There was no need to urge despatch in preparations. Each man of the force, native and Spaniard alike, was burning to set forth against the new foe. The foe was equally ready.
But amongst these strange people of the new world were some of the sentiments supposed to belong wholly to the old world's chivalry.
Just as the army was about to set out from its quarters, on that morning of the thirtieth of August, 1519, a long train of people was observed approaching from the distance, bearing an ensign of peace.
Cortes called a halt of his own followers. He and Montoro de Diego, and Father Olmedo, felt most thankful for the turn affairs appeared to have taken, thus at the very twelfth hour. Alvarado and Velasquez, with a good many of their like-minded comrades, it is true, were nothing at all so well contented. They had been living on very short commons the past few days, fare as meagre and unsatisfying as possible, and they regarded the punishment of the unfriendly republicans as a probable means of replenishing their scanty larders.
However, as it turned out, neither content nor discontent had any present foundation. The Tlascalans had also, on their part, it was true, sent an embassage, and a well-laden one. But, although the messengers brought a good deal with them that was acceptable, a request for peace was not one of the offerings.
As the train came near, it was discovered that abundant supplies of food of all kinds were being brought to the half-famished little army. But before they were presented, and to leave no doubt on the Spaniards' minds as to the motives of the gift, one fierce, slim warrior advanced before the company of food-bearers, and with a haughty, undaunted bearing that extorted the respect even of his haughty hearers, he exclaimed—
"See, poor starved-out creatures of a starved-out land, although we refuse entrance to the impious enemies of our gods, we would not that ye should think we grudge, or have need to grudge, you of the bounties that your God, it seems, denies you.
"The Republic of Tlascala sends you food, and in abundance—meat and bread. Eat, and be satisfied. The warriors of Tlascala scorn to attack an enemy enfeebled with disease, faint with hunger. Victory over such would be a vain one. We affront not our gods with famished victims, neither do we deign to feast upon an emaciated prey."
"What a mercy for us," muttered that reckless Cabrera, "since your noble disdain hath led you to feed us thus hospitably."
"For my part also," added Alvarado as quietly, "I would fain try if food will give me back something of the strength of arm their blazing sun hath robbed me of."