A Prince of Anahuac Part 37

"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 n.o.ble 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 succ.u.mb 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 grat.i.tude--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 a.s.sisted him to his feet, and caught him about the waist, holding him for a moment, until he was a.s.sured 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.

CHAPTER x.x.xII.

At the dawn of morning, the day following the one on which the great battle was fought, the allied armies, after being addressed by their respective caciques, began to advance, with a view to another engagement with Maxtla, for the purpose, chiefly, of securing, if possible, the liberation of the prisoners in his hands. The chiefs, in addressing their warriors, dwelt especially on the capture of tzin Euet, the man--as they expressed it--who had done so grand a work for Tezcuco and the cause of liberty, who, above all others, they felt, should enjoy the fruits of that work, and whose release it was hoped might be brought about by the further discomfiture of the enemy.

Flushed with the stimulus of a great victory, and anxious to again measure strength with the Tepanec hosts, the warriors of the coalited army marched away from their bivouac with a zeal which augured well for them and the confusion of their adversaries, should they meet again in deadly conflict.

The camp of the enemy was known to have been pitched on a plain situated on the further side of a piece of woodland which lay just north of the field of the recent battle. Ixtlilchoatl moved his forces cautiously through this piece of woods, expecting to find Maxtla encamped beyond, in blissful ignorance of their approach. Great was the surprise, then, of the eager and expectant allies, when they came out onto the plain, to find the enemy gone--the bird had flown, though, evidently, only a short time before. A rapid pursuit was immediately ordered, and ere long the retreating foe was overtaken and another great battle fought.

The advantages, in point of numbers and excellence of organization, together with the prestige of former successes, which were on the side of the Tepanec army when it entered the field against the allies, had been swept away by a disastrous defeat, and its warriors, further disheartened and demoralized by a humiliating retreat, which left them wholly unfitted to cope with an equally numerous army, whose members were energized by a consciousness of right, the invigoration of victory, and a determination to overthrow the power which had long been a menace to tribal independence.

The second battle was fought by the Tepanec leaders more on the line of self-preservation and the hope of getting off with a whole skin than with the expectation of doing their opponents material damage.

A desperate conflict ensued, however, in which every inch of ground was stubbornly contested by them, but which, as might have been expected, ended in that wicked and tyrannical son of a barbarian despot--Maxtla--being again discomfited and forced to yield to his hated foe. A disastrous retreat followed, and, had not darkness come on to check the avenging hosts of Tezcucans, who pursued with deadly havoc the vanquished horde, the routed army would have been effectually disintegrated, if not wholly annihilated.

The prisoners, with whom Euetzin was supposed to be, were not found, and therefore not liberated. Thus was defeated one of the chief motives which had led to the sudden advance of the allies.

Victory was won, and with it a crown, but at what a cost to Prince Hualcoyotl's mind, in the contemplation of the awful fate which he now felt awaited his best-beloved friend. Great as was the success achieved, he had no heart, in that supreme hour, for exultation. He bowed his head in sorrow for his lost friend, and, leaving the management of affairs to Ixtlilchoatl and his subordinates, retired to a spot where he could be alone, that he might wrestle with his deep mental distress.

Maxtla, realizing that his army was crushed beyond hope of immediate reconstruction, continued his flight by night, to get as far from the victorious allies as possible before the light of day should reveal to the country the crippled and demoralized condition of his army. No stop was made until he had pa.s.sed around and beyond the city of Tezcuco into his own territory, where a bivouac was established, and his warriors given a rest. So far as it could be done, order in his shattered ranks was restored, and the march to his capital resumed and ended.

No acclamations or demonstrations of approval greeted the return of the imperial army to Azcapozalco. With solemn, funereal tread it entered the royal city, which soon became filled with a wail of woe ascending from the bereaved and stricken inhabitants, who mourned for the missing and slain. How different was its departure!

Maxtla did not despair under the greatly adverse conditions in which he found himself after his short and disastrous campaign, but immediately set about reorganizing his army, with a view to recovering his imperial standing. His domain embraced a thickly populated territory, and was not lacking in material from which to reconstruct his depleted forces.

