"Manco, the Peruvian Chief" (continued 6)

“Never mind, mate,” he replied; “you are young, and want sleep. I’m accustomed to do with very little, do you see. Often’s the time, for a month on a stretch, I’ve not had more than three or four hours out of the four-and-twenty, and have been roused up to shorten sail two or three times between them.”

The storm had passed away, and when I put my head out through the branches which formed the door of our abode, I saw that the stars were shining brightly in the deep blue sky. As I stood there inhaling the fresh breeze, that I might the more easily keep myself awake, I saw a dark object emerge from among the trees, and stop, as if looking cautiously around. It was standing in the shade, and at first I thought it was an Indian, though what his intention could be I could not divine. Presently he came more into the road, and advanced towards the tower, when I saw, to my no little dismay, that he was an enormous black bear. He had probably, I thought, scented us out; and I fully expected a visit from him. I did not like to arouse Ned; but I took up one of his pistols which lay on his knapsack, and held it in my hand ready to give the gentleman a warm reception, should he venture to put his snout into the tower. On he came, waddling at a great rate down the road.

“He is certainly coming,” I thought. “Now, if I miss him, he will give me a hug I shall not like.”

I cocked my pistol, and kept my stick ready to give him a poke in the eye, which would keep him at bay till Ned could jump up to my assistance. He stopped for an instant, and gave a low growl: his instinct probably told him that some enemies were near. I drew back a little, lest he should catch the glimmer of my eye. Then he again advanced quicker than before. He soon came so close to me that I felt almost certain that I could hit him; but still as I thought I might only wound him and make him savage, I did not like to fire. I scarcely dared to breathe or move. He passed on down the hill, and I again breathed freely. Presently I heard him give another growl, and directly afterwards I saw him waddling back again at a leisurely pace with something in his paws. As he went by the tower, I perceived that it was the unfortunate she-goat, whose kid we had fastened within. I was determined, if I could not save the poor goat’s life, at all events to deprive Master Bruin of his supper, and calling out to Ned, I dashed through the boughs in pursuit of him. It was hazardous work I own, but I had not a moment for thought. Had I, probably I should have acted more wisely. Ned was on his feet in a moment, and with his pistol in his hand in pursuit of the bear. Bruin saw us coming, but showed no inclination to relinquish his prey. He ran on at a great rate, and it was some time before we overtook him. Even when we were close to him, he continued his flight, apparently taking no notice of us.

“Whatever you do, don’t fire, mate, before he shows his face!” exclaimed Ned. “Give him a poke in the neck; it will make him turn perhaps.”

I accordingly gave him a plunge with my stick, keeping, however, beyond the reach of his paws should he turn suddenly round. Even this did not make him stop, so I gave him another dig, which at last brought him to bay, though he still kept hold of the goat. Immediately he faced about. Ned fired his pistol, aiming at his eye. The ball took effect, and, with a growl of fury, the beast rushed at us, at the same time dropping the goat. On this we retreated down the road, repenting not a little of our folly in having attacked him. Seeing that the bear had received no mortal injury, Ned snatched the other pistol from my hand, and waited steadily till the bear got within arm’s length of him. I trembled for his safety, but resolved not to let him stand the brunt of the combat alone. I made a desperate charge with my stick. This distracted the attention of Bruin, who seized hold of my stick, and at the same moment Ned fired. The ball hit him, I saw, but was afraid had not mortally wounded him, for, with a loud growl, he sprung upon my companion. Ned, however, was on the alert, and leaped nimbly on one side, as I did on the other, and the brute fell headlong over on his snout. We could not help giving a shout of triumph at our victory, which made Pedro, who had been awakened by the shots, hurry up to us, wondering what was the matter. We were not quite certain that our foe was really dead; but a few pokes with our sticks at length convinced us that he was so, and we therefore ventured to examine him. The ball from the last shot had hit him in the eye, and entered his brain.

“Some bear steaks won’t be bad things,” observed Ned. “Now mates, let’s look after the goat. I had made sure of a cup of milk for Pedro this morning.”

We found the goat a little way off, but Bruin had hugged the breath out of its body, and it was dead. Pedro and I thereon dragged the goat close to the hut, while Ned was employed in cutting the proposed steaks out of the bear.

“You see, mates, it won’t do to leave the work for the morning, for before that time the condors, the jaguars, and the pumas will be down upon him, and tear every scrap of meat from his bones,” he remarked. “I wish he had been rather farther off, for the beasts will keep up such a concert that we shan’t be able to sleep much more to-night.”

When he had finished operating on the bear, he began on his victim, observing that though goats’ flesh was somewhat strong, it would serve to make a variety in our provisions. We had now more meat than we could well carry, in addition to which, as the kid could not live without its mother, we were obliged to sacrifice that also. On re-entering our abode, Pedro and I employed ourselves in cutting the meat into slips and drying it before the fire, while Ned again laid down to obtain his share of rest. Pedro told me that the species of hear we had killed lived chiefly on fruits and vegetables, and that he often commits great ravages in the maize-fields of the Indians, by breaking off the green tops and carrying them away to his hole in the mountains; but when he cannot obtain that sort of food, he will catch deer and wild boars, and will even attack the oxen employed in the sugar-mills on the plantations. He has also been known, when pressed by hunger, to assail solitary travellers in the mountains.

In the morning, when we went out of our tower, we saw that several condors had been attracted by the carcase of the bear, and were tearing it to pieces. They flapped their huge wings, and glared fiercely at us with their red eyes as we watched them; but did not quit their banquet, from which we had no wish to disturb them. After a hearty breakfast, with renewed spirits and confidence we proceeded on our way. I have not space to recount all our adventures, and must for the future describe only those which were the most interesting.

We climbed mountains, and traversed glens, and crossed torrents by the bridges I have often mentioned; and yet, day after day, not a human being did we meet. Of course we kept as much as possible at a distance from their habitations; but the few farms we passed were deserted, and we had no doubt that the women and children had been removed to more secluded spots, while the men had gone to join the army of Tupac Amaru.

A week had passed, and we were resting to take our midday meal, in a sheltered glen, under the shade of some lofty trees. Pedro, notwithstanding the exertions he had undergone, had almost recovered from his hurts; and I never felt myself in better health and strength, while Ned scarcely knew what fatigue or illness meant. Our provisions had again run short, though we had collected a little Indian corn at some of the deserted farms we had passed.

“Well,” said Ned, who had lighted his pipe and stretched himself out on his back, “I shan’t be sorry when we get to the big river you speak of. Walking is very pleasant exercise, especially when one hasn’t half a hundredweight of traps and provisions to carry; but it’s very slow work you’ll allow. I like to spank along with a ten-knot breeze across the open ocean, with studden-sails alow and aloft; or to glide down a river with a strong current and fair breeze. Ah, mate, if you ever come to sea with me in a smart craft, you’ll know what moving fast means.”

I told him that I should like nothing better, and that I longed to begin our voyage down the Amazon; but that I must first communicate with my Indian friends, to learn if they had gained any tidings of my parents; for still I clung to the hope that they might have escaped destruction. Pedro also was unwilling to leave the country without again seeing his friends. We were all talking very eagerly about our proposed plans, when a loud yell made us start to our feet, and, looking up, we saw a number of Indians posted on the heights above us. Some had bows, with their arrows ready drawn to shoot us; and others had slings in their hands, which they were whirling round with heavy stones, prepared to hurl at our heads. In another moment we should have had a shower of deadly missiles rattling about us, when Pedro, rushing towards them, shouted out, in the Quichua language, that we were friends of the Inca. In an instant the arrows were withdrawn and the slings ceased to whirl, and the Indians came hurrying down the sides of the mountain. In another minute we found ourselves surrounded by a large band of warriors. They examined us attentively, not being able to make out who we could be, though the words spoken by Pedro proved that we were not enemies. Ned Gale, especially, caused them much surprise, for they certainly had never seen a human being like him before. When their chief arrived, he listened to the account Pedro gave him, and replied that though he had no doubt it was correct, we must accompany him to the presence of the Inca and his chiefs, who were encamped at the distance of some days’ journey.

“I suppose it’s all right, mates,” observed Ned, when I told him what had been said. “For my part, I’m ready to go and see this new king of the Injuns, as they call him; and if he’s an honest chap, and wants a helping hand, why I’m ready to give it him. Just you tell them that.”

I did not exactly translate Ned’s message; but I told the Indians that we were anxious to see the Inca, and would be happy to be of any service to him in our power.

