A Prince of Anahuac: A Histori-traditional Story Antedating the Aztec Empire

by James A. Porter

  CHAPTER XXIX.

  In order to make plain certain things which have come under our noticein the last two chapters, it will be necessary for us to go back toTezcot's, and the hermit's cave, and note the doings of our mountainfriends in the interim between the departure from there of Euetzin andCacami and the holding of the tournament at Tlacopan.

  Mitla became a changed girl. She had lived to learn that older heartsthan Oxie's were liable to impressions that wound, and that to fall inlove with a noble was, indeed, a serious matter for a mere mountaingirl to do. Her formerly bright and joyous life was clouded. She wentabout her duties with a half-heartedness, and seemed most contentedwhen alone. Her parents and sister divined the cause of the greatchange in her disposition, and left her to occupy the time as bestsuited her. Knowing so well her generous nature, and how deep was hergratitude to the tzin for her rescue from the rascally Tepanecsoldiers, they were not surprised that her feelings toward him hadbecome those of a consuming passion. They treated her with truesympathy, deeply regretting the circumstances which had led to herunfortunate condition of mind.

  Tezcot became an almost constant companion of the prince and Ix, andappeared to have lost all interest in his hunting exploits.

  The management of the surveillance over the hermitage, which had beenestablished for the protection of the prince, had been intrusted toMenke, who performed the duty faithfully, securing the vicinity of thecavern-retreat from intrusion.

  The prince, on being introduced to the hermitage, thought he sawsomething familiar about its mysterious occupant, and, becominginterested, finally discovered who he was. He was at a loss tounderstand why the hermit, for several days, persistently avoided allallusions to himself, unless it was to satisfy a whim. The fact of thematter was that Ix wished to fathom the character and disposition ofthe prince before openly declaring himself. When he found Hualcoyotl tobe a worthy son of his illustrious father, the hermit gave him hiscordial adherence and valuable counsel.

  It is true that Ix gave the prince and tzin his invaluable assistanceon the occasion of the latter's first visit to the hermitage; and itwas he that inserted certain signs and language in the document whichEuetzin bore away with him, that assured the king of Tlacopan of itsgenuineness, and secured his confidence in the bearer. Of this,however, the prince and tzin were not aware at the time.

  Though only a boy, with no particular interest in government affairs,when his father's sovereignty was so suddenly and disastrouslyterminated, the prince remembered Ixtlilchoatl as a person who stoodhigh in the councils of the king. His discovery of so wise andexperienced an adherent was highly gratifying to him, for he felt thathe needed just such a man to give him counsel. So, after dueconsideration, he decided to make him his supervisor of militaryaffairs, which, subsequently, led to his being placed in command of theallied armies.

  Tezcot was taken into the secret of Ix's identity, which brought anacknowledgment from him as to his own nativity. He was a descendant ofthe Acolhuans, whose gentle nature he inherited, though not a bornTezcucan. The prince and Ix welcomed him to their councils, and hebecame an almost daily participant in their deliberations.

  Hualcoyotl had always been of a thoughtful turn of mind, and, as anoccupant of a lonely hermit's cave, could scarcely have been expectedto put aside a habit which had become a characteristic. In the hours ofrestraint which he was compelled to endure he might have been foundoften in a state of abstraction, when visions of future weal, and,perhaps, exaltation to the high position which his royal ancestors hadfilled, would occupy his thoughts. In these absent moods, which wereonly waking dreams, it was natural that his favorites should be broughtinto an imaginary existence, to give to his fancies a semblance ofreality. Who but Itlza, of Zelmonco, could have shared his dreamings asa queen, the partner of his fancied exaltation, since the affectionateregard of his boyhood for her had, through a later contact, suddenlydeveloped into a passionate desire to possess her for his own. And nowthat there was reason to hope for the early restoration of Tezcuco toher former place among the nations of Anahuac, this desire was furtherstrengthened by the possibilities to which such a state of affairswould give rise.

