She could suppress all outward exhibition of her feelings, but could not obscure the passionate light which shone from her dark eyes as they rested on him whom she loved to the verge of idolatry. Euetzin saw the expression of gladness, intense in its fervidness, which greeted him, and, while Cacami occupied the attention of the rest of the family, found opportunity to say:
"I read my welcome in your eyes, Mitla, which are wonderfully bright to-day, and full of gladness. Their language is better than words, for words are sometimes deceptive."
"My eyes would always betray my feelings, yet I do not care now, for I would have you know how truly glad I am that you are here," she replied, the expression of pleasure deepening, if possible, in its intensity.
"I am glad if I bring you pleasure. It is worth a longer journey than we have made to see you looking so happy," he returned.
"I wish that words were not sometimes deceptive," she replied, putting a marked stress on the expression which she borrowed from him, "then would I, indeed, be happy at hearing you say that."
"You do not doubt my sincerity, Mitla?" he questioned, slightly confused at having his own words applied to himself.
"No, I do not doubt your sincerity; at least, not your desire to be so—that would be ungenerous; yet I can not help feeling that your desire to give me pleasure causes you to say what your mind, not your heart, suggests." This was said, accompanied by an appealing look which the tzin could not fail to observe. He said, feelingly:
"I am very, very sorry that you feel so, for nothing that I can say will make you feel differently." These words were true, and yet not true. Doubting, as he did, the character of the sentiment which her presence ever inspired, honor still forbade the utterance of the declaration which would have made them untrue, yet the declaration might have been consistently made. It was doubt alone, then, which made them true.
"I am sure you speak truly, and that you will be generous in your thoughts, forgiving a feeling in me which is beyond my control," she said, giving him a look at once tristful and yearning.
"I shall not try to controvert your feelings, for they may be just," he answered, kindly. "But, Mitla, I must be about my business. Our stay must be very short on the mountains; the time allowed us for coming and returning will not admit of an hour's extension. However, I will try to find a little time in which to talk with you before we go away." Her answer to this was an approving smile; and the tzin turned to Tezcot and informed him as to the object of their mission, and the necessity of its hasty accomplishment. The hunter was quick to appreciate the situation, and immediately set about getting ready to accompany them to the hermit's cave.
Passing over the explanations which followed the party's arrival at the cavern, and the arrangements which led up to the situation as we left it at Tlacopan, except to say that Euetzin and Cacami learned with astonishment and pleasure the true character of the hermit, and rejoiced with Hualcoyotl in view of the prospective restoration to Tezcuco of her great general.
All saw the importance of Ix's presence, and as well that of the prince, at Tlacopan, and not a moment was lost in getting ready to leave the hermitage.
Ix was loth to part from his friend Tezcot, who had done him uncounted acts of kindness, and relieved many of his lonely hours with his presence. He conceived the idea of forming a bodyguard for himself, and proposed that his friend should be made its chief. The project was warmly seconded by the prince and tzin, and pressed so earnestly by all, that the hunter finally yielded, with the proviso, however, that his friends, the mountaineers, should be asked to form the guard. This was agreed to, which resulted in the acquiescence of the hunters, and their appearance with the army, as we have seen.
The friends left the hermitage with varied emotions, which we will not try to interpret. They went slowly down the side of the mountain into the long ravine, thence out upon a more cheerful lay of the ground, where they found the walking more to their liking. They were in no hurry to reach the hunter's home; for darkness, they decided, should cover their entrance to it.
A half hour after the arrival of the party at Tezcot's found Cacami on his way to the camp of the soldiers to inform them of the intended early departure for the valley on the morrow; and also to make a detail of men to be at the hunter's at an early hour in the morning, to bear the palanquin in which the hermit was to make the journey. At the same time Euetzin and Mitla were out for a quiet talk. They were just approaching the little knoll where their last meeting occurred some weeks before, and he was saying:
"This spot would presently become memorable to us if our meetings on it should be continued."
"Yes, and you might add, for me, at least, not less endeared than memorable," she replied.
"I shall take pleasure in looking back to it, be assured, Mitla, and will try to imagine that I see you seated upon it in quiet happiness," he said, as they were sitting down. "And I am going to ask that you will permit your thoughts to occasionally dwell upon this hour, and that other; for, Mitla, I wish to be remembered."
