University of Virginia Library

4. CHAPTER IV.

The rapture with which Don Amador de Leste
exchanged the confined decks of the caravel for the
boundless sands of Ulua, and these again for the back
of his impatient steed, was fully as great as he had
promised himself. Profound was his joy to find the
demon of ennui, which had beset the cribbed and
confined charger as sorely as the cabined master,
flying from his dilated nostrils, and giving place to
the mettlesome ardour which had won him the title
of the Fiery. The neigh that he sent forth was like
the welcome of the battle; the fire that flashed in his
eye was bright as the red reflection of a banner; and
when he reared up under his rider, it was as if to
paw down the opposition of crouching spearmen. A
few snuffs of the morning breeze, a few bounds over
the sandy hillocks, and the beast that had pined in
stupefaction in a narrow stall on the sea, was converted
into an animal fit for the seat of a warrior.

The cavalier galloped about for a few moments,
while his attendants made their preparations for the
journey. Then returning, like a thoughtful leader,
to inquire into their welfare, he beheld them with
great satisfaction, both horse and man, in good condition
to commence their adventurous campaign.

The elder of his followers was a personage of years
and gravity; a mass of grizzled locks fell from under
his iron skull-cap, and a shaggy beard of the same
reverend hue ornamented his cheeks and throat. He
had seen long and sharp service, for besides the many
scars that marked his swarthy visage, one of which,

from its livid hue, seemed to have been won in recent
combat, a sabre-cut, extending over his left cheek
and brow, had darkened the sinister eye forever. But
his frame, though somewhat short and squat, was
robust and even gigantic in proportions; and the
muscles springing under the narrow cuishes, which,
together with a heavy breast-plate, made nearly the
whole of his defensive armour, did not seem less of
iron than their covering. He was truly a man-at-arms
worthy to follow at the heels of a valiant
cavalier.

The second attendant, though armed with little
more care than the former, had contrived, by the judicious
distribution of riband-knots and sashes about
his person, to assume a more gallant appearance:
and in addition, he had the smoother features and
gayer looks of youth. Both were provided with
horses strong and not inactive; and both, as Amador
returned, were busily engaged in disposing the
mails and accoutrements of the cavalier about the
bulky loins of their animals.

“Hearken, Lazaro, thou varlet, that flingest my
mailed shirt over thy crupper, as if it were a vile
horse-cloth,” he cried to the younger follower, “have
more care what thou art doing. Give my helmet to
Baltasar, and let him sling it, with my buckler, over
his broad shoulders. I will not entrust thee with such
matters; nor, by 'r lady, with my pistols neither.”

“If I may make bold to speak,” said Baltasar,
bending his eye bluffly, and with a sort of rude affection
on his young lord, “I can advise a way to
dispose of both casque and buckler more agreeably
and usefully than on the back of either Lazaro or
myself.”

“Thou meanest upon mine own, no doubt,” said
Amador: “I have ever found thee fonder of carrying
the arms of a dead foeman than of a living master,
though it were the knight Calavar himself.”

“That is very true,” said the veteran, chuckling
grimly at the compliment disguised in the sarcasm.

“I am never loath to do such duty: because, then,
my conscience tells me I am bearing arms which
can no longer be of use to their owner.”

“And thou desirest now to intimate, that, if I were
arrayed in my harness, I might put it to some use?”

“Quien sabe? who knows?” said Baltasar, looking
around him with an earnest eye. “We are now
in a strange land, possessed by barbarians, who are
good at spear and bow, and fonder of fighting from
an ambuscado than on an open field; and with no
true companions that I can see, to look that they be
not lurking among yonder woodlands, some of which,
I take it for granted, we have to pass. I should
grieve sorely to see an arrow, even in a boy's hand,
aimed at your honour's present hauberk of cloth and
velvet.”

“Well, thy wisdom will not perish for want of utterance,”
said Amador; “and, in very truth, I must
own, it has sometimes stood me in good stead. I will
therefore relieve thee of thy burthen, and Lazaro
shall hang it to my own shoulders.”

He descended, and the linked surcoat soon invested
his person.

“I will also presume to recommend your honour
to have these snapdragons hung to your saddle-bow,”
said Baltasar, extending the rude and ponderous pistols,—weapons
then scarcely creeping into notice,
but within twenty years, not uncommon in the hands
of horsemen; “for if it should come to pass, that
some cut-throat pagan should discharge a missile at
us from the bushes, it will doubtless afford your honour
much satisfaction to shoot him dead on the spot;
a punishment that would not be so certain with the
weapons in my own hands, or in Lazaro's. And before
I could bring my cross-bow from my back, it is
possible the knave might have another opportunity to
do us mischief.”

“In this matter also,” said Amador good-humouredly,
“I will follow thy instructions. But, I give thee
warning, there is something in the feeling of my hauberk

under this raging sun, that admonishes me how
soon my brain would seethe, as in a stew-pan, under
the cover of a steel helmet. Wherefore I will
have thee carry that in thine own hands, until, from
the change of atmosphere, or the appearance of an
enemy, I may see fit to alter my resolution.”

“I have ever found,” said Baltasar, with the pertinacity
of age, and, perhaps, of a favourite, “that, under
a broiling sun, a well-polished casque of metal is
something cooler than a cloth cap; a fact, the reason
for which I do not myself understand, and which I
should esteem too marvellous for belief, had I not
oft-times put it to the proof.”

