The Second G.A. Henty

by G. A. Henty

  “See, they are after us!” Cuitcatl said, looking back. “Doubtless the Spanish quarters are closely watched, to see who enter and leave them; and the news that a tall young noble had entered was carried at once to the authorities, and the boat was got in readiness to follow when you left, and see who you were and where you were going. However, they will not overhaul us. I bade the officer in charge of the canoes last night to pick me out four of his best men, and in so light a boat we shall travel as fast as that behind us, although they have two extra hands.”

  “Yes, and they have four sitters,” Roger said, looking back.

  “No doubt they had orders to arrest you, and bring you back. They did not reckon on our speed. The two extra men destroy their chances of coming up to us, altogether.

  “Row hard, men. I don’t want that boat to overtake us.”

  The paddlers redoubled their exertions, and the light boat almost flew along over the water. For a few minutes those in the canoe behind also did their utmost; but it was plain that they were falling behind, rather than gaining. Then one of the officials stood up, and shouted an order for them to stop. They were some distance behind, but the words could be plainly heard.

  The Tezcucans looked scared as they heard the words, “In the name of the Emperor.”

  “Never mind them,” Cuitcatl said. “We are acting under the orders of our king. Besides, we are so far away that they cannot be sure their words are heard. If they have any complaint to make they can make it to Cacama, and he will answer them.”

  The boat was soon out of hearing of its pursuer, who fell farther and farther behind, and was a good mile away when they landed at Tezcuco.

  “Run the boat up and lay her by the side of the others,” Cuitcatl said to the rowers. “Then go at once to your homes, and say naught to anyone about the journey you have made. The officials will find out what they want to know as to whom we are, and will care nothing as to who were the individual boatmen who rowed us. Still, it is as well to keep silent.

  “Of course, Roger,” for the lad had asked him to drop the second part of his name, “it will soon be known that you have returned here. With such numbers of persons in the palace, it cannot be hidden; besides, you are well known, by sight, to most people in the town.”

  “I quite see that, Cuitcatl, and perceive no good in trying in any way to conceal myself. These long legs of mine cannot be got rid of, and tell their story too plainly. However, it makes no difference. I shall be safe in the palace, and shall only go abroad in the daytime. They will not venture to try to carry off, openly, one known to be under Cacama’s protection.”

  Cacama, on their return, agreed with Roger that it was of no use to try to conceal his identity; and the lad, after washing the stains from his face and hands, took his accustomed place at the banquet, and was greeted by many of his former acquaintances.

  After the meal Cacama told him that, having heard from Bathalda of the wonderful shooting he had made with his great bow, he was desirous of seeing it; and that by his orders the forester, who had been sent for the evening before by Cuitcatl, had been directing some of the artisans to manufacture a weapon of similar strength.

  “We will go and see how it is getting on,” he said.

  Proceeding to the workshops attached to the palace, they found that the bow was finished. It was constructed of a very tough, but elastic, wood. Three slips of this had been placed together and bound with sinews. Bathalda ran forward when he saw Roger, and taking his hand carried it to his forehead. Roger shook the stout fellow’s hand, heartily.

  “He is a brave fellow,” he said to Cuitcatl, who had accompanied them, “and fought manfully and well. Had he not guarded my back during the fight, I should not be here to tell the tale, now.”

  “We have made the bow according to our instructions,” the head of the artisans said respectfully to the king; “but it does not seem to us possible that anyone can use it. Three of us have tried together to string it, but in vain.”

  “It is a good bow,” Roger said, examining it.

  “Do they shoot with weapons like that, over there?” Cacama asked, nodding in the direction of Mexico.

  “No,” Roger said, “for the most part they use crossbows, and their bows are much smaller than this. The English are the only people who use bows like this. They are our national weapons, and outside our island there are few, indeed, who can even bend them. As to the stringing, it is knack rather than strength. See here,” and taking the bow, which was just his own height, he placed his knee against it, bent it and slipped the string into the notch, with ease. Then holding it at arms length, he drew it till the string touched his ear.

