The unhappy man saw that indeed there was no hope for him, but still he clung to life. He dared not die. At that moment all his deeds of cruelty, all his tyranny, came crowding to his memory in a light they had never before worn. Of what use now was to him the wealth he had thus unjustly acquired? Oh! if men would at all times and seasons remember that they must one day die, and give an account of their deeds on earth, would it not restrain them from committing acts of injustice and wrong? The _corregidor_ attempted to enumerate his misdeeds. They were too many for him to recollect.
"I have offended--I have miserably offended!" he exclaimed in his agony.
"G.o.d is full of mercy. He rejoices in pardoning the repentant sinner,"
answered the padre.
But his words brought no hope to a doubting mind. He felt that his crimes were too great for pardon; though till that moment he had not considered them as crimes.
The priest then proceeded to administer to him the last sacrament of the Roman Catholic Church. He had scarcely concluded, when the Indians, who had stood around in reverential silence, raised a loud clamour for the instant execution of the culprit; but Padre Diogo was a brave man.
"My children," he cried, "you have already committed a great sin in murdering the innocents who this night have fallen by your hands. Their blood will cry to Heaven for vengeance. Preserve this man"s life, repent, and pray for mercy."
A _cacique_ now stepped forward from among the crowd.
"Senor Padre," he said, "we listen to your words with reverence, for you are a priest, and have ever proved our friend; but this man was placed in authority over us, and most cruelly did he abuse that authority. He has been tried and found guilty. As his ancestors murdered our last Inca, the great Atahualpa, so he must die. He has but one minute more to live. We have already shown him more mercy than he deserves."
The tone, as much as the words of the speaker, convinced the padre that his penitent must die. To the last he stood by his side, whispering such words of consolation as he could offer. Several Indians, appointed as executioners, advanced; and in an instant the miserable man was hurried into eternity.
"For this man"s death, the vengeance of his countrymen will fall terribly on your heads, my children," exclaimed the padre; for the proud spirit of the Spaniard was aroused within his bosom, and he did not fear what they might do to him. Too truly were his words afterwards verified. No one seemed to heed what he said; and he was led away from the spot by a party of Indians, in whose charge he was given by the chief Tupac Amaru. To his horror, he found that every man, woman, and child among the white inhabitants of the village had fallen victims to the exasperated fury of the Indians.
This account was given me some time afterwards by Padre Diogo himself; though I thought the present a proper opportunity of introducing it.
I will now return to my own narrative. I rapidly recovered my strength, and in a few more days was able to leave the hut and walk about without a.s.sistance; but my anxiety for the fate of my family was in no way relieved; and though Manco made all the inquiries in his power, he could afford me no consolation. I was sitting one evening in front of the hut, meditating what course to pursue, when Manco came and threw himself on the ground by my side. He took my hand and looked kindly in my face; but I saw that his countenance wore an expression of deep melancholy.
With a trembling voice I asked him what news he had to communicate.
"Bad news, bad news, my young friend," he said; and then stopped, as if afraid of proceeding.
"Of my parents?" I inquired, for I could not bear the agony of suspense. "Speak, Manco; has Ithulpo not arrived?"
"Alas! no," he answered, sorrowfully shaking his head. "I have too certain evidence of Ithulpo"s death; and, faithful as he was, he would never have deserted your parents. His body has been discovered near a village which has been attacked and burned by my countrymen. There can be no doubt that they had taken refuge within it. Alas that I should say it, who have received such benefits from them! The Indians put to the sword every inhabitant they found there, and among them your parents must have perished."
At first I was stunned with what he said, though I could not bring myself to believe the horrid tale.
"I will go in search of them," I at length exclaimed. "I will find them if they are alive; or I must see their bodies, if, as you say, they have been murdered, before I can believe you. The Indians, whom they always loved and pitied, could not have been guilty of such barbarity. If your countrymen have murdered their benefactors, I tell you that they are miserable worthless wretches; and the Spaniards will be justified in sweeping them from the face of the earth."
As I gave utterance to these exclamations, I felt my spirit maddening within me. I cared not what I said; I felt no fear for the consequences. At first, after I had spoken, a cloud came over Manco"s brow; but it quickly cleared away, and he regarded me with looks of deep commiseration.
"Should I not feel as he does, if all those I loved best on earth had been slaughtered?" he muttered to himself. "I feel for you, my friend, and most deeply grieve," he said aloud, taking my hand, which I had withdrawn, and watering it with his tears. "Yet you are unjust in thus speaking of my people. They did not kill your parents knowingly. The sin rests with the Spaniards, whom they desired to punish; and the innocent have perished with the guilty. Sure I am that not an Indian would have injured them; and had they been able to come into our camp, they would have been received with honour and reverence."
I hung down my head, and my bursting heart at length found relief in tears. I was still very weak, or I believe that my feelings would have a.s.sumed a fiercer character.
"I have been unjust to you, Manco," I said, when I could once more give utterance to my thoughts. "I will try not to blame your countrymen for your sake; but I must leave you, to discover whether your dreadful report is true or false."
