A Prince of Anahuac: A Histori-traditional Story Antedating the Aztec Empire
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CHAPTER XXII.
Munificent Old Sol, never more brilliant, had covered fully half hisascending course from horizon to zenith, when Tezcot led the threeTezcucans into the hermit's cave.
Ix's deep and sombre-toned voice, always a source of wonder andastonishment when heard for the first time, struck the tzin and hiscompanions as something marvelous, coming, as it did, from the depthsof the cavern, in answer to the hunter's signal.
After the customary salutations between the hunter and hermit, theformer requested that Hualcoyotl should come from his retreat, which hepromptly did. He was permitted to look the party over, while the hunteraddressed him, and, designedly, took up a little time in apologizingfor the liberty he had taken in bringing strangers to the hermitage.The cavern's dim light, together with the dress worn by the visitors,made it quite impossible for the unsuspecting prince to recognize him.When Tezcot realized this fact he said:
"Euetzin, salute Prince Hualcoyotl."
The tzin stepped forward and dropped on one knee in salutation.
Hualcoyotl, recovering from the astonishment which the sudden discoveryof his friend caused him, exclaimed:
"Euetzin, my brother! This is, indeed, a glad surprise. Rise, that Imay greet you as an equal--not as a vassal."
The tzin arose to his feet, and the prince embraced him affectionately.He then inquired:
"Who are these that accompany you?"
"Oza, salute your master," was the tzin's response.
"Oza here, too!" exclaimed, again, the now delighted prince. "I seethrough it all, Oza; to you it is that I am indebted for this mosthappy moment. You have my blessing, and more--your freedom, from thishour!"
The slave had prostrated himself before his master, who now bade himrise.
"I would not be free, master, if it will take me from you," said thedevoted vassal, in reply.
"It shall not take you from me, Oza, except to permit you to march withthe army of liberation. You shall be an honored soldier."
The moment was a happy one for the ever faithful slave, and the changein his condition would only make him a more willing servitor.
"Here, O Prince, is a friend whom you will be pleased to greet, I amsure; for in him you see Cacami, the hunter, who delivered you from theTepanec soldiers on the highway," said Euetzin, turning to his friend,who stood waiting to be presented.
Cacami saluted the prince, who, in return, gave him a cordial greeting,and said:
"Yes, Euetzin, I am more than pleased to know and greet the valianthunter Cacami; for it is a hope realized, an opportunity I have trulywished for. More than gratitude is due from us to him, and when we arein position to requite his service he will find us not unmindful of thefact."
Passing over Cacami's reply, except to say that he deprecated anallusion to the occurrence, which he regarded as a very little thingfor him to do, and, with the presentation of the party to the hermit,who found in the occasion another opportunity in which to be profoundlyimpressive, we leave the friends to engage in explanations andconsultation, and return to Tezcot's.
Mitla was not so bright as was her wont, all through the morning hours.She was inclined to avoid conversation, and sought, more than was herpractice, to be alone. After the mid-day meal she took her archer'soutfit and sauntered off along the plateau, around the mountain. Shewas heedless, alike of time and distance. Her bow was seldom broughtinto use. A parrot or pheasant seemed to have no attraction for her. Inone or two instances, however, when the mark was so conspicuous thatthe attention of a less interested person would have been drawn to it,she let go an arrow with good effect, but showed no animation at theresult; she was manifestly _distrait_.
The afternoon wore on, and Mitla was far from home ere she took accountof where she was, or the distance she had gone. She was in the act offacing about to retrace her steps when she noticed, for the first time,three men approaching from the opposite direction. She did not wish tomeet them, and, turning, walked briskly in the direction from which shehad come. She did not look back for fear of attracting their attention,but, gradually increasing her step, hastened homeward. The firstintimation she had that the men were following, with a view toovertaking her, was when one of them called:
"Not so fast, pretty maiden; we would keep you company."
Mitla turned quickly, in surprise, and discovered that the men hadnearly overtaken her.
Three Tepanec soldiers, not more than a dozen steps away, showing amenacing disposition, was a sight to strike terror to the stoutestwoman's heart. Mitla was terribly frightened at seeing them, and herheart instantly leaped into her throat. There was not a house within amile of where she was, and, if the men meditated harm to her, hersituation was indeed alarming. Her bow could hardly be deemed a meansof defense against the soldiers, who were now close upon her. Whatshould she do? was a question that called for prompt decision. She wasquick of foot and in vigorous health; she might get away from them byrunning. It was worth trying. From the impulse of the thought she gavea bound forward, and shot away from her menacing pursuers like afrightened fawn. The soldiers immediately entered on a determinedchase, and, to her, it now became a run for self-preservation. She keptup well for a short distance, and then began to flag. The shock fromher fright, together with the awful sense of dread which filled herheart, unnerved her, and a growing weakness followed. She thought ofher friends: if some of them were only near to come to her relief! Butthey were not, and her heart sank lower and lower. By an occasionalglance over her shoulder she could see that her pursuers were rapidlyclosing the intervening distance between them, and would surelyovertake her. It was a terrible moment to the fleeing maiden, who wasnaturally courageous and brave under ordinary circumstances, but, inher present desperate dilemma she became an impotent, helpless thing,about to sink to the earth from exhaustion. The foremost soldier waswithin an arm's length of her, and in another moment she would be attheir mercy.
