"There is truth in what you say, weaver," returned the soldier. "Small value is put upon a man's life by them, especially if he is in their way."

Without further delay he proceeded, with his companion, to search the few apartments of the cottage, giving them a thorough examination.

Kan never worked more diligently than he did while the soldiers were looking through his place. The fibers of the maguey fairly flew through his hands, and higher and wider grew the pile of thready stuff at his left. Although his movements were rapid, he showed no evidence of disquiet. His countenance wore its customary stern look, and yet, beneath, there was poignant solicitude for his royal charge. It appears to have been a characteristic of his people to forget self in their devotion to others. He took no account of his own personal risk: the penalty he incurred in harboring the fugitive--a penalty the measure of which would depend on the caprice of a suspicious and tyrannizing king.

After a protracted search into all the nooks and secret places about the weaver's premises, the men returned to the room in which he was working. This room was quite plain, without recess or other receptacle where a man might have found concealment. The spokesman looked critically over it, and said:

"The fugitive is surely not hiding with you, friend; for we find nothing of a suspicious character about your house. Sorry we were obliged to trouble you, but orders must be obeyed."

"Right, soldier!" returned Kan. "You have performed your duty, and no harm has been done."

The weaver spoke with affected carelessness, which he did not feel, for every moment which the soldiers spent in the room was one of anxiety to him.

Casting his eyes over the apartment once more, the soldier said:

"Since everything with you appears straight and satisfactory, we'll relieve you of our presence. Good luck to you, weaver."

"The same to the soldiers of the king," replied Kan, with a supreme effort at indifference, as the searchers turned to leave his place.

The party was hardly beyond the curtained doorway when the weaver's a.s.sumed carelessness gave place to cautiousness.

"Hist! do not stir!" he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed guardedly. Rising, he went to a small window, a safe point from which to watch the soldiers' movements.

When he was satisfied they would not return, and that all present danger was past, he went to the pile of selected fibers, which had grown so rapidly under his supreme efforts while the soldiers were searching his place, and, lifting them, said:

"You may rise now from your uncomfortable position. The soldiers seem to be satisfied with their search of my premises, and are gone."

The prince rose from the floor, on which he had been lying beneath the pile of fibers, and, glancing at his greatly disordered apparel, said, in a soliloquizing manner:

"Hualcoyotl is indeed fallen. I never expected to reach a state so far beneath my manhood as this; but, since it is for country and freedom, submission must be the rule, however humiliating the conditions."

Fixing his eyes on the weaver, he continued: "Your reply to the soldier, Kan, in which you referred to royal aristocrats and the indifference usually shown by them for the lives of their subjects, has taught me a valuable lesson--one that I will not soon forget. It is too true that rulers are often disposed to hold the lives of their subjects lightly. Should it be my good fortune to regain my heritage, Kan and his words, so aptly spoken, shall not be forgotten."

"I pray, O Prince, that you will believe me. The words were not spoken out of disrespect, but to mislead the soldier that his search might not be too close." Spoken humbly and out of fear that he had given offense.

"Kan is only one of many," he continued, "who would delight in serving and honoring Hualcoyotl as their king."

"It does not matter, Kan, what prompted the use of the words," replied the prince, kindly; "they were well said and timely, and you need have no regrets for having uttered them. At this moment I may be indebted to them for my liberty, if not my life. But let them pa.s.s; I would not they were unsaid. My escape from detection was narrow, indeed," he went on; "and due, my faithful friend, to your sagacity alone. I can no longer consent to your life and home being put in jeopardy on my account. There is no place in Tezcuco that will furnish me a safe retreat--my flight must be resumed. I will go into the mountains, in the direction of Tlascala, where refuge may be found in their fastnesses until my people are ready to avenge themselves on the authors of their degradation. If you will find a way, Kan, to inform Oza that I would see him, you will confer a favor which may be the last you will have an opportunity to bestow upon your unfortunate guest."

