held the office of royal carver, and had amassed quite a fortune. He was
just such a vivacious and testy cavalier as Ojeda himself, with whom,
by-the-way, he came near fighting a duel over their respective
boundaries. His reckless and generous disposition was made manifest by
the bountiful dinner he ordered prepared from the stores brought by his
rescuer, at which he proudly exhibited his skill as a carver, by slicing
and disjointing a fowl while held in the air on a fork. His imprudence
was shown by repeated boasts that he would promptly chastise those who
had ventured to question his authority over Antigua, and would take from
them all the gold of which, without his permission, they had possessed
themselves. It belonged to the crown, he said, and to him, and those who
held it must disgorge, even to the last _centavo_, which he would force
them to do immediately on his arrival. Colmenares and his two companions
were disgusted, and their apprehensions were further excited at the
story told them by one Lope de Olano, who had formerly come to Nicuesa's
relief, and had been imprisoned by him on a technical charge of
desertion. "Take warning by my treatment," he said, privately, to the
envoys. "I brought relief to Nicuesa, and rescued him from certain death
when starving on a desert island; but behold my recompense! He repays
me, as you see, with imprisonment and with chains. And such, believe me,
is the gratitude the people of Darien may look for at his hands."
Colmenares continued loyal to his chief, but his companion envoys,
Corral and Albitez, were so impressed by the avaricious disposition
displayed by Nicuesa, that they hastened ahead of the brigantine in
which he embarked, and, arriving at Antigua before him, warned the
inhabitants against receiving the boastful ingrate into their midst. "A
blessed change we shall make," they said, "in summoning this Diego de
Nicuesa to take supreme command. We have called in King Stork with a
vengeance, and he will not rest until he has devoured us. What folly is
it, being our own masters, and in such free condition, to send for a
tyrant to rule over us!"
Their words, indeed, produced a turmoil, and the two parties of Enciso
and Balboa, though opposed to each other, quickly united in opposition
to the landing of Nicuesa. When the man without a government arrived in
the river opposite Antigua, the people sallied forth as if to receive
him, but with loud cries and menaces warned him against disembarking,
and ordered him back to Nombre de Dios. It was a desperate situation for
Nicuesa, who felt, indeed, as if "the heavens were falling on his head."
To be warned away from his own territory was humiliating, but to be sent
back to the isthmus meant death by starvation. He entreated, then, to be
allowed to land, though merely as an equal and companion; failing in
that, he begged the heartless Spaniards to take and imprison him, since,
though he should lose his liberty, his life might be saved thereby. But
the factions were obdurate, and when, in spite of Balboa's warning,
Nicuesa persisted in landing, a band of vagabonds pursued him along the
shore until, by sheer fleetness of foot, he escaped from them and
plunged into the forest.
At sight of this once respected cavalier, who had lost a fortune in his
expedition, and was now reduced to the extremity of flight before a
rabble crew, Balboa's heart misgave him. He had been foremost in
exciting the populace against Nicuesa, but he had not expected such a
tempest of disapproval as to threaten his life, and strove earnestly to
allay it, though in vain. His fellow-alcalde Zamudio was the most
demonstrative against the poor wretch, fearing to lose his position
should he be allowed to assume the government. One of his most zealous
supporters was a burly ruffian named Benitez, who was so vociferous that
Balboa, after repeatedly warning him to desist, suddenly set in motion
the machinery of the law, and, in his capacity of magistrate, ordered
him to receive one hundred lashes on the bare shoulders. This act of
lawful violence cooled the emotions of the mob somewhat, and poor
Nicuesa was allowed to emerge from the forest and seek shelter on his
brigantine. Here he received word from Balboa that his only safety lay
in keeping out of sight aboard the vessel; but the next morning, while
his friend's attention was attracted in another direction, he was lured
on shore by a deputation assuming to have been sent to treat with him,
and hastily cast into a small and unseaworthy vessel, which was set
adrift upon the waters of the gulf. Together with seventeen comrades,
who chose to accompany him on his perilous voyage, Nicuesa was thrust
into the miserable craft, which, with scant provisions and little water,
was sent forth to cross the Caribbean Sea, and was never heard of again.
Nicuesa was thus disposed of the first week in March, 1511. He was never
to return; but a few years later his avengers exacted reparation for
this barbarous deed, and Balboa lost his life partly in consequence.