  “It is a great deal stiffer than that I made before, Bathalda; and is about the strength of those we use at home. Now for the arrows.”

  These had been made by another set of men, and were an inch or two over a yard in length, with copper tips.

  While he was examining them Cacama had taken up the bow, but though a strong and vigorous man for his race, he could bend it but a very short distance.

  “It is a wonderful weapon,” he said, “and I should not have thought that mortal man, whatever his color, could have used it. Now, let us go down into the practice yard.

  “Cuitcatl, do you fetch the queen and her ladies, to look on.”

  “I am no great marksman, Prince,” Roger said. “I am perhaps somewhat better than an average shot, but I have seen marksmen who could do feats that I would not even attempt.”

  They descended to the piece of ground, where many of the young nobles were engaged in shooting, and in practice with arms. Roger had often been there before, but had carefully abstained from taking any part in the mimic contests; for he knew that men who are beaten sometimes feel malice, and he was anxious to keep on the best terms with all. Cuitcatl had often urged him to try a bout with himself, or others, with the sword; but this, too, he had always declined, and his friend had supposed that he was aware his skill was by no means equal to his strength. But now the Spaniards had proved to the Mexicans the fighting powers of white men, Roger had no longer any reasons for hanging back.

  As soon as he was seen approaching with Cacama, the Mexicans abandoned their sport, and gathered round. The story of the defeat of a band of Montezuma’s soldiers by the white man had been whispered abroad, and Cuitcatl had mentioned to his friends what he had heard, from Bathalda, of the mighty bow Roger had used; but when they saw the weapon with which he was now provided, their wonder was to a large extent mingled with incredulity. They passed it from hand to hand, tried but in vain to bend it, and murmured among themselves that the thing was impossible.

  “What will you have for your mark,” Cacama asked.

  “One of these targets will do well enough,” he said, pointing to those at which the Mexicans had been shooting.

  These were boards about five feet six in height, and some fourteen inches in width, presenting the size of a man. They were painted white and supported by a leg hinged behind them. The distance at which the Mexicans had been shooting was about forty yards.

  Roger stepped a hundred from one of them, and made a mark upon the ground.

  “An English archer would laugh at a target like that,” he said to Cacama, “but it is nigh three years since I practiced. I have seen men who could with certainty, at this distance, hit a bird the size of a pigeon sitting on the top of that target, twenty times in succession, and think it by no means extraordinary shooting.”

  The queen and some of her ladies now appeared upon a terrace looking down into the courtyard. Roger took the bow, fitted an arrow to the string, and drew it to his ear—a murmur of astonishment rising from the Aztecs. There was a pause for a moment, and then the arrow sped. There was a sharp tap as it struck the target, and stood quivering in it just in the center line about four feet from the ground.

  “The bow is an excellent one,” Roger said, and quickly discharged two more arrows, both of which struck within two or three inches of th
e first. As it was the power of the bow, rather than his own shooting, that Roger wished to exhibit, he now had the target removed a hundred yards farther back, and others placed one on each side of it. At this distance he discharged three more arrows, shooting more carefully than before. All three struck the boards, although at varying heights; and a shout of surprise arose from the lookers on.

  “How far will it carry?” Cacama asked.

  “It might carry another hundred yards, but the aim cannot be depended upon at over two hundred yards, even by good shots,” Roger said. “Of course, the longer ranges are useful for firing at a body of men. I should say that large tree would be about the extreme range. If you will send two men down to it, I will see whether I can shoot as far. We should not see the arrow from here. Will you tell them to stand one on each side of the tree, but well away from it? There is no saying where the arrow may go, at this distance.”

  When two of the attendants had taken their places, twenty or thirty yards from the tree, Roger drew the bow to the fullest and, giving to the arrow the elevation he had been taught, as most suitable for an extreme range, unloosed the string. The arrow, which was of dark wood, glanced through the air. The eye could follow it only a short distance. No sound was heard this time, but in a few seconds the Mexicans were seen running towards the tree.

