University of Virginia Library

14. CHAPTER XIV.

To the surprise, and much also to the dissatisfaction,
of Don Amador, the noon-day sun still found
him struggling, with his companions, among the rocks
and forests. It seemed to him, from a review of his
journey, that he had been doubling and turning, for
the whole morning, like a boy at blindman's-buff,
within a circle of a few leagues; and though he

could not, upon the closest inspection, detect a single
tree or brook which he remembered to have passed
before, he shrewdly suspected it was Botello's intention
to make him well acquainted with the forest, before
dismissing him from its depths. It was however
vain to wonder, and equally fruitless to complain.
For the whole morning, at different intervals, he was
assured, sometimes from hearing their shouts in the
thicket, sometimes from beholding them from a hill-top
crossing an opposing eminence, that his pursuers
were close at his heels: of which fact, and the
necessity it presented to move with becoming caution,
the enchanter took advantage in the construction
of his answers to every remonstrance. At length,
perhaps two hours after noon, the travellers approached
a hill, whence, as Botello assured them,
they might look down upon the River of Canoes.
This was the more agreeable intelligence, since the
day was intolerably hot, and they almost longed for
the bursting of a tempest which had been brooding
in the welkin for the last half hour, the drenching of
which, as they thought, would be far more sufferable
than the combustion of sunshine. They reached the
hill, and from its bushy and stony side, looked down
upon the valley, where the river, or, more properly
speaking, the rivulet, went foaming and fretting over
its rugged channel. On the hither side of the stream,
the vale was bare and sandy, and on the other, though
doubtless partaking of the same character, the trees
which bordered upon the water, making divers agreeable
groves, entirely shut out the view, so that Don
Amador saw not, as he had fondly anticipated, the
encampment of the invader of Mexico, and the resting-place
of his kinsman. But if he beheld not what
he so much desired to see, he surveyed another spectacle,
which caused him no little wonder. At a short
distance, and almost at the bottom of the hill, he was
struck with the unexpected apparition of the army
of Narvaez, drawn out in order of battle, as if a waiting
the approach of a foe, and commanding the passage
of the river. He rubbed his eyes with astonishment;
but there was no delusion in the view.

“Señor,” said Botello, in a low voice, as if reading
his thoughts, “you marvel to see this army, which
we left sleeping at the temple, arrived at the river
before us; but you forget Zempoala lies only a league
from the river.”

“Let us descend, and cross to the other side,”
said Amador, impatiently. “I see the very spot
where sits the knave Narvaez on his horse; and
if the valiant Cortes have it in intention, as I do not
doubt, to give him battle, I should sharply regret to
watch the conflict from this hill-side.”

“I told Narvaez, himself,” said the magician, with
a sort of triumph, “he should not join battle with
Cortes to-day; and he shall not!—When the time
comes, Don Amador may join in the combat, if he
will.—Be content, señor: we cannot stir from this
hill without being observed, and captured or slain.
The thunder roars, the bolt glitters in the heaven;
the storm that levels the tall ceibas, will open us a
path presently, even through that angry army.”

Almost while Botello spoke, and before the cavalier
could add words to the disinclination with which
he regarded so untimely a delay, there burst such a
thunderbolt over his head, as made Fogoso, in common
with every other horse in the party, cower to
the earth, as if stricken by its violence. This was
immediately followed by a succession of separate
explosions and of multisonous volleys, less resembling
the furious roar of the ordnance of a great army
than of the artillery of volcanoes; and it became
immediately necessary for each man to dismount,
and allay, as he could, the frantic terrors of his
charger. In the midst of this sublime prelude, the
rushing of a mighty wind was added to the orchestre
of the elements; and, in an instant, the face of day,
the black vapours above and the varied valley below,
were hidden in a cloud of dust, sand, and leaves,
stripped in a moment from the plains and the forest;

