The White Conquerors: A Tale of Toltec and Aztec

by Kirk Munroe

With these words, and without waiting for a reply, the priest turned abruptly away, and in another moment both he and the light of his torch had disappeared. For a minute or so Huetzin stood motionless where he had been left, but as his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, he imagined that a faint light came from the direction he had been told to take. Walking cautiously toward it his ear caught the sound of lapping waters, and in a moment later he stood in the opening of a low water-gate that looked out on the broad lake of Tezcuco. The storm had passed and the stars shone brightly. The cool night air was delightfully refreshing, and Huetzin inhaled it with long breaths. As he looked out beyond the wall of the gateway, he saw a shadowy form of a canoe containing a single occupant, who appeared to be waiting. Believing this to be the means of escape indicated by the priest, he uttered a slight cough.

Instantly there came a whisper of: "Art thou he who would be set across?"

To which Huetzin replied, without hesitation: "I am he."

As the canoe moved to where he stood, he stepped in, and it instantly shot away toward the farther side of the star-flecked waters. Many boats, with twinkling lights, were seen, but all of them were skilfully avoided, until the canoe was among a cluster of little floating islands of artificial construction. Some of these were used as resorts by pleasure-loving Aztecs, and others as small gardens on which were raised vegetables and flowers for the near-by city market. As the canoe which bore Huetzin and his silent companion passed swiftly by one of these, a stern voice hailed them, demanding to know their business and whither they were bound. Receiving no reply, the voice commanded them to halt, in the king's name.

"What shall I do?" asked Huetzin's companion, irresolutely.

"Do as he commands, and when his curiosity is satisfied so that thou art allowed to depart, come for me to yonder chinampa," replied Huetzin, in a whisper. As he spoke he pointed to one of the floating islands dimly outlined not far from them, and at the same time quietly slipped into the water. He swam noiselessly, but with such powerful strokes that a dozen of them placed him beside the tiny islet he had indicated to his companion. He made as though he would land on it, and then, with a sudden change of plan, the motive of which he could not have explained even to himself, he slipped back into the water and swam toward another chinampa that he could barely discern in the distance. It was well for him that he obeyed the instinct forbidding him to land on the first island; for, as he drew himself out on the second, and lay hidden in the tall grasses that fringed its edge, he heard the quick dip of paddles, and the sound of suppressed, but excited, voices coming from the direction of the other. He was startled by hearing his own name coupled with that of his father. It was borne distinctly to him over the still waters, and gave him a certain intimation that the bloodhounds of the chief priest were already on his trail.

Without waiting a further confirmation of his fears, Huetzin hastily crossed to the other side of the island on which he had taken refuge, almost stumbling against the tiny, grass-thatched hut of its proprietor as he did so. The man heard him, and shouted to know who was there. As Huetzin quietly entered the water and swam away, the man emerged from his hut, keeping up the angry shouting that the young Toltec would so gladly have silenced. He soon gained another island, fastened to which he discovered a canoe. Even as he clambered into it and shoved off, its owner, aroused by the distant shouts, came hurriedly to the place where it had been. In another moment his outcries were added to the others, as he discovered his loss. Fortunately the canoe had drifted so far under the impetus of Huetzin's vigorous shove, that it was hidden by the darkness from the eyes of its owner, so that he could form no notion of who had taken it, nor why it had been stolen.

Huetzin lay motionless in the bottom of the frail craft so long as it continued to move. Then he raised himself cautiously and began to feel for a paddle. To his dismay there was none. The careful owner had carried it to his hut, and now the fugitive, though possessed of a boat, had no means of propelling it. Yes, he had his hands! and, kneeling in the bottom of the canoe, he began to urge it forward by paddling with them. It was slow and tedious work. Moreover, it was accompanied by a certain unavoidable amount of splashing. This sounded so loud to the strained senses of the poor lad, that he felt convinced it must reach the ears of his pursuers.

He had made considerable progress and was well-nigh exhausted by the unaccustomed nature of his efforts, but still hopeful of escape. Suddenly he heard voices behind him, evidently approaching rapidly, and his heart failed him as he realized the utter helplessness of his position. He listened fearfully to the approaching sounds, which were coming so directly toward him that discovery was inevitable if he remained in the canoe. All at once his ear detected something which caused such a sudden revulsion of feeling that he could have shouted for joy. The voices were those of a man and a woman, who were talking in the familiar Tlascalan dialect.

"Ho, slaves!" he called in an imperious tone, as the other canoe approached close to his own.