The Indians were, I found, on their way to join the army; and as they wished to continue their march, they desired us to pack up our traps and accompany them. They looked upon us, I found, somewhat in the light of prisoners; though of this we had no reason to complain, as they were naturally suspicious of strangers, who might act as spies on their movements. We were treated kindly, but were narrowly watched whenever the party halted to rest. Though not better equipped, they were far more civilised than most of the tribes who composed the army of Tupac Catari; and they marched with some regularity, and took all necessary precautions to guard against surprise. We learned from them that the Spaniards, having recovered from the alarm into which they had been thrown at the commencement of the outbreak, were collecting in considerable force in the neighbourhood of Cuzco, to defend that city from an attack which Tupac Amaru was threatening to make on it.

“It matters not,” observed the cacique, who was my informant. “The more who collect, the greater number of our foes shall we overwhelm with one blow.”

I ventured to doubt this; but he replied—

“Stay till you see the army of the Inca, and try to number our standards; then tell me if you think the white faces can withstand them.”

I thought it better not to dwell on the subject, for fear of irritating the chief; but I recalled to my memory the handful of Spaniards who conquered the well-trained armies of the Inca Atahualpa, and had little hope for the success of his descendant, Tupac Amaru, with his host of undisciplined levies; though doubtlessly their opponents had greatly degenerated from the hardy warriors who fought under Pizarro.

As it was necessary to supply food for the army, and we were passing through a part of the country where the vicuñas abounded, the party halted to engage in a grand hunt, which is termed a chacu. About two hundred men were told off for this purpose; some remaining encamped, and others being sent as scouts, to the rear, to ascertain that no Spaniards were following us. Pedro, Ned, and I were invited by the cacique to accompany him. Half the party were supplied with weapons called bolas. These bolas were composed of three balls of lead or stone, at one end of as many long lines, formed of the twisted sinews of the vicuña, the opposite ends being fastened together. One ball is rather lighter than the others, and when used, this is held in the hand, while the heavier ones are swung in a circle round the head. When the Indian is about twenty paces from the object he wishes to strike, he lets go the lighter ball, and the weapon flies off, and the strings encircle in many folds the neck or legs of the animal.

Besides the bolas, the party had procured from the neighbouring villages a quantity of rope and a number of stakes, and with them we repaired to an extensive, elevated plain, where many herds of vicuñas were observed feeding. Having selected a spacious level spot, the stakes were planted in the ground, at a distance of fifteen feet apart, and were connected together by the ropes about two feet and a half from the ground. A circular space was thus formed, of perhaps a mile and a half in circumference, an opening of about two hundred paces being left to serve as an entrance. Along the rope were fastened bits of coloured rags, which blew about in the breeze, and were intended to frighten the animals, and prevent them from leaping over the barrier. This enclosure is properly called a chacu. It being arranged, we withdrew, and breaking into a number of small parties, we formed a circle at a little distance apart from each other, and several miles across. We then began to close, driving before us, with loud shouts, all the herds of vicuñas we met with. The men opposite the entrance advanced more slowly than the rest; and the timid animals, seeing the fluttering bits of cloth, ran before us with affright, till they reached the open space, when they darted into the chacu. Some fifty vicuñas were thus in a very short time collected, when the Indians, running among them, began throwing their bolas with the greatest dexterity, never failing to entangle the legs of the game, which they speedily killed with their clubs or knives. Sometimes the Indians use the bola on horseback; and I must remark that it requires great dexterity to do so with effect, as a clumsy person is very likely to twist the cords round his own neck or that of his steed, instead of the animal he is hunting. As soon as the vicuñas were killed, they were carried off to the camp to be skinned and cut up; and we then moved to a distance, to form a new chacu. During three days, which we passed in the neighbourhood, we killed two hundred vicuñas; and then, laden with their flesh, we continued our journey.

The vicuña is a more beautiful animal than either the llama or the alpaca. It is between them in size, measuring four feet from the ground to the top of the head, and two and a half feet from the ground to the shoulders. The neck is longer and more slender; and the wool is finer, short, and curly. The top of the head, neck, and back, and the thighs, are of a peculiar reddish hue; and the inner part of the limbs and the lower part of the neck are of a bright ochre colour; and the breast and lower part of the body is white. Each herd consists of from six to fifteen females and one male, who, standing at a distance, acts the part of guardian, while the rest are grazing, and when danger approaches, gives a peculiar whistle and stamp of the foot. The herd look, with outstretched necks, in the direction of the danger, and then take to flight, the male stopping every now and then to cover their retreat, and watch the movements of the enemy. Should he be killed or wounded, the Indians declare that the females will gather round him in a circle, and uttering shrill cries of lamentation, will suffer themselves to be destroyed rather than desert him.

As we proceeded on our march, we fell in with many other parties of Indians, advancing in the same direction; some of whom were of the savage tribes from the far interior, summoned to swell the host of the Inca. Many of them were accompanied by troops of llamas, carrying provisions. Some of these had bells hung round their necks, and were adorned with bows of ribbons at their ears. They proceeded at a slow pace, carrying their long, graceful necks something like the camel, and gazing anxiously around on either side with their wild prominent eyes, to watch the movements of their guides, or to observe the appearance of the country. They were of a variety of colours; brown, black, white, and pie-bald. I may here remark that the extreme height of the animal, from the sole of the foot to the top of the head, is not more than four feet and from six to eight inches; and from the sole of the foot to the shoulder, rather under three feet. Their frames are so slight that they will not carry a load of more than about seventy pounds weight; but they have the valuable qualification of being able to live many days, find even months, without drinking, owing to their power of generating saliva in their mouths.

Other parties had mules for the same purpose. Some were on horseback, and formed an irregular and very Scythian-like looking cavalry. Several bands of those on foot were followed by their wives and children; showing that they felt confident of victory, and came prepared to take possession of the territories they hoped to conquer. At length, after passing through a dark gorge, and climbing a steep acclivity, we once more began to descend; when, from the height on which we stood, we looked down upon the vast army of the Inca, collected on a plain, or rather wide valley, between ranges of lofty mountains.

“What say you now?” exclaimed the cacique, with a look of triumph. “Do the white faces dream of the mighty host collected to liberate for ever the kingdom of the Incas from their cruel hands?”

“I have heard that it was prophesied that the kingdom of the Incas should be restored by the people of my country. There are none of them there,” I replied.

“It is true,” said the cacique. “But if you and your bold friend were to fight by the side of the Inca, might not the prophecy be thus fulfilled?”

I at once saw the mistake I had made in thus speaking; for I felt that I might be compelled, contrary to the advice my father had given me, to engage actively in a contest in which I had no personal interest.

Before I had time to reply, the signal of advance was given, and the party hurried down the steep to join their comrades in the valley. Far as the eye could reach in either direction, and even up the mountains sides, were extended the vast host of the Inca, drawn up in battle array. From among their dusky lines arose a forest of waving banners, long lances, and battle-axes, tossing to and fro, and glittering in the rays of the noonday sun which shone down upon their heads. At intervals might be seen rich panoplies of feather work and lofty plumes, marking the post of some leading cacique, or Inca noble. Some way to the right, on a rising ground, rose the magnificent canopy under which the Inca Tupac Amaru was to be found, surrounded by his generals and nobles.

As the march was about to commence, our conductors hurried us down the hill past the crowded ranks of the army, towards the spot where the Inca was stationed. When a little distance off, he went forward alone, and prostrating himself before the monarch, announced the arrival of some captives. The Inca immediately ordered us to be brought before him. He was seated under the canopy on a cushioned throne, richly ornamented with gold; and on either side of him were ranged a dense mass of his chiefs and councillors, all dressed in garments similar to those worn by their ancestors. Tupac Amaru himself was habited as tradition has described Atahualpa; and he wore as a crown the crimson borla, or fringe, which hung down as low as the eye-brow, and gave a very peculiar expression to his grave and handsome countenance. I have before mentioned that he was a tall and dignified person; and he looked well worthy in every respect to be the sovereign of the assembled multitude. When he saw us he beckoned us to approach, and made inquiries of our conductor respecting us, not knowing that Pedro and I understood the Quichua language. The cacique simply stated where he had found us, and replied that we could answer for ourselves.

I begged Pedro to act as spokesman, and he gave a short account of our adventures, as well as of my history. The Inca seemed much interested, and assured us of his protection; at the same time inviting us to accompany him in his march to lay siege to Cuzco. Pedro in reply, having expressed our gratitude to the Inca, entreated to be allowed to remain behind, assuring the Inca that he was ready to lay down his life for the benefit of the Indians, but that the Spaniards were his countrymen and he could not fight against them. The nobles who stood round seemed very much offended at this; but the Inca observing that he should consider the subject, turned to Ned and asked him what he would do. I put the question to him in English.

“Tell His Majesty, if it’s to fight the Dons, I’ll help him with all my heart,” he at once replied. “It comes natural like, and it won’t be the first time I’ve been at blows with them. I owe them a grudge, too, for killing as honest a fellow as ever stepped, and that was my late skipper. Tell him all that, mate, and say I’m his man whenever he wants me.”

