Indeed I never yet saw an oak tree so large as this ceiba of which I write, either in girth or in its spread of top, unless it be the Kirby oak or the tree that is called the 'King of Scoto' which grows at Broome, that is the next parish to this of Ditchingham in Norfolk.

On this ceiba tree many zaphilotes or vultures were perched, and as we crept towards it I saw what it was they came to seek, for from the lowest branches of the ceiba three corpses swung in the breeze.

'Here are the Spaniard's footprints,' I said.

'Let us look at them,' and we passed beneath the shadow of the tree.
As I came, a zaphilote alighted on the head of the body that hung nearest to me, and its weight, or the wafting of the fowl's wing, caused the dead man to turn round so that he came face to face with me.

I looked, started back, then looked again and sank to the earth groaning.
For here was he whom I had come to seek and save, my friend, my brother, Guatemoc the last emperor of Anahuac.