After ridding themselves of Nicuesa, the Antiguans resolved upon sending
Enciso after him, and under form of the law succeeded in doing so. He
was, however, better equipped for a voyage than his lamented
predecessor, and in the caravel which conveyed him to Santo Domingo and
Spain went also the alcalde Zamudio. He had been prevailed upon by his
partner to take the voyage for the purpose of presenting their cause at
court, and thus, at a single _coup_, the wily Balboa removed an enemy
and a rival from the colony, and was left in sole and absolute command.
IV
BALBOA CAPTURES A PRINCESS
1511
Until the expulsion of Enciso, says a Spanish writer of the century in
which the actions narrated occurred, Balboa might have been considered
as a bold and factious intriguer who, aided by his popularity, aspired
to the first place among his equals, and who endeavored, artfully and
audaciously, to rid himself of all who might, with better title, have
disputed it with him; but as soon as he found himself alone and
unrivalled, he gave himself up solely to the preservation and
improvement of the colony which had fallen into his hands. He then began
to justify his ambition by his services, to raise his mind to a level
with the dignity of his office, and to place himself, in the scale of
public opinion, almost in comparison with Columbus himself.
The removal of the colony from San Sebastian to Darien had been done in
pursuance of his advice, and the wisdom of this act being apparent to
everybody, he was thereby raised above all others in the estimation of
his companions. He was not made giddy by his elevation to supreme power,
but, on the contrary, seemed sobered by it, as though he realized his
responsibilities, and also wished to justify his comrades' confidence in
him. Having been invested with the command, he became a real leader and
actual head of affairs, always first in any toil and danger, and
shrinking from no exposure, whether to the elements or the weapons of
the savages. While frank and affable in common discourse, and ever
accessible to the meanest and most humble colonist, yet he was a strict
disciplinarian with reference to his soldiers, and insisted upon being
treated with the deference due him as governor-general of the colony and
captain of its forces. He fully recognized the necessity for collecting
ample supplies of gold, to be forwarded to King Ferdinand of Spain, in
order to purchase exemption from punishment for his expulsion of Enciso,
a royal official; but he deprived no man of his portion in consequence.
Balboa was probably one of the most generous and high-minded of the
Spanish-American conquerors. While he sometimes treated the Indians with
barbarity, and his exactions bore heavily upon them, yet he was never
unfair to his comrades when it came to a division of spoils. He was
known to have relinquished his own share on more than one occasion, in
order that his followers might not lose their reward for the toils and
dangers of an arduous campaign.
Having united the warring factions among the colonists, and secured the
unswerving loyalty of his soldiers by offering them in himself an
exemplar of soldierly qualities, Balboa turned his attention to
establishing the colony on a basis of thrift and security. He built a
stockaded fort, repaired the dilapidated brigantines, ordered extensive
fields to be cleared for planting with corn, and drilled his soldiers
constantly. No tidings coming from the exiled Nicuesa as the weeks went
by, Balboa despatched vessels for the rescue of whatever survivors might
be discovered at Nombre de Dios and along the intervening coast, thereby
saving several half-starved wretches from death. Among others thus
rescued were two Spaniards who had fled from the severities of Nicuesa
more than a year before, and found refuge with the cacique of a province
called Coyba. They were nearly naked, like the Indians, and their skins
were painted, after the fashion in vogue among the savages; but they
could still speak their native language, and thenceforth served Balboa
as interpreters. They had been kindly treated by Careta, the cacique of
Coyba, who had freely given them shelter, food, and clothing; but their
first thought, when they found themselves safe at Darien, was how they
might betray him and assist their countrymen to obtain his treasures.
Shown into the presence of Captain Balboa, they eagerly offered to lead
him to Coyba, where, they said, he would find an immense booty in gold
as well as vast quantities of provisions.
"And this cacique Careta, you say, treated you well?" he asked.
"As well as he could, being a savage," answered one of the men. "He is
naught but an Indian, half the time going naked, and with manners not of
the best; but such as he had he freely gave us, and saved us both from
death by starvation, most likely."
"And yet," rejoined Balboa, with a curl of his lip, "ye would have me
attack this generous chieftain, lay his town in ashes, perchance kill
him and some of his subjects?"
"We have naught against him," answered the man, evasively; "but, being
possessed of gold, of which he knows not the use, and of provisions,
which ye certainly need in this settlement, it seemed to us our duty to
acquaint you with these things."
