The Spaniards were rejoiced when they saw the beautiful city, for they thought that its splendid palaces and treasures would soon be theirs. Montezuma led Cortez into the city and gave him a large and elegant building for his quarters, and to every soldier in the army magnificent presents were made. The army was quartered in the great central square, near the temple of the god of war; it was in the winter, and for a month Cortez remained quiet; he and his soldiers were allowed to go about, and were even permitted to enter the temples and examine the altars and shrines, where the Mexicans offered up human beings every day as sacrifices to their gods. But the thing that interested the Spanish general most were the vast treasures of gold and silver, the huge storehouses filled with provisions, and the great arsenals filled with bows and arrows. He saw that the Aztecs were well prepared for war, and began to grow a little alarmed for his own safety. He knew that by lifting his finger Montezuma could fill all the squares with armed soldiers, and prevent the Spaniards from leaving the city, and he knew also that the Indian warriors were no longer afraid of his men, as they were at first, when they thought them immortal; so thinking over all these things, Cortez resolved upon a bold plan. He knew that if he could get possession of Montezuma the people would be afraid to make war on him; so, one day, he asked Montezuma into his quarters, and then refused to let him go out again, saying that he would kill him if the people should attack the Spaniards.

Cortez was now obliged to leave Mexico for a short time to oppose a force that had been sent against him from Cuba. While he was gone, Alvarado, the general he left in command, attacked the Mexicans one day when they were celebrating a great feast, and killed five hundred of their priests and leaders. The Aztecs became furious, and attacked the palace where Alvarado and his men were, and they would soon have conquered the Spaniards had not Cortez come back just in time.

Cortez tried to make peace, but the Mexicans would not listen to him. In a few days the fighting began all over the city, and the streets were stained with the blood of tens of thousands. Then Cortez compelled Montezuma to go upon the top of the palace, in front of the great square, and ask his people to make peace with the Spaniards. The Aztecs worshipped Montezuma as a god, and when they saw him standing on the palace roof, they dropped their weapons on the ground, and every head was bowed with reverence. But when he asked them to make peace with the Spaniards, they grew very angry and immediately began fighting again. Montezuma was wounded twice by their arrows, which so alarmed the Aztecs, that they stopped fighting again; but soon the battle re-commenced, and in a few days Cortez was compelled to leave the city. In the meantime, Montezuma had died in the Spanish camp; the Spaniards had treated him kindly toward the end, and had nursed his wounds, but he refused to take any food, and died at last from a broken heart. Cortez now saw that there would have to be a great battle fought, so he made ready his men. On the morning of the battle he looked out from his camp and saw the Mexican soldiers extending as far as the eye could reach; he trembled when he saw this great army of men, knowing that his own troops were few, but he resolved to conquer or die. Without giving his men time to think, he began to attack the enemy; at first the Aztecs gave way, but others came in their stead, for the whole valley was lined with armed Indians. The Spaniards gave up hope, and prepared to die, but just then, Cortez advanced to the Mexican standard-bearer and snatched the sacred standard from his hand. The Mexicans believed that on this standard depended the fate of every battle, and that if it were captured, there was no use in fighting any longer. Cortez knew this, and when they saw it in his hands, they threw down their arms and fled to the mountains, and thus the Spaniards won the battle.

And so Cortez conquered Mexico, and all its vast wealth passed into the hands of the Spaniards; its fertile valleys and rich plains, its beautiful capital and prosperous villages, its great mines of gold and silver, its thousands and thousands of inhabitants, all became the property of the King of Spain, a man who cared nothing for the conquered people, but thought only of the great wealth that had so unjustly become his. The gold and silver mines of Mexico were then the richest in the world, and the conquered Aztecs were obliged to work in these mines as slaves, but the gold and silver was no longer used to ornament their temples and palaces; it was sent across the sea to Spain, who thought more of gold than she did of honor or justice.

