hought, "I am married. I have
three sons, and am a cacique and captain in the wars. My face is
tattooed and my ears bored. What would the Spaniards think of me
should I now go among them?" All Aguilar's entreaties for him to leave
were unavailing.

Aguilar appears to have been truly a good man. As he had acquired a
perfect acquaintance with the language of the natives, and with their
manners and customs, Cortez received him as a heaven-sent acquisition
to his enterprise.

On the 4th of March the squadron again set sail, and, crossing the
narrow strait, approached the shores of the continent. Sailing
directly north some hundred miles, hugging the coast of Yucatan,
Cortez doubled Cape Catoche, and turning his prow to the west, boldly
pressed forward into those unknown waters which seemed to extend
interminably before him. The shores were densely covered with the
luxuriant foliage of the tropics, and in many a bay and on many a
headland could be discerned the thronged dwellings of the natives.

After sailing west about two hundred miles, they found the coast again
turning abruptly to the south. Following the line of the land some
three hundred miles farther, they came to the broad mouth of the River
Tabasco, which Grijalva had entered, and which Cortez was seeking. A
sand-bar at the mouth of the river prevented the heavily-loaded
vessels from passing. Cortez, therefore, cast anchor, and taking a
strong and well-armed party in the boats, ascended the shallow stream.

A forest of majestic trees, with underwood dense and impervious, lined
the banks. The naked forms of the natives were seen gliding among the
foliage, following, in rapidly-accumulating numbers, the advance of
the boats, and evincing, by tone and gesture, any thing but a friendly
spirit. At last, arriving at an opening in the forest, where a smooth
and grassy meadow extended with gradual ascent from the stream, the
boats drew near the shore, and Cortez, through his interpreter
Aguilar, asked permission to land, avowing his friendly intentions.
The prompt answer was the clash of weapons and shouts of defiance.

Upon this Cortez decided to postpone a forcible landing until the
morning, and retired to a small island in the river which was
uninhabited. He here encamped for the night, establishing a vigilant
line of sentinels to guard against surprise.

In the early dawn of the next morning the party were assembled for
prayers and for the celebration of mass.