"And that was well," exclaimed Balboa, "for of a truth we need both gold
and supplies for our larder, which is low, even near to being exhausted.
As to gold--indeed, as you say, the savage knows not its value, while to
us it is the greatest and best thing in the world. We are already under
ban of the king, most probably, for hastening the departure of the
Bachelor Enciso, and unless I can persuade his majesty, with a golden
argument, of the justice of our doings, it may go hard with me and with
us all. So now, as I say, this news comes most opportunely, and
peradventure it turn out to be true, ye shall not suffer for the
imparting of it. I will myself lead the way, with you as guides, and if
we can accomplish our object without bloodshed, much better will I be
suited than if violence be done."
Balboa was highly elated by the tidings of a golden country not far
distant, and, selecting a hundred and thirty of his best men, embarked
them in two brigantines for the province of Coyba. They were equipped
with the best weapons the colony could supply, and also with utensils
for opening roads into the mountains, as well as with merchandise for
traffic should it seem better to barter with the Indians than attack
them openly.
The swamps and forests adjacent to the colony were occupied by Indians
of different tribes, some more warlike than others, but none of them so
barbarous as the fierce Caribs of the eastern shore of the Uraba Gulf,
who ate their prisoners, gave no quarter in battle, and made use of
poisoned arrows. These terrible weapons, as already remarked, were not
used by the Indians of the western shore, who were far less sanguinary,
though obstinate in battle and even ferocious. They spared the lives of
their captives, and, instead of eating or sacrificing them to their
gods, branded them on the forehead, or knocked out a tooth, as a sign of
servility, and kept them as slaves. Each tribe was governed by a
cacique, or supreme chief, whose title and privileges were
hereditary, and who was permitted to have numerous wives, while the
common warrior had but a single helpmeet, unless he had won unusual
distinction by great bravery in battle. Besides supporting their
caciques, the Darien Indians allowed priests, or magicians, and doctors
to exercise their arts, and they adored a supreme deity, known as
_Tuira_, to whom the milder tribes offered spices, fruits, and flowers,
while the more savage ones poured out blood upon their altars and made
human sacrifices.
[Illustration: VILLAGE ON RIVER OF DARIEN]
The houses of these people were mostly made of poles, or canes, loosely
bound together with vines, and roofed with a thatch composed of grasses
and palm leaves so thickly placed as to turn the tropical rains and
afford a perfect shelter. When these structures were built on solid
ground they were called _bohios_, as in the islands of the West Indies,
and some of them were nearly a hundred feet in length, though not over
twenty or thirty in breadth. The majority, however, were small huts, at
a distance very much resembling hay-stacks, having a single opening
only, as a doorway, and a clay or earthen floor, with a fire usually
burning in the centre, the smoke from which escaped through the roof of
thatch. There was another class of dwellings, either aerial or aquatic,
depending upon whether they were built in trees, for safety from floods
and wild beasts, or above the placid surface of some lake or gulf, and
used as dwellings by fishermen. These were known as _barbacoas_; and it
is worthy of note that we find the same name applied to certain elevated
structures of a similar sort used as corn-cribs by the Indians of
Florida in De Soto's time. Both bohios and barbacoas were subject to
removal or abandonment whenever the game of the neighborhood grew
scarce, the soil unfruitful, or a pestilence decimated the tribe,
following the dictates of danger or necessity.
During the greater part of the year, in that tropical climate, clothing
was rarely necessary for warmth, except at night, and the men and boys
were nearly always naked, though the caciques sometimes wore
breech-cloths, and cotton mantles over their shoulders as badges of
distinction. All males, and especially the warriors, painted their
bodies with ochreous earths, and stained their skin with the juice of
the annotto, while they adorned their heads with plumes of feathers.
Both sexes inserted tinted seashells in their ears and nostrils as
"ornaments," and encircled their wrists and ankles with bracelets of
native gold. The women, after reaching the marriageable age, wore cotton
skirts from waist to knee, and broad bands of gold beneath their
breasts. Their hair, which was very coarse and black, they cut off in
front, even with their eyebrows, by means of sharp flints, but allowed
the thick, luxuriant tresses to fall over their shoulders as far as the
waist.
