sending out men for the same purpose. The story of the Gilded Man was
known over all Europe, and other nations, besides Spain, were trying
to find him. Some German bankers had loaned the king large sums of
money for the privilege of searching for El Dorado, and the first
white men to visit Gautavita was a band of Germans sent out by the
banking house. They wanted slaves as well as gold, and were just as
merciless and cruel as the Spaniards. In fact, any man having money
enough to buy boats, or to provision men, stole off into the woods and
went in search of the Gilded Man. The country was overrun with armed
bands of adventurers who were ready to commit any kind of crime for
the sake of gain. Whoever offered resistance was killed, and they were
suspicious and jealous of each other, as well as of the Indians.
After Pizarro's brother made such a miserable failure, and had to
endure such bitter hardships one would expect his friends and
associates to be careful about making another venture, but they knew
of the German invaders, and then it was a race to see who would get
hold of the Gilded Man first. Either side would have killed him and
burned and pillaged the city, so the Indians had learned to distrust
and hate all white men, and they made war on both the Spaniards and
Germans whenever they had an opportunity.
A young Spanish lieutenant, named Quesada, was the real conqueror of
the Muscas, and, as might have been expected, he murdered the Zipa and
robbed Gautavita, and every other village in the kingdom. He was as
hard-hearted with his men, as he was with the Indians, and after five
hundred of them had died from exposure on the way, they found
themselves surrounded on all sides by overflowing rivers. Weeping and
dejected they sought Quesada, saying:
"We beseech you to send us back to Peru. Instead of gold, only hunger,
misery and death await us here. The Gilded Man only exists in the
distorted fancy of those who believe the lying tales of the Indians."
At this juncture they stumbled on to a path with huts, at intervals,
by the wayside, filled with the white cakes of salt said to come from
the home of the Gilded Man, and they also found some cotton cloth.
"We are on the right road at last," said Quesada, to his dispirited
soldiery. "Prove faithful now, and we shall soon stand face to face
with El Dorado." With a significant nod of the head, he added: "You
know what that means to fearless men, like yourselves, and you can
trust to the generosity of your captain for a rich reward."
The prospect of getting plenty of gold soon caused the men to forget
all about their troubles, but the Zipa not only fought them
stubbornly, but when he was finally compelled to abandon Gautavita,
there was no treasure to be found. The Muscas had either buried all
their gold and emeralds, or thrown them into the lake. Great, indeed,
was the disappointment of the Spaniards, and for his own safety
Quesada soon planned another expedition against a neighboring tribe of
Indians. The strange chief was surprised and captured in the Council
House, and with him perished all of the notable men of the tribe. The
soldiers found some gold and some very fine emeralds, but when they
went to sack the Temple of the Sun, which had a thatched roof, they
carelessly set the dry leaves on fire, and burned all the plate and
other treasures it contained. Bands of armed men rode hither and yon
looking for the Zipa, whom they now believed to be the Gilded Man. He
kept in very close hiding, and no amount of torture, or promises of
reward could make his followers tell where he was, or where the gold
ornaments and vessels were hidden.
"He is in the mountain fastnesses, where he has a house made of gold,"
declared some irresponsible Indians, glad to get rid of the cruel
Spaniards.
"Where is the house located?" Quesada asked, eagerly.
"Some of the Indians say it is in the north, some say the south, some
say near by, and others far away," answered his servant.
"Very well, we will search in all directions until we find the
miserable dog, and when we do it shall go hard with him."
It took them several months to hunt him down, and when they did find
him he could not be induced to tell anything about the treasures.
"I have a house of gold in the sun where my master and lord, Bochica
lives. I go to him, whom I have faithfully served all my life."
After his death a new governor was sent from Peru, and he undertook to
drain the lake to get the treasures of gold and emeralds which had
been thrown into it in honor of the Golden Hearted. The Muscas were
told that the new Governor would be kind to them if they would tell
where they had hidden their wealth, but one of their priests said:
"Do you think a river will run up hill?"
The new Governor, hearing the remark, turned to him, and said:
"No, it is not possible for water to run up hill. Why do you ask such
a foolish question?"
"How then, do you expect me to believe in the existence of a white man
who will be just to us? One thing is quite as possible as the other."
And to this day no one knows what became of the riches of the brave
Muscas, but it is said that they still remember the Golden Hearted,
and in secret, offer gold and emeralds in his honor.
[Illustration]
The White Sea of the Manoas
The death of the Zipa and the complete subjugation of the Muscas, did
not cause people to forget the story of El Dorado. On the contrary
other nations soon began to fit out expeditions to search for him, and
they went into some dreadful places in South America thinking they
would find him.
