When his messengers returned to Xicotencatl and displayed their bleeding stumps, the general was troubled, and throughout his army there was consternation, and numbers of warriors declared openly that it was useless to fight men who not only appeared to be invincible, but who could read their very intentions. While in this state of demoralization they were startled by the jingling of bells and the tramp of the dreaded horses, magnified by their fears and by the weird moonlight into a host. The next moment the Spaniards announced their presence by a ringing “Santiago!” and, undeterred by the few stray and feeble volleys of stones and arrows sent against them, they rode into the crowds of natives already in full flight, slashing and riding down in all directions.8
After this lesson Xicotencatl appears to have made no further attempts to molest the Spaniards, although small skirmishing parties, chiefly Otomís, continued to hover round the camp and give the soldiers opportunities for sallies.
Gomara magnifies these skirmishes into daily attacks on the camp by the army, whose divisions take turns so as not to embarrass one another. This caused them to fight better, partly from a spirit of rivalry to surpass the preceding record. The ambition of the natives was to kill one Spaniard at least, but the object was never attained, so far as they knew.
This continued for a fortnight, and daily came also messengers with food to sustain the strangers.9
In order to farther impress upon the Indians that fighting by night was quite congenial to the Spaniards, Cortés set out one midnight to raid and forage in the direction of a large town called Tzompantzinco, which could be distinguished beyond a range of hills, toward the capital.10 The soldiers had not gone far before one horse after another began to tremble and fall, including the general’s. This was regarded a bad omen,