"Can it be, tzin Euet, that you deem it possible for me to forget you, though a cycle in years were added to my natural life? How little do you understand the heart of woman, especially mine, so full of undying gratitude," returned the stricken maiden, her voice suddenly subsiding in a hush of sadness; for his words told her that the door of his heart was still shut against her.
"You say truly, Mitla; I am, indeed, incapable of understanding the heart of woman, or I would not be continually saying things which should be left unsaid. I know very well that for either of us to forget is an impossibility; for, to do so, it would be necessary to forget an incident, the terrible circumstances of which are indelibly fixed upon each of our memories. You must forgive my blundering, and believe me truly regretful, Mitla, that I am so thoughtless of speech," said he, contritely.
"There is nothing to forgive. I am foolishly sensitive, that is all," she answered, with a sigh. "Forget it."
"No, Mitla, I shall not forget it," he replied, "but will only let it pass, to be a reminder, in the future, that I must guard my tongue."
"As you please, but, pray, do not allow it to annoy you," she returned, with an effort at cheerfulness.
Seeing the effort, and thinking to encourage it, the tzin said:
"Now you appear more like yourself—more like the Mitla I first knew. Cheerfulness is natural to you, and you should continually court its presence, for its absence leaves you a loser."
"I am sorry if it does, for I fear it has forever gone from me," she answered, falling into the same sad vein again.
"I can tell you, Mitla, what will restore your cheerfulness," suddenly spoke the tzin, as if a happy thought had just then come to him, which caused her to look up expectantly. "Come with your father to Tlacopan, and shoot for the archers' prize, which the king has offered."
"On what occasion is the prize to be awarded? I am not informed," she questioned.
"That is true; you could hardly have heard it. There is to be a great tournament soon, at Tlacopan, in which women will contest with bow and arrow for a beautiful prize. Your father and others are going, and you can come with them. It will do you good to be there and become interested in the contest."
"It would be very foolish of me to think of winning a prize in a contest with archers who have had experience in the arena," she replied, dubiously.
"I do not think so. Your arrow is as true as any that will be there on that day. Your success would depend on the deliberation with which your shooting is done. If you are able to compose yourself, under such circumstances, I think you could win the prize," he said, persuasively.
"Would it please you to have me go and shoot for the prize?" she asked, artlessly.
"It would, indeed, please me, Mitla; and I am sure your chances for winning it are as good as the best," he replied, with a sincerity equaling her simplicity. His answer decided the matter in her mind, for to please, and, at the same time, be near him, she would have done anything in reason. She said, by way of acquiescence:
"If my father will not object, I will go, if only in obedience to your wish."
"I am grateful for your consideration of my wishes, Mitla, and shall hold it an honor to have been instrumental in bringing into the arena an archer who, I am certain, will do credit to herself and her friends. I will obtain your father's consent; so you may consider it settled that I shall have the pleasure of seeing you shoot at the tourney."
She answered smilingly, and with evident satisfaction:
"I hope you will not be disappointed in your debutante."
"I am sure I shall not be, even should she fail to win," he rejoined, pleased at the happy change the idea had produced in her.
After some little time spent in explanations and talk about the tournament they were interrupted by Cacami coming along, on his return from the soldiers' camp. They joined him, and together went into the house.
The next morning found the hunter's house a scene of lively preparations for the departure of the tzin and his party. A rude palanquin had been hastily constructed in which to transport the hermit, who was not considered equal to the accomplishment of the journey on foot. Hualcoyotl had been furnished by the tzin with a Tlacopan warrior's outfit, which would secure him from detection.
The soldiers who had been detailed to bear the palanquin were early on the ground, and everything was in readiness for moving.
Mitla was sadly disappointed in the result of her meeting with the tzin; there appeared to be no cause for hope in a requital of her great love by a return of his. When the moment came for parting she would have slipped away to hide the signs of her despair, which she felt must be apparent; but the tzin prevented it by insisting on her going a short distance with him. So it happened, when the cortege moved away from the house, she was walking at his side; while Oxie, vivacious and happy, walked and talked with the prince.
The opportunity for the development of Oxie's suddenly acquired admiration for Hualcoyotl into a stronger sentiment had not been afforded, as in the case of Mitla for Euetzin; she was, therefore, under no restraint, though in that peculiar mental condition which would have required but little encouragement to arouse a passionate sentiment which was only slumbering, and not profoundly either.
