With the first dawn of the morrow after the day of mutiny, clamour, and expectation, the whole camp was astir, and in no long time after, the army was on its way through a country beautiful enough for the Garden of Paradise, to the Indian city of Cempoalla, one of the centres of the civilization of the Western World. Delighted feelings of new hope arose in the soldiers' minds as they came in sight of fruit-laden orchards in the highest state of cultivation, and gardens evidencing a care and knowledge, in their wonderful beauty and luxuriance, that few indeed of the gardens of Europe could boast in that warlike age. Hernando Cortes and his men marched on. Cortes himself maintained a closely observant silence, but his officers and men were not so reticent, and on all sides there were exclamations of wonder, at the unexpected signs of an advanced civilization and refinement so utterly unlooked-for in those regions. And now their progress began to be somewhat impeded by the innumerable processions that met them from the city,[5] some coming to welcome the strange visitors, some coming as sightseers, to enjoy an early view of the new-comers and their marvellous four-footed companions, whom they took, like the ancients of the old world, to form with their riders one extraordinary animal. [Footnote 5: 'Hist. Conquest of Mexico,' Vol. I., p. 288.--Prescott.] "Are we once more fighting on the battle-fields of Granada, think you!" ejaculated Alvarado to Montoro, as he pointed to a long train of men then approaching the Captain-General, and glittering in the sunlight as they came on, clad in richly-coloured mantles worn over the shoulders in the Moorish fashion, gorgeous sashes of every rainbow tint, or girdles, while splendid jewels of gold adorned their necks, their ears and nostrils. Montoro gazed at them in equal wonder. "But see," he murmured, almost breathless with amaze,--"see yonder, friend Pedro. Let thine eyes travel on a little farther. Is not yon a singular sight to behold in a country where we had taught ourselves to expect nought but savage wilds, and inhabitants sunk in the depths of a miserable degradation? I feel as though I had fallen asleep, to awake in dreamland." "And a fair enough dreamland too," replied Juan de Cabrera. "I care not, for my part, how long I may remain there, so I be not altogether smothered with their flowers." That hope as to the smothering seemed almost needful with reference to the trains of women and young maidens to whom Montoro had directed his companion's notice. Beautifully clad from the neck to the ankles in robes of exquisitely-wrought fine cotton, ornamented with finely-worked golden necklets, bracelets, and earrings, and surrounded by crowds of obsequious attendants, the graceful processions advanced, literally laden with brilliant blossoms, the products of that most lovely country.