And it came about also, that the new viceroy sent from Spain was stirred
to anger at the murder of the friar by the rebellious and heathen people
of the Otomie, and set himself to take vengeance on the tribe that
wrought the deed.
Soon tidings reached me that a great force of Tlascalan and other
Indians were being collected to put an end to us, root and branch, and
that with them marched more than a hundred Spaniards, the expedition
being under the command of none other than the Captain Bernal Diaz, that
same soldier whom I had spared in the slaughter of the noche triste, and
whose sword to this day hung at my side.
Now we must needs prepare our defence, for our only hope lay in
boldness. Once before the Spaniards had attacked us with thousands of
their allies, and of their number but few had lived to look again on the
camp of Cortes. What had been done could be done a second time--so said
Otomie in the pride of her unconquerable heart. But alas! in fourteen
years things had changed much with us. Fourteen years ago we held sway
over a great district of mountains, whose rude clans would send up their
warriors in hundreds at our call. Now these clans had broken from our
yoke, which was acknowledged by the people of the City of Pines alone
and those of some adjacent villages. When the Spaniards came down on me
the first time, I was able to muster an army of ten thousand soldiers to
oppose them, now with much toil I could collect no more than between two
and three thousand men, and of these some slipped away as the hour of
danger drew nigh.
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