enemy, who were comparatively safe behind the bulwarks fitted to their canoes. Advance was soon stopped by the first trench in the causeway, not only wide and deep, but protected on the farther side by strong breastworks. The situation was embarrassing. Falling back a little, with the loss of one man, the guns were brought forward to protect the allies while filling the gap; but at this juncture two Tezcucans informed Cortés that they could guide him across by a fordable passage.
The offer was eagerly accepted, and while a part of the forces attracted the foe to the causeway, and the horses covered the rear, Cortés led another party by the ford. The water reached only to the waist, and though the enemy hastened forward, resistance was in vain, and soon the town was reached, and all who had not escaped immediately surrendered. Good spoils were secured of fabrics and other merchandise, as well as some gold. Since the canoe fleet might attempt a night attack, it was not considered safe to camp on the island, and as the army withdrew to the plain one league beyond, a part of the town was fired, in further warning. Xaltocan had more than once before risen from her ashes, but these were the flames
of her funeral pyre. She never assumed importance again, and is now but a pretty village.
The next camp was formed in Quauhtitlan, “a large and beautiful city,” as Cortés calls it, which was found deserted. Thence they followed the route which had been taken after that night of ineffaceable horrors, when the foe seemed to fill the air and beat their faces in the blackness like the birds of Avernus, cutting off the stragglers faint with wounds and hunger, and sending terror to the hearts of the bravest. Now they came in confident strength, yet again the foe hovered round, though only at a distance, along the safe hill slopes, while from the summits rose pillars of smoke to proclaim the coming of the avengers. They passed through Tenayocan, once the capital of the Chichimec empire, and now