He took my hand again, and pressed it within his own. It was night before I was tolerably composed; and as I threw myself on my couch within the hut, I wept bitterly as a child, till sleep came to relieve my misery. I must not dwell on the anguish I felt on waking--the utter wretchedness of the next day. I was too ill to move, though I prayed for strength to enable me to prosecute my search. Strength and health came again at last; and in four days after I had heard the account given by Manco, I insisted that I was able to undergo the fatigue to which I must be exposed. Nothing that Manco or his wife could say had power to deter me.
"You will be taken by the cruel Spaniards, and executed as a spy," said Nita, the tears dropping from her eyes as she spoke.
"No Indian on whom you can rely will be able to accompany you, and you cannot find your way alone," observed Manco. "Besides, in these unhappy times robbers and desperadoes of every sort are ranging through the country; and if you escape other dangers, they will murder you."
"My kind friends," I answered, taking both their hands, "I feel your regard for me; but I fear neither Spaniards nor Indians, nor robbers nor wild beasts, nor deserts nor storms, nor heat nor cold, nor hunger nor thirst. I have a holy duty to perform, and I should be unworthy of the name I bear if I shrunk from encountering the danger which may be before me."
"If go you must, and I see that there is no use in attempting to dissuade you, I will give you every a.s.sistance in my power," said Manco.
And thus it was arranged that I was to set out on my perilous undertaking the next day but one, by which time he would be able to accompany me to the foot of the mountains, though he would not be absent long from his important duty in the patriots" army.
CHAPTER TEN.
MY WANDERINGS WITH MANCO--HOW A PADRE TOLD HIS BEADS, BUT HIS BEADS TOLD HIM NOTHING.
The morning I was to set out arrived at last, and I bid farewell to Nita and her little infant, which I kissed over and over again for its mother"s sake; for my heart was full of grat.i.tude for her kindness and compa.s.sion. Manco had procured a mule for me--a small but strong animal, with great sagacity. It was very sure-footed, and could climb up the most rugged rocks, and slip down mountain precipices like a goat.
It was of the greatest value to me; for, weak as I was, I could not possibly have walked a mile of my journey. We had to descend some way, and then to travel along the side of the mountain range, in order to gain the road which led across the Cordilleras. I speak of the path as a road; but in many spots it was so narrow and difficult that I thought it would be impossible for any mule to get along. Here and there large blocks of stone had been placed, with the intention of facilitating the ascent. My mule sprung up them with such violent jerks that I was at first almost thrown over his head; but when we had to descend, he picked his way with great caution. Manco went before me with a long pole in his hand, ready to a.s.sist me if I required it.
After proceeding some way, I observed a large valley spread out at our feet. It was full of people and numerous tents and huts. Manco pointed to it with an expression of pride in his countenance.
"There," said he, "you see the headquarters of the army which is to liberate our country from the power of the conqueror. The Inca Tupac Amaru himself, and his two young and n.o.ble sons, are there. In a few days the whole army will be a.s.sembled, when we march upon Cuzco, once more to reinstate our sovereign in the capital of his ancestors."
Manco"s dark eyes flashed proudly as he spoke; for after the recent success of the Indian arms he had no doubt of victory. I thought differently. Hitherto the Indians had fought among mountains, where discipline was of little avail, and their bows and slings could send their missiles with effect; or they had attacked unfortified and unprepared villages; but in the neighbourhood of Cuzco they would be in an open valley, where the cavalry and artillery of the Spaniards could be brought into play, and I trembled for the consequences. I was unwilling to damp Manco"s ardour; but I endeavoured to point out the dangers I foresaw, and urged him to persuade the chiefs not to be over-confident.
We kept along the ridge of the height forming the side of the valley without descending, and I was thus able to obtain a full view of the Indian army. I was surprised not only at the vast number of people collected, but at the apparent order which prevailed, and at the great state which the Inca and his chief officers maintained. In the centre of the camp, amid a number of banners fluttering in the breeze, was erected a large canopy of gay-coloured cloth, beneath which was a throne, richly ornamented with gold and silver. A flight of steps led to it, along which were ranged a body of guards armed with battle-axes and spears. The Inca sat on his throne, dressed in the ancient costume of his ancestors, which I have before described; and officers of various ranks kept continually coming up to receive orders. As they approached, they bowed reverentially before him, and knelt at his feet while he addressed them. I could scarcely believe that what I saw was a reality, and that I was not dreaming of the accounts I had read of the early history of the country. It did not then occur to me that much valuable time was thus lost to the Indian cause in idle ceremony; and that Tupac Amaru would have had a better chance of success had he at once swept the country from north to south with his forces, before the Spaniards had recovered from their terror and dismay at their first defeat.