* * * * *
When the hunters' chief and his Tezcucan companions returned from thehermit's cave, about the middle of the afternoon, the first thought ofthe tzin was of Mitla. On being informed that she had gone around themountain, presumably to do some shooting, he determined to go in searchof her. He saw in the circumstance an opportunity to further hisacquaintance, which he would not fail to improve. He accordingly threwhis hunting outfit across his back, and started off in the directionshe had gone.
Quite a distance had been covered by the tzin when his attention wasattracted to a beautiful golden pheasant which flew into the wood justahead of him. He turned aside to get a shot at it, hoping to secure itfor Mitla. It escaped him, however, and, disappointed, he returned tothe plateau. As he emerged from the bushes he was startled andhorrified at what he saw. Only a few steps away Mitla was struggling tofree herself from the hands of the Tepanec soldiers, who had only justovertaken and seized her. The tzin was upon them in an instant, and,sending an arrow into one and his javelin at another, they were quicklymade to desist. His sword, which he carried more as a weapon of defensethan to be used in the pursuit of game, was raised to strike, butbefore he could use it the villains drew off. He could not follow them;for when Mitla was released she staggered, and would have fallen to theground had he not caught her in his arms, thus saving the miscreantsfrom his deadly _maquahuitl_. Mitla had swooned, and he could only venthis indignation and wrath in words. He exclaimed:
"Beasts, ocelotls, in the guise of soldiers! Were I free to do it, Iwould punish you as you deserve. Go, if you would escape a justretribution for your iniquitous conduct."
One of the soldiers was badly wounded, and they were only too glad toget away, knowing they merited all the punishment and denunciationEuetzin had meted out to them; and more--should they fall into thehands of the mountaineers, they would be summarily dealt with. They didnot wait to be addressed the second time, but moved off as rapidly asthey could with the wounded man to look after.
It was some minutes before Mitla recovere
d sufficiently to free herselffrom the tzin's arms. During the time of her unconsciousness he usedevery convenient means known to him to restore her, and succeeded verywell in his efforts. When he saw that she was conscious, he inquired:
"Have you received personal injury?"
Mitla answered by a shake of the head, at the same time giving him alook of trustful helplessness. The look spoke more than words couldhave expressed, and told how grateful she was for the deliverance hiscoming had brought her, from a fate too terrible for contemplation.
When Euetzin's support was no longer required, he conducted her to aplace where she could be seated, and waited for her to speak. After amoment's pause she turned her eyes, beaming with gratitude, full uponhim, and said:
"It is now Mitla's turn to be grateful. If I have done aught to place adebt upon the prince, or his friends, you have paid it a hundredfold. Ishall never cease to regard you as my preserver from a fate againstwhich death would be a welcome deliverance."
"Any true man, in my place, would have done the same for you," heanswered. "I am entitled to no especial gratitude for doing my duty, Iwould assure you. Because I happened to be here at the right moment torescue you from the hands of those villainous soldiers, the act shouldnot make a hero of me."
He spoke jocularly, hoping to impart cheerfulness by a cheerful manner.
"Your words do not affect the sense of obligation which fills my heart,and that it is so I am glad, for I could not be generous were Iungrateful," she returned, still deeply affected.
"I shall certainly bear in mind, with no little satisfaction, Mitla,that I have earned a place in your remembrance. Let that suffice toreward me for the service done, and think no more about it," hereplied, endeavoring to dispose of the matter by depreciation, in whichhe failed, for Mitla said:
"I am sure you are generous. Will you not, then, permit me to be so,too? Would you have me stifle the feeling which fills my heart--thefeeling of immeasurable gratitude which goes out to you, my deliverer?"
Her eyes shone with intense brightness as she spoke, showing how deepwere the fires of passion in her nature, which only required stirringto become irresistible. The passionate vehemence with which her wordswere uttered was affective. The tzin was human, though a young man withthe profoundest sense of right; for the nonce, however, he allowedhimself to yield to impulse, and replied to her impassioned appeal withthe warmth, almost, of a lover:
"I am reproved. I would not that you stifle one generous impulse ofyour peerless woman's heart. I shall not soon forget the glowfulexpression which but now lighted up your beautiful face--so earnestlyfixed in kindness upon me. The recollection of it will be anever-present reminder of the noble girl I rescued from peril, and whosefriendship I shall always prize."
For these words she bent on him an expression which carried with itmore than gratitude. It recalled him to himself, and he discovered, alltoo late, that he had said too much. He was honorable in a high degree,and held it a discreditable act to encourage in a maiden a sentiment hecould not fully reciprocate. Her passionate utterances had caused him,for the moment, to forget his conscientiousness, and he overstepped thebounds of propriety. He was not in position to play the role of lover,and, recalling what he had said, he became greatly disturbed.
A silence ensued, until, presently, Mitla moved as if to rise, whichthe tzin anticipated by lifting her to her feet. She was sufficientlyrecovered to go home, and, leaning on the arm of her escort, she wasconducted from the scene of her terrible struggle with the villainousTepanec soldiers.