Meantime, the footmen began to come up; and as they were intolerably galled by the enemy, who sometimes landed and engaged them hand to hand, they clamored for those in front to move on. “Magarino! The bridge, the bridge! Forward!” With such cries, they pressed upon the horsemen, and reduced the space left them for action.
At length Sandoval shouted,—
“Ola, all who can swim! Follow me!”
And riding down the bank, he spurred into the water. Many were bold enough to follow; and though some were drowned, the greater part made the passage safely. Then the cowering, shivering mass left behind without a leader, became an easy prey; and steadily, pitilessly, silently, Hualpa and his people fought,—silently, for all the time he was listening for a woman’s voice, the voice of his beloved.
And now, fast riding, Cortes came to the second canal, with some cavaliers whom he rallied on the way; behind him, as if in pursuit, so madly did they run, followed all of the central division who succeeded in passing the bridge. The sick and wounded, the prisoners, even king Cacama and the women, abandoned by their escort, were slain and captured,—all save Marina, rescued by some Tlascalans, and a Spanish Amazon, who defended herself with sword and shield.
At points along the line of flight the infidels intercepted the fugitives. Many terrible combats ensued. When the Christians kept in groups, as did most of the veterans, they generally beat off the assailants. The loss fell chiefly upon the Tlascalans, the cross-bowmen, and arquebusiers, whose arms the rain had ruined, and the recruits of Narvaez, who, weighted down by their treasure and overcome by fear, ran blindly along, and fell almost without resistance.
One great effort Cortes made at the canal to restore order before the mob could come up.
“God help us!” he cried at last to the gentlemen with him. “Here are bowmen and gunners without arms, and horsemen without room to charge. Nothing now but to save ourselves! And that we may not do, if we wait. Let us follow Sandoval. Hearken to the howling! How fast they come! And by my conscience, with them they bring the lake alive with fiends! Olmedo, thou with me! Come, Morla, Avila, Olid! Come, all who care for life!”
And through the mêlée they pushed, through the murderous lancers, down the bank,—Cortes first, and good knights on the right and left of the father. There was plunging and floundering of horses, and yells of infidels, and the sound of deadly blows, and from the swimmers shrieks for help, now to comrades, now to saints, now to Christ.
“Ho, Sandoval, right glad am I to find thee!” said Cortes, on the further side of the canal. “Why waitest thou?”