  On the occasion of his brief stop at Zelmonco villa, while journeyingtoward the mountains, he resolved, as may be remembered, that, shouldthe circumstances warranting it ever obtain, she should become hisqueen; and the resolution had lost none of its force, but, on the otherhand, had become a fixed purpose. So it happened that the drifting ofevents, and the conditions attending them, pointed to the wrecking ofsomebody's hopes, which, apparently, only waited a convenient seasonfor their realization.

  * * * * *

  Successful beyond his most sanguine expectations in the achievementswhich crowned his second visit to Macua, King of Tlacopan, on whichoccasion he found himself a conspicuous figure in the midst of anassembly of men high in authority, who only required the encouragementof a promise of success to make them the determined allies of Tezcucoin a war with Maxtla, Euetzin's first impulse was to go immediately andcommunicate the good news to the prince; but, after calmly weighing thematter, changed his mind, and proceeded first to arrange for themassing and equipping of the secret councils of Tezcuco preparatory totheir joining the allied army. When this work was about completed heleft the chiefs of councils to finish it, and, with Cacami and a strongguard of Tlacopan soldiers, set out with a view to escorting Hualcoyotlin from the mountains. At the same time he carried an urgent requestfrom Macua, the King, for the prince to repair to his palace, to remainthe guest of his majesty until the beginning of hostilities, when hecould take his proper position at the head of the army.

  On arriving in the vicinity of Tezcot's, a suitable spot was found foran encampment, and the soldiers were left to occupy it, while the tzinand his companion went on to the hunter's alone.

  The friends arrived at the mountaineer's house in the afternoon, and,as luck would have it, found the hunter at home. They were received ina very friendly manner by the family, and made to feel that they weremost welcome. Mitla was not so demonstrative as the others, but notless happy that such was the case. She could suppress all outwardexhibition of her feelings, but could not obscure the passionate lightwhich shone from her dark eyes as they rested on him whom she loved tothe verge of idolatry. Euetzin saw the expression of gladness, intensein its fervidness, which greeted him, and, while Cacami occupied theattention of the rest of the family, found opportunity to say:

  "I read my welcome in your eyes, Mitla, which are wonderfully brightto-day, and full of gladness. Their language is better than words, forwords are sometimes deceptive."

  "My eyes would always betray my feelings, yet I do not care now, for Iwould have you know how truly glad I am that you are here," shereplied, the expression of pleasure deepening, if possible, in itsintensity.

  "I am glad if I bring you pleasure. It is worth a longer journey thanwe have made to see you looking so happy," he returned.

  "I wish that words were not sometimes deceptive," she replied, puttinga marked stress on the expression which she borrowed from him, "thenwould I, indeed, be happy at hearing you say that."

  "You do not doubt my sincerity, Mitla?" he questioned, slightlyconfused at having his own words applied to himself.

  "No, I do not doubt your sincerity; at least, not your desire to beso--that would be ungenerous; yet I can not help feeling that yourdesire to give me pleasure causes you to say what your mind, not yourheart, suggests." This was said, accompanied by an appealing look whichthe tzin could not fail to observe. He said, feelingly:

  "I am very, very sorry that you feel so, for nothing that I can saywill make you feel differently." These words were true, and yet nottrue. Doubting, as he did, the character of the sentiment which herpresence ever inspired, honor still forbade the utterance of thedeclaration which would have made them untrue, yet the declarationmight have been consistently made. It was doubt alone, then, which madethem true.

  "I am
sure you speak truly, and that you will be generous in yourthoughts, forgiving a feeling in me which is beyond my control," shesaid, giving him a look at once tristful and yearning.

