When thus far
advanced, the Aztecs, with the rapidity of lightning, turned on him,
and he beheld a large reinforcement in their rear, all fresh on the
field, prepared to support their countrymen. At the same time,
swarms of boats, unobserved in the eagerness of the chase, seemed to
start up as if by magic, covering the waters around. The Spaniards
were now exposed to a perfect hailstorm of missiles, both from the
causeway and the lake; but they stood unmoved amidst the tempest, when
Cortes, too late perceiving his error, gave orders for the retreat.
Slowly, and with admirable coolness, his men receded, step by step,
offering a resolute front to the enemy. The Mexicans came on with
their usual vociferation, making the shores echo to their war-cries,
and striking at the Spaniards with their long pikes, and with poles,
to which the swords taken from the Christians had been fastened. A
cavalier, named Volante, bearing the standard of Cortes, was felled by
one of their weapons, and, tumbling into the lake, was picked up by
the Mexican boats. He was a man of a muscular frame, and, as the enemy
were dragging him off, he succeeded in extricating himself from
their grasp, and clenching his colours in his hand, with a desperate
effort sprang back upon the causeway. At length, after some hard
fighting, in which many of the Spaniards were wounded, and many of
their allies slain, the troops regained the land, where Cortes, with a
full heart, returned thanks to Heaven for what he might well regard as
a providential deliverance.
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