Off from Lake Tezcuco, in the direction of Tlascala, the country is
rough and mountainous, and, at the time in which our story is laid, was
a wild and woody district. We are not informed as to what nation or
nations then possessed this territory; but, from the fact that it was a
common hunting-ground, and frequently invaded by bands of soldiers,
irrespective of tribal connections, it may be inferred that it was
regarded neutral. Since this phase of the question is best suited to
our purpose, we accept it as the true one.
Notwithstanding the wildness of the country, it had its denizens,
though few in number and sparsely located. There were narrow, level
stretches of ground-plateaus, found here and there on the range,
sometimes extending for miles around the base of a mountain, or along
the cliffs and crags which abounded. These plateaus, in most cases,
were places of habitation; the men occupying them being of a class who
preferred the life of a free mountaineer to living in the thickly
settled districts. The territory was extensive, and game, consisting of
wild fowl and small animals, was abundant. Herein was the charm which
made a life there one of preference to those who found a home upon it.
The occupation of the inhabitants was, therefore, chiefly that of
hunting; and it may be added, in this connection, that many of the
markets of the valley towns and cities were indebted to them for their
supply of wild meats.
Some of the more thrifty and accumulative residents cultivated the
plateaus on which they had fixed their habitations. When such was the
case the mountaineer divided his time between farming and hunting; and,
in some instances, a surprising degree of prosperity and comfort was
the result. The better class prided themselves on their hospitality,
and often carried it to a fault, to the truth of which hunters from the
valley, and others who made excursions into the district, were ever
ready to bear witness.
The most prominent person living in this mountainous region, and one
who will hold a conspicuous place in our narrative, was a man named
Tezcot, who did farming, besides being a most successful hunter. He was
a person of intelligence, and showed in his intercourse with men that
he had been well trained in his youth. He was never heard to refer to
his early life, and all that could be learned of it was, that, for
causes best known to himself, he had cut loose from his people, and,
with his young wife, sought and found a home among the free hunters of
the mountains.
As the years passed, this man grew in the estimation of his fellow
mountaineers, until his position among them became one of preeminence.
His goodness of heart, integrity of purpose, and excellent judgment
made him a wise counselor. He was, consequently, consulted on all
questions of importance. His advice was invariably good, and his
decisions on questions referred to him for adjustment were always
acquiesced in. As a result, peace and harmony prevailed where confusion
and discord might otherwise have been expected. He was nominally the
hunters' chief, ruling them by the power of his wisdom, integrity, and
kindness.
Tezcot's dwelling was, comparatively, of a superior character. It was
constructed of stone, and thatched with maguey leaves, and contained
several apartments designed for supplying the needs of a family.
Commodious porches protected its front and rear from the heat of a
tropical sun, and furnished a pleasant retreat in leisure hours for the
inmates. It was, altogether, a very convenient mountain home.
In addition to the dwelling there were quarters for servants, whom the
mountaineer kept to perform the necessary labor about the place.[6]
[6] NOTE.--Voluntary servitude obtained among the
Anahuacans, and of this class were those who served with
Tezcot, the hunter.
The farm work was conducted mostly by an experienced and trusted
vassal, while much of the master's time was spent on the mountains in
pursuit of game.
Tezcot's household consisted of himself, his wife, and two daughters.
The eldest daughter, who was about eighteen years of age, was a fine
specimen of the Indian maiden, the pride of her immediate friends, and
an object of admiration to all who knew her. She was known among the
denizens of the range as the "Mountain Princess," to which appellation
she was certainly entitled, if personal graces and womanly charms,
together with the prominence of her father, counted in the elemental
forces which fixed upon her a title so expressive of the high esteem in
which she was held. Mitla was the name bestowed upon this nymph of the
hills by her parents, and by which she will hereafter be known.
The second daughter of the hunter was not so queenly as her sister,
and, being the younger, was looked upon as little more than a child.
Her fifteen years were not sufficient to gain for her the consideration
accorded the "Mountain Princess." Oxletta, or Oxie, as she was called,
was an agreeable and comely appearing girl, and gave promise of
developing into a splendid woman.
The mother was not an old woman, and still possessed much of the
attractiveness and vivacity which had undoubtedly distinguished her in
the bloom of womanhood. From her the daughters inherited much of the
comeliness which marked them as objects of admiration and esteem. Her
name was Xochitl, signifying wild flower, which evidenced, in its
application, no small degree of loveliness even in the first years of
her life. She was called "Zoei" by her acquaintances, and it fitted her
well, so expressive of affection and gentleness, prominent
characteristics of her disposition.