  “Do not touch the arrow,” Cacama shouted; and then, followed by the crowd, for the numbers had greatly increased, as the news of what was going on had spread through the palace, he walked forward to the tree.

  The massive stem was more than four feet in diameter, and within a few inches of the center, and at a height of three feet from the ground, the arrow was sticking. The Mexicans were silent with astonishment, mingled with a certain amount of awe, for shooting like this seemed to them to be supernatural.

  “And you said you were not a good shot!” the king said.

  “It was a pure accident,” Roger asserted. “I might shoot twenty arrows and not hit the tree again. I had not the least idea that I should do so. I only wished to show you how far a well-made bow would send an arrow, when drawn by an Englishman.”

  Cacama ordered the arrow to be left in the tree, and a large stone to be placed at the spot from which Roger had fired.

  “They shall remain,” he said, “as a memento of this shot. I will introduce, among my people, the custom which you say prevails in your country; and every child shall be bound to practice, daily, with bows and arrows. I do not think that any of our race will ever come to use such a weapon as that, but they may at least learn to bend bows greatly stronger than those we are accustomed to use.”

  “They will doubtless do so,” Roger said. “It is a matter of practice, and of strengthening certain muscles of the right arm; for a man far stronger than I am would be unable to bend that bow, had he not been trained to its use from the earliest age.

  “I should recommend, Prince, that you not only give the order you have spoken of, but institute a monthly gathering, with prizes for skill, and honors to the best marksmen. In this way all would take an interest in the sport, and it would become as popular, among your youth, as it is with us.”

  Again Roger’s bow was passed round. It had seemed to bend so easily, in his hands, that those who had not tried it before could scarce credit its strength, until they had handled it; but even the most powerful men found that they could only draw the arrow a few inches.

  As they walked towards the terrace, upon which the queen and her ladies were standing, Cuitcatl said:

  “I had intended to ask you, Roger, to try a bout of sword play with some of us; but I will not do so now. After what we have seen of the strength of your arm, I should be sorry, indeed, to stand up against you, even with blunted weapons or with sticks; for there would be no resisting a downright blow. The news came to us of the terrible blows struck by the Spaniards, and how they clove through sword, helmet, and head. I scarce credited them before, but now I can well believe them to be true.”

  “Well, Maclutha,” Cacama said; “what think you of what you have seen? No wonder those who met with the white men, in battle, said that they had supernatural strength; and that even the sturdy Tlascalans could not resist them. We will have the bow hung up in the armory, with a great gold chain; which shall be the reward of the first man who can, like our friend, draw the arrow to the head.”

  “It is wonderful,” the queen said; “and it would be well indeed if, as you say, the youth of Tezcuco could shoot like that.”

  Amenche said nothing, but her cheeks were flushed with excitement and pleasure.

  That evening, when Cacama was conversing alone with Roger, he said:

  “My friend, you know that the Tlascalan caziques have given their daughters as wives to some of the Spaniards. I was talking to you of marriage, last night, and what you said about your age was ridiculous. You are a man, and a warrior. I now offer you the hand of my sister Amenche. She loves you, as Maclutha and I have seen for some time. From what you said, I gather that your religion would not regard the ceremony as binding, did she not accept your God; but I do not think she would raise any objection on that score, seeing, as we all do, that your God has proved more powerful than ours.”

  Roger was struck with astonishment at the offer. He had regarded marriage as a matter not to be thought of, for many years; and until lately he would have said that, if he ever did marry, it would be the little cousin who had, three years before, said goodbye to him at Plymouth. But of late he had felt the charm of this beautiful little princess; and since the night when she had come down to say farewell to him, in the garden, and he had felt her hand tremble in his, and had seen a tear glisten on her cheek in the moonlight, he had thought a good deal of her.