The tzin had secured the hunter's promise that Mitla should accompany friends to Tlacopan, to be present at the tourney and contest for the king's prize. On learning this she became quite cheerful, in view of the fact that she would soon see him again, and the parting, as a consequence, had comparatively little of sadness in it for her.
Good-byes were said, and the hunter and his daughters returned to their home, feeling that sense of loneliness which ever follows the breaking up of associations that have become dear to the heart.
The prince bade adieu to the mountains, in the fastnesses of which he had suffered so much, with no feelings of regret. Ix had learned to love the solitude of his hermitage, and, while rejoicing in the prospect of being restored to his people and country, felt a tinge of sadness as he cast his eyes for the last time toward the mountain which had given him security for eight long years.
The battles of the Anahuacans were not fought on scientific principles. They had no conception of even the ordinary maneuvers of an army. What they did was done by main force and strategem. Their tactics were the result of untutored cunning, rather than intelligent design. To be sure, their armies were organized—as has been previously described—and, with their gaudy and glittering war paraphernalia of gorgeously decorated banners, bright shields, helmets, and cuirasses, presented a sight truly magnificent—according to the story of writers contemporaneous with the conquerors—as they moved forward in "so admirable order." They usually aimed to overwhelm an adversary, especially if the strength of numbers was on their side. They advanced amid the noises of rude drums, trumpets, and other instruments, singing their war songs, and vociferating their war cries, which was, no doubt, a kind of whistle-to-keep-up-your-courage proceeding. When on the defensive they resorted to cunningly devised ambuscades and other sudden surprises. They also practiced that peculiar manner of fighting common with savages, known as guerilla warfare, in which men have stooped to engage, in this nineteenth century, who claimed to be civilized.
Ixtlilchoatl's plans for meeting his adversary had been decided upon. He purposed standing on the defensive, and, if Maxtla was not informed as to the make-up of his army, felt that he could defeat him. He accordingly, at their request, placed three grand divisions—those of Tlacopan and the other two allies—in front to meet the onslaught of the enemy, while two divisions of Tezcucans were conveniently located to support them. The right of his line was made especially strong, in accordance with his plan of defense. The sixth grand division, the flower of the Tezcucan councils, was situated some distance to the left, and ordered to remain in concealment behind a strip of woods until the engagement was fairly opened, when it was to advance quickly and attack the enemy from that direction. Thus disposed, the army awaited the assault of the foe.
The Tepanec army was splendidly caparisoned and equipped, and, as it marched across the country with its gorgeous banners flapping in the breeze, and the glittering armor and other belongings of its warriors scintillating in the sun's refulgent rays, left behind it the impression that it was an invincible force. The people, whose hearts beat in sympathy with those who were to oppose the mighty aggregation, despaired of its defeat as they looked upon its dazzling splendor. It was clearly the stronger of the two opposing belligerents in equipment if not in numbers, and yet, the difference was more than equalized by the spirit of determination, which inspired the hearts of its opponents, especially the Tezcucans, who had witnessed their country wasting under the hand of oppression, their homes made desolate by poverty and distress, and their people gradually sinking into a condition of ignorance and degradation, while, in the advancing hosts of Maxtla they recognized the power which had wrought these disheartening deteriorations. Was it not enough to make each Tezcucan arm a nemesis in itself, when the sufferer and the author of his suffering stood face to face, on equal footing?
Some of the allied armies were as gaudily, if not so richly, accoutered as their adversary. The Tezcucans, however, although well armed, were indifferently dressed, and remarkably free from tinseled decoration, except in a few instances among the chiefs.
Maxtla, on learning that his enemies were in the field, determined to attack them at once, as delay would give them time to strengthen and perfect their organization, in which he was, to a certain extent, correct; for recruits and reinforcements from various points were hourly arriving to swell the allied army.
He was not aware of the deliberate manner in which the rising had been brought about, and expected to meet in the Tezcucan insurgents only a mob of undisciplined rebels. He had yet to learn how perfectly they were organized, and that Ixtlilchoatl was in command.
On came the imperial hosts, intent upon crushing the insurrectionists and their allies at a single blow. Ixtlilchoatl's advance sentinels were forced back upon the main body of his warriors, and, with hideous yells and a multiplicity of deafening noises, the minions of Maxtla swooped down upon the waiting confederates.
