After this first victory Cortes continued advancing inland, and on the following day had the satisfaction of seeing two of his messengers approaching in the company of some Tlaxcalans. The latter placed the responsibility for the attack of the day before upon their allies, the Otomis, who had begun hostilities upon their own account and had been punished by the loss of their bravest leader. After this brief apology they took themselves off without making any definite statement of their intentions. In the meantime their mysterious conduct was soon explained, for, on the next day, as the Spaniards advanced nearer Tlaxcala, the other two messengers met them in a mournful plight. They fell at Cortes’ feet weeping, embraced his knees, and with piteous gestures affirmed that the treacherous Tlaxcalans had violated the sacred right of nations and had bound them with chains to be sacrificed to their deities. In the meantime they had succeeded in freeing themselves in the night, but they were confident that the Tlaxcalans were planning to sacrifice the entire Spanish army. Cortes now knew what to expect and resolved to face the danger, however great it might be. He advanced at once and before long saw a countless multitude of armed Tlaxcalans and their auxiliaries with the fierce Xikotenkatl at their head. The battle which ensued was a savage one, and a slight disaster nearly involved the destruction of Cortes’ whole force. A Spanish cavalryman dashed so far into the dense ranks of the enemy that he was surrounded on all sides. He received several wounds, and his horse was pierced so often that it fell dead. The Indians cut off the animal’s head, stuck it upon a spear, and carried it about triumphantly so that all might see the monster was not invulnerable, as they had believed, but was really dead.
This event inspired the Indians with indescribable courage, and they now fought with a fury which the Spaniards could no longer withstand. At the instant when their utter destruction seemed inevitable, to their great astonishment the fierce battle cries of the natives suddenly ceased, and hostilities came to an end. They heard the horns sounding for retreat and beheld the whole great army of the enemy quietly withdrawing for some mysterious reason. This was done, the prisoners afterward stated, because their foremost people had fallen, and their places could not be filled at once. Meanwhile they regarded the horse’s head as their greatest trophy. Xikotenkatl carried it off himself and sent it to the Council.