From the crown floated a splendid plume of rich feathers, indicating by form and colour the rank and family of the wearer. The rest of their armour consisted of shields of wood covered with leather, or of reeds quilted with cotton, and all alike showily ornamented, and finished off with a beautiful fringe of feather work.
Their weapons were slings, bows and arrows, javelins, and darts. And for swords, a two-handed staff, about three and a half feet long, in which at regular distances were inserted sharp blades of itztli—a formidable weapon, with which they could fell a horse. They excelled in throwing the javelin, and they were such expert archers that they could discharge two and even three at a time.[9]
And yet with all this, and with an almost superhuman courage besides, the poor, noble republicans were conquered. They had not guns, they had not horses, and they had no keen Toledo blades—those cruel blades that cut their hands through to the bone when they grasped them, in their desperate courage, to wrench them, if it might be, from their adversaries' clasp.
And thus, after fourteen days of grand efforts to maintain their hitherto unbroken freedom, and to preserve the soil of their country from the invader's foot, the Tlascalans found themselves at length so diminished in numbers, so broken in strength, and so utterly helpless against the white-faces' wonderful animals and wonderful weapons, that once more an embassage came from Tlascalan head-quarters to the Spanish general.
Once more the stern-visaged Tlascalan warrior heralded a train of men and Indian maidens, bearing various gifts to the invading force.
Even yet the brave redskin maintained his grave dignity of bearing, but it was tempered now with a deep melancholy, as he exclaimed in tones of heart-stirred grief—
"Behold, ye strange and invincible white-faces, our gods have warned us now that to fight against ye is vain. Ye are few, and we are many; but we are slain, and our sepulchres already overflow, while ye all are still alive. We cannot fight against the gods, if such ye be, or against the gods who fight for you."
"You say well," responded Cortes, solemnly. "It is our God and St. Jago who fight for us, and through them we are as rocks to withstand the assaults of all enemies. But if you come to ask for peace, you will find us to be friends as staunch as we are resistless foes."
The warrior lifted his head proudly.
"We come to offer peace, and we bring gifts as signs of good-will. If ye are, in very deed, fierce-tempered divinities, lo! we present to you five slaves, that ye may drink their blood and eat their flesh. If ye are mild deities, accept an offering of incense and variegated plumes. For we are poor. We have little gold, or cotton, or salt; only, hitherto, our freedom and our arms. If ye be but men of like nature with ourselves, we bring you meat and bread and fruit to nourish you."