They were fine-looking people, especially the young girls and children,
for, though their complexion was brown, or copper-colored, their forms
were models of symmetry, their countenances pleasing, and their
dispositions sweet and amiable. Their defects (for they were by no means
devoid of them) were such as might be expected to arise from their
barbarous mode of life, descended from ancestors who had never been
instructed in morals or religion, save in their most brutish forms. They
had, of course, no written language, nor even a hieroglyphic system, to
perpetuate their thoughts or the traditions of their ancestors; but
they were experts in the chant and dance known as the _areito_, which
they performed to the rude music of drums made of hollowed logs, like
the _tambouye_, or "tom-tom," of the Africans.
Free from the cares of civilization, their occupations agricultural,
with frequent forays into the forest for game and upon the river and
gulf for fish, they passed much of their time in idleness, except when
pressed for hunger or incited by passion to war upon their neighbors.
They knew not, as has been said, the value of gold, for they were always
willing to barter great nuggets for the veriest trifles and toys; but
Careta, the cacique of Coyba, may have been instructed in its worth by
the two Spaniards who had shared his hospitality, for when, under their
guidance, Balboa appeared in his settlement and demanded his treasures,
he declared he had none to supply. Neither had he any provisions, he
said, except such as were necessary to carry his tribe over to the next
planting season, for he had been engaged in a disastrous war with Ponca,
a powerful cacique who lived in the mountains, and his people had been
unable either to sow or to reap.
Then one of the traitors took Balboa aside, and said:
"Commander, believe him not. To my certain knowledge, he hath an
abundant hoard of provisions in barbacoas concealed in the forest, and
of gold, also, vast quantities hidden in the reeds and thickets. But it
is best to dissemble, for behold, he is surrounded by two thousand
warriors, and they will fight, as I know from having seen them combat
with the tribe of Ponca. Appear to believe him, then, and pretend to
depart for Antigua; but in the night return, take him by surprise, burn
the village, and make the cacique prisoner, with all his family."
This advice seemed sound to Balboa, and he acted on it promptly, turning
about that afternoon and making as though departing for Darien, after a
cordial leave-taking, to the cacique's great delight. The unsuspecting
chieftain watched the Spaniards out of sight, heard their drums and
bugles resounding through the forest farther and farther away, and,
convinced that they had indeed left him in good faith, retired to rest
without setting scouts on their trail or posting sentinels about his
camp. But the sagacious Balboa had no sooner placed a league or so of
forest between himself and the unwary Careta than he ordered a halt. The
wood was dense and dark, for the trees of the tropical forest are not
only vast of bulk, but thickly held together by innumerable vines and
bush-ropes, called _lianas_, seemingly miles in length, and forming
impenetrable bulwarks, overtopped by canopies of foliage, through which
the sun even at mid-day can hardly send a single ray.
Having with him, however, axes and _machetes_ for cutting his way
through the forest, the prudent Balboa had commanded his men to slash a
broad path ahead of the company, and thus, when they halted for rest
shortly after sunset, behind them lay an open, easy trail leading
directly back to the cacique's village. After posting sentries
roundabout the camp, Balboa ordered a bountiful meal to be served his
hungry men, one hundred of whom were allowed to sleep for the space of
two hours, after which the command was given to march.
Without bustle or confusion, the soldiers formed in loose order and
commenced their retrograde march through the forest, thanks to the
foresight of their commander, finding the return far easier than the
advance. All was silent as they approached the village, and, as
stealthily as jaguars about to leap on their prey, crept within bow-shot
of the dwellings. Balboa had passed the order for his men to refrain
from shedding blood, unless a fierce resistance were offered, and,
whatever happened, to capture the cacique and his family alive. The
royal dwelling was conspicuous from its size and its position on a mound
raised somewhat above the general level of the town, and it was silently
surrounded by a picked company.
Suddenly the twang of a cross-bow string broke the stillness of the
night, followed by a sheet of fire from an arquebuse; for two of the
soldiers had spied some Indians moving through a thicket, and concluded
the whole village was alarmed. At once, in terrible confusion, from the
surrounded houses outpoured swarms of startled savages, naked and
weaponless, seeking security by flight, and with no intention of
resisting the unexpected attack. Several of them were cut down by the
swordsmen and halberdiers, and a few were transfixed by arrows from the
cross-bows; but the greater number were allowed to dart into outer
darkness and escape. Nearly all escaped, in fact, except the cacique's
numerous family, who, surrounded by the soldiery, with naked swords and
lighted fusees in their hands, cowered around their dwelling in
affright.
