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 grat.i.tude," 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 circ.u.mstances 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 pa.s.s, 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 circ.u.mstances, 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 pa.s.sionate 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 a.s.sociations 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.

CHAPTER x.x.x.

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 cuira.s.ses, 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 a.s.sault 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 va.s.sals 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 a.s.sault, 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 a.s.sault 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 a _maquahuitl_. 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.