"Hearken to him, O ye birds!" cried Alvarado. "Thy vanity doth but outdo thy faithlessness, thou black-crested cockatoo. But knowest thou, I shall be fairly content, for my part, when we are indeed in Mexico's great capital, Tenochtitlan; for I grow tired of this marching with one's head watching all ways at once during the day, and taking sleep at night like a dog, with one eye open." "Ay, and worse than a dog--with one's hand on one's sword besides," added Cabrera. Montoro raised his eyebrows as he looked from one to the other of his companions. "Think ye then, that once in the island city all your cares and anxieties will be at an end?" "If they do," put in Gonzalo de Sandoval, "I can tell them so thinks not the General himself. Methinks, for all his assumption of cool confidence, that his black locks grow something touched with grey of late." "And mine also," said Alvarado with a toss of his yellow locks. "But from want of a siesta, and not from any dread of what these poor helpless, red-skinned creatures are likely to do to us." But even the bold Alvarado and the careless Cabrera felt, a few days later, that confidence, and a feeling of security, were not much more certain of acquirement in a town than amid the uncertain perils of the high-way. Meantime their easy and bloodless victory at Cempoalla had taught both officers and men, for the most part, a good-natured contempt for the natives; and this sentiment was increased by the friendliness hitherto shown them on their route, whenever they were able to come fairly to speech with the Indians. Alvarado and Cabrera in particular might be pardoned for their impatience, at what they considered something of overmuch watchfulness, for the sunny hair and blue eyes of the one, and the merry face of the other, had hitherto won them smiles and Benjamin's portions from all they met. However, even before entering a town, the various members of that small army were to learn that their General's prudence was wiser than their own impatience of the discipline. Between the territory of Cempoalla and Mexico lay the fine little warlike, independent republic of Tlascala, governed by a council elected by their tribes, and united by the strongest bonds of patriotism, and mutual hatred to their powerful and aggressive neighbour, the Emperor of Mexico.[8] [Footnote 8: 'Hist. of America.'--Robertson.] Fierce and revengeful, high-spirited and independent, Cortes decided, as soon as he heard of them, that they were the very auxiliaries to be desired in the contemplated conquest. For every step he now made towards the heart of the great empire, gave him fresh evidence of what an astoundingly bold thing he was doing, in adventuring himself and his handful of enfeebled men in such a magnificent enterprise.