The fiery rays of the sun poured down upon the nearly exhausted soldiers, who were beginning to despair and give way, while the enemy, constantly reinforced from the rear, pressed on with redoubled fury. At this critical moment the eagle eye of Cortes, ever on the watch for any chance of arresting the coming ruin, descried in the distance a chief, who, from his dress and surroundings, he knew must be the commander of the Aztec forces. He wore a rich surcoat of feather-work, and a gorgeous plume of jewelled feathers floated from his helmet, while above this, and attached to his back between the shoulders, showed a golden net fastened to a short staff--the customary symbol of authority for an Aztec commander. Turning quickly round to Sandoval, Olid, Alvarado, and Avila who surrounded him, he cried, pointing to the chief, 'There is our mark! Follow and support me!' And shouting his war-cry he plunged into the thickest of the press. Taken by surprise the enemy fell back; those who could not escape were trampled under his horse's feet, or pierced by his long lance; the cavaliers followed him closely; in a few minutes they were close to the Aztec chief, and Cortes hurled him to the ground with one stroke from his lance; a young cavalier named Juan de Salamanca hastily dismounted and slew him where he lay, and tearing away his banner presented it to the Spanish general. The cacique's guard, overpowered by this sudden onset, fled precipitately, and their panic spread to the other Indians, who, on hearing of the death of their chief, fought no more, but thought only of escape. In their blind terror they impeded and trampled down their own comrades, and the Spaniards, availing themselves fully of the marvellous turn affairs had taken, pursued them off the field, and then returned to secure the rich booty they had left behind them. [Illustration]