Fierce and revengeful, high-spirited and independent, Cortes decided, as soon as he heard of them, that they were the very auxiliaries to be desired in the contemplated conquest. For every step he now made towards the heart of the great empire, gave him fresh evidence of what an astoundingly bold thing he was doing, in adventuring himself and his handful of enfeebled men in such a magnificent enterprise.
"But with some few thousands of these enemies of Mexico, these Tlascalans," he said one evening towards the end of August, when a halt had been called for the night—"with their aid at our back, Diego, we shall go forward right merrily, methinks."
Montoro looked grave. To say truth, the many human sacrifices he had witnessed of late, and the awfully numerous traces of others discovered along the route, had caused some temporary wavering in his sympathies. Just for the time he was not quite sure if he did not think his Spanish sword would, after all, be well employed in slaying some of the bloodthirsty beings who offered up, in sacrifices to their abominable idols, girls and boys and little children, and then held ghastly feastings on their flesh.
He had begun to feel a loathing indignation for these wretched believers in a gross superstition, which made him a more welcome confidant for Cortes than was usual. He was quite ready to have his five hundred valiant Spanish companions reinforced by a few times that number of the natives. But he had heard news from his interpreter, during the day's march, that made him doubtful if such a reinforcement were altogether so likely as the General appeared to think.
"What does thy face mean, Diego, since thy tongue says nought?" asked Hernando Cortes after a few moments' silence. "Forgive me, but it looks nigh as long as yon merry madcap Cabrera is wont to call it."
Montoro smiled slightly. But he grew earnest enough the next instant as he said—
"Cortes, I fear me that thy face also will lengthen when I tell thee that the Tlascalans are meditating war with us, I believe, rather than peace."
"How sayest thou, Toro?" exclaimed that impetuous fellow, Velasquez de Leon. "Sayest thou the rascals have a mind to feel the touch of a good Toledo blade or two? I' faith, under those circumstances it is for them, not us, to draw the long faces, so I warn them."
"And I warn you," said Cortes seriously, "that it is for both to do so. But what is it that you have learnt, Diego? or rather, what reason is given you for these worthy warriors' bad feeling? They are at such enmity with the Mexicans, that one had some right, truly, to count with confidence upon their friendship."
"And I fully believe would have also had it," was the reply, "had you but given any proof that your sentiments towards this emperor bore any likeness to their own. But——"