whether it would afford him shelter and aid. He knew that the loss of so many of its warriors under his banner had brought wide-spread affliction, which might turn to hatred toward him as the cause. Thereupon he talked to the Tlascaltec chiefs who were yet alive, and endeavored to stir in them the thirst for revenge, and excite their desires for rich spoils and increased domain.[1]
Besiegers and besieged sat watching each other the whole day, but the latter made no signs of stirring. Thinking that they would not venture forth for some time, many of the former began to file off homeward, leaving, nevertheless, a strong force round the hill. Cortés feared that the morrow would bring them back with reinforcements and make escape difficult. Trusting again therefore to the darkness, now joined to the more advantageous circumstance of an open field, he set forth, leaving the fires blazing to lull the watchfulness of the foe. Eight captains were appointed for the different sections to maintain the arranged order of march,[2] Cortés with a portion of the cavalry taking the rear, as the post of danger. The rest of the horsemen led the van, while the sound infantry formed a cordon for the centre, wherein the wounded were carried in hammocks, or hobbled along on hastily prepared crutches, a few being taken up behind the horsemen. The rear had hardly left the temple before the enemy were upon them with swords and lances, many of the captured and recovered weapons of the Spaniards being now used against themselves. But the attack was not severe, partly because the pursuers had been reduced to irregular bands from the mainland settlements, whose chief object was plunder. At dawn the town of Calacoayan was