The daughters were given all the advantages possible under the isolated
circumstances with which they were surrounded. The father and mother
were fairly well educated, and through their efforts the girls became
proficient in many things. Aside from being instructed in the history
and traditions of their race, they were well trained in domestic
affairs.
It is said of the Aztec women that they were adepts in the culinary
arts. Their tables, when the occasion required it, we are informed,
were replete with deliciously prepared sauces, confections, and other
delicacies, which would have tempted the most fastidious epicurian
palate; and Zoei, the good wife of the hunter Tezcot, was not an
exception.
Spinning, embroidery, and featherwork were also considered essential
accomplishments, in which the sisters were thoroughly instructed by
their mother.
Featherwork was an art of peculiar interest to the Anahuacans, and they
greatly excelled in it. Abundant material for its practice was always
at hand in the beautiful plumage of the myriads of tropical birds: the
parrot, the hummingbird, the pheasant, and many others of the feathered
tribes which might be named, congruous to that latitude and country.
In addition to her other attainments, Mitla was a fine archer, and was
often to be found on the mountains in pursuit of its practice.
* * * * *
It was evening, and the twilight was rapidly verging into night. At
this hour three persons might have been seen wending their way around
the southwestern slope of the mountain at the base of which stood the
dwelling of Tezcot, the hunter. The fast fading light of the departing
day penetrated with its crimson-tinted rays the thickly standing trees,
throwing sombre shadows athwart the pathway of the sojourners, warning
them of the nearness of night. It was evident, from the rapid movement
of the party, that they were not unfamiliar with the rough trail they
trod. They were moving along in single file. In the lead was a man of
large mold, who, though apparently past middle life, was yet in the
prime of manhood. Upon his back was strapped a javelin and bow, with an
accompanying quiver, which, with his general appearance and dress,
distinguished him as a hunter. His companions were following closely
behind him, bearing a heavy burden between them, the end of the pole or
support of the burden resting on a shoulder of each. They were silent
as the noiseless forest through which they moved. Not a sound was heard
save the measured tramp of their feet as they hastened on. Finally
emerging onto the plateau, and seemingly relieved from the sense of
solitude with which the deep silence of the forest had impressed them,
the hunter said:
"It is a heavy load ye bear, lads; but the end is near, and ye'll soon
be rid of it."
"Yes, master," said the foremost man; "it is, indeed, a heavy load, and
would try us greatly to go much farther."
"Think what is ahead of ye yonder: a bracing meal, and, by my life, ye
shall have a refreshing mug of _pulque_[7] to wash it down. D'ye hear?"
returned the hunter, encouragingly.
[7] NOTE.--An intoxicant, made from the juice of maguey,
pronounced pull-k[=e]--a drink much used by the Mexicans to
this day.
"Ah, good master, you are very kind," answered the man.
"If to be mindful of a willing hand is kindness, then be it so, lad,"
was the hunter's benignant reply.
The hunter and his companions were now moving along the border of a
narrow stretch of level ground, which extended far around the mountain.
They suddenly rounded a sharp point which brought into view a dwelling,
from which a faint glimmer of light penetrated the gathering darkness.
The dwelling was the home of Tezcot, and the advancing hunter the
mountaineer himself, accompanied by two servants, returning from a
hunting excursion.
As the party approached the house, Tezcot saw that a man, who proved to
be a strange hunter, occupied the front porch alone. When near enough
to speak he stopped, his attendants passing on. Addressing the
stranger, he said:
"Hail, friend! Peace and good-cheer to thee, and welcome to such fare
as may be found in this, my mountain home. I am Tezcot. Who art thou?"
The stranger arose and, saluting, answered:
"The gods be with you and yours, most liberal of hosts. Cacami, a
Tezcucan hunter, is he whom the good genii have directed to this
excellent mountain home, where the tired applicant for nourishment and
rest is ever met by generous impulses and unrestrained hospitality."
Tezcot scanned the stranger with not a little curiosity at hearing his
gracious speech. The language bespoke him more than a mere hunter. He
was a young man, and, from appearances, one enjoying superior
advantages. The mountaineer was very much pleased at hearing words so
eulogistic of himself and his, and could not repress his gratification.
It was his chief pleasure to be reminded that he was generous and
hospitable. He replied:
"Your speech commends us, friend, and we pray it may be deserved. We
can say of a truth, and not boastingly, that no man ever turned from
Tezcot's door hungry or weary."