A perfect silence held the expectant lines of the patriotic allies. The showers of arrows and other missiles which fell about and on them moved them not. When the moment for action came, a shout of defiance went up from them, and the confident hosts of the enemy were given a reception they were not looking for. The javelin was used with telling effect, and the advancing lines of Maxtla's vassals were shaken from right to left, and the force of his onslaught broken. For a moment the attacking warriors were checked, and appeared to waver; but, quickly recovering, renewed the assault, and it now became a matter of force in numbers. In this Maxtla had the advantage, and Ix's left was forced back, as it was expected it would be. His right, however, being well supported, held the first advantage gained, and pressed the enemy hard. The left continued to fall back slowly, though contesting every inch of ground. This encouraged the Tepanec leaders, and they poured their reserve forces onto this point, thinking to crush the slowly retreating divisions. To an eye witness the situation at this moment would have looked very unfavorable for Ixtlilchoatl and his prince, if not absolutely critical. But now was the time for the sixth grand division of Tezcucans to strike where a stroke was least expected. Its commander was prompt to take advantage of the opportunity, and out from the thick woods poured a host of vengeful warriors, with Tezcuco's prince at their head. The battle-cry of "Hualcoyotl and Victory" struck upon the ear of the enemy like a knell, as they fell upon the rear of his right like an avalanche of destruction. The retreating left took up the cry and leaped forward with a will; the middle, or center, Macua's splendid division of Tlacopans, reechoed it, and it soon reached the right, the warriors of which sent back an inspiring shout, and from it gathered renewed strength for the conflict, which now became one of fierceness and desperation.
Many were the heroic deeds enacted in that hour of terrible and sanguinary strife.
While the battle is raging, let us turn briefly to those in whom we are specially interested.
Hualcoyotl, as we have seen, led the grand division of Tezcucans from its concealed position to the sudden attack upon the rear of Maxtla's right. Cacami was at his side, and with his sword, along with that of the prince, dealt death to the now inwalled warriors of the enemy. Such an exhibition of fearlessness as these two young leaders showed, and the severe punishment they inflicted on the foe with their heavy swords, was an example which could not fail to stir their followers to deeds of savage daring. The enemy in their front became confused and demoralized by the impetuosity with which they fought, and from which confusion they were not allowed to recover, but were forced back upon their own men, carrying demoralization with them. More than once the life of the prince was saved by Cacami's strong arm, which seemed to wield with magic power the heavy maquahuitl in his hand.
Tzin Euet, who was at the head of the Tezcucans supporting the right, was quickly drawn into the fight when the shock of the first assault came. He led his warriors gallantly into the fray, and by his intrepid conduct nerved their hands for the conflict. In the midst of the hottest and decisive tug of the strife he suddenly disappeared, and when the great struggle ended could not be found.
Ixtlilchoatl remained calmly in his chair, watching from a position of eminence the progress of the mighty struggle in front of him. So long as the fighting went on in accordance with his plans he saw no reason for disturbing his chiefs by interfering. However, when he saw that Maxtla had fallen into his trap, messengers were hurriedly sent with orders to the leaders to meet the situation, and, as the battle waged, he saw that he would win. His guard of mountaineers, with Tezcot at their head, stood ready to strike for Ix, the hermit, as they still regarded him, should necessity require it.
Macua, with his grand division of Tlacopans, was doing good work in the front and center. In the closing scenes of the engagement his warriors gathered in a host of prisoners.
Everything was now in the allies' favor. Half of Maxtla's forces were surrounded, and the other half was being hard pressed by as determined a body of warriors as ever threw a javelin or swung amaquahuitl. The Tepanec tyrant saw that the battle was going against him, and his efforts were at once directed toward extricating his army from its precarious position. The signal to retreat was sounded, and the surrounded warriors, with the force of desperation, fought their way through the human wall which encircled them, and joined the main body, which began to slowly fall back.
It was late in the afternoon when the Tepanec army commenced its retrograde movement. The victorious allies followed up their advantage so long as it was possible, fighting and harrassing their retreating foe. Darkness finally came on, which put a stop to the strife.
It was not so much an object to kill, with the Anahuacans, ordinarily, as it was to capture.