The Inca appeared much pleased at Ned’s reply, which I interpreted; but he seemed less inclined to treat Pedro and me with favour. My turn came next. I own that I felt great reluctance to refuse fighting, and having no sufficient excuse to offer, was about to answer that I was ready to serve in any capacity the Inca might desire, when a loud shout was raised, and a fresh body of Indians was seen hurrying down the mountain’s side. A chief came at their head, and I looked towards him as the loud shouts of those around me gave him welcome. I could scarcely believe my eyes. It was my friend Manco! I was certain of it; and forgetting the presence of the Inca and his nobles, I rushed forward to meet him.

It was Manco in reality. We clasped each other’s hands, and for a time could scarcely speak. He had thought me dead, or lingering in a Spanish prison, while I till now had been uncertain of his fate. He told me that when he was led out to be shot, it had occurred to him that by keeping his eye on the soldiers he might drop as they fired, and allow the balls to fly over him; and that as he knew a number of Indians were collected on the other side of the river, by swimming across, they might assist him to escape. He never lost his presence of mind, and watching for the moment the soldiers drew their triggers, he fell to the ground, instantly again springing up and flying to the river. Before the smoke from the muskets had cleared away, he had plunged in and was swimming across. Several bullets struck the water close to him, but landing uninjured, he and his friends set off towards the mountains as rapidly as they could proceed. They were pursued by a strong body of Spanish soldiers, who followed them to their retreat. It was several days before they could elude their enemies, and they had then marched through a number of Indian villages to collect recruits, before joining the army.

After he had paid his respects to the Inca, he introduced Pedro and me as his friends, and we at once perceived that we were regarded in a more favourable light than before. We accordingly obtained permission to remain with him; but as the Inca was desirous of having Ned to assist in working his artillery, several pieces of which were with their army, we very unwillingly were compelled to part from him.

Manco having performed his public duties, now set out in search of his wife and child, whom he heard were with the women in the camp. Notice had been given to Nita of his escape from death and safe return, and she with her infant was ready to receive him. This meeting was very affecting; and as the brave warrior once more took his child in his arms, he wept over it for joy. He could not, however, remain with her long, for his duties called him back to the army.

“Pedro, my friend,” he said, “I know you would not fight against your countrymen; to your charge, therefore, I commit my wife; watch over her, and guard her from danger. If I fall, carry her and my child to a place of safety, and restore her, when times of peace again return, to her father and her people.”

Pedro with tears promised to obey his wishes.

“And you, David, what will you do?” he asked.

“I will accompany you,” I replied, forgetting my former resolutions, and inspired with admiration for the gallant chieftain. “I will fight by your side, and help to restore peace and prosperity to Peru.”

Chapter Seventeen.

Siege of Sarata—Capture of Tupac Amaru.

We found the head quarters of the Inca established in an ancient castle, built of large hewn stones on the side of a mountain, and which, from its size and mode of construction, is still one of the wonders of Peru. Here he held his court, and was treated with all the honours due to a sovereign prince. I was particularly struck with the amount of etiquette which was maintained, when I recollected that the Inca himself had, but a few months before, been living the life of a simple farmer, as had his chiefs and councillors, and that many of them had indeed been little better than slaves to the Spaniards. Manco informed me that it had been resolved to despatch him with a force of ten thousand men to join a body of the same number under the command of Andres Tupac Amaru, the young son of the Inca, who was laying siege to Sarata, a large town not far from the lake of Titicaca; and he begged me to accompany him. I was sorry to be separated from Ned Gale, but he said that the Inca had put the guns under his charge, and as they were not to go, he would stick by them.

I was furnished with a very good horse, and took my place by the side of Manco. The men being amply supplied with cacao every day, without apparent fatigue performed forced marches which would have completely knocked up any European troops. As we advanced, we found that all the white inhabitants had fled and taken refuge in the town, where it was said twenty thousand people were collected. My readers may be assured that my great object was, if possible, to mitigate the horrors which I dreaded would take place should my Indian friends prove successful. On our arrival we found the young Andres closely investing the town, the inhabitants of which were already suffering from famine, though they had sternly refused to listen to a summons which had been sent in to them to surrender. They had just before made a sortie, when the Indians had lost a number of men; but they were, after much desperate fighting, again compelled to retire within their trenches. The Indians had taken several prisoners, among whom was a priest; and as soon as we arrived he was sent in with a second summons, containing offers of peace on such conditions as might be agreed on between commissioners to be appointed on both sides. The young general, with Manco and other chiefs, were standing on a hill overlooking the town when the priest proceeded on his mission.

“What is proposed to be done if the inhabitants refuse your terms?” I asked.

“Look there,” he replied. “You see that from the river which passes at a short distance from us, there is a deep ravine leading to the town, and somewhat lower than its banks. By blocking up the course of the river, we propose to turn its waters into the ravine, when they will rush down and speedily flood the ramparts, and wash them away.”

I doubted the power of the Indians to perform this.

“Think you not the descendants of those men who formed these great roads, and built the castles and palaces which still endure, can perform so small a task as that?” he replied. “Wait, my friend, till you see.”

After a considerable delay the priest returned, and acknowledging that the inhabitants were reduced to feed upon mules, dogs, cats, and rats, said that they agreed to the proposed terms, with a truce of two days. During this time numbers of half-famished wretches were allowed freely to wander out and collect all the food they could from the Indians. At the end of the time two officers of the garrison came out, and sent a message by the priest, stating that they were deputed to act as commissioners, and proposed that the enemy should retire to a distance, while the chiefs should meet them midway between the troops and the town. No objection was made, and young Andres, Manco, and other chiefs, with about twenty followers, repaired to the proposed spot. Scarcely had they arrived there than some of their sentinels, posted on a neighbouring hill overlooking the town, gave notice that the Spaniards were collecting in great force at the gates, and were evidently meditating a sortie to capture the chiefs. On this the two Spaniards who were approaching the place of meeting, attempted to escape into the town; but the Indians intercepting them, cut them down as a strong party of the garrison rushed from the gates. The chiefs, vowing vengeance for the meditated treachery, had barely time to retreat; their forces came hurrying up for their protection; and the siege once more commenced with greater activity than before.

The Indians mustered nearly a thousand muskets, with which they kept up a hot fire on the trenches: besides which, they assailed the town with flights of arrows, showers of stones and burning darts, which set fire to many of the houses where they fell. Still the town held out, and the leaders, anxious to proceed to other conquests, sent in a third summons to the garrison to surrender. Another priest was the bearer. I waited with much anxiety for his return, as the Indians had vowed to destroy all the inhabitants, should the town be taken after their offer had a third time been refused. I was not, indeed, quite certain that, in case of a surrender, some of the chiefs and their followers did not meditate treachery. They were, it must be remembered, ignorant savages, and on too many occasions the Spaniards had set them an example they were likely to imitate.

I took my food each day with Manco on a hill overlooking the town, from whence a perfect view could be obtained of the whole scene of operations. During the absence of the envoy hostilities had ceased, and the Indians had withdrawn to a distance from the trenches. They now formed a circle round the town, their cavalry occupying every level space, and the infantry covering the surrounding hills with dense masses. The river flowed calmly by; the valleys looked bright and smiling; and the town itself seemed wrapped in perfect repose. Alas! it was the repose which precedes dissolution. At length the priest was seen issuing from the gates, and taking his way with a sorrowful countenance towards the quarters of the young Indian general. We immediately repaired there. The inhabitants, mistrusting the Indians, as I concluded, refused to surrender.

“Then their doom is sealed,” said Andres; and forthwith gave orders to block up the course of the river, so as to direct it into the ravine communicating with the town.

Several thousand men were employed day and night at this work, while the rest kept the besieged in play. After two weeks’ incessant labour, the works were declared complete, and the whole army prepared for a general assault. I took up my usual post to watch the result, hoping for the sake of humanity that it might fail, but induce the inhabitants to submit. At a given signal the embankments were knocked down, and the water in a vast torrent rushed towards the town, flooding the entrenchments and shaking the walls. They, however, withstood the shock, and the brave defenders again returned to the shattered works from which they had been driven. Once more the sluices were shut, and the inhabitants were left to fancy that the threatened danger had passed by. The next morning, however, the Indians again surrounded the devoted town; in an increased volume the water was made to pass through the ravine, and sweeping onward in a terrific torrent, it rushed down upon the trenches and ramparts, carrying all before it. The defenders fled in dismay from their posts; the signal for advance was given, and the Indians, led on by their fiercest chiefs, dashed through the newly-formed breach and entered the town.