The prince's closing words expressed deep dejection, and Kan hastened to answer by way of encouragement:

"May the son of my murdered master be mistaken in that, is the prayer of Kan. May he live to deliver his people from the power of the hated Maxtla, and be crowned king in the place of his n.o.ble father!"

"You have my thanks, Kan, for your kind and prayerful words; and, now, let Oza be summoned and preparations made for my departure to-night."

Oza came, and on being informed of the prince's purpose, became greatly worried over it. That he should go off to the mountains alone was not to be thought of for a moment. He was willing and ready to share his master's hardships, and insisted on being permitted to do so with so much earnestness and show of fealty that Hualcoyotl finally consented that he should, for a few days at least.

The preparations for their departure were speedily consummated, including a visit by Oza to the palace; and night, which was to shield them in their flight, was waited for in patient silence.

When the hour came for leaving, the prince bade his preserver a kind good-bye, with promises of future remembrance, and, with Oza for a companion, went out into the darkness--a fugitive from an unjust condemnation.

CHAPTER VI.

Off from Lake Tezcuco, in the direction of Tlascala, the country is rough and mountainous, and, at the time in which our story is laid, was a wild and woody district. We are not informed as to what nation or nations then possessed this territory; but, from the fact that it was a common hunting-ground, and frequently invaded by bands of soldiers, irrespective of tribal connections, it may be inferred that it was regarded neutral. Since this phase of the question is best suited to our purpose, we accept it as the true one.

Notwithstanding the wildness of the country, it had its denizens, though few in number and spa.r.s.ely located. There were narrow, level stretches of ground-plateaus, found here and there on the range, sometimes extending for miles around the base of a mountain, or along the cliffs and crags which abounded. These plateaus, in most cases, were places of habitation; the men occupying them being of a cla.s.s who preferred the life of a free mountaineer to living in the thickly settled districts. The territory was extensive, and game, consisting of wild fowl and small animals, was abundant. Herein was the charm which made a life there one of preference to those who found a home upon it.

The occupation of the inhabitants was, therefore, chiefly that of hunting; and it may be added, in this connection, that many of the markets of the valley towns and cities were indebted to them for their supply of wild meats.

Some of the more thrifty and acc.u.mulative residents cultivated the plateaus on which they had fixed their habitations. When such was the case the mountaineer divided his time between farming and hunting; and, in some instances, a surprising degree of prosperity and comfort was the result. The better cla.s.s prided themselves on their hospitality, and often carried it to a fault, to the truth of which hunters from the valley, and others who made excursions into the district, were ever ready to bear witness.

The most prominent person living in this mountainous region, and one who will hold a conspicuous place in our narrative, was a man named Tezcot, who did farming, besides being a most successful hunter. He was a person of intelligence, and showed in his intercourse with men that he had been well trained in his youth. He was never heard to refer to his early life, and all that could be learned of it was, that, for causes best known to himself, he had cut loose from his people, and, with his young wife, sought and found a home among the free hunters of the mountains.

As the years pa.s.sed, this man grew in the estimation of his fellow mountaineers, until his position among them became one of preeminence.

His goodness of heart, integrity of purpose, and excellent judgment made him a wise counselor. He was, consequently, consulted on all questions of importance. His advice was invariably good, and his decisions on questions referred to him for adjustment were always acquiesced in. As a result, peace and harmony prevailed where confusion and discord might otherwise have been expected. He was nominally the hunters' chief, ruling them by the power of his wisdom, integrity, and kindness.

Tezcot's dwelling was, comparatively, of a superior character. It was constructed of stone, and thatched with maguey leaves, and contained several apartments designed for supplying the needs of a family.

Commodious porches protected its front and rear from the heat of a tropical sun, and furnished a pleasant retreat in leisure hours for the inmates. It was, altogether, a very convenient mountain home.