Prisoners of war were reserved for sacrifice to the gods; and in order that greater numbers might be secured, incentives were held out to the soldiers to encourage the taking of them. They did not engage in the barbarous practice of scalping a fallen foe, but made a warrior's standing and promotion depend on the number of prisoners taken by him in battle, and any violation of his rights, by depriving him of his due as a captor, was severely punished—in extreme cases by death. For this reason their battles were attended with comparatively little loss of life.
The losses of the allies were mostly in prisoners, the number of their killed being quite small. Maxtla's losses, on the contrary, were chiefly in killed, for the reason that the Tezcucans, on this occasion, fought a fight of extermination. At least one fifth of the defeated army was left in the hands of the victors.
The victorious allies bivouacked for the night on the field of battle. The wounded were cared for and the dead disposed of, while the prisoners were put under a strong guard and sent to the rear.
When order was brought out of confusion, and the missing warriors reported, Euetzin was found to be among them. This was a heavy blow to the prince and Ixtlilchoatl; for, of all the army, he was the man whom they would have had join them in rejoicing over their victory. His ominous absence robbed it of much of the joy their triumph would otherwise have brought them. They knew only too well the doom that awaited him if in Maxtla's hands; if not liberated, his fate was sealed.
A council of war was held; and, as the tzin stood high in the esteem of all the princes, it was decided to push Maxtla to the wall, and, if possible, save the young cacique from the terrible fate of a prisoner of war. Ixtlilchoatl accordingly issued orders for the army to march at dawn the next morning, for the purpose of again engaging the enemy in battle.
Tzin Euet was a prisoner, and very severely wounded. Eagerness to engage the enemy, and the impetuosity with which he led his warriors to the support of the allies, brought him, quickly, into the thickest of the fray. He fought as men only fight who realize the importance of a complete victory, which, in this instance, depended on the tenacity of the right wing of the army in holding the foe in check and calling for the engagement of his whole force by pressing him vigorously, which was according to Ixtlilchoatl's plan of defense, and of which Euetzin was fully advised.
When the Tezcucan battle-cry was heard coming from the sixth grand division as it fell upon the enemy's right flank, and was carried from left to right by the sister organizations, a fresh impetus was given to the momentum of the whole repelling army, and the battle, if possible, grew more fierce and sanguinary. In the struggle which ensued the tzin was carried into the very midst of the seething mass of human tigers, where he became separated from his men. When too late to extricate himself, he discovered, to his dismay, that he was surrounded by Tepanec warriors, who, seeing in him an important capture, struck him down with the javelin, and bore him, a bleeding prisoner, from the field.
In the retreat of the defeated army the prisoners were placed in the van—the severely wounded borne on stretchers. Euetzin was among the latter, feeling very much discouraged in view of his almost helpless condition, though glad of heart for the splendid victory his people had won.
Soon after darkness came on, Maxtla called a halt and his shattered forces went into camp. In the arrangement of the bivouac the wounded were placed apart from the regular organizations, and put in charge of surgeons, with which the armies were well supplied, and of whom the historian has said, in commendation: "Not with a view to prolonging the ill to extend the bill," as might be said of some modern practitioners, "was their skill directed, but to a speedy restoration of the patient to health."
Such a thing as a night attack was never considered by the Anahuacans in carrying on a war, and, so long as darkness covered the earth, an army of warriors could go to sleep with the assurance that they would not be disturbed by the enemy. A guard, therefore, was not established anywhere in Maxtla's army, except about the prisoners. This left the wounded almost free from surveillance.
Soon after the Tepanec forces went into camp a lad, apparently about fourteen or fifteen years of age, and rather stoutly built, might have been seen moving about among the soldiers. His dress was somewhat odd, indicating no particular connection or occupation. When asked as to who he was and where he lived, he answered, evasively, that he lived over near the lake, which was not a league away. He did not appear to be a person who might be suspected of having a special object in being there, and require watching. He was, therefore, permitted to move about of his own free will.
During the evening the youngster found opportunity to go among the wounded. He appeared to be searching for someone, for he scrutinized each person closely, as he passed. When he came to the tzin, and got a good look at him, his countenance quickly brightened—he had discovered the object of his search. Gaining Euetzin's attention, he gave him a sign of caution, and moved carelessly on.