“There is even much truth in what thou art saying,”
quoth the cavalier, “and I have perhaps philosophy
enough to explain the marvel to thee, but that
I know philosophy is not much to thy liking. There
must be a cold head, however, under the bright cap;
otherwise, and with a brain as inflammable as my
own, I am very well convinced that bright steel would
be just as ignitible as dull iron.” And so saying, he
again bestrode the champing Fogoso.

“It must be as your honour says,” muttered the
man-at-arms. “But, as we are all as well prepared
now to begin our journey as we will be to-morrow,
I would fain know of your favour whither lies our
path, or where lags the jackanapes that is to guide
us? I heard some talk in the caravel of a great troop
of horse and foot, that was to accompany us; but unless
it may have been the herd of vagabonds, who, a
full hour since, took up their march along the sands,
I know not where to look for them among these few
tinkers and sailors that are strolling yonder among
the huts of bamboo.”

“I have much reliance on the friendship and courtesy
of my cousin, the admiral,” said Amador hastily;
“but I must confess, that, saving the appearance of
yonder bridled horse, (which may be in waiting for
the officer he told me of,) it looks very much, now,
as if he had left me to mine own guidance. Nay, I

wrong the worthy señor,” he cried quickly, as turning
with some doubt and indignation towards the
ship, he beheld a boat leave her, and approach the
shore with all the speed of oars; “the guide he promised
me is, without doubt, in that barge; and the
bridled horse, which, as I can perceive even at this
distance, is none of the bravest, is the beast whereon
he will keep us company.”

As Amador conjectured, the boat contained his
promised companion, who instantly sprang upon the
beach and on the caparisoned animal, and in a few
moments was at the side of the cavalier. He was
young and handsome, an adult in stature, but scarcely
a man in deportment, for as he removed his cap to
make the obeisance of an inferior, there was a strong
tincture of confusion and trepidation in his countenance.
This was perhaps owing, in part, to a consciousness
of having merited a reprimand for overdelay,
and in part also to his suddenly finding himself
confronted with so warlike a personage as the
neophyte. Amador of the caravel was a different
person from Amador armed and mounted; and, indeed,
as he sat on his noble bay, mailed and sworded,
and with two goodly armsmen at his back, he was
such a martial figure as might have moved an older
messenger to reverence.

“Señor caballero,” said the youth, with a stammering
voice, “my master and patron, the admiral,
has appointed me, his secretary, to be your guide to
the Indian city Zempoala; and I have to beg your
pardon, if, waiting for the letters wherewith it was
his excellency's will to charge me, and to make some
needful preparation of my own, I have detained your
favour somewhat longer than was agreeable.”

“I am ever bound to thank his excellency,” said
Amador; “and as I well suppose, your own preparations
had some weighty relation to the business you
have in charge, I will not take it upon me to express
any dissatisfaction with your delay.”

“In truth,” said the secretary, ingenuously, “I was

loath to depart without such armour about me as
should beseem the attendant of a true cavalier; in
the fitting of which I fell into some perplexity, as not
finding a corselet that did not, in some manner, incommode
my ribs; and besides, the sabres were all
so unwieldy and rough about the hilts, I was in
some despair I should never find one to my liking.”

“Señor secretario,” said Amador, with a smile of
good-humoured contempt, surveying the youth, and
observing the cuirass chosen with no discretion and
donned without skill, “I am of opinion, that in the
company of myself and my attendants, you will find
no occasion for such troublesome apparel; and it is
my advice, grounded on your admission of inexperience
in such matters, that, should we, on our march,
be beset by any enemies, you take post instantly behind
my veteran Baltasar, whose broad breast will
stand you in greater stead than your ill-chosen cuirass,
and whose arm will do you better service than
the sabre in your own hands.”

“Señor,” said the youth, colouring, “I am no
soldier nor cavalier; I have ever had my breast
more bruised by the scribe's table than the weight
of a breast-plate, and my fingers have heretofore
known more of the goose-quill than the sword. Nevertheless
I am both willing and desirous to be placed
where the knowledge of weapons may be obtained,
and to encounter such risks as are the helpers to
knowledge. It was from no lack of beseeching on
mine own part, that his excellency has heretofore
denied me permission to try my fate among the cavaliers
ashore; nor should I have hoped that pleasure
so early, but that I found his excellency was bent to
do you honour, by making a confidential servant
your attendant, and was therefore easily persuaded
to give me the opportunity I have so long coveted, of
looking a little into the strange sights of this marvellous
land.”

“I am to understand then,” said Amador gravely,
“that his excellency, the admiral, has entrusted the

charge of guiding me to Zempoala to an individual
who has never before put foot on the wilderness that
divides us from it?”

“It is true, señor,” said the secretary, “that I
have never been to Zempoala. But I hope your favour
will not doubt me for that reason, nor take offence
at the admiral. I am enjoined to conduct you
to the reinforcement that set out an hour ago. Its
tracks are plain enough along the beach; and as it
is composed principally of footmen, there is no doubt
we will overtake it before another hour has elapsed.
I am confident I can lead your favour without difficulty
to the party; among which are guides well acquainted
with the country.”

“Let us set out then, in heaven's name,” said the
cavalier: “the day is wasting apace; the sun climbs
high in the vault; and the sooner we are sheltered
from its fury among some of yonder distant forests,
the better will it be for us. St. John be our guide,
and the Holy Virgin favour us.—Amen! Let us
depart.”