  "I shall not try to controvert your feelings, for they may be just," heanswered, kindly. "But, Mitla, I must be about my business. Our staymust be very short on the mountains; the time allowed us for coming andreturning will not admit of an hour's extension. However, I will try tofind a little time in which to talk with you before we go away." Heranswer to this was an approving smile; and the tzin turned to Tezcotand informed him as to the object of their mission, and the necessityof its hasty accomplishment. The hunter was quick to appreciate thesituation, and immediately set about getting ready to accompany them tothe hermit's cave.

  Passing over the explanations which followed the party's arrival at thecavern, and the arrangements which led up to the situation as we leftit at Tlacopan, except to say that Euetzin and Cacami learned withastonishment and pleasure the true character of the hermit, andrejoiced with Hualcoyotl in view of the prospective restoration toTezcuco of her great general.

  All saw the importance of Ix's presence, and as well that of theprince, at Tlacopan, and not a moment was lost in getting ready toleave the hermitage.

  Ix was loth to part from his friend Tezcot, who had done him uncountedacts of kindness, and relieved many of his lonely hours with hispresence. He conceived the idea of forming a bodyguard for himself, andproposed that his friend should be made its chief. The project waswarmly seconded by the prince and tzin, and pressed so earnestly byall, that the hunter finally yielded, with the proviso, however, thathis friends, the mountaineers, should be asked to form the guard. Thiswas agreed to, which resulted in the acquiescence of the hunters, andtheir appearance with the army, as we have seen.

  The friends left the hermitage with varied emotions, which we will nottry to interpret. They went slowly down the side of the mountain intothe long ravine, thence out upon a more cheerful lay of the ground,where they found the walking more to their liking. They were in nohurry to reach the hunter's home; for darkness, they decided, shouldcover their entrance to it.

  A half hour after the arrival of the party at Tezcot's found Cacami onhis way to the camp of the soldiers to inform them of the intendedearly departure for the valley on the morrow; and also to make a detailof men to be at the hunter's at an early hour in the morning, to bearthe palanquin in which the hermit was to make the journey. At the sametime Euetzin and Mitla were out for a quiet talk. They were justapproaching the little knoll where their last meeting occurred someweeks before, and he was saying:

  "This spot would presently become memorable to us if our meetings on itshould be continued."

  "Yes, and you might add, for me, at least, not less endeared thanmemorable," she replied.

  "I shall take pleasure in looking back to it, be assured, Mitla, andwill try to imagine that I see you seated upon it in quiet happiness,"he said, as they were sitting down. "And I am going to ask that youwill permit your thoughts to occasionally dwell upon this hour, andthat other; for, Mitla, I wish to be remembered."

  "Can it be, tzin Euet, that you deem it possible for me to forget you,though a cycle in years were added to my natural life? How little doyou understand the heart of woman, especially mine, so full of undyinggratitude," returned the stricken maiden, her voice suddenly subsidingin a hush of sadness; for his words told her that the door of his heartwas still shut against her.

  "You say truly, Mitla; I am, indeed, incapable of understanding theheart of woman, or I would not be continually saying things whichshould be left unsaid. I know very well that for either of us to forgetis an impossibility; for, to do so, it would be necessary to forget anincident, the terrible circumstances of which are indelibly fixed uponeach of our memories. You must forgive my blundering, and believe metruly regretful, Mitla, that I am so thoughtless of speech," said he,contritely.

  "There is nothing to forgive. I am foolishly sensitive, that is all,"she answered, with a sigh. "Forget it."

  "No, Mitla, I shall not forget it," he replied, "but will only let itpass, to be a reminder, in the future, that I must guard my tongue."

  "As you please, but, pray, do not allow it to annoy you," she returned,with an effort at cheerfulness.

  Seeing the effort, and thinking to encourage it, the tzin said:

  "Now you appear more like yourself--more like the Mitla I first knew.Cheerfulness is natural to you, and you should continually court itspresence, for its absence leaves you a loser."

  "I am sorry if it does, for I fear it has forever gone from me," sheanswered, falling into the same sad vein again.

