form of a heavy rain, which fell all Sunday. It was the beginning of the rainy season.39 Most of Narvaez’ men, unused to military service, and enervated by the frivolous inactivity of the camp, found this highly disagreeable, and began to complain at what they termed an unnecessary precaution against an insignificant foe. The friends of Cortés did not fail to take advantage of this feeling by ridiculing the manœuvre, representing that no troops, much less a handful of boasters, would think of attacking in such weather. They would in any case be far more secure within their strong quarters, and by leaving an advance post in the field timely warning could be given. This appeared to be reasonable, and since Narvaez by no means relished the exposure, he gave orders to return to quarters before dusk, leaving, however, a body of forty horsemen on the plain and two spies at a brook ford, about half a league off. The remainder of the horses were kept saddled at the entrance to the camp, and the men were instructed to sleep on their arms, prepared at any rate to reoccupy the field in the morning. The watchword was ‘Santa María.’
Cortés was occupied in devising new measures when informed of this movement. Pointing out to his men the effeminacy and unsoldierly qualities of the rabble with which they had to deal, and the carelessness and inefficiency of their commander, he ordered an immediate advance on Cempoala, where they would now be scarcely expected. > “You know the maxim,” he said, “‘upon the enemy at dawn;’ but better still, we will surprise them by night.40 Let each strive to excel his comrade in valor.” These words were received with hearty approval, for anything was preferable to suspense in a dreary bivouac without fire or comfort. Crossing the creek they marched noiselessly over the plain, through the rain, drenched and hungry. On reaching the brook, near the town,