"He, no doubt, has reasons for being so," said Cacami. "It is a delightful accomplishment, and I'm sure you realize much pleasure from it. I am not unskilled in the use of the bow, and greatly enjoy its employment." Turning to the younger sister, he continued: "You, my young friend--Oxie, I believe, do not engage in its practice?"

"No, my sister's excellence and my own awkwardness have always discouraged me, so I have given up trying," she answered a little ruefully.

"Oxie, if not an archer, has other accomplishments really more womanly," spoke the mother, joining in the conversation to defend her favorite.

"Your daughters are both, without doubt, worthy of all praise, each for those accomplishments best suited to her disposition," replied Cacami with tact, addressing his hostess.

"Good girls, friend, both of them," interrupted Tezcot, stripping the meat from the bone of a pheasant; "differently const.i.tuted, that's all." Then abruptly turning the subject, he said: "Have you been successful, Cacami, in chasing the charm to which you alluded this evening, the charm which we of the mountains find in pursuing the hunter's calling?"

"You may be a.s.sured, O Tezcot, that I have no cause for complaint. My success has always been very satisfactory," replied Cacami; and continuing, he inquired: "How do you hunters manage to dispose of your game aside from what you consume?"

"Take or send it to the nearest market. My men will go in after another day to dispose of our surplus, which is now quite large," replied the mountaineer.

"I brought in a fine lot with me to-night, and as I never carry game from a worthy host's door, you may consider it a part of your surplus, which I hope will obviate the necessity of your going to the mountains to-morrow, thus affording you a day's rest," said Cacami, evidently bent on meeting the generosity of his host.

"It requires no such sacrifice, O Cacami, to prove your heartiness of will. We can not allow it," remonstrated Tezcot. "No, no, my friend, you must not think of it."

"I have so decided, good host, and beg that you will allow me to have my way," returned Cacami respectfully, but in a manner that settled the question.

"Well, friend, you seem bent on carrying out your purpose, which we hope is not prompted by any doubt of the unselfishness of our hospitality," said the hunter, feeling that his cherished reputation for generosity was being questioned.

"Not at all, most hospitable of men. On the contrary, the giving of the game is intended as a trifling mark of my appreciation of your unequaled liberality," urged Cacami. "The value of game, to me, is gone," he continued, "when I have it in hand. It is the pursuit of it, and not its possession, which brings satisfaction, excepting when I can dispose of it in the way I propose; then it does become of value, not intrinsically, but for the pleasure it returns when thus bestowed."

"You are kind, very kind, Cacami," rejoined the hunter, relenting. "And since you will have it so, be a.s.sured it shall not be lost to you."

"And why should it be counted lost at all? Does the hospitality of the great-hearted Tezcot amount to so little? The game is an insignificant return, I a.s.sure you, for the gratification it will afford me to recall having eaten of your bread and drunken of your pulque," returned Cacami warmly.

Supper was here concluded, and, yielding to the Tezcucan's fervency, Tezcot said:

"So be it, friend; providing, however, that you remain our guest another day, and join Mit and me in a short excursion on the mountain."

"That I will most cheerfully do, and count the day happily spent,"

responded Cacami graciously.

The majority of the little group we have introduced in this chapter--the home of the hunter's chief and the adjacent mountains, will figure extensively in this narrative. With our brief sketch of the persons presented, we leave the reader to perfect the individuality of each, forgetting for the moment to what race they belonged. An eminent mountaineer hunter, a man of n.o.ble impulses, proficient in everything required of him; an excellent wife and mother, who was a worthy companion to the father of her children; two beautiful maidens, who, though of directly opposite temperaments, were equally devoted in their home relations--an exceptional family, together with their Tezcucan guest, a young man whom the reader, we hope, will find an agreeable accession to the _personnel_ of our story.

CHAPTER VII.

The laws by which the nations of Anahuac were governed were comprehensive as well as very severe. Every subject was expected to have knowledge of them, and the people were, accordingly, instructed in them by means of hieroglyphical paintings.

Crimes against society were punished with slavery or death, according to the magnitude of the offense. Theft and robbery were placed in this category, and met with the severest punishment. If the accused was found guilty, his fate was sealed; there was no escape from the penalty, so rigidly were the laws enforced.

These conditions, together with the strict surveillance of the military police, made it hazardous for any one to be abroad at night, unless adequate reason for it could be made apparent.

Protected in this thorough manner, the people had no fear of depredators, and took no precautions against them. No bolts, bars or other fastenings, as a protection, were to be found on their doors, when doors were used; in fact, more times than otherwise, only a curtain shielded the privacy of a home from the outside world. They felt as secure with an open door as the most enlightened Christian citizen would amid the highest order of civilization, behind his locks and bolts, supplemented by the latest improved burglar-alarm.

