CHAPTER XXXIV.

_AN INDIAN GIRL-CHAMPION._

The ancient and populous city of Cholula was reputed of great

antiquity by the Aztecs, even when they themselves conquered it from

the descendants of its ancient founders. It was the chief seat of

the religion of the empire and of its commerce, and was held in the

most profound veneration by the Aztecs generally, as the chosen abode

for twenty years of their wonderful, benevolent, and wise white god

Quetzalcoatl, whose descendants they took the unknown Spaniards to be

when they first landed on their coasts.

Poor creatures! they were soon undeceived. These new gods taught them

plenty of lessons, truly--such lessons as human nature learns but too

readily. But they taught none of the lessons their wise ancestor and

so-called god had taught of the arts of peace, and civilization, and

wise-living.

But whatever might be the merits or demerits of Cholula and the

Cholulans, the Tlascalan Caciques showed such anxiety that the

Spaniards should give them a wide berth, that at length Cortes somewhat

impatiently exclaimed,--

"Methought the Republicans of Tlascala were reputed a brave nation; but

I see now that there are some they fear, and they are the people of

Cholula."

The eyes of the younger chieftains flashed indignantly at the

imputation, but the grand old centenarian Xicotencatl signed to

them to keep silence. He called to him a young Indian maiden, his

granddaughter, and in low, impressive tones spoke a few words to her.

As the girl listened the crimson deepened in her cheeks, her chest

heaved, and the pair of brilliant dark eyes, she turned upon the

Spanish General, were flashing as proudly as any of those belonging to

the warriors of her country.

Leaving the apartment for a few moments, she quickly returned with a

long leather thong, which she carried to Cortes, and then placing her

small, dark-hued wrists together, she made signs to him that he should

bind them with it thus.

Hernando Cortes was ever gentle with women, and he looked at the

rough leather strap, and at the delicate wrists from which the

gaily-embroidered robe had been thrown back, and met the girl's signs

with smiling shakings of the head for denial. But it was no good. The

young Indian flung back the hair from her low, broad forehead angrily,

and stamped her foot. Then pressing her wrists against each other more

tightly than before, she again held them up to Cortes with an air of

resolution, mingled with something of wistful entreaty he could no

longer resist.

"Best see, Captain," said Cabrera, inquisitively; "best let us see what

the wilful lassie will be at."

"Ay, indeed," agreed Velasquez readily. "I would fain see what rebuke

for your taunt of cowardice, Captain, the ancient white-locks yonder

hath devised, and yon maiden is so eager to carry out."

Even Montoro looked curious enough to see what small play was to be

performed for their edification. Neither he nor any of them thought it

could be anything very desperate, with that slight young girl chosen

for the heroine and only actor.

Accordingly, thus urged, and with the small, gold-sandalled foot still

tapping restlessly before him on the floor, Hernando Cortes at last set

himself to the singular task accorded him, and was not let off, by his

small monitress, before he had really bound her wrists together too

tightly for her to move them as much as a leaf's thickness apart.

Then she walked with erect head and firm steps back to the old Cacique,

where he sat, even that hot day, beside a brazier of burning coals. Old

age had chilled the physical nature, although the brave spirit still

glowed with the generous warmth of youth.

As his granddaughter stood before him he stooped for a moment over

the copper pan of fire. The Spaniards stood at the other end of the

apartment still and silent, waiting for what was to come. With all

their guessing they had not guessed rightly the nature of the lesson

to be taught them.

At the expiration of a few instants the Indian maiden returned back

towards them, walking with calm, slow dignity as before--her head

erect, her full, crimson lips lying lightly and softly together, and

her two bound arms stretched out steadily before her.

At first the Spaniards looked only at her face, and were greatly

puzzled. What had been done to her, or what had she done in that short

interval to prove the courage of her nation? They could not tell the

riddle.

Suddenly the eyes of Montoro fell to her arms, and he uttered a low,

pained cry. But he did no more. He seemed as though he could not move;

for once his readiness forsook him. His friends looked at him, saw the

direction of his eyes, and in their turn they also glanced down at the

girl's arms, and in their turn they also uttered startled cries as they

did so.

There upon the soft, tender young arms lay a glowing coal, eating its

fiery way into the bare flesh. And there came the young and delicate

owner of those agonized arms pacing along slowly, with a calm and

noble bearing and a proudly-smiling face, the champion of her nation's

dauntlessness.

Pedro de Alvarado sprang forward, an unwonted dimness in his eyes,

and snatching away the burning fragment with his fingers, he flung it

out into the courtyard, and then with hasty gentleness unbound the

tortured, swelling wrists, whilst the girl looked up in his face with

a pleased, half-smiling wonder at his pity.

The old Cacique turned to Cortes.

"Will the white-face chieftain or his brothers any longer doubt the

courage of the warriors of Tlascala? They have seen the courage of our

maidens."

"Ay, indeed!" ejaculated Cabrera. "And if the courage of the maidens

of ancient times were anything of a match to it I, for my part, feel

little wonder that in those days there was a race of Amazons. Little

use would there be in trying to keep a wife, after that pattern, in

order with a threat of fisticuffs."

Montoro turned a laughing face round from the young Indian girl, whose

wounds he was examining.

"Is that the way you try to rule your Cempoallan bride, my Juan? I had

scarcely thought it from her looks."

"Ah," was the calm reply, "thou seest, friend Montoro, thou knowest

nought of women and their natures. Sour looks and savage ways always

put the merry light in their eyes, and the laughter on their lips. I

have taught thee a useful lesson, see that it proves profitable."

"When the opportunity shall come," came the answer, but more in earnest

now than in jest, "I will surely try to profit by thy teaching, but the

teaching of thy ways and not thy words."

And then, summoning one of the young maiden's attendants to accompany

them, Montoro went with his docile and grateful patient away to a

quieter apartment.

The girl-heroine had been quite willing to bear the agonizing pain

with uncomplaining fortitude, but she was by no means loth to have the

scorched and blistered sores dressed with a skill and tenderness to

which she had been hitherto a stranger. Doña Marina stood by the while,

gaining a useful lesson, and acting as interpreter.

As the dressing drew to a close the girl said with a sudden tone of

animation,--

"The good white-face seems to think I have done something deserving

praise; will he let me take him to see what my brothers, and their

companions, bear ere they can enter the noble rank of knighthood?"

Her eyes looked so bright and eager that Montoro would have scarcely

cared to refuse the request, even had it been an unwelcome one; but

as it happened to agree most thoroughly with his own desires to see,

and learn, everything that was possible of these wonderful new-found

countries before he quitted them, his assent was almost as eager as the

offer; and a few minutes hence Montoro, accompanied by his faithful

interpreter, and the Cacique's granddaughter, accompanied, as befitted

her rank, by half-a-dozen attendants and Doña Marina, set forth on an

expedition to one of the neighbouring temples.

Gold and glory; or, Wild ways of other days, a tale of early American discovery · 第 34 / 40 章