It was night, and black darkness enveloped the mountain, especially within the dense woody growth which covered it. The prince stole noiselessly forth from his hiding-place, and with that stealth which is characteristic of the American Indian, passed down the mountain's side, and out onto the plain below. Food in abundance was just before him, but to undertake to secure it would be at the risk of discovery, and, possibly, death. The maddening pangs of hunger were impelling him on; and in his starving condition the tempting food, which was almost within his reach, outweighed the instinctive sense of self-preservation. With cat-like tread he moved away from the mountain's base, knowing that, at any moment, he might come upon a camp of his enemy. In his weak and nervous condition the noise made in the rustling of a leaf, or by the breaking of a twig, was magnified a dozenfold in his imagination.
Though desperation was leading him on, the prince did not for an instant relax his vigilance.
At last he was in the midst of plenty; fields of corn just in the milk, and fruit, on shrub and tree, to be had for the plucking. Securing a quantity of each, he started to return. The same watchful vigilance was observed returning as in going out. He was moving cautiously along, with his senses wide awake, when a sound, very like the noise of some one moving near him, arrested his attention.
"Pish!" he ejaculated, after listening a moment. "'Twas but the flapping of a wing by some nightbird."
The thought had scarcely crossed his mind when a screech most dismal, and quite close, struck upon his sensitive ear, sending a chill to his very heart. Reduced as he was by hunger, with nerves up-strung to their utmost tension, the shock was very severe, and he felt, for an instant, as if he would sink to the earth.
"What a woman I have become!" he muttered, chidingly, to himself. "This will not do. To allow the scream of a bird to affect me thus is cowardice."
Bracing himself against further weakness, he resumed his cautious movement toward the foot of the mountain. When he reached it, he attempted to ascend, but now, that he was in a measure safe, the nervous rigor and force of will, which had sustained him, relaxed, and he was compelled to sit down until his exhausted powers were restored.
While he lingered thus, his thoughts reverted to his palace home; to old Itzalmo, his faithful friend and counselor; to Euetzin, his companion and confidante, and to Zelmonco villa, the home of Itlza. Thoughts of her awakened a pleasurable thrill in his soul, and his features softened under the touch of a sentiment which, if not love, was something very nearly akin to it. To himself he said:
"Am I, indeed, in love with my friend's sweet sister? Yes, it must be so; for I feel that I could sacrifice the man who would dare to come between us!"
When he felt himself sufficiently recovered to ascend the mountain, he arose and proceeded slowly up its side, and on toward his retreat. As he approached his hiding-place he became more wary. What if, in his absence, his retreat had been discovered by his enemy? The thought impressed itself upon him so forcibly that he paused frequently to listen for unusual sounds; but nothing reached his ear save the low and familiar murmur of the night winds, lulling, with their monotonical song, nature's wearied hosts to rest.