“Do not try the northern way, Texan,” he said, “it is too far.  Go over the mountains to Vera Cruz, where you will find passage on a ship.”

It seemed good advice to Ned, and, although the change of plan was abrupt, he promised to take it.  Juana gave him a bag of food which he fastened to his belt under his serape, and at midnight, with the blessing of the Holy Virgin invoked for him again, he started.  Fifty yards away he turned and saw the man and woman standing before their door and gazing at him.  He waved his hand and they returned the salute.  He walked on again a little mist before his eyes.  They had been very kind to him, these poor people of another race.

He walked along the shore of the lake for a long time, and then bore in toward the east, intending to go parallel with the great road to Vera Cruz.  His step was brisk and his heart high.  He felt more courage and hope than at any other time since he had dropped from the prison.  He had food for several days, and the possession of the heavy knife was a great comfort.  He could slash with it, as with a hatchet.

He walked steadily for hours.  The road was rough, but he was young and strong.  Once he crossed the pedregal, a region where an old lava flow had cooled, and which presented to his feet numerous sharp edges like those of a knife.  He had good shoes with heavy soles and he knew their value.  On the long march before him they were worth as much as bread and weapons, and he picked his way as carefully as a walker on a tight rope.  He was glad when he had crossed the dangerous pedregal and entered a cypress forest, clustering on a low hill.  Grass grew here also, and he rested a while, wrapped in his serape against the coldness of the night.

He saw behind and now below him the city, the towers of the churches outlined against the sky.  It was from some such place as this that Cortez and his men, embarked upon the world’s most marvelous adventure, had looked down for the first time upon the ancient city of Tenochtitlan.  But it did not beckon to Ned.  It seemed to him that a mighty menace to his beloved Texas emanated from it.  And he must warn the Texans.

He sprang to his feet and resumed his journey.  At the eastern edge of the hill he came upon a beautiful little spring, leaping from the rock.  He drank from it and went on.  Lower down he saw some adobe huts among the cypresses and cactus.  No doubt their occupants were sound asleep, but for safety’s sake he curved away from them.  Dogs barked, and when they barked again the sound showed they were coming nearer.  He ran, rather from caution than fear, because if the dogs attacked he wished to be so far away from the huts that their owners would not be awakened.

Now he gave thanks that he had the machete.  He thrust his hands under the serape and clasped its strong handle.  It was a truly formidable weapon.  He came to another little hill, also clothed in cypress, and began to ascend it with decreased speed.  The baying of the dogs was growing much louder.  They were coming fast.  Near the summit he saw a heap of rock, probably an Aztec tumulus, six or seven feet high.  Ned smiled with satisfaction.  Pressed by danger his mind was quick.  He was where he would make his defense, and he did not think it would need to be a long one.