Chapter XXVIII: The Gods Must Avenge Themselves

The wooden platters, leaf baskets, and rough earthen bowls brought by the Indians full of good things were not long in being emptied, and then the Spaniards were at leisure once more to indulge in curiosity.

"What think you, father, was our captain about to say to us before the wherewithal for a dinner was so seasonably provided?"

Morla looked anxious for the answer, for although he had caught the infection of the late sudden outburst of enthusiasm, and had shouted as lustily as any one--"To Mexico! to Mexico!" he had a bad foot at the present time, and contemplated with very great apprehension the prospect of a number of days' long marches. But Juan Diaz could give him neither news nor consolation.

"Take a siesta," was the priest's advice. "I doubt not Cortes is doing so himself. And when he hath fed well and slept well, he will perchance think well to inform us of his lordly will, whether half-a-dozen or so more of his betters are to be hanged, perhaps, to do him pleasure."

"Thou the first, for an ill-conditioned, surly knave that thou art," muttered Alvarado under his breath, as he came up in time to hear most of the priest's speech. Passing a few yards farther on he raised his voice, and summoned the little army once more to assemble without delay to hear the proposed plan of future movements.

Within ten minutes the whole force had crowded up together around Cortes, and in breathless silence awaited the coming news. The first words were somewhat startling. They were a repetition of their own at the outset of that morning's tumult.

"Comrades, our ships are burnt."

Then--a long, startling pause following startling words. Men turned their heads slowly from side to side, and gazed into each others' eyes.

Were those words and the silence ominous of evil to come? of passionate accusations or of dark forebodings? But before one could mutter these and many another doubt to his fellow, the words were repeated, and the short speech continued to its end.

"Our ships are burnt. Now we go to burn the heathen gods of this benighted land. We are helpless in our own strength; in the power of the one true God we are invincible. Let us invite His aid and mercy by showing due honour to the most holy faith. We go, my comrades, to hurl the idols from their altars to make way for the Blessed Mother, and once for all to blot out human sacrifices from this polluted land, by raising on high the cross of Him who has become the one sacrifice for all mankind."

The short speech of Hernando Cortes was ended, and although it contained no hint for any one there of gain, of gold, or glory, it went home--straight home from the speaker's heart to the hearts of his hearers.

Intensely ambitious, and burdened with many faults, was that dauntless leader; wild, reckless, and cruel were many of his followers; but in some strange way they held to the Christian faith as they knew it, and were at any time willing to lay down their life in its cause, although none of their sins.

The emotions that closed that day were stronger and deeper than those with which it opened. Even the turbulent priest, Juan Diaz, put on an appearance of satisfaction now, whatever he might really still feel as to the discomforts of pestilent marshes, uncertain commons, and the faint prospect of better things for the future.

"Before all things spread the Catholic faith," was the watchword in that age, of all exploring expeditions, the one universal plea for their aid and countenance. Cortes held to it with the intense fervour natural to his strong nature. So did his followers; but all the same that Merry Andrew, Juan de Cabrera, took occasion during the course of the afternoon to remark to Alvarado--

"Now, my most estimable and dearly-beloved friend, when we get into those heathen temples do the friendly part by me, and just give me a quiet hint where to lay my fingers on any easily-portable little bits of gold."

"If you don't take better heed to that impudent tongue of thine," interfered Escalante with a laugh, "he is more likely to introduce thee to a good cudgelling."

Alvarado himself as usual shrugged his shoulders with calm indifference. Words that would have led to fatal combats amongst those fiery, proud Spaniards if spoken by any one else were uttered by the young, laughing-eyed Cabrera with perfect impunity.

"Did thy mother never think," said Don Pedro with an air of kind pity, "of putting thee in the way of earning an honest livelihood as Court fool?"

"Ay, that did she," was the instant reply; "but thy mother heard of it, and begged of her not to stand in thy light. She said there were so many comfortable little pickings--"

"Now, now, Cabrera! Hold!" sharply interrupted Montoro; "it is enough. Verily thou dost allow that tongue of thine too much licence. Alvarado, I would a few words in private with you, if you can for awhile forego this youngster's company."

So saying, he linked his hand in the other's arm and drew him away, before amusement should change into anger. And for the next hour and more even Cabrera was deep in converse of the gravest nature with Escalante, Alonzo de Grado, Velasquez de Leon, and Gonzalo de Sandoval.

Not a man in that little camp-city slept much that night, from Hernando Cortes the leader down to the meanest soldier amongst his followers. All felt that they were on the eve of great things. What had gone before was, as it were, drill-work; but now there loomed before them the true tug of war.

"And, in the prospect facing us there is one thing, I confess, that fills me with an almost abject terror."

