flict with somebody, as the ceremonies of his induction to office were never complete until he had brought home a train of captives. Some of these he must capture with his own hands—a feat which was sometimes accomplished by strategy, but oftener in a hand-to-hand fight. Although all these tribes believed that heaven was made for warriors and that none had higher seats there than those who died on the bloody stone of sacrifice, yet they had a natural love of life, and never yielded to their fate without a struggle. A Mexican's first aim in battle was not to kill his enemies, but to take captives. He would sacrifice a score of lives rather than fail in this aim.
The tactics of the Aztecs in war were those of rude nations. A favorite device was to feign retreat, and thus to decoy their victims into snares. Their ingenuity in such stratagems was equaled only by the patience with which they were carried into execution. The most daring warriors, and even the "chief-of-men" himself, would hide in some pit dug on a road toward which the enemy was enticed, and here they would remain motionless for hours, even days, like tigers waiting for a chance to spring on their hapless victims. They never left the field without carrying off their dead and wounded—a custom which sometimes turned victory into defeat.
These tribes all went into battle with a defiant war-whoop. Each clan had its own war-cry—usually its own name—and every pueblo had its standard. The device of Mexico was a cactus on a stone, rudely painted on a banner and carried on a pole high over the troop by a chosen standard-bearer; and it was as high a point of honor then as now to defend the flag at all risks.
When captives were taken, they were secured, if many, by wooden collars and fastened together in gangs; if few,
