engineer hoist with his own petard, for the great stone
fired rose, it is true, but went straight up and descended again upon
the machine, which was ever afterwards the laughing-stock of the army.

Further severe losses were now inflicted upon the beleaguered
inhabitants, as more ammunition had been obtained. Peace had again been
offered by the Spaniards, and again refused by the Aztecs. An Aztec
chief of high rank had been captured, and then returned to Guatemoc as
a peace envoy. The Mexicans' reply was to execute and sacrifice the
unfortunate emissary, and then collecting their forces they poured out
upon the causeways like a furious tide, which seemed as if it would
sweep all before it. But the Spaniards were prepared. The narrow
causeways were commanded by the artillery, which poured such a deadly
hail upon the enemy's numbers that they returned fleeing to the city.

And soon the end approaches. The division led by Cortes made a fierce
assault; and whilst the battle raged the Spaniards observed that the
summit of one of the _teocallis_ was in flames. It was the work of
Alvarado's men, who had penetrated already to the plaza. Forces were
joined, and the inhabitants of the city, driven into one quarter
thereof, still made their stubborn and--now--suicidal stand. For the
streets were piled up with corpses, the Aztecs refraining from throwing
the bodies of their slain into the lake, or outside the city, in order
not to show their weakness. Pestilence and famine had made terrible
inroads upon the population. Miserable wretches, men, women, and
children, were encountered wandering about careless of the enemy, only
bent upon finding some roots, bark, or offal which might appease the
hunger at their vitals. The salt waters of the lake, which they had
been obliged to drink, for the Spaniards had cut the aqueduct which
brought the fresh water from Chapultepec, had caused many to sicken and
die. Mothers had devoured their dead children; the bodies of the slain
had been eaten, and the bark gnawed from the trunks of trees. In their
dire extremity some of the chiefs of the beleaguered city called Cortes
to the barricade. He went, trusting that capitulation was at hand, for,
as both he and his historians record, the slaughter was far from their
choosing. "Do but finish your work quickly," was the burden of their
parley. "Let us go and rest in the heaven of our war-god; we are weary
of life and suffering. How is it that you, a son