  "I can tell you, Mitla, what will restore your cheerfulness," suddenlyspoke the tzin, as if a happy thought had just then come to him, whichcaused her to look up expectantly. "Come with your father to Tlacopan,and shoot for the archers' prize, which the king has offered."

  "On what occasion is the prize to be awarded? I am not informed," shequestioned.

  "That is true; you could hardly have heard it. There is to be a greattournament soon, at Tlacopan, in which women will contest with bow andarrow for a beautiful prize. Your father and others are going, and youcan come with them. It will do you good to be there and becomeinterested in the contest."

  "It would be very foolish of me to think of winning a prize in acontest with archers who have had experience in the arena," shereplied, dubiously.

  "I do not think so. Your arrow is as true as any that will be there onthat day. Your success would depend on the deliberation with which yourshooting is done. If you are able to compose yourself, under suchcircumstances, I think you could win the prize," he said, persuasively.

  "Would it please you to have me go and shoot for the prize?" she asked,artlessly.

  "It would, indeed, please me, Mitla; and I am sure your chances forwinning it are as good as the best," he replied, with a sincerityequaling her simplicity. His answer decided the matter in her mind, forto please, and, at the same time, be near him, she would have doneanything in reason. She said, by way of acquiescence:

  "If my father will not object, I will go, if only in obedience to yourwish."

  "I am grateful for your consideration of my wishes, Mitla, and shallhold it an honor to have been instrumental in bringing into the arenaan archer who, I am certain, will do credit to herself and her friends.I will obtain your father's consent; so you may consider it settledthat I shall have the pleasure of seeing you shoot at the tourney."

  She answered smilingly, and with evident satisfaction:

  "I hope you will not be disappointed in your debutante."

  "I am sure I shall not be, even should she fail to win," he rejoined,pleased at the happy change the idea had produced in her.

  After some little time spent in explanations and talk about thetournament they were interrupted by Cacami coming along, on his returnfrom the soldiers' camp. They joined him, and together went into thehouse.

  The next morning found the hunter's house a scene of livelypreparations for the departure of the tzin and his party. A rudepalanquin had been hastily constructed in which to transport thehermit, who was not considered equal to the accomplishment of thejourney on foot. Hualcoyotl had been furnished by the tzin with aTlacopan warrior's outfit, which would secure him from detection.

  The soldiers who had been detailed to bear the palanquin were early onthe ground, and everything was in readiness for moving.

  Mitla was sadly disappointed in the result of her meeting with thetzin; there appeared to be no cause for hope in a requital of her greatlove by a return of his. When the moment came for parting she wouldhave slipped away to hide the signs of her despair, which she felt mustbe apparent; but the tzin prevented it by insisting on her going ashort distance with him. So it happened, when the cortege moved awayfrom the house, she was walking at his side; while Oxie, vivacious andhappy, walked and talked with the prince.

  The opportunity for the development of Oxie's suddenly acquiredadmiratio
n for Hualcoyotl into a stronger sentiment had not beenafforded, as in the case of Mitla for Euetzin; she was, therefore,under no restraint, though in that peculiar mental condition whichwould have required but little encouragement to arouse a passionatesentiment which was only slumbering, and not profoundly either.

  The tzin had secured the hunter's promise that Mitla should accompanyfriends to Tlacopan, to be present at the tourney and contest for theking's prize. On learning this she became quite cheerful, in view ofthe fact that she would soon see him again, and the parting, as aconsequence, had comparatively little of sadness in it for her.

  Good-byes were said, and the hunter and his daughters returned to theirhome, feeling that sense of loneliness which ever follows the breakingup of associations that have become dear to the heart.

  The prince bade adieu to the mountains, in the fastnesses of which hehad suffered so much, with no feelings of regret. Ix had learned tolove the solitude of his hermitage, and, while rejoicing in theprospect of being restored to his people and country, felt a tinge ofsadness as he cast his eyes for the last time toward the mountain whichhad given him security for eight long years.