Roger was entirely ignorant, to speak the truth, and, more than that, was amazed at the size of Mexico, and the huge numbers of people he saw about when he looked down from the pass, and the fine houses in which they lived. Till then he had hardly expected the natives in this new part to be much different from those to be seen in Cuba. But he was to learn much in the next few hours, and before he departed from Mexico was to know that these Aztecs were in many ways highly civilized, practising many of the higher arts and crafts, learned in picture writing, and able engineers. Alongside these attainments, Roger learned that they had certain practices which were strangely incongruous in a people so advanced in civilization, and that the nation, from the highest downwards, was swayed by the cruellest superstitions and religious rites. He was now to hear of one of the latter. "Their wicked practices!" he gasped. "What do you mean? They looked peaceful enough, and rather melancholy, I thought. What are these practices?" "The sacrifice, master," said Tamba, mournfully. "These Mexicans have many gods to whom they look, and whom they seek to appease, some with gifts of meat and cereals, others with the sacrifice of animals, while there is one in particular, the mighty war god, named Huitzilopochtli, to whom they offer men." "Men! They sacrifice human beings!" exclaimed Roger, in disgust and dismay. "Then we----" "Are reserved for that fate; and all these others, master. They will kill us so that we may bring fortune to them in their wars, and aid them against the Spaniards." "Then they take us for enemies instead of friends," said Roger, quickly. "They think, perhaps, that we are Spaniards in Cortes's band, and therefore will be more than ever inclined to kill us." "They say that we are a portion of these invaders, and that we must die. The man with whom I spoke told me that. He says that we may be summoned at any time, and that they will drag us to this war god. It is a horrible thought!" Roger looked about him as if in a dream. He was stupefied and stunned by the awful news which Tamba had given him; for though he had by now met danger boldly and without flinching, and had risked his life in the encounters with the Spaniards, yet this cruel fate undermined his courage. He was ready to die when the time came, but to be held down, perhaps, and then slaughtered like a sheep, was too horrible. The thought unmanned him, and for a little while he sank on his knees, his face buried in his hands. Then he gradually recovered his composure and looked about him, his eye turning to the prisoners in the second cage. There were at least two hundred of them, and he was astounded to find that they were chatting contentedly together, some even laughing and joking. Was the same fate reserved for them? He turned and asked Tamba the question.