  The chances of his ever returning to England were comparatively slight. Dangers of all kinds surrounded him. The Spaniards might be attacked and massacred at any moment, and if so, he would probably share their fate. If, however, he was married to this Mexican princess, and a brother-in-law of the King of Tezcuco, he would be regarded as one of the people. His position would be a high and honorable one, and although his life would be far different from that to which he had hitherto looked forward, it might be a very happy one.

  He sat in silence for two or three minutes after Cacama had ceased speaking, and then said:

  “Forgive me, Prince, for not responding, at once, to an offer so far above my deserts, and of the honor of which I am most deeply sensible. There could be no greater happiness, for a man, than to be the husband of one so fair, and in every way charming, as the Princess Amenche; but your offer came upon me altogether as a surprise. As I have told you, I have hitherto regarded myself as still a lad, and marriage as an event not to be thought of for years; but as you do not regard my youth as an objection, there is no reason why I should do so.

  “It is of the future that I rather think. It seems to me, now, that I could be content to settle down for life here, with so charming a wife; but I cannot say that I might always be of that mind. The love of country is strong in every man, and the time might come when, if opportunity offered, I might long to return home to England.”

  “That I have talked over with the queen, and with Amenche, herself,” Cacama said. “My sister naturally would be sorry to leave her own country, but if the time came that you should wish to return home, she would not hesitate to make the sacrifice, and to accompany you. A Mexican woman, when she loves, is ready to give up everything.”

  For a moment Roger turned the matter rapidly over in his mind, and saw that, even were he disposed to refuse Amenche’s hand, which indeed he was not, it would be almost impossible for him to do so. It would be a deep offense to this friendly prince. It would be a cruel blow to the girl, who had confessed her devotion for him. As to Dorothy, she would have deemed him dead years ago; and should he ever return, he would find that she had long since been married; for the daughters of the wealthy merchant, Diggory Beggs, would not want for suitors.

  He held out his han
d to the prince.

  “I accept most gratefully your offer, Cacama, and promise that, so far as in me lies, I will do my best to render your sister happy, and to prove myself worthy of her choice.”

  “I am heartily glad,” the prince said warmly. “I love my sister, and I have watched you closely. I believe you to be worthy of her, and I am sure that in you I shall find, not only a friend and a brother, but a wise counselor and a valiant leader of my troops; and that, with your advice, I shall be able to advance my people in the arts of peace as well as war, and perhaps to win back my father’s possessions.

  “As to the question of religion, of which you spoke, there is indeed no difficulty. My grandfather, the great Nezahualcoyotl, the wisest and most powerful of our monarchs, did not believe in the Aztec gods. He built a great temple which he dedicated to the Unknown God. Here he worshiped, himself, and did his utmost to induce his subjects to abandon the cruel worship of the Aztec gods. He forbade all sacrifices, even of animals, and permitted only flowers and sweet-scented perfumes to be offered up on the altars. When, after his death, the Aztec power increased, and that of Tezcuco diminished, the people again embraced the cruel faith of the Aztecs. Neither my father nor myself have been strong enough to set ourselves against the priests; but he, as well as I, believed that my grandfather was right, and that the Unknown God is the ruler of the world. My sister has of course, been educated by the priests; but she knows my father’s opinions, and my own. She has a horror of the human sacrifices, and believes that there must be a greater and better God than those who are said to delight in blood. So you need not fear that she will make any difficulty as to accepting what you tell her of the white man’s God.

  “Now I will fetch her in to you. I think it will be better to allow a short time to pass, and to see how matters go in Mexico, before announcing to others your approaching marriage. If any misfortune should happen to the Spaniards, I should at once publish the news, and have the ceremony performed without loss of time; proclaiming to the people that, although white, you are not of the same race as the Spaniards. If matters go on well, Montezuma himself will doubtless be present at his niece’s marriage; and I shall, of course, invite Malinzin and all his officers.”