on the heads of these, scrambling and wading, adding their cries for help to the shrieks of despair beneath, while from the rear roll the terrifying shouts of hot pursuers. Already the house-tops teem with slingers and archers; the lanes pour forth their warriors with swords and long pikes to pierce the flanks, and the canals are alive with canoes whose crews secure the struggling fugitives for sacrifice, or deal the more grateful coup de grace. The Spanish soldiers are among the last to come up, and a terrible gauntlet they have had to run. Regardless of the showering missiles or the pressing foe, Cortés stands on the brink to strike back the hungry crew and lend a helping hand to his floundering men. "I was determined to remain there and die fighting," he writes. But so many are beyond his reach, and there he must stand helpless to watch the struggle; to behold now this soldier felled, now the other carried off; and more, to see the banner torn from the hands of his alférez. Tlapanecatl is the name given by the records to the doughty captor of so esteemed a prize.
Standing there conspicuously on the brink, Cortés becomes the target for hundreds of missiles, though protected by his mail; but soon the foe begin to press round him, and even in his rear, separating him from the men.[1] The next moment more than one pair of arms had coiled round his body, and, with triumphant shouts of "Malinche! Malinche!" they seek to drag him into the water to the canoes. Alarmed by the outcry, his body-soldier, Cristóbal de Olea, hastens to his side, and with a sabre-blow severs the arm which was well nigh pulling over the bent form of his master. The next instant he himself falls beneath the furious onslaught roused by the magnitude of the prize, "a glorious death in so good a cause!" exclaims Herrera. Another soldier, named Lerma, rushes to the spot and is nearly overpowered; while a stout
- ↑ He crossed the channel with fifteen soldiers to sustain the fugitives, says Torquemada, i. 554; but this seems incorrect.
