The army advanced vigorously, and the farther it penetrated the country, the more reason Cortes had to expect a successful issue to his undertaking. Everywhere he heard complaints of Montezuma’s tyranny and cruelty. Everywhere he found governors ready to shake off his yoke. The Spaniards soon left the pleasant, level country, their way leading through the mountainous region, which divides the great tablelands of Mexico and Puebla.[8] The higher they ascended, the sharper and more piercing grew the air, and the wind which swept down the frozen mountain sides made the soldiers shiver, even in their thick woollen uniforms, and benumbed the limbs of men and horses. Their road led them between two of the highest mountains of the North American continent, Popocatepetl,[9] or “Smoking Mountain,” and Iztaccihuatl,[10] or the “White Lady.” The natives held the former mountain sacred to their divinities and for this reason had never made an attempt to ascend it, but the mysterious dread with which the place was invested and the unconquerable love of adventure made some of the Spanish knights eager to accomplish a feat which the natives considered impossible and involving the lives of those who attempted it. Cortes encouraged them for he was anxious to convince the Indians that his followers never flinched from any danger. A captain, Ordaz by name, nine Spaniards, and some of the Tlaxcalans, who had plucked up courage by this time, undertook the ascent. After overcoming many obstacles and dangers, they reached the height of thirteen thousand feet. At this point the Indians, alarmed by a strange subterranean rumbling of the volcano, would go no farther. The Europeans, however, advanced to the vicinity of the crater, but the smoke, sparks, and ashes from the burning interior forced them to return. The army continued its march among hills and through ravines. After great exertions a sight met their eyes which compensated them for their trials and filled them all with delight. A vast and beautiful country lay before them, and in the midst of it a lake, which looked like the sea. Along this lake were many stately cities and towns, and in their midst the queen of them all, the far-away glistening capital, splendid with its many temples and towers.[11] They had reached the valley of Mexico, or Tenochtitlan,[12] as the natives call it. At first view of this magnificent region the astonished Europeans stood as if uncertain whether they were awake or dreaming. All their past dangers disappeared like mists vanishing before the sun, and they were ready now for anything that might happen. Cortes observed their enthusiasm with delight and cautiously advanced along the shore of the lake toward the stately capital.