"Cacama," burst out the young Ixtlil' now hot with bitter passion, "you are a coward _tamane_![AI] and, as for those open-mouthed councillors who would have my father take my life from me--from me, the Cacique Ixtlil'--from me, the boy captain--by the white robes of Haloc![AJ] I'll make them rue their words ere yet this day's sun cross the dome of the Smoking Hill![AK] If I am to overturn the throne of my fathers as the lying star-men prophesied, then shall not these same babbling 'uncles' live to see the day!" And ere his brother could stop him the enraged boy flung the golden _totoloque_ balls into the sparkling fish-fountain, dashed through the curling clouds of incense that wreathed the wide door-way of the sculptured arcade, and breathing out threatening and slaughter against the offending gray-beards, hurried from his father's palace. Once again terror and commotion filled the streets of Tezcuco, as, at the head of his boyish band, Ixtlil' the young cacique, bent on instant revenge, stormed the houses of the old lords of his father's council and, one after another, dragged them from their homes. The people, thronging the _azoteas_, or broad, flat roofs of the low-walled houses, looked down in wonder and dismay upon this strangest of sights--six gray and honorable "uncles" or councillors of the king, bound neck to neck by the "manacles," or poles with leathern yokes, and driven through the city streets by a band of forty boys. Young Ixtlil's vengeance was sharp and sudden. Ere night fell upon the city the dreadful garrote--the strangling stick and cord--plied by the boy executioners had done its dreadful work, and the six offending councillors lay dead in the _tinguez_, by the order of the fierce boy whom they had offended. And only when the last gray head had fallen a victim to boyish wrath did the stupor of surprise that had held the people give place to action. Then the bowmen of the king swept down upon the boy's brigade, and overcoming all resistance, took the young leader captive and dragged him for speedy sentence before his father, 'Hualpilli the 'tzin. [Illustration: "I'LL MAKE THEM RUE THEIR WORDS ERE THIS DAY'S SUN CROSS THE DOME OF THE SMOKING HILL."] Ixtlil' the cacique knew what to expect. He could hope for no mercy from the king, who was called by his subjects the Wise and Just. He had committed an offence against the state that was punishable with death, and he remembered how, years before, this same wise and just king, his father, had condemned his eldest son to death for breaking the laws of the realm. But with the same Indian stoicism that marked the Aztec, as it did the less cultivated Algonquin and Sioux, the boy went, unresistingly, to meet his fate.