I would willingly draw a veil over the scene of horror which ensued. Little or no opposition was offered; but the spirit of vengeance was aroused, and not a man they encountered escaped. Prayers and entreaties were disregarded—death was dealt on every side. Those who attempted to fly were driven back; and of the twenty thousand persons who in the morning walked alive through the streets, women only and a few priests, and one or two laymen, who had taken refuge within the church, were spared. I had earnestly entreated Manco to do his utmost to save the lives of those who offered no resistance, pointing out to him the policy of so doing; and through his means chiefly those few persons were preserved from destruction. He had claimed some of them as his own property; and for their better protection they were brought to the hut he and I inhabited, on a hill a short distance from the town.

Among them was a man whose deep dejection, and countenance and manners, deeply interested me. Though his dress was soiled and bloody, I at once perceived that he was a gentleman.

“Alas!” he said, “I have been the child of misfortune from my earliest clays. Whenever any bright prospect has appeared before me, it has vanished ere I could enjoy it. I married a wife; she was young and beautiful; but poverty oppressed us, and she had been accustomed to wealth and luxury. A child was born to us, and I trusted it would reconcile her to our lot; but as we were travelling through the country, we were attacked by the Montoneros, and the infant, and the nurse who had charge of him, were carried away to the mountains and slain, for we could never again hear tidings of either of them. For years I toiled on till I amassed a handsome fortune; but scarcely was it obtained, when death deprived me of my wife. I had laid out my money in the purchase of an estate, in the cultivation of which I had resolved to employ myself till heaven should allow me to join my wife and child in another world, when this dreadful outbreak commenced, and reduced me to beggary. By a strange fate, though all my companions have been destroyed, I still am bound to life, which I would gladly have quitted.”

Don Gomez de Castro, I learned, was the prisoner’s name. Our conversation, which had been prolonged till a late hour, for it was now night, was interrupted by a blaze of light, which illuminated the whole sky. Hurrying to the door of the hut, the cause became apparent. The unfortunate town of Sarata was on fire. In every direction the flames were bursting furiously forth, till the entire place became one burning mass. Don Gomez, as he looked at the scene, wrung his hands, and wept bitterly. The fire raged all night; and next morning nothing remained of Sarata but a heap of smouldering ashes. The Indians triumphed, as savages alone may be excused in triumphing, over their fallen enemies. The priests who had been rescued, were, however, treated with respect; which showed the extraordinary influence they had obtained over the minds of the people. Had it been more beneficially exerted, by teaching them the simple truths of pure Christianity, it would assuredly have prevented the horrors of the outbreak; but I fear their aim had rather been to establish their power, for their own selfish advantage, than for the sake of religion. “By their fruits ye shall know them.”

A council of war was now held; when the young General Andres resolved to advance upon the town of La Paz; while Manco, with five thousand men, was to keep the communication open with the north, where he was to rejoin Tupac Amaru.

I rejoiced at this, for I was anxious to see Pedro and Ned Gale again; and I own, from the scenes I had witnessed, I longed to quit the Indian army, and to commence our proposed journey towards Europe. We marched as rapidly as before; the cavalry scouring the country in every direction, and now and then reporting that they had met and destroyed a few of the enemy; but no prisoners were brought in.

I had often expostulated with Manco in vain, on the wanton destruction of human life. His answer was, “We treat the Spaniards as they treated us. I cannot prevent my people from taking vengeance.”

Yet, strange to say, every chief made a point of attaching to himself, as a Christian chaplain, one of the priests who had been saved from the captured towns and villages.

As we approached the neighbourhood of Cuzco, intelligence was brought us that the Spaniards had collected in great force in that city; and that having been joined by a number of Indian tribes from Chili, and further to the south, they were well prepared to give battle to Tupac Amaru. On hearing this, we redoubled our efforts to join the main army. We found them drawn up in the neighbourhood of Tungasuca, in an extensive flat, with a hill on one side, and a river in their rear, prepared to receive the enemy, who were advancing along a valley in their front. A strong body was posted on the hill, where the artillery was likewise stationed. I at once repaired there, in the hopes of finding Ned; but the cacique who had command of it received me very coldly, and informed me that the services of my countryman were no longer required, and that he could not tell where he was. This chief went by the name of Quizquiz, after a famous general of the Inca Atahualpa. I had met him before. I did not like either his countenance or his manners; but the Inca had confidence in him, and listened to his advice. He had become, I suspected, jealous of Ned, and did not like his interference.

After wandering about for some time among the motley assemblage of dusky warriors, I found my old friend in the rear, sitting on the ground, and quietly smoking his pipe. As soon as he saw me, he jumped up and wrung my hand heartily.

“I’m glad to see you, mate, that I am,” he exclaimed. “I’ve been waiting for you, to be off; for the sooner we are out of this, the better, I’m thinking. A set of lubbers there have got hold of the guns, which they don’t know how to work; and they’ll do themselves no good, and the enemy no harm, when they begin to fight, I warrant. The Inca is as fine a fellow as ever stepped; but for that Señor Quizquiz, or whatever they call him, he’ll play him some trick, or my name’s not Ned Gale; mark that, mate.”

Ned having thus vented his spleen, as many another man would have done at having been deprived of his command, told me that Pedro was at a village among the hills in the neighbourhood, anxiously waiting my return. He informed me also that the wife of the Inca, Nita, and a large number of other women were collected there. Accompanied by Ned, I returned to where Manco with his men was encamped; and obtaining permission from him to carry off Don Gomez, we set out to look for Pedro. I was mounted, and I had likewise obtained horses for my companions. Beyond the river I have spoken of there was a succession of lofty hills, among which was situated the village now inhabited by the wives of the chiefs and other women. We were obliged to ride along the banks of the river some way, till we found a ford, which we crossed. As we ascended the first eminence, and looked back upon the scene we had left, it presented a very beautiful appearance. The long lines of warriors, their shining arms, the innumerable banners, and the variety of costumes, from the half-naked savages of the interior, with their skin mantles and feather crowns, to the well-clothed inhabitants of the mountains and western plains, and the rich dresses of the chiefs embroidered with gold and ornamented with precious stones. Then the extraordinary mixture of weapons—the artillery and muskets of modern warfare, with the bows, the slings, the clubs, and darts of ancient times. Each man had come provided with such arms as he could procure; and for years before every Indian who could obtain a musket had carefully concealed it for the moment when he hoped to use it for the liberation of his country.

Tupac Amaru had acted the part of a good general, by providing an ample commissariat, and several mills for the manufacture of gunpowder. Had he at once followed up the successes with which the outbreak commenced, instead of wasting his time in preparing the pageants of mock royalty, I see no reason to doubt that he might really have re-established the dynasty of the Incas in Peru. If we look at the way in which the Circassians, a mere handful of men, have for so many years defended against the arms of the Russians, a country more difficult to protect, we cannot but believe that the Peruvians might have successfully held the passes of the Andes against any force Spain could have sent against them. In the case of the Circassians, however, it is the superior race, few in number, and unaccustomed to what is called civilisation, but defending their mountains against the inferior, though armed and disciplined by service; whereas the Peruvians were decidedly far lower in the scale of human beings than the Spaniards, and for long ages had been unacquainted with war, and had yielded submission to those against whom they had now risen. There were many noble spirits among them; but others had the faults which years of slavery will ever leave behind, and treachery and deceit were among them. Such reflections as these passed through my mind as I watched the embattled host.

Just as we gained the brow of the hill, the loud roar of cannon sounded in our ears, and turning our horses’ heads, we saw a large body of Spanish cavalry galloping towards the Peruvian army. The artillery of the latter had opened on them at too great a distance to harm them. They halted for a time to allow the infantry to advance with several light field pieces, which at once commenced a very effectual fire on the crowded ranks of the Indians. Several large bodies of the Peruvians rushed gallantly on to meet them; when the Spanish cavalry charged in among their somewhat disordered ranks, and drove them back with great loss. Quizquiz finding, it appeared, that his guns did little execution from whence he was posted, dragged them on more in advance. Ned watched him anxiously.

“There,” he exclaimed, “I thought it would be so. Does the lubber think the Dons will let him stay there quietly to fire at them?”

Quizquiz, however, seemed to think differently, and began firing away with great animation, his shot telling with some effect on the Spanish ranks. No sooner was this perceived, than a strong body was despatched to attack him. Some Peruvian troops were also marching to his support; but his danger had not been seen in time, and the Spaniards charging them with great spirit, the general took to flight, and left his guns in the possession of the enemy. I had before suspected him of intending treachery, and I was now certain of it. He, with a number of his men on horseback, rode off, and did not stop till he had crossed the river below us.

