As Cortez and his army advanced day after day through provinces where his renown was known, and where Spanish adventurers were established, he was received with every possible demonstration of homage. Triumphal arches crossed his path. Processions advanced to greet him. Provisions were brought to him in abundance. Bonfires, with their brilliant blaze, cheered the night, and festivities, arranged with all the possible accompaniments of barbaric pomp, amused him by day. He arrived at the banks of a wide, deep, and rapid river. To his great gratification, he found that the natives had collected three hundred canoes, fastened two and two, to ferry his army across. At this place Bernal Diaz joined the expedition. Weary of the hardships of war, he complains bitterly that he was compelled again to undergo the fatigues of an arduous campaign. "The general ordered," he says, "all the settlers of Guacacualco who were fit for service to join his expedition. I have already mentioned how this colony was formed out of the most respectable hidalgos and ancient conquerors of the country, and now that we had reason to expect to be left in quiet possession of our hard-earned properties, our houses and farms, we were obliged to undertake a hostile expedition to the distance of fifteen hundred miles, and which took up the time of two and a half years; but we dared not say no, neither would it avail us. We therefore armed ourselves, and, mounting our horses, joined the expedition, making, in the whole, above two hundred and fifty veterans, of whom one hundred and thirty were cavalry, besides many Spaniards newly arrived from Europe." But as they marched resolutely along, week after week, over mountains, through morasses, and across rivers, the country became more wild and savage, the natives more shy, and provisions less abundant. Several days were often occupied in constructing a bridge to cross a river. Scouts were sent out upon either wing of the army foraging for food. The natives fled often from their villages, carrying their food with them. Famine began to stare them in the face. Sickness diminished the ranks, and emaciate men, haggard and way-worn, tottered painfully along the rugged ways. But the indefatigable energy and wonderful foresight of Cortez saved the army. He seemed to have provided for every emergency which mortal sagacity could anticipate. One day the starving army, almost in despair, came to the banks of a large river. The broad current rolled many leagues through a pathless wilderness, and emptied into the Gulf of Mexico. The army, to its great surprise, found fifty large canoes in a little sheltered bay, laden with provisions, and awaiting its arrival. The river was the Tabasco. At its mouth there was an important Spanish colony. Cortez had foreseen the want at that point, and provided the timely supply.