In addition to the dwelling there were quarters for servants, whom the mountaineer kept to perform the necessary labor about the place.[6]

[6] NOTE.--Voluntary servitude obtained among the Anahuacans, and of this cla.s.s were those who served with Tezcot, the hunter.

The farm work was conducted mostly by an experienced and trusted va.s.sal, while much of the master's time was spent on the mountains in pursuit of game.

Tezcot's household consisted of himself, his wife, and two daughters.

The eldest daughter, who was about eighteen years of age, was a fine specimen of the Indian maiden, the pride of her immediate friends, and an object of admiration to all who knew her. She was known among the denizens of the range as the "Mountain Princess," to which appellation she was certainly ent.i.tled, if personal graces and womanly charms, together with the prominence of her father, counted in the elemental forces which fixed upon her a t.i.tle so expressive of the high esteem in which she was held. Mitla was the name bestowed upon this nymph of the hills by her parents, and by which she will hereafter be known.

The second daughter of the hunter was not so queenly as her sister, and, being the younger, was looked upon as little more than a child.

Her fifteen years were not sufficient to gain for her the consideration accorded the "Mountain Princess." Oxletta, or Oxie, as she was called, was an agreeable and comely appearing girl, and gave promise of developing into a splendid woman.

The mother was not an old woman, and still possessed much of the attractiveness and vivacity which had undoubtedly distinguished her in the bloom of womanhood. From her the daughters inherited much of the comeliness which marked them as objects of admiration and esteem. Her name was Xochitl, signifying wild flower, which evidenced, in its application, no small degree of loveliness even in the first years of her life. She was called "Zoei" by her acquaintances, and it fitted her well, so expressive of affection and gentleness, prominent characteristics of her disposition.

The daughters were given all the advantages possible under the isolated circ.u.mstances with which they were surrounded. The father and mother were fairly well educated, and through their efforts the girls became proficient in many things. Aside from being instructed in the history and traditions of their race, they were well trained in domestic affairs.

It is said of the Aztec women that they were adepts in the culinary arts. Their tables, when the occasion required it, we are informed, were replete with deliciously prepared sauces, confections, and other delicacies, which would have tempted the most fastidious epicurian palate; and Zoei, the good wife of the hunter Tezcot, was not an exception.

Spinning, embroidery, and featherwork were also considered essential accomplishments, in which the sisters were thoroughly instructed by their mother.

Featherwork was an art of peculiar interest to the Anahuacans, and they greatly excelled in it. Abundant material for its practice was always at hand in the beautiful plumage of the myriads of tropical birds: the parrot, the hummingbird, the pheasant, and many others of the feathered tribes which might be named, congruous to that lat.i.tude and country.

In addition to her other attainments, Mitla was a fine archer, and was often to be found on the mountains in pursuit of its practice.

It was evening, and the twilight was rapidly verging into night. At this hour three persons might have been seen wending their way around the southwestern slope of the mountain at the base of which stood the dwelling of Tezcot, the hunter. The fast fading light of the departing day penetrated with its crimson-tinted rays the thickly standing trees, throwing sombre shadows athwart the pathway of the sojourners, warning them of the nearness of night. It was evident, from the rapid movement of the party, that they were not unfamiliar with the rough trail they trod. They were moving along in single file. In the lead was a man of large mold, who, though apparently past middle life, was yet in the prime of manhood. Upon his back was strapped a javelin and bow, with an accompanying quiver, which, with his general appearance and dress, distinguished him as a hunter. His companions were following closely behind him, bearing a heavy burden between them, the end of the pole or support of the burden resting on a shoulder of each. They were silent as the noiseless forest through which they moved. Not a sound was heard save the measured tramp of their feet as they hastened on. Finally emerging onto the plateau, and seemingly relieved from the sense of solitude with which the deep silence of the forest had impressed them, the hunter said:

"It is a heavy load ye bear, lads; but the end is near, and ye'll soon be rid of it."

"Yes, master," said the foremost man; "it is, indeed, a heavy load, and would try us greatly to go much farther."