This victory elated the Mexicans exceedingly. They cut off the heads of the sacrificed Spaniards, and sent them to the adjacent provinces, to prove that their gods, now appeased by this signal offering of blood, had abandoned the enemy. The priests sent the assurance far and wide that victory was now certain, as the oracles had returned the response that in eight days the detested enemy should be entirely destroyed. This prediction exerted a great influence upon a superstitious people. Many of the natives who had joined Cortez deserted his cause, and even the Tlascalans began to waver. The prudence and shrewdness of Cortez again met the danger and averted it. For eight days he made no advance, but merely stood on the defensive. The predicted time having expired, he said, "You see that the gods have deceived the Mexicans. They have espoused our cause." The fickle people immediately returned to their stations, and others joined them, so that Cortez, according to his own account, now found himself at the head of one hundred and fifty thousand Indians. Gomara and Herrera assert that there were not less than two hundred thousand. The number of defenders in the Mexican capital can not with accuracy be ascertained. It is estimated, however, from various considerations, that there must have been at least two hundred thousand. The Spaniards, in this sanguinary and protracted siege, often suffered severely for want of food. With apparent reluctance, the historians of the expedition record that their Indian auxiliaries found quite an abundant supply for themselves in the bodies of their enemies. Some of them were rather ashamed to acknowledge that their auxiliaries were inveterate cannibals. Cortez, however, alludes to their horrible repasts quite in a tone of indifference. With greater caution the Spaniards now advanced, fortifying every point they gained, and preparing a smooth and unobstructed road in their rear. Their progress was exceedingly slow, and it was necessary to adopt every possible precaution against an enemy who had manifested such unexpected audacity and skill. As the Spaniards pushed forward, the Mexicans, contesting every inch of the way, sullenly retired, rearing barricade after barricade, and digging ditch behind ditch. But artillery and European science were sure, in the end, to triumph. Gradually the three divisions of the army forced their way across the causeways, and entered the streets of the city. But here the defense was, if possible, still more determined and sanguinary. Every street was a guarded defile, where every obstacle was interposed which Mexican military skill could devise. Every house was a fortress, from whose battlemented roof and loop-holed windows a shower of stones, arrows, and javelins fell upon the besiegers. As the Spaniards gained ground, step by step, they leveled every house, and left entire ruin and desolation behind them.