We now return to Zelmonco villa. We find it wrapped in deepest silence; the inmates are lost in the oblivion of sleep; the birds that make glad its environs under the light of day are perched in confidence and security on their chosen limb. The hour is that in which Nature wraps with sleep her children closest 'round about--the midnight hour, silent and solemn.

At this unseemly time two shadowy forms steal noiselessly into the park at the foot of the hill, and pause in an att.i.tude of listening. No sound is heard, save the beating of a heart by each. After satisfying themselves that no living thing is astir within their hearing, they move cautiously up toward the house; and presently, when near its entrance, pa.s.s within the protecting shadow of a thickly foliaged tree and stop.

Before leaving the weaver's cottage, Hualcoyotl had decided to stop at Zelmonco villa, where he purposed remaining over one day, while Oza would be sent on to communicate with a good friend--a loyal Tezcucan who lived a short day's journey toward the mountains--to inform him of the prince's perilous situation and desire to find shelter and concealment with him for a few hours.

The night was not dark, for the stars were shining very brightly, as they always seem to in the clear sky of that sunny clime. To the fugitives their l.u.s.ter appeared to be remarkably brilliant, causing them to shun the roadways for fear of discovery and arrest; as a consequence, halts and frequent change of course made their progress slow, and the hour of their arrival at the villa late.

The reader has, no doubt, guessed who it was that entered Zelmonco park at midnight, and, pa.s.sing up to the villa, paused in the shadow of a tree near its entrance.

The prince's breathing, when they stopped--for it was he and his attendant--was somewhat labored. The long and arduous walk from the city, and the effort required to gain the summit of the hill on which the villa stood, had severely tested the strength of his wind; which, from long confinement and inactivity, had become, in some degree, ennervated. He quickly regained his composure, and, while they yet stood within the tree's shadow, his thoughts turned upon himself and his peculiarly discouraging situation. He mentally soliloquized: "Like a rudderless boat on yonder lake, left to the caprice of the elements, tossed hither and thither by wind and wave, I am out in the world, a fugitive, condemned, driven, I know not whither! Oh, would that I could forecast my destiny and know it, though the worst should be revealed!"

After a moment's pause he continued: "Yet, perhaps, it is better as it is: The Great Unseen will keep me if there is a purpose in my life!"

Turning to Oza he said, in a subdued voice:

"There is safety in this house, the home of Euetzin, for a short time, if we might enter. Stand you here, while I endeavor to secure the attention of someone." He cautiously advanced to the door, which he found ajar, and gave two or three raps. No answer being obtained, the raps were repeated a little louder.

"Who raps?" suddenly inquired a voice from within.

"A friend of tzin Euet, who would communicate with Teochma, his mother," answered the prince, with caution.

"Stand inside, I will call her," returned the voice, and its owner, as the prince entered, went to summon his mistress.

The person who answered the prince's knock was a slave, whose sleeping-place, for convenience, was near the door.

In a few minutes the tzin's mother appeared, bearing a lighted taper.

When she saw the m.u.f.fled figure near the entrance, she paused and inquired:

"Who seeks to communicate with Teochma?"

"One who is a fugitive, with a price upon his life, comes to ask of Teochma shelter for a short time, until the way is made clear for him to go on," was answered.

"Prince Hualcoyotl!"

"Sh! Have a care, O Teochma; speak not that name so loud, even here, beneath this friendly roof. Walls do not always confine the voice's sound, and the winds are treacherous. Should that name be borne to traitorous ears, and my presence in your house be made known to my pursuers, desolation would surely come upon it, and distress to those it shelters."

The prince had dropped the mantle from about his face, and while he yet spoke Teochma saw that it was indeed the royal friend of her son. From custom she was about to offer him obeisance, but he quickly interposed, and said entreatingly:

"No, Teochma, do not so. Let the good mother of Euetzin treat as a servant, rather, him who stands in her presence. When the winds cease to bear upon their wings the cry of my enslaved and degraded people for deliverance, which rises hourly from a thousand homes, then, and not till then, may he to whom you would do honor receive the homage due his station!" He bowed himself before her in salutation, and continued: "Thus may it be in this hour, good mother of my friend--and mine, I could wish, O Teochma!"

"Rise, my son; it is not fit that you should humble yourself in this manner. Teochma is grateful for your condescension, and is pleased to welcome you to a shelter in her home." Hualcoyotl arose, and she continued: "But come, enter here and be seated," saying which, she motioned for him to pa.s.s to an adjoining room.

"Give me yet a moment, good Teochma. There is one without, an attendant, who waits to be called. If it please you, I will bid him come in."

"a.s.suredly, my son, bid him come."