University of Virginia Library

3. CHAPTER III.
LOVE ON THE LAKE.

“WHAT can they mean? Here have they been loitering
since morning, as if the lake, like the tianguez,
were a place for idlers. As I love the gods, if I knew
them, they should be punished!”

So the farmer of the chinampa heretofore described as the
property of the princess Tula gave expression to his wrath;
after which he returned to his employment; that is, he
went crawling among the shrubs and flowers, pruning-knife
in hand, here clipping a limb, there loosening the loam.
Emerging from the thicket after a protracted stay, his ire was
again aroused.

“Still there! Thieves maybe, watching a chance to steal.
But we shall see. My work is done, and I will not take eyes
off of them again.”

The good man's alarm was occasioned by the occupants of
a canoe, which, since sunrise, had been plying about the
garden, never stationary, seldom more than three hundred
yards away, yet always keeping on the side next the city.
Once in a while the slaves withdrew their paddles, leaving
the vessel to the breeze; at such times it drifted so near that
he could see the voyageurs reclining in the shade of the blue
canopy, wrapped in escaupils such as none but lords or distinguished
merchants were permitted to wear.

The leisurely voyageurs, on their part, appeared to have a
perfect understanding of the light in which they were viewed
from the chinampa.

“There he is again! See!” said one of them.

The other lifted the curtain, and looked, and laughed.

“Ah! if we could send an arrow there, just near enough to
whistle through the orange-trees. Tula would never hear
the end of the story. He would tell her how two thieves
came to plunder him; how they shot at him; how narrowly
he escaped —”

“And how valiantly he defended the garden. By Our
Mother, Io', I have a mind to try him!”

Hualpa half rose to measure the distance, but fell back at
once. “No. Better that we get into no difficulty. We
are messengers, and have these flowers to deliver. Besides,
the judge is not to my liking.”

“Tula is merciful, and would forgive you for the 'tzin's
sake.”

“I meant the judge of the court,” Hualpa said, soberly.
“You never saw him lift the golden arrow, as if to draw it
across your portrait. It is pleasanter sitting here, in the
shade, rocked by the water.”

“And pleasanter yet to be made noble and master of a
palace over by Chapultepec,” Io' answered. “But see!
Yonder is a canoe.”

“From the city?”

“It is too far off; wait awhile.”

But Hualpa, impatient, leaned over the side, and looked
for himself. At the time they were up in the northern part
of the lake, at least a league from the capital. Long, regular
swells, something like those of the sea when settling into
calm, tumbled the surface; far to the south, however, he discerned
the canoe, looking no larger than a blue-winged gull.

“It is coming; I see the prow this way. Is the vase
ready?”

“The vase! You forget; there are two of them.”

Hualpa looked down confused.

“Does the 'tzin intend them both for Tula?”

Hualpa was the more embarrassed.

“Flowers have a meaning; sometimes they tell tales.
Let me see if I cannot read what the 'tzin would say to
Tula.”

And Io' went forward and brought the vases, and, placing
them before him, began to study each flower.

“Io',” said Hualpa, in a low voice, “but one of the vases
is the 'tzin's.”

“And the other?” asked the prince, looking up.

Hualpa's face flushed deeper.

“The other is mine. Have you not two sisters?”

Io's eyes dilated; a moment he was serious, then he
burst out laughing.

“I have you now! Nenetzin, — she, too, has a lover.”

The hunter never found himself so at loss; he played with
the loops of his escaupil, and refused to take his eyes off the
coming canoe. Through his veins the blood ran merrily; in
his brain it intoxicated, like wine.

“I have heard how love makes women of warriors; now
I will see, — I will see how brave you are.”

“Ho, slaves! Put the canoe about; yonder are those
whom I would meet,” Hualpa shouted.

The vessel was headed to the south. A long distance had
to be passed, and in the time the ambassador recovered himself.
Lying down again, and twanging the chord of his bow,
he endeavored to compose a speech to accompany the delivery
of the vase to Tula. But his thoughts would return to
his own love; the laugh with which Io' received his explanation
flattered him; and, true to the logic of the passion,
he already saw the vase accepted, and himself the favored
of Nenetzin. From that point the world of dreams was
but a step distant; he took the step, but was brought back
by Io.'

“They recognize us; Nenetzin waves her scarf!”

The approaching vessel was elegant as the art of the Aztecan
shipmaster could make it. The prow was sculptured into
the head and slender, curved neck of a swan. The passengers,
fair as ever journeyed on sea wave, sat under a canopy
of royal green, above which floated a panache of long, trailing
feathers, colored like the canopy. Like a creature of the
water, so lightly, so gracefully, the boat drew nigh the messengers.
When alongside, Io' sprang aboard, and, with boyish
ardor, embraced his sisters.

“What has kept you so?”

“We stayed to see twenty thousand warriors cross the
causeway,” replied Nenetzin.

“Where can they be going?”

“To Cholula.”

The news excited the boy; turning to speak to Hualpa, he
was reminded of his duty.

“Here is a messenger from Guatamozin, — the lord Hualpa,
who slew the tiger in the garden.”

