As soon as the Mexican messengers had departed, the fat Cacique with many other friendly chieftains, came to beg Cortés to go at once to a town named Cingapacinga, two days' journey from Cempoala (that is about eight or nine leagues)–as there were many warriors of the Culuas, or Mexicans, assembled there, who were destroying their crops and plantations, and were waylaying and ill-treating their vassals, and doing other injuries. Cortés believed the story as they told it so earnestly. He had promised that he would help them, and would destroy the Culuas and other Indians who might annoy them, and noting with what importunity they pressed their complaints, he did not know what to answer them, unless it were to say that he would willingly go, or send some soldiers under one of us, to turn these Mexicans out. As he stood there thinking the matter over, he said laughingly to some of us companions who were with him: “Do you know, gentlemen, that it seems to me that we have already gained a great reputation for valour throughout this country and that from what they saw us do in the matter of Montezuma's tax-gatherers, the people here take us for gods or beings like their idols.