The action now became general. The whole Indian line advanced, led on by Tupac Amaru and his bravest chiefs. Both sides fought with the greatest bravery; but the Spanish infantry, trusting in the superiority of their firearms, kept at a distance from the Indians, the cavalry only charging every now and then as the broken ranks of their opponents offered them an opportunity of success. So vastly superior, however, were the Indians in numbers, that the wings being moved forward were on the point of completely encircling the Spaniards, when the whole force of the latter, advancing at a quick march, made a desperate attack on the Peruvian centre, the cavalry meantime charging the wings. The Indians, already shaken, could not withstand the shock. The chiefs urged them on. Many fought with the most desperate bravery. It had now become a hand-to-hand combat, the Spaniards like a wedge forcing their way onward. The great aim seemed to be to seize the Inca. Several of his chiefs perceiving this, seized his horse’s bridle, and endeavoured to drag him out of the fight. His followers, believing that it was the signal of defeat, gave way, and fled in all directions. The chiefs in vain attempted to stop them. Some fled across the plain, others climbed up the neighbouring heights, and many attempted to cross the river.

Among the latter was the Inca, with the chiefs who had surrounded him for his protection. The Spanish cavalry followed close upon their heels. The Inca plunged in with his horse, which boldly stemmed the torrent; while his gallant followers turned and bravely attempted to oppose the passage of the Spaniards, till he had crossed safely over. The latter, flushed with victory, charged them fiercely, and cutting at them with their swords, scarcely a man remained alive. The Inca, with his son and brother, and other relatives, had reached the opposite bank, and was galloping towards the mountains, where he might have found a safe retreat; when the traitor Quizquiz, who, with his followers, had been lying in ambush, rushed out and surrounded him. So completely taken by surprise was he, that neither he nor any of his companions attempted to defend themselves. Of those who did, one man only escaped from among them, and we saw them galloping with desperate speed towards us. Meantime the Spanish cavalry had crossed the stream, and the traitor advancing to meet them, in a few minutes the unfortunate Inca was in their power.

We had been so intently watching these events, that we had not observed what was taking place in another direction. When the chief who had made his escape was perceived by the Spaniards, several horsemen were sent in pursuit of him. He urged on his horse with desperate speed over the rocky and broken ground, at the foot of the sierra on which we stood, the soldiers every now and then discharging their pieces at him. My interest increased as he approached, for I fancied that I recognised my friend Manco. His pursuers got nearer to him, and fired more frequently. I dreaded lest their shot should take effect. They were close upon his heels; for his horse, wearied with his long journey and constant exertion during the day, could scarcely bear him on. Just at that moment a shout reached my ears, and looking up in the direction whence it came, I saw Pedro running along the ridge of the hill towards us. I waved to him as a signal that I had recognised him, and then once more turned to watch Manco’s progress. Tired as was his steed, it was more accustomed to the rough ground than were those of the Spaniards, with their heavy arms and accoutrements. The noble animal exerted all its energies, well aware, it seemed, that a life depended on its speed.

Chapter Eighteen.

Pedro finds his father—Murder of the Inca.

I have said that Don Gomez was at my side. As he saw the Spaniards drawing near, he turned to me. “Señor David,” he said, “these are my countrymen. The Indians have lost the day.”

“You would wish to join them. Is it so?” I asked.

“I would. Have I your permission?” he said.

“You were committed to my charge by yonder chief, who, I trust, will be with us soon. If he gives you your liberty, your word will not be broken, though I shall be sorry to part from you,” I replied.

“But the Indians are defeated,” urged Don Gomez. “Am I to remain a prisoner for ever?”

“Till he who received your word restores it to you,” I again answered; and while I was speaking, Pedro reached us. For a moment he was too breathless to speak; and during this interval I observed that Manco had so far got ahead of his pursuers, that their shot began to fall short. They halted; for just then they perceived us on the hills, probably supposing us enemies; and at the same moment a party of Indians, who lay concealed in some brushwood below us, sprang upon them. Had the Indians waited till the soldiers had advanced a little further, every man of the latter might have been killed or captured. As it was, they had time to turn their horses, and gallop off the way they had come, followed by a shower of arrows, which killed one and wounded another of them.

Manco, without stopping, made his horse breast the hill. He had got up some way, when we saw the noble animal stagger and fall, and both horse and rider lay motionless on the ground. Ned and I galloped down the hill towards him; for Don Gomez had, in the moment before, thrown himself from his horse, and was standing grasping Pedro’s hand, and looking earnestly in his face. We reached Manco. We found that his horse was dead, and that he had received a severe wound in his side. While we were stooping over him, the Indians came up, and, not knowing who we were, were on the point of knocking us on the head with their clubs, when he recovered his senses, and exclaimed that we were friends. We were once more aroused to action by Pedro’s voice; and lifting Manco on my horse, which was fresh and strong, I rode up the hill, accompanied by Ned, and followed by the Indians.

“Fly, fly!” exclaimed Pedro. “I came to warn you of the danger you are in. Look there, look there!”

We looked in the direction he pointed; and I now perceived that while we had been watching the flight and capture of the Inca, and Manco’s subsequent escape, which had occupied a considerable time, a strong body of troops had crossed the ford higher up the river, and were advancing rapidly along the path which led to the village where the wives of the chiefs had been left. In a few hurried words, Pedro told me that on hearing the firing, he had come out to see what was taking place, and that, like ourselves, he had been watching the battle from another height. To my deep regret, I found that, from the character of the ground, the troops were already much nearer the village than we were, and already occupied the only approach to it, so that the Indian women must inevitably fall into their power. I endeavoured to conceal this information from Manco; for, heart-broken and wounded as he was, I thought it would kill him outright. Those only, however, for whom I felt a personal interest, were Nita and her child; and I would have run every risk to save them. We were at the time posted in a dip in the hill, and while Ned and I bound up Manco’s wound, I sent Pedro to a height above us, to report the movements of the troops. In a short time he gave notice that a party of them had been detached from the main body, and were advancing in our direction. I concluded that as we climbed the hill, followed by the Indians, we had been perceived, and that, unless we were prepared to run the risk of falling into the hands of the Spaniards, we must make our escape. Manco was sufficiently recovered to sit on horseback, and I proposed giving him my horse and following on foot. As we were about to move off, I recollected Don Gomez’s request.

“He is at liberty to go,” answered Manco. “Perhaps he may recollect how he has been treated, and intercede for some of the unfortunate Indians who have fallen into the hands of his countrymen.”

To my surprise, Don Gomez refused the offer.

“I will remain some time longer with you, unless that, youth (pointing to Pedro) may accompany me. I would ask him some further questions; for his countenance has strangely agitated my mind.”

I had no opportunity of inquiring what he meant, when Pedro exclaimed that he saw an Indian woman, with a child in her arms, on the ridge of the hill, at some distance; and that the party of soldiers he had seen detached from the main body, were evidently in pursuit of her.

Manco hearing these words, seemed to surmise what had occurred, and, in spite of his wound, throwing himself on my horse and calling on the Indians to follow, he galloped along the rocky height. The eye of love at once recognised the person of the fugitive. It was his own Nita. We all hurried after him, and even Don Gomez seemed anxious for his success. Ned, who was the only other person on horseback, and who, though he rode like a seaman, always managed to make his steed cross places few people would have ventured over, was soon by his side, and together the two galloped on towards the Indian woman.

“Hurra,” shouted Ned, “Hurra! Mr Indian, hurra! We’ll manage to diddle the Dons.”

The Spanish soldiers had begun firing; but as they had at the same time to climb the hill, and were at a considerable distance, their aim was not good. Their bullets, notwithstanding, as we got nearer, came whizzing by our heads; but still we pushed on. They were evidently, however, gaining on the poor girl; and should she fall, or her strength fail her, they would be up to her before her husband could arrive to her rescue. I have often had to undergo moments of great excitement, but never have I felt such intense anxiety as I did for Nita’s rescue. On galloped Manco and Ned. The soldiers saw them coming, and fired a volley. I saw Manco reel for an instant, but still he sat his horse. In another minute Ned had lifted Nita on his horse, and placed her before him, and handing the child to Manco, the two returned at the same rapid rate towards us. The Spaniards, disappointed of their prey, halted, and fired again; and then seeing only a small body of Indians, continued their advance. As we had nothing to gain by fighting, I called out to Manco, as he came up, to order the Indians to retreat. We managed to do so in very good order, and at so rapid a rate that we soon distanced the Spaniards. They were, however, continuing the pursuit, when the sound of a bugle from the main body called them back. Halting as they heard it, they fired a parting volley after us. It was well aimed; several of the Indians were struck, as was also the unfortunate Don Gomez. I ran to his assistance; but he still sat his horse.

“It is nothing,” he said; “a mere flesh wound, which I shall soon recover from.”