It was Escalante who spoke, brave, firm, calm-natured Escalante, than whom there was no officer more justly honoured in the whole band for his wise spirit and unflinching courage. And yet now he uttered those craven-seeming words in low, hushed tones, and with eyes filled with a nameless horror that said even more than the words had done. His companions gazed at him in amazement.

"It is well for his present peace," said Cabrera, "that it is thyself and not another that has said that for thee, Escalante."

"Ay, indeed," ejaculated Gonzalo de Sandoval. "But what mystery lies there, Escalante, at the back of thy words?"

"No mystery," was the reply--"nought but a plain truth. The idea of falling alive into some of these heathens' hands in battle, and of then being offered up in sacrifice to their idols, and eaten after in their ghastly cannibal feasts, in very deed seemeth to me, when I think on it, to--"

"Ah! to pluck the heart out of thy breast before those fiendish hands can do it," exclaimed Cabrera, starting to his feet in sudden excitement. "I grant thee, Escalante, one has need to learn a new kind of courage to that we have hitherto required, to hold a stiff face before these thoughts."

"Not the terrors of the Inquisition itself," muttered Alonzo de Grado, "can compare with them."

But Velasquez had had enough, and more than enough, for his part, of such discourse, and flinging back his head with impetuous hauteur, he said indignantly--

"In very truth I marvel at ye all, discussing as though it were a possibility, the chance of a Spanish nobleman falling alive into the hands of a base redskin! Let us turn our tongues to themes that shall be more profitable."

"To pleasanter ones, with all my heart," said Juan de Cabrera readily. "But see, who comes yonder in such haste?"

"Morla, for a gold button," said Sandoval.

"An easy guess enough," laughed Velasquez. "And none will take thy bet, my friend. Was there ever another man with so huge a head as Morla!"

"Never mind, Morla, it hath brains inside," said Escalante good-naturedly to the man, who had now come up to the party of officers, and stood before them awaiting permission and opportunity to speak. Curiosity gave him them soon enough.

"Brains or no brains, thou hanged rascal," said Cabrera, "what wouldst thou with us. To have another try at thy neck by way of practice for the natives, if they turn restive on their gods' behalf?"

A grim smile flitted for a moment over the soldier's face.

"I thank thee, my Señor, I would rather that practising were undertaken with the Don Montoro de Diego by to witness it, and to make sure that the lesson were not too well learnt. Meantime, I have a message from the Captain-General to the Don Juan de Escalante, to the effect that he will repair without delay to the Captain's tent."

The order was obeyed with alacrity, and when the officer returned, some time later, to his brethren in arms his face wore an expression of mingled elation and satisfaction. The confidence felt in his abilities and integrity had received full proof, for he was to be left in charge of the new city of Villa Rica de Vera Cruz, and of its small garrison, of which Morla was to form one, and of the company of slaves and attendants.

"You will at any rate be safe from the perils of the sacrificial altar, seeing that here you will have neither priests, false gods, nor altars for the sacrifice," said the fine young officer Gonzalo de Sandoval, with just a touch of envy at his companion's elevation to a post of so much trust and honour. But Cabrera looked at the matter in another light--

"Neither will he have here the rich prizes that we go to gather from the golden palaces of Mexico."

"I agree with you," said Velasquez. "Wealth and action, with any peril you please, for me, sooner than poverty and a safe tranquillity."

And so the band of high-spirited young adventurers discussed their prospects gaily, none seeing into the veiled future, nor knowing that the one they thought to leave to such safety was doomed to deadly peril, none dreaming that the remaining days of life of their gallant comrade were so few, and that they were about to bid him a final farewell. But more of that in its due course.

With the first dawn of the morrow after the day of mutiny, clamour, and expectation, the whole camp was astir, and in no long time after, the army was on its way through a country beautiful enough for the Garden of Paradise, to the Indian city of Cempoalla, one of the centres of the civilization of the Western World.

Delighted feelings of new hope arose in the soldiers' minds as they came in sight of fruit-laden orchards in the highest state of cultivation, and gardens evidencing a care and knowledge, in their wonderful beauty and luxuriance, that few indeed of the gardens of Europe could boast in that warlike age.

Hernando Cortes and his men marched on. Cortes himself maintained a closely observant silence, but his officers and men were not so reticent, and on all sides there were exclamations of wonder, at the unexpected signs of an advanced civilization and refinement so utterly unlooked-for in those regions.

And now their progress began to be somewhat impeded by the innumerable processions that met them from the city,[5] some coming to welcome the strange visitors, some coming as sightseers, to enjoy an early view of the new-comers and their marvellous four-footed companions, whom they took, like the ancients of the old world, to form with their riders one extraordinary animal.

[Footnote 5: 'Hist. Conquest of Mexico,' Vol. I., p. 288.--Prescott.]

