The next day he was met by six thousand Tlascalans. These instantly attacked him, filling the air with their arrows, and making the plain echo with their yells, drums, and trumpets. But the cannons made sad havoc among them, and in a little time they gladly retreated to the top of a hill in the distance, from which they soon disappeared. Following on, Cortes reached at length the same height, when the whole Tlascalan army burst upon his sight. The plain far and wide was covered with the multitude. Forty thousand men were there, under the command of Xicotencatl, the general-in-chief of the Tlascalan republic. Undismayed by the numbers, he commanded his men to keep together at all hazards, and commenced at once descending the hill, amid flights of stones and arrows. They reached the plain: the cavalry and artillery were fairly brought into the action, and once more, after an hour’s hard fight, the Tlascalans retreated before them. This was an unfortunate day for the Tlascalans; multitudes of their men were slain--how many, it is impossible to say, for, like all Indians, they carried off their dead to conceal their losses. Eight of their chiefs fell, while two were made prisoners. The Spaniards had fifteen men wounded, of whom only one died. One of their horses, however, was killed. The Indians carried the body away in triumph, and, cutting it in pieces, sent parts of it to all the cities of Tlascala. Though victorious, Cortes was not satisfied with this hard struggle. The loss of one man was sorely felt by him; and he felt, moreover, that if other nations should by any chance join the Tlascalans, there was no hope of success to his enterprise. He desired peace, therefore, and accordingly sent his two prisoners to their countrymen with offers of peace. To this friendly message, Xicotencatl only sent back this bold answer:--“Bid them proceed to Tlascala, where the peace they shall meet from us shall be displayed by the sacrifice of their hearts and blood to the gods, and of their bodies to our feasts.”