be counted, gathered in the vicinity of
Tabasco, and organized their forces anew, to repel, if possible, the
terrible foe. They were assembled on the great plain of Ceutla. Cortez
had anticipated this, and was also gathering his strength for a
decisive battle. He sent to the ships for six pieces of cannon, his
whole cavalry of sixteen horses, and every available man. A few only
were left to guard the vessels. This powerful re-enforcement soon
arrived. Thus strengthened, his whole army was called together to
celebrate the solemnities of mass, and to implore the blessing of God
in extending the triumphs of the cross over the kingdom of Satan. Thus
they marched forth, with powder, and ball, and neighing steeds, to the
merciless slaughter of those brave men who were fighting for their
country and their homes.

The Spaniards now advanced to meet their foes. It was a lovely
morning, the 25th of March. The natives, in point of civilization,
raised far above the condition of savages, had large fields in a high
state of cultivation, waving with the rich vegetation of the tropics.
After a march of three or four miles through a country cultivated like
a garden, they arrived at the ground occupied by the native army. The
lines of their encampments were so extended and yet so crowded that
the Spaniards estimated their numbers at over forty thousand. To meet
them in the strife Cortez had but six hundred men. But his terrible
engines of destruction made his force more powerful than theirs. The
natives were ready for the battle. They greeted their assailants with
a war-whoop, which rose in thunder tones over the plain, and showered
upon them volleys of arrows, sling-stones, and javelins. At this first
discharge, seventy Spaniards were wounded and one was slain. The
conflict soon raged with all imaginable horrors. The natives fought
with the courage of desperation. They seemed even regardless of the
death-dealing muskets. And when the terrible cannon, with its awful
roar, opened huge gaps in their ranks, manfully they closed up, and
with new vigor pressed the onset. The odds were so fearful that for
some time it seemed quite doubtful on which side victory would rest.

Cortez, heading his cavalry, swept around the plain, and, by a
circuitous route, came unperceived upon the rear of the tumultuous
foe. The sixteen horsemen, clad in steel, urging their horses to their
utmost speed, with loud shouts and sabres gleaming in the air, plunged