The tzin recognized in the strange visitor a lad he had seen on several occasions, in the last few days before the battle, apparently doing duty as a messenger for someone in the allied army, and wondered greatly at his being in the Tepanec camp. He was sure from the boy's actions that he had something to communicate, and kept on the lookout for his return. He came, sure enough, and unconcernedly approached the tzin, who said:
"Do you wish to speak to me?"
In response to the inquiry the lad came quite close, and whispered:
"When the fires have burned out, and darkness hides you, come to a tree just beyond the camp—almost to the west—where you will find help to escape. Do not hesitate." Without waiting for a reply the strange youth turned slowly away, and disappeared.
Euetzin was greatly astonished. "What interest can the boy have in me, that he is here to aid in my escape?" he questioned. "And yet," he pursued, "he may be the agent of another. If I only might," he concluded, realizing his seemingly helpless condition. He had quite a little while in which to think over the matter before the fires would burn sufficiently low to enable him to withdraw from the camp unseen. He doubted his ability to succeed, for he was feeling very sore. His wound was a serious one, and that he might try to get away was not thought of by the doctors. He knew that it would be endangering his life to make the attempt, but when he considered that death was ahead of him if he remained a prisoner, he concluded that it had better be met in an effort to escape than at the hands of the Tepanec priests, later. Thus persuaded, he decided to take the risk.
When the time arrived at which he thought he might safely attempt to go he raised himself to a sitting posture, and looked about him to be assured that everything was favorable. Nothing could be seen or heard to deter him from starting at once, and quietly rolling from the stretcher onto his hands and knees, he crawled slowly and noiselessly from among the wounded warriors, careless as to whether they were sleeping or not, so long as his movements were not discovered. He almost forgot his suffering in the excitement he experienced from the hope of a possible escape, which grew stronger as, by degrees, he approached the limits of the camp. After getting safely beyond he attempted to rise to his feet, but found the exertion too painful to be endured, and sank back upon the ground, where he lay until the pain subsided, when he again started off, crawling. He had pursued, as nearly as he could estimate, a westerly course from the camp, and when he had gone a short distance farther from it, stopped to look for the tree alluded to by the boy. He discovered one off to his right, which he concluded must be the right one, and again resumed his slow and painful movement in its direction. It proved to be the tree referred to, for, on coming close to it, he was discovered by the lad, who was on the watch for him, and seemed highly delighted at his appearance.
"I am so glad!" he exclaimed, "for I feared you would not come."
"What is it to you, boy, whether I come or stay?" asked the tzin, abruptly.
"It is much to me, which I hope you will live to learn. But now, tzin Euet, let it be enough for you to know that I am here to help you," returned the lad in some confusion, caused by tzin's abruptness.
"But I would like to know who you are, that takes so much interest in my welfare."
"My name is Hualla, tzin—just Hualla, but you must not question me. Time is precious to us, and we must hasten. In yonder woods, toward the lake, we may find security. When we are there you shall know where I came from."
"I already know where you came from, for I have seen you in our army; but I would know more: I would know why you are interested in me," persisted the tzin.
"We are losing time; let us be off," returned the youth, evasively, and with increasing anxiety.
"Is there no one with you?" questioned the tzin.
"No one; I am alone."
"My young friend, I can not walk; how then, do you imagine, am I going to reach those woods without assistance?" Spoken in a tone of disappointment.
"I will assist you. I am strong, if not very large," was the confident reply.
"You are very good, Hualla, in being so willing and anxious to help me, but I fear you will not be equal to the demands which my crippled condition will require in an effort to gain the cover of yon woods."
"You will let me try, tzin; I may be stronger than you think," said the lad, taking hold of Euetzin's arm to assist him to rise.
"Yes, you may try. Until you have done so, we will not despair; our combined efforts may prove successful," said Euetzin, getting onto his feet, with the assistance of the youth.
"Now lean on me," said Hualla, putting his arm around the tzin's body. "In this way I think we can get on."
A heroic effort was now made by both to get away from the vicinity of Maxtla's camp. The tzin suffered intensely at every step, and his face, could it have been seen, would have shown a deathly pallor. While the effort continued he found it necessary to gradually lean more heavily upon his support, until the youth, from sheer inability to proceed farther, allowed his burden to sink to the ground.