I beckoned Pedro, who went up to him and walked by his side. I was afraid lest a sudden faintness should make him fall from his horse.

“What do you propose doing?” I asked of Manco as soon as, having got beyond range of the Spaniards’ muskets, we came to a halt.

“Proscribed and hunted, we must henceforth, like beasts of prey, seek for safety in the caves and recesses of the mountains,” he answered gloomily.

“You say well we must settle what is to be done. There is a cavern high up the mountains some way from this, where some hundred men may take shelter. Few know of it, and if any traitors were to lead the Spaniards to it, they would find it cost them dear to attack us there. I will show the way. On, on, my friends, on!”

I saw that the chief was in no mood for conversation. That day all his brightest hopes had faded away for ever. The liberty of Peru was lost; his friends had been slaughtered round him; and his Inca was a prisoner in the hands of his bitterest foes. We pushed on as fast as the rugged nature of the country would allow us to move; crossing valleys and streams, and climbing mountains, till we arrived at the foot of a lofty and perfectly perpendicular precipice, along the foot of which we moved for some distance. As I looked up, I saw that stones hurled from the summit would completely have annihilated us. Almost at right angles from the cliff arose another hill, up which we now began to climb. On reaching the summit, we turned once more in the direction of the cliffs, which we found were connected with the hill by a natural bridge of rock thrown across a dark and frightful gorge. Ordering the horses to be turned adrift on the hill, Manco, with his child in his arms, led the way across the bridge, and along a narrow ledge, which now appeared as if cut by natural labour in the side of the cliff. I kept close to him to assist him if required; Ned followed, supporting Nita; Pedro, leading Don Gomez, went next; and the Indians in single file after us. A couple of hundred yards along a ledge, where a single false step would have proved certain death, brought us to a hollow in the face of the rock, entering which, we found ourselves in a cavern of very extensive dimensions.

The ground was perfectly level, and the roof dry; and from the appearance I judged that art had been employed to render it habitable. Near the mouth were several pieces of wood which served for torches; and fire being produced by some of the Indians, the cavern was soon sufficiently lit up to show us its extent. On one side, a fountain of pure water spouted from the rock; on the other, a quantity of wood was piled up; and in some oven-shaped buildings, I found was stored a quantity of corn.

It is impossible to conceive a place more impregnable by nature. The summit of the cliffs, I afterwards found, was perfectly inaccessible; while below they extended in a perpendicular wall to a depth of four hundred feet at least. In front the valley widened out to a considerable extent, the opposite cliff being also almost inaccessible, so that the only possible approach was by the narrow ledge along which we had come. Indeed it seemed capable of holding out against any besiegers, as long as the provisions within might last.

As soon as we entered, Ned placed Nita on the ground, and Manco, faint with loss of blood, as well as with fatigue and agitation, sunk down by her side. Taking the infant from him, she handed it to Ned, whose honest countenance had won her confidence. She then placed her husband’s head in her lap, and bent over him in silence, expressing her grief neither in tears nor cries.

“Come, don’t be cast down, Missus,” said Ned, his kind heart moved by her sorrow. “Better times may come, and your good man isn’t going to slip his cable, I hope. I say, mate, she don’t understand my lingo,” he continued, turning to me; “just you tell her what I say. It’ll cheer her up a bit.”

I saw that words could bring no comfort to the poor creature, but that our attention might be more effectually employed in binding up Manco’s wounds. Telling Ned this, we set to work in as scientific a way as we were able. Some of the Indians brought us water, and Nita, when she saw what we were about, aroused herself to help us. We had scarcely finished the operation, when a cry from Pedro called us to the assistance of Don Gomez, who had likewise fainted from the pain of his wound and loss of blood. My attention had, indeed, been so completely occupied with my Indian friend, that I had forgotten that the Spaniard had been hurt. Pedro was kneeling by his side, and supporting him with a look of interest and anxiety, which I at first was at a loss to understand.

“O come, my friend, come and help him, or he will die!” he exclaimed.

Ned, who had seen many a gun-shot wound, and had often assisted the surgeons to doctor his shipmates, examined the Spaniard’s hurts.

“It’s a bad job, mate, I’m afraid,” he observed, pointing to his side. “The ball is in him somewhere, for there’s the place it entered, and I can find no hole where it could have got out again. I’ve been feeling for it all round his back, but there’s no sign of it. How he came on so far as this without dropping, I don’t know. It was his spirit kept him up, I suppose.”

Finding that we could do nothing else to relieve the unfortunate Don Gomez, we washed and bound up his wound, and then laid him on a bed of some straw and skins, which we found in the cavern. The same care had been taken of Manco. The Indians, meantime, had lighted a fire in the mouth of the cavern, and were seated round it in moody silence, brooding over their defeat and the death of many of their comrades and friends. We found some brandy among the stores, and after Don Gomez had swallowed a little of it, which we gave him with some water, he revived, and beckoned Pedro to him.

“You were telling me, as we came along, a strange tale of your life, young man,” he said, in a feeble voice. “It served to sustain me, when otherwise I should have sunk with pain. Can I believe you?”

“Indeed, Señor, I have only told the truth,” replied Pedro. “I was found by the Indians, when an infant, alone in a wood. My complexion shows that I am Spanish; and see, the crucifix and chain which were around my neck when I was discovered, I have ever since worn.”

“Merciful Providence, what do I behold?” exclaimed the wounded man, starting up and gazing eagerly at the ornament Pedro exhibited. “It is—it is! Come to my arms, my son, my son! I have found you, alas! but to quit you too soon again.”

Pedro had thrown himself upon his father’s neck, for such there could be no doubt Don Gomez was.

“Oh, do not say so, my father, whom I have so long sought. Do not say that you must quit me!” he cried, in an agony of tears.

“Alas! it is the climax of my destiny,” answered the Spaniard. “I have longed to discover you, and now that my wishes are fulfilled, death claims me as his own. Such has been my fate through life. I cannot even leave you the wealth I have amassed, for of that also I have been deprived.”

“O do not think of that!” exclaimed Pedro. “It is sufficient for me to know that you are my father; and do but recover and I will learn to work for you and support you. Say that you will not die, and I shall be happy.”

I need not further describe the scene. Pedro sat by his father’s side, and deep and earnest was their conversation. Ned and I left them alone and joined the Indians at their fire, for we saw that we could render no further assistance to our patients. The Indians had brought food with them, and as there was a supply of maize and dried meat and cocoa in the cavern, we had no reason to complain of hunger.

Manco had given orders that one of the Indians should at all times be stationed at the bridge I spoke of, leading to the ledge, to give notice of danger; and they regularly relieved each other at the post, though few would have ventured to cross that rocky ledge even in broad daylight, much less at night, uncertain what reception they might meet with at its termination. The night passed slowly, though I managed at intervals, as did Ned, to obtain some sleep. I after a time got up and stood at the mouth of the cave, looking up at the dark sky studded with thousands of stars, and then glancing down into the obscure depths below my feet. The air was perfectly still, and I fancied that I could hear the roar of cannon and the rattle of musketry echoing among the mountains.

At length I perceived a ruddy glare extending over the sky. I thought at first that it must be a sign of the rising sun, but, as I watched, it grew brighter and brighter, but did not increase in extent, and then by degrees it faded away before the genial glow of the coming day appeared. I guessed, too truly, that it arose from the burning of the village, which the Spaniards had attacked. I did not, however, inform my companions, for I felt that I should only add to their grief by so doing. The Indians continued sleeping till a late hour. They seemed to have the power of thus steeping their misery in oblivion. A night’s rest had somewhat restored Manco, but he was evidently fretting at the thought of the inactivity to which his wound would consign him. “But what would you do if you were able to move about,” I asked. “The Inca is a prisoner, and will, I fear, suffer death, for you cannot hope to rescue him.”

“The Inca never dies,” he answered, lifting himself up on his arm, and looking me earnestly in the face. “The young Andres is still in arms in the south, and may yet be victorious. Should the Spaniards add a deeper dye to the crimes they have committed, by the destruction of the Inca, he will succeed; and should he too be cut off, I and that infant sleeping by my side must succeed to the title. Little did the Spanish soldiers dream whom they were yesterday pursuing, when Nita fled from them with our babe in her arms.”

Hope still I saw supported my friend, and I would not deprive him of it, little as I entertained it myself. Don Gomez had not improved. He was feverish and weak, and I fancied that I saw death on his countenance; but he was happy at having his son by his side, and I was unwilling to warn Pedro of his danger. Several days passed away without the appearance of an enemy in the neighbourhood; and at length the Indians began to grow uneasy at confinement. We also were anxious to obtain information as to the state of affairs. It was just possible that, as Manco hoped, the Spaniards might have been driven back. And that we were shutting ourselves up for no object. The difficulty was to decide who was the most proper person to go in search of information. An Indian would, to a certainty, have been kept prisoner and publicly executed; Pedro could not leave his father; and when I proposed going, Ned declared that I should be either recognised as having escaped from prison, or treated as a spy.