The outcome of it was that, in a very short time, he was better prepared for war than when he went forth to meet the allies.

The prisoners taken in the battles by his warriors were brought safely through, and, as was the custom, placed in confinement to await their doom of sacrifice upon the altars of the Tepanec deities.

Ixtlilchoatl, greatly elated over the successes which had so suddenly been achieved by the armies under him, and, having conceived the idea of giving Hualcoyotl a magnificent reception back to his own, began at once to get things in shape for a grand entry into Tezcuco. Then followed the memorable march to the city, which, we are told, was one continued ovation to the returning prince. "He entered his capital,"

says the chronicler, "not like a proscribed outcast, but as the rightful heir to a throne, receiving, at the same time, the homage of his joyful subjects." His triumph was complete, but, with it all, there was an aching void in his heart: his enemy had escaped, and carried with him, as he supposed, the best of all his friends.

He was back in his palace, surrounded by the men who had stood with him in the fierce and deadly conflicts through which he was compelled to pa.s.s to reach it. Ix, the warrior hermit, whose intelligence and sagacity had directed the army to victory; Macua and his princely consorts; Tezcot, the wise hunter and good friend; Cacami, now a warrior whose undoubted bravery and skill were conspicuously shown in more than one furious encounter, and which were fully appreciated by the prince; and Menke, Oza and Kan, and many others who have held no particular place in our narrative, yet worthy of it when valorous deeds are considered, were there engaged in celebrating, in an enthusiastic manner, the event of their lives--the victorious close of a remarkable conflict.

Now, indeed, was Tezcuco free from Tepanec enthrallment, her people restored to their ancient privileges, and her prince brought back from an outlawed condition to the enjoyment of his inherited rights.

The power of the military immediately supervened, but its rule was not oppressive, for Ix, the hermit, was not a tyrant.

The greatest activity in all things suddenly became apparent. The king's palace quickly became a scene of rustling animation. While artisans were laboring to restore it to its ancient splendor, the prince and his attendants were busily engaged in bringing order out of chaos. Ah, how he missed his two best friends, Euetzin and Itzalmo, in that hour of incipient well-being and future greatness!

The teocallis were receiving needed attention, after years of neglect and waste, in antic.i.p.ation of the coming rites, which were to be celebrated in honor of the prince's coronation.

The spirit of self-interest and industry, which had lain dormant in the hearts of the enslaved Tezcucans since the subversion of their government, was revived with their restoration to liberty, and activity prevailed where only a few days before was lethargy and inaction.

Wonderful transformation! The people were free!

CHAPTER x.x.xIII.

We will turn once more to Zelmonco villa, on which sorrow has again fallen through the afflicting hand of war.

It is a beautiful evening, an hour after the night-shades have swept away the last gleam of day. The moon's golden-hued disc is beaming refulgently down upon the glowing face of Anahuac. The unruffled foliage of shrub and tree is overcast with a silvern tinge, the reflection of Luna's mellow light on Nature's inimitable green, while, like groups of twinkling stars from afar, are seen in the distance the sacred fires which light up every temple's summit, and which are never permitted to go out. At such an hour, in which inanimate Nature, superbly robed and serenely smiling, wholly unresponsive to the sorrow which saddens her animate sister, as represented in the grief-stricken inmates of the villa home, we are privileged, as visitors, to stroll in the direction of the old oak tree, under which, in the past, the now mourning Itlza has found her chief pleasure in idle moments. As we approach the spot the first object to attract our attention is the flowerlike appearance of the beautiful fountain. We pause for a moment to view with delight the graceful turn and fall of its translucent waters, which resemble in the moon's soft rays a great white lily. In the excitement of our admiration we are led to repeat, mentally:

"Into the moonlight, whiter than snow, Beautiful, flower-like, ceaseless thy flow. Glorious fountain----!"

What sound is that which breaks in upon our reflection, scarcely louder than a murmur, rising in gentle undulations above the ripple of the fountain's flow as it falls into the effervescing pool below?

"My heart is sad--very, very sad, and were it not for your safe return, O Cacami, desolation would, indeed, overwhelm me."