peat the decoy surprise. Advised of this by two captives, Cortés sent six brigantines by night to hide near the spot, leaving one to cruise about for canoes. Some of these soon appeared, and the sailer pursued them for a distance toward the hiding-place of the Mexicans. Suddenly she turned about as if afraid of stakes. Observing this, the forty piraguas ventured forth and were allured toward the Spanish ambuscade. At the proper moment the six vessels came down upon the pursuers, overturning and sinking a number, and capturing others, together with many warriors. The Mexicans attempted no further naval surprises.[1]
By the night cruisers and the Chinampanecs, supplies were nearly all cut off, and gaunt hunger began to stalk the streets of the fated capital. The ravages of the fleet and the flotilla along the eastern suburbs had rendered these wholly untenable, and the southeastern district had been desolated by Cortés' divisions, compelling the inhabitants to abandon the greater part of Tenochtitlan and concentrate chiefly in Tlatelulco. These two main divisions of the city had been rivals ever since its foundation, with frequent disputes to sustain the flame of discord. Gradually the Tenochtitlans had assumed the sway, honored by imperial presence, while the other division had assumed a plebeian stamp, patronized by the former. During this common misfortune, however, rivalry was forgotten, and the more warlike Tlatelulcans unhesitatingly aided the others and now welcomed them into their quarter.[2]
Every loss of allies to the Mexicans was a corre sponding gain to the Spaniards, less in regard to fresh auxiliaries than to the relief from hostile attitude and to supplies. The Chinampanecs, for instance, were ordered to bring material and construct barracks along