“For my part I don’t mind going myself,” he observed. “I’ve no fancy for being cooped up here any longer; and if I’m asked any questions, all I shall say is, that I’ve got away from the Injuns, and want to get back to my own country.”

Very unwillingly I at last yielded to all the arguments he used to let him go instead of me. I was also afraid that it might have been suspected that he had assisted us to escape from prison; but he overruled that objection by saying that it was a very long time ago, and that it was not likely any of those who had seen him should be at Cuzco, or remember the circumstance. To prevent the risk of his falling into the hands of any Indians, Manco ordered one of those with us to accompany him to the neighbourhood of the capital, where he was to be hid till his return, and then to bring him back safe. It was with a heavy heart that I saw Ned set out. Still I was very anxious to commence our journey eastward, and without knowing the state of affairs, I could not quit my friend Manco, nor could we venture to move Don Gomez into the city. I watched Ned as he passed under the cliff, and saw him wave his hat as a sign that he, at all events, feared none of the dangers of his expedition.

Meantime the Indians ventured out a short distance across the mountains to hunt for game. Several of them were always stationed on the surrounding pinnacles of rocks, whence they could watch for the approach of danger. Now and then they killed with their arrows a tarush, an active and timid little roe which frequents the higher forests which skirt the Andes. At night they used to set snares made of horse hair, at the mouths of holes inhabited by little animals like rabbits. These were called viscachas and chinchillas. The skin of the latter supplies the beautiful fur so much prized in Europe. Their colour and form resembles the rabbit, but they have shorter ears and long, rough tails. As, however, we had an abundant supply of charqui, which is the name given to dried beef in the Andes, we were not dependent on the success of our huntsmen for food. Pedro employed all his time in reading to and conversing with his father; and I observed that a very satisfactory change had taken place with regard to his state of mind. He had now learned to bow to the decrees of Providence without repining, and to acknowledge that whatever the great Ruler of the universe orders, is for the good of His creatures. The event I had foreseen was fast approaching. Every day Don Gomez had grown weaker and weaker, and he could no longer raise himself on his bed of straw. One evening he called Manco and me to his side after he had made Pedro aware that his speedy death was inevitable. “You have both been friends of my son,” he said. “Most deeply do I thank you, though I have no means of showing my gratitude; indeed, I must call on you still further to befriend him. I found him poor, and may leave him so, unless the power of Spain is re-established in Peru. In either case, you can serve him. In the one, still support and protect him; and in the other, witness that I have acknowledged him as my son, and enable him to regain the property which was mine. There is a certain Father Manuel in Cuzco, who knows my signature, and is cognisant of all the particulars of my history. Let him see the papers I have left, should he have escaped the death which has overtaken so many of my countrymen, and he will assist him to the utmost of his means in his object. May Heaven help him to obtain what by right is his!”

We promised the dying man to obey his wishes to the best of our ability, though, as we could not venture to present ourselves in any city of Peru as witnesses, I had very little expectation that Pedro would ever recover his property. That night Don Gomez breathed his last. I will not speak of the bitter anguish poor Pedro suffered, at the death of a parent so lately found and so soon lost. The Indians made a grave in a green mound on the neighbouring mountain; and there we buried the unfortunate man.

Several days more passed away; and at last one of our scouts came hurrying in, to give notice that he had seen some persons approaching along the valley, in the far distance. On the edge of the ledge, and at the mouth of the cavern, stones had been piled up, to hurl down on the heads of any who might appear in the guise of enemies. I looked eagerly out, for I hoped they might prove to be Ned and his guide; for I had begun to be very anxious for my friend’s safety. As the persons drew near, to my great satisfaction, I recognised Ned and his guide. They appeared footsore and weary, and came on very slowly. I went out to meet him at the bridge.

“I can’t say a word, mate, till I’ve had some food and rest,” he answered. “And this poor fellow here, he’s worse off than I am.”

After Ned and the Indian had eaten, they lay down to sleep, and it was four hours before the former awoke and gave me an account of his adventures, which I translated to Manco and Pedro.

“Well, mates,” he began, “I’m glad to get back with a whole skin on my body; and never may I have to see again the sights I’ve witnessed since I’ve left this place. The sooner, for my part, we get out of the country, the better. It was all very well when we had to climb up and down the mountains; I didn’t mind that; but as soon as we got down into the plains, we couldn’t go a hundred yards without meeting with the dead bodies of our fellow-creatures—Red-skin or White-skin, it’s all the same to me. I can’t bear to see men, women, and young children murdered like sheep and lambs. The Spaniards had cleared out and burnt every Indian village on the road. We had to pass near the place where the battle was fought, and there were thousands and thousands of bodies of Indians. The birds and beasts of prey could scarcely consume them. At last we got near the city, and my Red-skin mate there stowed himself away under a rock in a thick wood; and taking the bearings of the place, I went on by myself. I met no one till I got to the walls, for the Dons still kept inside, afraid of the Injuns, though they’d killed so many of them. When the guards at the gates asked me what I wanted, I said I’d come from the mountains, where I’d been hiding away during the row, and that I was looking out for a night’s rest in a civilised place, before I set out back to my own country; which was true enough, you know. They then took me to the governor of the city, and he questioned me right and left; but I stuck to my story. So when he found he could get nothing out of me, he let me go, telling me to come and see him in a couple of days or so. I found there were to be great doings the next day, and what do you think they were? Why, these Christians were going to burn the Inca and his whole family, because they tried to get back their rights. It wasn’t a sight I wished to see, you may depend on it; but I couldn’t help myself. Well, in the morning there was a large crowd in the great square; and in the middle there was a quantity of stakes and wood piled up, and near them a high platform. Presently a number of Indian people were brought out of the prison—men, women, and children—and were marched up to the stakes, and bound to them with cords. Last of all came a man, whom I soon saw was the Inca, for he was dressed as he was on the day of the battle, and looked a real king, every inch of him. They made him stand up on the platform, and look down on what was going on below.

“They first shot all the children, and then they set fire to the wood, and burnt the women, and then the men; and, would you believe it, among them was the wife of the Inca, and his children, and his brothers, and nephews and nieces. He didn’t utter a cry or a groan, but kept looking on as if his eyes would start out of his head; but they, poor creatures, shrieked out for mercy from men who hadn’t got any in their natures.

“When the rest were dead, they put some faggots under the platform, and burnt the brave fellow where he stood. The people shouted and rejoiced as if they had done something to be proud of. I couldn’t stand it any longer, so I hurried away from the place; for I heard that all the Indian prisoners in the city were next to be shot, and that there were some hundreds of them. I got into talk with a number of people. From some I heard one thing, and from some another; but what I made out was, that young Andres, the Inca’s son, with several other chiefs, were still in arms in the south; but that the Spaniards had sent for troops from all parts of America; and that, by fair means or foul, they were resolved to destroy every Indian, till the war was finished. When I found that I could learn nothing more, I waited till night, and climbed over the walls. I then ran on as fast as my legs could carry me, till I got back to the wood, where I found my guide. Thinking I might be pursued, as I have no doubt I was, we made a very roundabout course, and kept a bright look-out for enemies on every side. We managed to keep clear of them, however, but were very hard up for food; and I’m not sorry, let me tell you, mate, to find myself safe back again here.”

Such was the substance of Ned’s account. Prepared, as in a great degree Manco had been, he was dreadfully affected by it, and for some time could come to no resolution what course to take. Had he been alone, he would at once have decided to join Andres, and endeavour still to make head against the Spaniards; but Nita and his child were in the other scale. At last he announced his resolution of quitting that part of Peru, and taking refuge far beyond the borders of civilisation among some of the wild tribes of the interior, in regions where the foot of the white man had not yet penetrated.

“There I will remain,” he said, “till a more favourable opportunity occurs for rescuing my country from the oppression of the stranger. Be assured that time will come. My boy may have grown to manhood, and my hair may have turned grey, or we may both have passed away; but Spain cannot for ever keep her iron yoke on the necks of our people. In the meantime we shall have collected arms, and have learned the art of war from our conquerors; and avoiding the errors which have now overcome us, we shall be able to cope with them successfully.”

He promised, moreover, to accompany us till we should be fairly embarked on the great river of the south. I then asked Pedro what he proposed doing.

“I will go with you, my friend,” he answered at once. “I have no hopes of obtaining my father’s property, and I cannot quit you; I will share your dangers, and accompany you to your native land.”

I rather doubted whether it would not be wiser for him to try and reach Cuzco, and put himself in communication with the Father Manuel, to whom his father had referred him; but he adhered to his resolution of accompanying me.