They had covered in the effort quite a little distance, and the lad, though considerably exhausted, was encouraged. But just here a new complication entered into the situation: the bandages which confined the tzin's wound had become disarranged by his exertions, and hemorrhage ensued. There was no alternative in the matter: they must stop and rearrange the disordered bandages.
Stretching himself on the ground, the tzin gave directions to Hualla as to how he should proceed, and the bleeding was checked. In performing the operation, no woman's fingers ever worked more gently than did Hualla's.
The tzin once more endeavored to rise to his feet, but failed in the attempt because of the extreme pain it caused him.
"I can go no farther, Hualla," he said, in deep distress.
The lad appeared to be greatly affected by the failure, as Euetzin could discern, even in the darkness. He walked away a few steps, as if to hide his emotion. Returning presently, he said, in an excited tone of voice:
"Tzin Euet, you must escape. Macua, my master, and Hualcoyotl—yes, Ixtlilchoatl, too, would have it so. I will carry you."
Euetzin was astonished at the vehemence in the youth's actions, and also at his allusion to Ix and the two princes. He quickly inquired:
"Are you a servant to Macua, and here at his bidding?"
"Yes, I am a servant to Macua, but he knows nothing of my being here. I heard the voice of sorrow when it was discovered that you were missing, and in that moment resolved to save you, if it could be done," replied the youth, fervidly.
"You are a noble lad, Hualla, and should I escape to live, your conduct shall be richly rewarded."
"You must escape," repeated the youth in a voice of great earnestness. "Get upon my back, and I will bear you to the woods."
"I do not think you have the strength, Hualla, to do that; and if you had, it would be too much to expect of you."
"Yes, it would be much to expect of me, if it were not a case of life and death. That makes the difference, tzin, and you must allow me to make the attempt."
Euetzin was silent for a moment, and then said:
"Hualla, I think we will have to give your proposition a trial, as it appears to be our only hope, though a slight one, of reaching those woods."
The tzin was not a small man, nor was he large, but, nevertheless, a heavy load for such a person as Hualla to carry for any considerable distance. The feat was undertaken with some degree of success; and as the tzin was borne along on the back of the youth a tinge of shame might have been seen to redden his tawny brow, brought there by a thought of his unmanly position, and the boy's wonderful and almost superhuman efforts to get him into the woods.
Hualla succeeded in covering more than half the distance they had to go, but it was a fearful draught upon his strength, and he finally had to succumb from complete exhaustion. He said not a word, but dropped upon the ground and fairly gasped for breath.
Euetzin was deeply moved by the evident distress of the brave lad, who lay panting at his side, and for whom he could do nothing. He silently waited for him to recover, wondering the while if there was not some other incentive than that of devotion to his master back of the prodigious efforts he was making in his behalf.
Hualla lay perfectly still for some time, when he suddenly got up and said:
"Another effort like that, tzin, will bring us safely within the woods. If you are ready, I will try again."
"You will not try again, Hualla," replied the tzin, firmly. "If we can not gain the woods in some other way I will remain where I am. You shall not again exhaust yourself thus for my sake."
"I will do anything, tzin Euet, to secure your safety," was the lad's earnest rejoinder.
"I believe you would, Hualla. Still, I do not intend that you shall hurt yourself in doing it. I can not understand why you—a stranger—should exert yourself to the extent you are doing to secure my safety. The thought of it amazes me."
"Do not think of it, then, tzin. So long as I am pleased to help you, it should not be so very wonderful. I have my own reasons for doing it; let that satisfy you—until you are safe, at least."
"It is wonderful, nevertheless, my lad. However, if it pleases you to serve me in this way, and the service is accepted—which it is, with unbounded gratitude—its acceptance should be without question. So, Hualla, I'll trouble you no more about it. If you will permit me to lean on you for support, we will make another effort—such as we made in starting out. I will try my best to endure the attendant suffering," said the tzin.
Hualla assisted him to his feet, and caught him about the waist, holding him for a moment, until he was assured of his ability to proceed. The pain, which the effort cost him, was great, but, shutting hard his teeth, and leaning heavily on the lad, who put forth his best efforts, the tzin slowly, but surely, reduced the distance to the woods, until, finally, after several successful efforts, he entered its sheltering confines, where the two—one bruised and sore, the other almost exhausted—laid themselves down to await the coming morn, which was not very far away.