and in an instant also, the army of Narvaez was
snatched from the eyes of the cavalier. Presently,
also, came another sound, heard even above the peal
of the thunder and the rush of the wind; the roar
of a great rain, booming along like a moving cataract,
was mingled with the harsh music of nature;
and Don Amador looked anxiously round for some
place of shelter. Happily, though no cavern welcomed
them into its gloomy security, there was a spot
hard by, where certain tall and massive rocks lay so
jammed and wedged together, as to present most of
the characteristics of a chamber, except that there
was wanting the fourth side, as well as the roof, unless
indeed the outstretched branches of the great
trees that grew among these fragments, might have
been considered a suitable canopy. A spring bubbled
up from among these mossy ruins, giving nourishment
to a thick growth of brambles and weeds,
which added their own tangled covert to the stouter
shelter of the rocks and trunks. Into this nook the
party, guided by Botello, to whom it seemed not unfamiliar,
penetrated forthwith; and here they found
themselves, in a great measure, sheltered from the
rain. Here also, taking advantage of a period of
inactivity, and at the instigation of Don Amador,
who perceived with solicitude the visage of the secretary
covered not only with languor, but flushed
with fatigue and fever, the enchanter set about relieving
the distresses of the youth. He removed the
bandage and garment, examined the wound, bathed
the inflamed member in the cool waters of the fountain;
and having thus commenced proceedings with
so reasonable a preliminary, he drew a little silver
vessel from his wallet, containing the unguent `blessed,'
as he had before said, `of the fat of a pagan's
heart,' and which, as may be repeated to those who
might doubt the efficacy of so remarkable a compound,
was not only much used, but highly commended
by the Christian soldiers of that day in America.
The magician commanded Fabueno to repeat
a pater-noster as slowly and devoutly as possible, (for
none of Botello's conjurations were conducted without
the appearance of deep devotion;) and mumbling
himself another, or perhaps repeating some superstitious
invocation, he applied the ointment, previously
spread over green leaves, to the wound; and when
it was again bound up, the secretary declared its anguish
was much mitigated, as well as his whole body
greatly refreshed.

Don Amador regarded the youth for a moment
with much grave kindness; and then said,—

“I owe this man so much gratitude for the good
he seems to have, and doubtless has, done thee, whom
I now, Fabueno,—at least until I can receive instructions
from my kinsman, the admiral,—must esteem
as being my ward and follower, that I am unwilling
to offend him by seeming to throw any discredit on
his remedy. Nevertheless I am not less bound to
instruct thee with counsel, than to repay him with
thanks; for which reason I must charge thee to remember,
that, when any miracle of a very unusual
or unnecessary character is wrought upon thyself,
much more of it may possibly be the product of thine
own imagination, than of that agent which seems to
thee to be the only cause.”

“Faith will work miracles, but fancy will not!”
said Botello, gravely.

“If I were a better philosopher, good Botello,”
said Don Amador, “I would attempt to show thee
how that which thou callest faith, is, in such a case
as this, nothing but imagination in very fervent action,
differing as much from that calm assurance
which constitutes true faith, as doth a potter's pitcher
gilded to resemble true gold, from a golden pitcher;
which difference, in the latter case, may be instantly
detected, by ringing them. And here I may tell thee,
Botello, by way of continuing the figure, that, as the
earthen vessel will really tinkle more pleasantly than
the vessel of gold, so also will the excited imagination
give forth a sound so much more captivating

than the tranquil utterance of belief, that, in attempting
to distinguish between them, men are often seduced
into error. Nevertheless, I will not quarrel
with thee on this subject, for I perceive thou art religious;
and what thy religion does not blame in thee,
I have no right to censure.”

This was a degree of liberality doubtless produced
rather by the amiable feeling of gratitude than any
natural tolerance of disposition or education; for the
neophyte was in all respects a representative of the
nobler spirits of his age, in whom the good qualities
inherited from nature were dashed, and sometimes
marred, by the tenets of a bad philosophy.