“I have no friends among my countrymen; I care not for wealth; and I long to obtain that knowledge which here I cannot hope to find. I wish also to see the world, and more than all, David, I would not be parted from you.”

So it was arranged; and Manco having sent out the Indians as scouts in all directions to ascertain whether any Spaniards were in the neighbourhood, we made instant preparations for our departure.

Chapter Nineteen.

Our wonderful adventures and escapes.

During our long stay in the cave, my mind often turned to the future, and I was sorely puzzled to know by what means, without funds of any sort, we should find our way to England. Ned, as a sailor, would have no difficulty; but Pedro and I, from our ignorance of nautical affairs, would be totally unable to work our way. One day Manco asked me what I was thinking about. I told him.

“Let not that distress you, my friend,” he answered. “If gold could restore happiness to our country, I could fill this cavern with it. I will show you where you may supply yourself with all you can require; you will spend it well, and therefore I do not hesitate to confide to you the secret of our hidden wealth.”

Two nights after this, as I was about to throw myself on my bed of leaves to sleep, Manco came to me.

“We will at once set forth to obtain the gold I promised,” he said. “Pedro and your countryman may accompany us to carry what we find. We must return before the morning, lest we encounter any of the Spanish forces, who are ravaging the country on every side.”

A few words served to let Pedro and Ned understand what was to be done, and providing themselves with two bags, they instantly declared themselves ready to proceed. Manco had provided torches, one of which we each of us bore; but he told us not to light them till we should reach the spot to which he was about to conduct us. As we were setting out, he also distributed among us two spades and crowbars, and a pickaxe. He led the way along the ledge and across the bridge; we following in silence. He then descended the mountain, and proceeded down the valley for some distance, when he once more began to ascend. The ground was rugged and difficult in the extreme, and path there was none, so that, had we desired it, we could not again have found our way. For two hours we toiled on, up and down hill, following close upon the heels of Manco, who seemed to know the road by instinct. At length we reached a valley, the hill on one side of which was covered completely with buildings, one rising above the other, and some apparently hewn out of the solid rock. The moon, which had lately risen, lighted up the scene, and increased its wild and mysterious appearance. Not a sound was heard, not a human being appeared from this city of the dead. Manco stopped and gazed up at the city.

“Two centuries ago, thousands of human beings, full of life and activity, thronged those walls,” he remarked. “All are gone, and of descendants they have left none. All, all have been victims to Spanish cruelty. Follow me.”

He moved on, and led us into several. Some had two and even three stories, and the floors of slabs of stone or slate still remained. We at last reached a house larger than the rest, with a number of windows. Manco stopped in the centre of the chief hall, and said, stamping his foot, “Dig there.” Lighting our torches, we stuck them in the ground, and set to work. After digging about two feet, we came to a mass which proved to be the body of a human being, swaddled up in bandages of cloth, and in good preservation. It was in a sitting posture, with the knees drawn up to the chin. Placing it on one side, we dug on. Clearing away another stratum of earth, we reached a collection of household utensils, which at first I thought were of copper and clay; but as Ned was examining them, he exclaimed—

“They are gold, every one of them!”

“Dig, dig,” said Manco; “you have more to find.” A third layer of earth was now removed, and we came upon a number of idols, all of gold or silver, and surrounding them a quantity of bars of pure gold. None of us had ever seen so much wealth in one mass. “There, take what you can carry, and cover up the rest,” exclaimed Manco. “You call that wealth,” he continued, as if divining our thoughts; “yet of what use is it to mankind thus locked up from sight? Now hasten, or daylight will surprise us before we can reach the cave.”

Following his direction, we loaded ourselves with as much of the pure gold as we could carry; and then replacing the body as we found it, we again covered up the grave. Then extinguishing our torches, we set out to return to our cavern, which we reached in safety. It was with very great satisfaction that I bade adieu to the cavern which had for so long a time been our home. We had three horses, on one of which Nita was mounted, and the other two were loaded with a supply of provisions; each of the Indians, besides, carrying enough for his own wants, till a part of the country should be reached where more could be procured. Manco took every precaution for our safety which prudence could suggest. He sent the Indians on ahead as scouts to inspect the country before we advanced, and to bring us timely notice of the approach of an enemy. At that time it was difficult to know who were friends and who were not, for many of the Indians had gone over to the Spaniards, in the hopes of saving their lives and property; and others, still worse, we had too good reason to know, were ready to act the part of traitors, and to deliver up their countrymen for the sake of the reward they expected to receive.

We proceeded for some way along a series of wooded ridges, called by the Spaniards Ceja de la Montaña (the Mists of the Mountains), on account of the thick mists which, rising from the rivers in the valleys below, are attracted by the trees, and hang over them in dense clouds. In summer these mists are absorbed by the sun’s rays; but in winter they discharge themselves in endless torrents of rain. At night we took up our abode in some deserted hut; but never, if we could avoid it, did we rest in the abode of man, and whenever we did, Manco kept three or four of our allies watching at a distance outside; and we always again started at early dawn. As we reached the extreme eastern edge of the Ceja, we looked down on an interminable extent of forest, composed of trees of a height with which few in other parts of the world can vie. These wooded plains are called Montañas, which is the name given to the whole of the country eastward of the Andes.

As we advanced, our ears were saluted by the cries of numerous birds and animals. Sometimes I thought I heard the roaring of a bull at a distance, when I found it to proceed from the black ox-bird; and at others the grunting of a hog sounded close to us; and a beautiful bird called the Tunqui, like a cock with a tuft of red feathers, and an orange bill, started up and astonished us with the contrast between his gruff note and gay plumage. In the evenings, groups of the pheasant-like Hachahuallpa summoned their distant companions with the cry of Ven acá, ven acá—Come here, come here; and owls and bats flew out with noiseless wings to pounce on their unwary prey. Bears and ounces, pumas and tiger-cats crossed our path; and stags started from their thickets, where they had sought shelter from some of those above-named enemies. Monkeys chattered at us, and squirrels leaped among the trees; rats and mice were found in the huts, and argutis in the maize-fields; snakes crawled along the ground, and birds of prey circled high above our heads. But in truth it would be impossible to describe one-tenth of the beasts, the birds, and reptiles we encountered in our journey; though I shall mention those I had opportunities of examining.

We approached one evening the farm of a cacique, who, with most of the men of his village, had marched to join the army of Tupac Amaru. The women only, and some of the old men and children, remained. It was on the extreme borders of the country inhabited by Christian Indians. Beyond all was totally unknown to the white men, and but seldom visited by the civilised natives.

Manco sent on a messenger to give notice of our approach, and to crave the hospitality of the cacique and his family. He returned shortly, saying that the females only were at home, and that as yet they had received no account of the result of the expedition; but that they bade the strangers welcome.

“Alas!” said Manco, “we are, I fear, the bearers of evil tidings. Had the cacique escaped, he would have returned ere this.”

We proceeded on, and in a space cleared of trees, we found a collection of low buildings. The walls were constructed of reeds, the interstices being filled up with loam; and the roofs were covered with palm leaves. On one side of the house was a coffee plantation, and on the other some fields of maize, with fruit-trees growing round them. At a little distance, on some marshy ground, was a field of sugar-canes; and by the side of a brook a row of the useful banana. The poor woman came out to receive us as we approached. Her first inquiries were for her husband. Manco had seen him and all his people cut to pieces. She did not faint or shriek out, but retired into an inner room, sat herself down on the ground, surrounded by her women, and groaned bitterly all the night long. We did not see her again; but after a time one of her females came out and set food before us. Our Indian companions found shelter in some of the huts of the village; and one belonging to the farm was given up to Ned, Pedro, and me. We had Indian corn bread, and cakes made of the juice of the sugar-cane, called chancacas; potatoes, bananas, oranges, and pine-apples, and several varieties of dried meat; with a liquor also made from the sugar-cane, called guarapo: indeed we had no cause to complain of any want of provisions. As we were safe here from all risk of pursuit, Manco proposed to remain for some days, that we might recruit our strength before prosecuting our journey.

The cacique had been accustomed to increase his wealth by buying from the wilder tribes the celebrated Peruvian bark. In the month of May, a number of Indians set out together, some of whom, of greatest experience, who are called cateadores, or searchers, climb the highest trees to spy out the manchas, or spots where the chinchona groups are growing, distinguishing them merely by a slight difference in the tints from the dark-green of the surrounding foliage. When the cateador has discovered a group, he leads his companions to it with wonderful precision through the almost impenetrable forest; a hut is built, the trees are felled, and incisions are made in the bark, and after a few days, as it dries, it is stripped off and placed in the huts to dry still more. It is then packed in bundles, and sent to market.