"What you say needs no proof, generous host; it is but an echo of the
voice of those who have eaten of your bread and drank of your excellent
pulque. No man, in or out of the valley, hath in so great a degree the
esteem and good will of the hunters of Anahuac as yourself. With them
Tezcot is counted the prince of hosts, and a chief among men," added
the stranger, warmly.
"I see, O Tezcucan, whence comes your favorable opinion of us,"
returned Tezcot. "A word of praise from our good friends in the valley
is not less pleasing because it comes to us in this way. May the
favorable impressions of us you bring with you not suffer by personal
contact."
This dialogue was carried on standing, the mountaineer in the meantime
relieving himself of his hunter's outfit. He now suggested that they be
seated, and after being so he turned to his guest and inquired:
"Is this your first visit to these parts?"
"To this locality, yes; to the mountains, no. For several years I have
made occasional incursions to the district in pursuit of that charm
which sometimes leads the best of men--as in your own case--to choose
for a home the most solitary scenes," replied the Tezcucan.
"A wonderful fascination, truly, is found in the life we lead, or how
could we endure its solitude?" answered the mountaineer reflectively;
and again, "You are not one who hunts for profit, I judge?" he added,
interrogatively.
"No, for pleasure only; still I sometimes sell, or permit my men to do
so, when we secure more game than we want."
"You are not alone, then?"
"No; I have two attendants who are being cared for by your servants.
Your good wife has already looked after their comforts."
"And, be assured, O Tezcucan, that they will suffer no discomfort while
under her care," returned Tezcot, showing his appreciation of his
wife's excellence. He then added: "Referring to them, by the way,
reminds me that others are needing refreshment. Zoei!" he called.
"Well, Tezcot, what is it?" came back from within.
"My jacket hangs limp as a dead hare's leg. Haven't ye something to put
under it, eh?"
"Yes, supper is ready. Bring our guest and come."
Rising, Tezcot turned to the stranger, and said:
"Come, friend, you are doubtless as ready as myself to dispatch a good
sized block of well prepared supper. There is nothing like a sharp
appetite and a well loaded board to make a man satisfied with himself
and all the world."
"A philosophical utterance, certainly," returned the Tezcucan,
following his host into the house.
The evening meal consisted of maize bread, cold meats of game, fruit,
and chocolate. The hunter's favorite mug of pulque, which he always
relished after a day on the mountains, was in its place near him, while
one was immediately passed to the guest.
Tezcot was here reminded of his promise to his men, and ordered a glass
of the beverage for each taken to them; then taking his own from the
board, he said:
"Drink, friend, and let our drinking be a pledge of future good will
between us."
"Most cheerfully, kind host; and may I not add for myself, your
excellent family as well?"
The mother smiled and the daughters blushed, while the host and his
guest quaffed their pulque with keen and appreciative gusto.
"Superb!" exclaimed the Tezcucan. "Your friends do not overestimate the
quality of your pulque, and I shall join their ranks at once."
"We are glad it pleases you. Your appreciation is our recompense,"
returned Tezcot, much gratified. "And, now," he continued, "let us try
some of the substantials."
The suggestion was equivalent to a command, and all went to eating.
When the meal was fairly begun, Mitla gathered sufficient courage to
say:
"Father, tell us about your hunt to-day. From the quantity of game
brought in, good luck must have attended you."
"Yes, the day was fine, and brought us extra good luck," he answered,
and then paused to indulge his keen appetite for a moment. "Game was
plentiful," he went on, "and we secured quite a bunch. There were some
fine targets for testing an archer's skill, which would have delighted
your heart, child, could you have been with us."
Mitla was the hunter's favorite, as was Oxie the favorite of her
mother. The father's preference arose from the fact that Mitla, like
himself, loved the mountains and their forest solitudes.
In reply to her father's reference to herself, she said:
"How much it would have delighted me, could I have been with you, I can
not express; but you know how dearly I love to use my bow and arrow;
let that speak for me. You often tell me, however, father, that I am
too tender-hearted to engage in hunting."
"Yes, that's a fact, Mit, and I'm not sorry for it. I would not that ye
were disposed to be cruel, for ye are a woman," he replied, in approval
of her weakness, or, more fittingly, her innate sympathy.
"Your daughter is a fine archer, I infer?" remarked the Tezcucan
inquiringly, addressing the mountaineer.
"Her arrow is true--I might say unerring," replied the father proudly.
"And yet few know that she is an archer, at all."
"My father, you see, is a little extravagant in his praise of my
archery," interrupted Mitla.
"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 constituted, 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 assured, 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 assured 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 assure 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 noble 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.