It was in the year 1521 that Cortez conquered Mexico, and for three hundred years it was ruled by Spain; at the end of that time it became again free. The Mexicans of to-day are partly Indians and partly Spanish in race, but there are some who remember with pride that they are the descendants of the ancient Aztecs, and they point to the ruins of the great temples, which may still be seen in the new Capital, as an instance of the wealth and power of their nation when the Aztecs ruled from ocean to gulf, and when from mountain peak to lowest valley every heart beat with pride in thinking of the glory of the kingdom which Montezuma called his own.

[CHAPTER XII.]

PIZARRO AND THE CONQUEST OF PERU.

Francisco Pizarro was a little Spanish boy who was very poor and very miserable. Living in a beautiful valley where the climate was agreeable, and where one might gather grapes and chestnuts and oranges at will, it might have been quite possible for him to be poor and happy, too, but there were many things about Francisco's lot that were harder to bear than poverty. Many other children dwelt in this pleasant valley, some of them as poor and wretched and ragged as Francisco, and others who were rich and well clothed and happy. Not far from the little hut that was Francisco's home was a stately castle, where a great duke lived, and the little boy would often go and stand by the stone wall that enclosed the grounds, and wonder how it would seem to live in that splendid mansion, and be allowed to walk in its beautiful parks. Once in a while, when the gates were opened to let in a crowd of gaily-dressed visitors, or when the duke, at the head of a laughing party, went forth on a merry hunting expedition, he would catch a glimpse of the velvet lawns and shady trees and gorgeous flowers, and could see children dressed in dainty garments, and sometimes wearing beautiful jewels, playing on the grass or swinging under the trees. And Francisco would look and look with eyes big with wonder till the gay party had passed and the gates swung back in his face, and he was left out there in the dusty road alone. And then he would turn and watch the hunting party until the brilliant scene faded quite away in the distance, and he was once more left alone. It always seemed to him that no matter how gay or happy this bit of the world might seem, it always ended in his being left outside of that gray stone wall, alone and hungry and ragged, and that in fact these glimpses of another, happier life were only after all just like his dreams, which were sure to fade away when morning came. He could not help sighing sometimes and wishing that the dream would go on for him just as it did for the other children inside the stone wall. Once it did go on just a moment or two, for one day as he stood dejectedly by the gates, they opened, and a beautiful child came out who spoke to him kindly. He was dressed in a suit of velvet, and his long hair fell in curls over his shoulders, and in his cap was a little pearl ornament which fastened a bird's wing. And Francisco, as he looked at the wing, thought he had never in his life seen anything so wonderful, for the feathers were soft like velvet, but glowed and burned in the sunlight like the rubies in the ring on the child's hand.

He raised his hand and touched the lovely object, and the wearer of the cap, being as kind-hearted as he was beautiful, began to tell Francisco the story of the wing—how it had been given to him by a great soldier, who had brought it from a long way off, farther than he himself had ever been; farther than the mountains or the sea even.

Francisco wondered at this, and when the child passed on he stood still thinking a long time; it seemed so strange to hear that there were other places and countries besides this quiet little valley where he had always lived. Then he went back to his work, disagreeable work it was, very, for he had to watch the swine and keep them from straying off; but that night his dreams were brighter than ever, for he dreamed that he had visited those strange lands that he had heard of from the child, and that he had found enough treasures there to make him rich and great. The morning came and the dream was gone, but it left behind a thought that did not go away. And always after the boy Francisco carried with him the resolve to make his dream come true. But for many years there seemed no hope of anything beyond the mean life he was living, and sometimes he quite despaired. He was very proud and ambitious, too, and his lowly lot in life seemed all the more bitter when he compared it with that of the more fortunate boys who had good comfortable homes and could go to school. He thought that he should have a good home and go to school too, for his father was a man of wealth and of good birth; but his mother was only a peasant, and it was with her he had always lived, and the poor woman could not afford to bring up her child in comfort, or even to have him taught to read and write. And so Francisco grew to be a big boy, and still watched the pigs from morning till night, and still sighed restlessly to get away from his distasteful life, and find one fairer and nobler.