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 Leon, were still in the city where Guatemozin in person led the Aztecs. To this gallant young prince had been given the chief command by his uncle, Cuitlahuac, who had been elected king at the death of Montezuma. Desperate was the fight and great was the havoc wrought by the guns, but at last the gunners were slain, and the fiery monsters captured by the exultant foe. Leon then, valiant both on horseback and foot, ever ready to bear the brunt of battle, made a last heroic stand, and the pile of Aztec dead that rose around him and his brave followers bore witness to the desperation with which they sold their lives. All this time Magarino with his faithful band of Spaniards and Tlascalans had been defending the bridge for his comrades. At last up galloped Alvarado with but a remnant of his men. Carving their way across, they shouted to Magarino that they alone survived of all the rearguard. It was time to raise the bridge and carry it forward to the next canal. But it had been wedged so firmly into the soft banks by the weight of men, horses, and gun carriages, that the utmost efforts to move it were of no avail. Yet Magarino, with despair in his heart, laboured on amidst a terrible storm of missiles. The safety of the whole army depended on him, for how could they escape without the bridge? Closer and closer pressed the Aztecs, ghost -like in their white tunics, and one by one Spaniard and Tlascalan dropped dead at their captain's side. Magarino, left almost alone at his post, gave up the work at last, and with a despairing cry, "Todo es perdido! All 196