The heart of the young warrior beat violently; he touched
the floor of the canoe with his palm.

And Tula spoke. “We have heard the minstrels sing the
story. Arise, lord Hualpa.”

“The words of the noble Tula are pleasanter than any
song. Will she hear the message I bring?”

She looked at Io' and Nenetzin, and assented.

“Guatamozin salutes the noble Tula. He hopes the
blessings of the gods are about her. He bade me say, that
four mornings ago the king visited him at his palace, but talked
of nothing but the strangers; so that the contract with
Iztlil', the Tezcucan, still holds good. Further, the king asked
his counsel as to what should be done with the strangers. He
advised war, whereupon the king became angry, and departed,
saying that a courier would come for the 'tzin when
his presence was wanted in the city; so the banishment
also holds good. And so, finally, there is no more hope from
interviews with the king. All that remains is to leave the
cause to time and the gods.”

A moment her calm face was troubled; but she recovered,
and said, with simple dignity, —

“I thank you. Is the 'tzin well and patient?”

“He is a warrior, noble Tula, and foemen are marching
through the provinces, like welcome guests; he thinks of
them, and curses the peace as a season fruitful of dishonor.”

Nenetzin, who had been quietly listening, was aroused.

“Has he heard the news? Does he not know a battle is
to be fought in Cholula?”

“Such tidings will be medicine to his spirit.”

“A battle!” cried Io'. “Tell me about it, Nenetzin.”

“I, too, will listen,” said Hualpa; “for the gods have
given me a love of words spoken with a voice sweeter than
the flutes of Tezca'.”

The girl laughed aloud, and was well pleased, although
she answered, —

“My father gave me a bracelet this morning, but he did
not carry his love so far as to tell me his purposes; and I
am not yet a warrior to talk to warriors about battles. The
lord Maxtla, even Tula here, can better tell you of such
things.”

“Of what?” asked Tula.

“Io' and his friend wish to know all about the war.”

The elder princess mused a moment, and then said gravely,
“You may tell the 'tzin, as from me, lord Hualpa, that
twenty thousand warriors this morning marched for Cholula;
that the citizens there have been armed; and to-morrow,
the gods willing, Malinche will be attacked. The king at
one time thought of conducting the expedition himself; but,
by persuasion of the paba, Mualox, he has given the command
to the lord Cuitlahua.”

Io' clapped his hands. “The gods are kind; let us rejoice,
O Hualpa! What marching of armies there will be!
What battles! Hasten, and let us to Cholula; we can be
there before the night sets in.”

“What!” said Nenetzin. “Would you fight, Io'? No,
no; come home with us, and I will put my parrot in a
tree, and you may shoot at him all day.”

The boy went to his own canoe, and, returning, held up a
shield of pearl and gold. “See! With a bow I beat our
father and the lord Hualpa, and this was the prize.”

“That a shield!” Nenetzin said. “A toy, — a mere
brooch to a Tlascalan. I have a tortoise-shell that will
serve you better.”

The boy frowned, and a rejoinder was on his lips when
Tula spoke.

“The flowers in your vases are very beautiful, lord Hualpa.
What altar is to receive the tribute?”

Nenetzin's badinage had charmed the ambassador into forgetfulness
of his embassy; so he answered confusedly, “The

noble Tula reminds me of my duty. Before now, standing
upon the hills of Tihuanco, watching the morning brightening
in the east, I have forgotten myself. I pray pardon
—”

Tula glanced archly at Nenetzin. “The morning looks
pleasant; doubtless, its worshipper will be forgiven.”

And then he knew the woman's sharp eyes had seen into
his inner heart, and that the audacious dream he there
cherished was exposed; yet his confusion gave place to delight,
for the discovery had been published with a smile.
Thereupon, he set one of the vases at her feet, and touched
the floor with his palm, and said, —

“I was charged by Guatamozin to salute you again, and
say that these flowers would tell you all his hopes and
wishes.”

As she raised the gift, her hand trembled; then he discovered
how precious a simple Cholulan vase could become;
and with that his real task was before him. Taking the
other vase, he knelt before Nenetzin.

“I have but little skill in courtierly ways,” he said. “In
flowers I see nothing but their beauty; and what I would
have these say is, that if Nenetzin, the beautiful Nenetzin,
will accept them, she will make me very happy.”

The girl looked at Tula, then at him; then she raised the
vase, and, laughing, hid her face in the flowers.

But little more was said; and soon the lashings were
cast off, and the vessels separated.

On the return Hualpa stopped at Tenochtitlan, and in the
shade of the portico, over a cup of the new beverage, now
all the fashion, received from Xoli the particulars of the
contemplated attack upon the strangers in Cholula; for, with
his usual diligence in the fields of gossip, the broker had
early informed himself of all that was to be heard of the
affair. And that night, while Io' dreamed of war, and

the hunter of love, the 'tzin paced his study or wandered
through his gardens, feverishly solicitous about the result
of the expedition.

“If it fail,” he repeated over and over, — “if it fail,
Malinche will enter Tenochtitlan as a god!”