One alone attempted to escape, and would have succeeded but for
Leoncico, Balboa's faithful hound, who had effectively assisted at
"rounding up" the band, and was keeping a vigilant watch at his master's
side. With a leap and a growl, Leoncico sprang over the heads of the
group in front of him and disappeared in the darkness of the wood.
"Dios!" exclaimed Balboa, in alarm. "It was a woman--a maiden! God grant
she may not resist him! I never knew Leoncico to harm a woman, but he
has torn many a man to pieces. Gonzalez, take you command for the
moment, while I follow the hound to see that he does no harm to the
maiden." Saying this, he plunged into the wood, which grew close up to
the cacique's dwelling, and with his sword and heavy armor cut and beat
down the vines that stretched across the path his hound had taken. Soon
he was surrounded by silence, as well as by darkness, for the Indians
who had fled to the forest lay quiet, like hares in a form, and the
turmoil of the village was left far behind him.
"Leon--Leoncico!" he shouted, "where art thou?" For a while there was no
response, then a hoarse bark sounded in his ears. It came from a point
well ahead, deep in the wood, but by dint of sword and armor he forced
his way to it, and there found that of which he was in search. The
darkness was intense, for the time was then about midnight; but as he
pushed his way onward a stray gleam of moonlight thrust a lance-like
shaft through the leafy canopy above, and he saw the form of Leoncico
crouching in front of a cringing figure outlined against the trunk of a
mighty tree. Then Balboa drew breath with great relief, for, despite the
darkness, he could see that the captive was, apparently, unharmed. She
was pressed close against the tree-trunk, clinging for support to a
sturdy liana, and motionless, save for the trembling which shook her
like a leaf.
She seemed, indeed, a statue cast in golden bronze. Fear had paralyzed
her limbs so that she did not move, even when, approaching softly,
Balboa called to her to be of good cheer and touched her reassuringly.
She continued gazing at the hound with wide-staring eyes and parted
lips, as though fascinated by that terrible apparition. She had never
seen its like before, and could not but have been bereft of sense and
motion when it had sprung upon her from the darkness of the forest, like
a phantom of evil.
Realizing that his errand had been accomplished with the appearance of
his master, Leoncico rose with a growl, and would have returned to the
village had not Balboa halted him. "Lie down, brute," he cried, in a
voice hoarse with rage. "What do you mean by pursuing a defenceless
maiden? Were there not warriors enough for you to slay?"
The hound cringed before him and whined, as though to exculpate himself;
but suddenly his whole attitude changed. Springing erect, and thrusting
his nose into the air, while the hair on his neck bristled with rage, he
uttered a low, deep growl. At the same instant the whistle of an arrow
came to Balboa's ears and a missile struck him forcibly between the
shoulders. But for his armor he might have been transfixed, so
forcefully was the missile-weapon sent; but, as it was, it fell in
fragments to the ground.
Then there was the sound of a scuffle, a shriek of agony pierced the
air, followed by the ravening of Leoncico as he tore to pieces the
victim of his rage. He had sprung upon the savage who in the darkness
had approached and sped the arrow at his master, and, bearing him to the
ground, made short work of the poor wretch, who was soon a mangled
corpse. Stupefied as she was by fear, the maiden could not but have felt
the horror of that terrible scene, and sank senseless to the ground.
War's dread experiences had not so seared the heart of Balboa that he
could be insensible to pity for his helpless captive, and, sheathing his
sword, he gathered her in his arms. Preceded by Leoncico, he bore her
tenderly through the forest, shielding her from harm in the darkness,
and in due time joined his command at the village.
V
THE CACIQUES OF DARIEN
1511
As Vasco Nunez burst into the circle of light shed by the flames of
burning bohios, the red glare from which lighted up the steel-clad
soldiers and their abject captives, he was greeted by glad exclamations
from the former and cries of distress from the latter. He strode through
the lines without a word, and, making for the group containing the
cacique's family, he sought out an elderly female, whom he supposed to
be the mother of the girl, and delivered his charge into her keeping.
The cries of distress were instantly hushed as the happy mother gathered
the girl in her arms, but as the minutes went by without any signs of
recovery from the maiden, low moans broke from the captives, and many of
them began to gash themselves and tear their hair.