with fair-skinned men to possess the land in the fulness
of time. Surely, then, the time had come and their god had come again.
Here were the fair-skinned men in shining armour marching back to their
own again, and Cortes at their head--was he not the god himself? The
cross, too, was a Mexican symbol, so Cortes was allowed to put it up
in the heathen temples without opposition.

The inhabitants of Tlascala--fierce republicans who refused to own
the sway of Montezuma--alone offered resistance, and how Cortes fought
and defeated them with his handful of men is truly a marvel.

It was three months before they reached the goal of all their
hopes--even the golden city of Mexico. The hardships and horrors of
the march had been unsurpassed, but as the beautiful valley of Mexico
unfolded itself before them in the early light of a July morning, the
Spaniards shouted with joy: "It is the promised land! Mexico!
Mexico!"

"Many of us were disposed to doubt the reality of the scene before
us and to suspect we were in a dream," says one of the party. "I thought
we had been transported by magic to the terrestrial paradise."

Water, cultivated plains, shining cities with shadowy hills beyond
lay like some gorgeous fairyland before and below them. At every step
some new beauty appeared in sight, and the wonderful City of the Waters
with its towers and shining palaces arose out of the surrounding mists.

The city was approached by three solid causeways some five miles long.
It was crowded with spectators "eager to behold such men and animals
as had never been seen in that part of the world."

At any moment the little army of four hundred and fifty Spaniards might
have been destroyed, surrounded as they were by overwhelming numbers
of hostile Indian foes. It was a great day in the history of European
discovery, when the Spaniard first set foot in the capital of the
Western world. Everywhere was evidence of a crowded and thriving
population and a high civilisation. At the walls of the city they were
met by Montezuma himself. Amid a crowd of Indian nobles, preceded by
officers of state bearing golden wands, was the royal palanquin
blazing with burnished gold. It was borne on the shoulders of the nobles,
who, barefooted, walked slowly with eyes cast to the ground.
Descending from his litter, Montezuma then advanced under a canopy
of gaudy featherwork powdered with jewels and fringed with silver.
His cloak and sandals were studded with