Picture the lady walking by, a real looker, gold bangles on her arm and a tattoo on her ankle. She’s headed out for some shopping, with a basket strapped on her back. For today’s menu she may choose iguana roasted on the spit, or perhaps armadillo. For cash, her gal pals trade cocoa beans, or a handy gadget that’s the rage with their better halves here in ancient Mexico: a double-edged throwing spear called the atel-atel.

That’s the opening scene of Pilgrims of Chapultepec, a novel by Harrison Shepherd that reads like a joyride. This tribe of ancients will settle down in village life for only so long before it loses its charm to pox, invasion, or bandits—you can count on it. Then they hit the trail again, goaded on by a wild-eyed chief who claims he’ll lead them to a promised land. How will they know they’ve found it? He claims the gods told him to look for an eagle on a cactus, snacking on snake.

Apart from its forehead-wrinkle of a title, this book aims to please: hair-rising battles, narrow escapes, and a heaping portion of adventure, in a tale of hardnosed leaders and men who suffer them.