"Are we once more fighting on the battle-fields of Granada, think you!" ejaculated Alvarado to Montoro, as he pointed to a long train of men then approaching the Captain-General, and glittering in the sunlight as they came on, clad in richly-coloured mantles worn over the shoulders in the Moorish fashion, gorgeous sashes of every rainbow tint, or girdles, while splendid jewels of gold adorned their necks, their ears and nostrils.

Montoro gazed at them in equal wonder.

"But see," he murmured, almost breathless with amaze,--"see yonder, friend Pedro. Let thine eyes travel on a little farther. Is not yon a singular sight to behold in a country where we had taught ourselves to expect nought but savage wilds, and inhabitants sunk in the depths of a miserable degradation? I feel as though I had fallen asleep, to awake in dreamland."

"And a fair enough dreamland too," replied Juan de Cabrera. "I care not, for my part, how long I may remain there, so I be not altogether smothered with their flowers."

That hope as to the smothering seemed almost needful with reference to the trains of women and young maidens to whom Montoro had directed his companion's notice. Beautifully clad from the neck to the ankles in robes of exquisitely-wrought fine cotton, ornamented with finely-worked golden necklets, bracelets, and earrings, and surrounded by crowds of obsequious attendants, the graceful processions advanced, literally laden with brilliant blossoms, the products of that most lovely country.

Hastening gaily forward, they surrounded the warriors with their dainty offerings. They hung a chaplet of roses about the general's helmet, and wreaths about his charger's neck. As for the yellow-haired Alvarado and the laughing Cabrera, they were very soon converted into tolerable imitations of the English Maypole, or the May-day Jack-in-the-green, their fine Spanish eyes beaming out of the midst of their bright coverings, upon their decorators, with a smiling good-humour that gave little warning of future headlong and annihilating cruelty.

At length the Europeans reached the city, and silence fell upon them as they slowly entered the narrow, crowded streets, and paced along to a temple assigned them by the Cacique for their quarters, during their stay in his dominion.

Not one of the band would have now retreated from the enterprise on hand had he been able. At the same time, for a company of about six or seven hundred men to be cooped up within a close-built town, of whose ins and outs they knew nothing, and in this position to be surrounded by thirty thousand people who might prove to be crafty enemies, was a state of affairs to make even the most reckless feel just a little bit like wishing that they had at least two pairs of eyes, and one of them situated in the back of their heads.

No one saw fit to demur when Cortes announced, on arriving at the temple, that he intended to double the usual number of the sentinels to keep watch at night, and that the whole force was to maintain a constant state of the utmost vigilance, and readiness for any surprise.

"Moreover," concluded the General, with resolute determination of manner, "moreover, comrades, it is my absolute command, on pain of death, that none leave the precincts of our present quarters without my leave, on any pretext whatsoever. I will myself shoot the first who does."

"Umph," muttered Cabrera with a little raising of his eyebrows. "You speak very positively, my Captain. How would it be with your word if you did not get the chance!"

"Just so," returned Alvarado in the same tone. "My fears of being caught hold of by those bloodthirsty idol-priests would do more to keep me from straying, than any threats of being shot if I were lucky enough to get back to camp again. Meantime, here comes a party of well-laden cooks. Whatever other fate they intend for us, it is apparently not starvation."

As those two thus talked together, Montoro de Diego was no little startled by one of the women, with a flower-decked basket of maize cakes in her hands, and cheeks streaming with tears, separating herself with some quiet caution from her fellows, and coming up to him with her gift, and with eyes that besought, with all the power of mute eloquence, for a hearing for some tale of sorrow.

Montoro had been wandering with a vivid interest through some of the numerous apartments of the temple, opening on to the courtyard where the rest of his comrades were assembled, and he was standing within one of the halls, and alone, when the woman caught sight of him. The bringing of the maize bread was but a pretext for an interview.

"Be comforted. Trust me; I will do what I can," said Montoro, with the flush of deep excitement on his face, after listening for a few moments to the poor creature's broken utterances.

Then he dismissed her, and made his way to Cortes, asking a private audience. But the General was in something less than his usual cordial mood. Cortes was preoccupied, and oppressed with many anxieties that night, and little disposed to speech or interviews with even those whom he most esteemed.

"What is it, Diego?" he asked rather hastily--"any news of treachery without or within? For matters of high importance one must have always leisure; for others--I crave your pardon,--they must wait."

Montoro bowed with a certain degree of haughtiness.

"I am not accustomed to seek private interviews concerning trivialities. But,--I will crave your pardon as you have craved mine,--methinks, now I give second thoughts to the affair, that thou mightest even pronounce my present matter unworthy of your present favourable attention, and with disfavour I can well dispense."

"As I with thine unseasonable anger, friend Toro," said Hernando with grave reproach.

But the angered cavalier had already retired.

"To brood over his fancied causes of complaint against me, no doubt, like the most unreasonable amongst my company," muttered Cortes in a tone of vexation.

Union was so abundantly necessary just now.