After stopping for a few minutes to gaze at the novel and interesting scene, we turned up a path through a ravine, and were quickly again in the solitude of the mountains. We travelled upwards for three days, sleeping at nights at the huts of Indians, where we received a warm welcome from their wives, but the men were in all cases absent. We were now crossing the Puna heights, as the table-lands on the upper part of the Cordilleras are called. We were some fourteen thousand feet above the level of the sea. On either side arose the lofty summits of the Cordilleras, covered with the ice of centuries. Before us stretched out to a great extent the level heights, covered with the dull yellow Puna gra.s.s, blending its tint with the greenish hue of the glaciers. It was truly a wild and desolate scene. Herds of vicunas approached to gaze with wonder at us, and then turning affrighted, fled away with the swiftness of the wind. The Puna stag, with stately step, advanced from his lair in the recesses of the mountains, and gazed on us with his large wondering eyes. Farther off were groups of huancas, looking cautiously at us as we pa.s.sed, while the rock-rabbits disported nimbly around us. I begged Manco not to shoot them, for we did not require food, and I never liked killing an animal for sport.
The mountain air and exercise had completely restored my strength, when on a sudden an indescribable oppression overcame me. My heart throbbed audibly, and my breathing became short and interrupted, while a weight as if of lead lay on my chest. My lips swelled and burst, blood flowed from my eyelids, and I began to lose my senses. I should have fallen from my mule had not Manco lifted me off. A grey mist floated before my eyes, and I could neither see, hear, nor feel distinctly. Manco sat down, and took my head in his lap; when after a time I began to recover, and I saw that he was anxiously looking at a dense ma.s.s of clouds gathering above us.
"Up, up, my friend, and mount if you value your life!" he said. "You are better now. A storm is about to burst, and we must face it boldly."
Scarcely had he spoken, when, loud peals of thunder were heard, and lightning darted from the skies. Down, too, came the snow in flakes, so heavy that it was impossible to see many yards before us.
"We must push on," observed Manco. "We have lost much time already, and night will overtake us before we can reach the nearest village." The snow, however, fell faster, and completely concealed all signs of the path. "When the snow-storm has ceased, I shall easily find the way by the flight of the birds we are certain to see," he continued. "So, fear not. You are suffering from the keen air of the mountains, and you will quickly recover when we begin to descend to lower ground."
Even his sagacity was at fault, and we soon found that we had wandered from the right path. As I did not grow worse, I kept up my spirits.
Two or three hours pa.s.sed away, and the snow ceased. It had scarcely done so, when the clouds opened, and the bright glance of the burning sun burst forth dazzlingly on the white expanse of snow before me. In a moment I felt my eyes stricken with almost total blindness. A cry of horror escaped me. I fancied that I should not recover. Manco tried to console me, a.s.suring me that I was merely suffering from the _surumpe_, a common complaint in those regions.
"I ought to have guarded you against it," he said. "Strangers unaccustomed to the sight of the glittering snow constantly suffer from it; but it will soon pa.s.s away."
I, however, thought differently, though I was unwilling to complain to him. We went on as fast as we could; but the sun set when we were still a long way from the edge of the plain. We had with difficulty avoided several swamps, in which he had told me animals and men were sometimes lost. They are the chief dangers of that region. Fortunately, he recognised a range of lofty rocks near us.
"There is a cavern within them not far off, where we must rest for the night," he said. "We might have a worse lodging, for we shall there, at all events, be sheltered from the snow and wind."
It was now perfectly dark; but after searching for some time, we succeeded in discovering the cavern. While he tethered my male outside, I staggered in, and, overcome with fatigue and the pain I was suffering, sunk upon the ground, a stone which lay near me serving for a pillow. I begged him to let me remain where I was, while he refreshed himself with some of the provisions we had brought with us. We had no means of striking a light: and as he could afford me no a.s.sistance beyond throwing a poncho over me, he did not interfere; but soon afterwards, stretching himself out near me, he fell asleep. Having been on foot all day, he required rest as much as I did. As soon as I fell into a slumber, the smarting pain of the _surumpe_ awoke me, and I was obliged to give up all hope of sleep. How long the night seemed! My thoughts all the time were active, and I need scarcely say that they were fixed on my expedition, and means of accomplishing my object.
It was towards the morning, when a dreadful turn was given to them.
Happening to stretch out my hand, it came in contact with a cold clammy substance. I drew it back, and an indescribable horror crept over me; but influenced by an impulse I could not control, I again put it out towards the object. It rested on the face of a human being. I was certain that I could not be mistaken. I felt the mouth, and nose, and hair; but the features were rigid and immoveable. It was that of a corpse. Const.i.tutionally fearless, under other circ.u.mstances I should have got up and removed myself from the disagreeable neighbourhood, supposing that some unfortunate traveller had like us taken shelter there, and died from cold or hunger; but weak with mental and bodily suffering, I had now no power over myself, and lay trembling with horror, not even venturing to call out to Manco to break the dreadful spell which was upon me. It is impossible to describe my feelings, or the ideas which took possession of my mind. Whose corpse could it be?
Might there not be others in the cave? I thought, if I could be said to be thinking. At last, I believe I swooned away, for most certainly I did not sleep. An exclamation from Manco aroused me. Daylight was streaming into the cavern, and he was sitting up and gazing towards me.
In another instant he was by my side, and, with careful forethought, was endeavouring to keep my attention fixed on himself, so as to prevent me from seeing the dreadful objects in the inner part of the cavern.
"Manco," I said, "I have had a horrid dream. I fancied that the cavern was full of corpses." As I spoke I really thought I had been dreaming.