ans was amazing. It has never been
surpassed. Though hardly able, with their feeble weapons, to injure
their adversaries, regardless of death, they filled up the gaps which
the cannon opened in their ranks, and all the day long continued the
unequal fight.

Immense multitudes of the dead now covered the field, and many of the
chiefs were slain. Every horse was wounded; seventy Spaniards were
severely injured; one was dead, and nearly all were more or less
bruised. But the artillery and the musketry were still plied with
awful carnage. The commander-in-chief of the native army, finding
it in vain to contend against these new and apparently unearthly
weapons, at last ordered a retreat. The natives retired in as highly
disciplined array as would have been displayed by French or Austrian
troops. The victors, exhausted and bleeding, were glad to throw
themselves upon the gory grass of the battle-field for repose. The
cold wind at night, from the mountain glaciers, swept the bleak plain,
and the soldiers shivered in their houseless beds. They did not sleep,
however, until, in a body, they had returned thanks to the God of
peace and love for their glorious victory. "It truly seemed," said
Cortez, devoutly, "that God fought on our side."

It appears almost incredible that, in such a conflict, the Spanish
army should have received so little injury. But Cortez made no account
of any amount of loss on the part of his native allies. The Spaniards
only he thought of, and they were protected with the utmost care.
Their artillery and musketry kept the natives at a distance, and
their helmets and coats of mail no native weapon could easily
penetrate. Their danger was consequently so small that we can not
give them credit for quite so much heroism as they have claimed. The
enterprise, in its commencement, was bold in the extreme; but it is
easy to be fearless when experience proves that there is but little
peril to be encountered. They fought one hundred thousand men for a
whole day, and lost _one man_!

As night enveloped in its folds the bloodstained hosts, the untiring
Cortez, having buried his dead, that his loss might not be perceived
by the enemy, sallied forth with the horse and a hundred foot, and
four hundred of the native allies, and with fire and sword devastated
six villages of a hundred houses each, taking four hundred prisoners,
including men and women. Before daybreak he returned from this wild
foray to the camp.

D