"What ails that dog of an Indian?" asked Aguirre, the tyrant, and the
worst of all the Spanish adventurers looking for gold.
"He has fainted from fatigue," answered one of his men.
"Then cut off his head. We have no time to waste on these slaves."
"Let us unfasten the chain around his neck, and then he can drop
behind the rest of the gang," pleaded some of the Indians, who were
being used to help the horses carry the baggage.
"It will take too long, and the whole chain-gang of men would have to
wait until we could unfasten his neckband and put some one else in his
place. Chop off his head with this sword, and go on."
The other officers tried to console the terrified Indians by saying:
"If we were to leave him lying by the roadside, some wild animal would
come along and eat him, so it is just as well for him as if we had
done as you wished."
Many people now say that Aguirre was insane, and to this day the poor
Christian Indians cross themselves when they hear strange noises at
night, and exclaim:
"It is the soul of the tyrant Aguirre, who plunged a dagger through
the heart of his own daughter when the King's officers came to arrest
and punish him for his cruelties. He is doomed to wander over the
swamps at night, and wail over his terrible sins. His soul can never
be at rest."
Like thistle-down scattered by the wind, were the wonderful tales of
El Dorado. No matter where white men went they failed to find it, but
the cunning Indians always told them that it was still farther away,
because they wanted to get rid of the unwelcome visitors, who tortured
and enslaved, as well as robbed them.
Finally Sir Walter Raleigh, who helped colonize the state of Virginia,
and named it for Good Queen Bess of England, heard about the city of
Omagua, and the White Sea of the Manoas, and he determined to find
them, because there, he believed, was El Dorado.
Some English sailors under his command traded some pieces of old iron
to the Indians for shields of gold.
"Where did you get this metal?" was asked of the Indians.
"In Omagua, where the tiles on the roofs of the houses are made from
the same glittering substance, and where we hang crescents of it in
front of our doors to keep away evil spirits."
"What they say must be true," said the sailors among themselves, "for
they have gold crowns on their heads, and breast-plates and earrings."
"Where is this city of Omagua?" again asked the men.
"It is very far south, and is on a lake of gold. Our chief lives in
the House of the Sun, and has many green stones in his shield and on
the walls of the temples."
"What is the name of your chief?"
"El Dorado," answered the Indians, anxious that the white men should
know that they could speak their language.
"It is all plain to me," said Sir Walter Raleigh, when told of it.
"Those Spanish adventurers have failed to find the real El Dorado. We
will search for it ourselves."
"The Indians say there are whole streets filled with workers in gold
and precious stones," said one of his officers, "and I dare say we
shall make our enterprise quite profitable." So they, too, were
looking for gold, only their methods were not so barbarous and cruel
as the others had been.
As they went farther into the country they found a numerous band of
Indians with flat heads, and when they examined the babies carried on
the backs of their mothers it was seen that they had tied a board
across the forehead so that it would sink in and leave the head
pointed and flat in front.
"Why do you treat your heads in this manner?" some one asked their
chief.
"Because our fathers did so, and we think it makes us beautiful," he
answered. In that country there are still plenty of flat-headed
Indians. As the men marched along they came to trees with holes cut
through the bark, and little earthen pots hanging under them to catch
the sticky-looking milk that oozed out.
"Can this be something good to eat?" the men said. "Let us taste it
and see."
"Ugh! it has a nasty, disagreeable, bitter flavor," said the speaker,
licking his finger after he had stuck it down into the pot. "It smells
so badly that it makes me feel sick," he continued, spitting it out
quickly.
"Here comes an old woman with some nuts from the palm tree she has
been shaking in her hands. Let us ask her what this stuff is good
for."
But the old woman evidently did not have a very good opinion of white
men, and would not speak to them at all.
"We can watch her," they said, "and see whether she intends to eat
it."
She paid no attention to them, but went on making a fire out of the
palm nuts and some dry leaves, and as soon as they blazed brightly she
set the little pot near the fire and began stirring the milk with a
wooden paddle she carried in her hand. As soon as the blaze
smouldered, she held the paddle over it until the milk began to get
thick. Then she dipped it back into the pot and repeated the process
until there was enough coating to scrape off and make a flat cake.
[Illustration: DRYING INDIA RUBBER]
"Will you please give me the biscuit?" inquired one of the bystanders.
Without a word the old woman threw it at him, and when he caught it in
his hands, he exclaimed:
"It is India rubber! Now we can have a game of ball!" As it was still
warm he rounded it into shape with his hands, and then he and his
companions amused themselves for quite a while throwing the ball
against the trees and catching it as it bounded back. While they were
engaged in this sport the cooks were preparing them something to eat,
but the forest was full of monkeys swinging themselves from one tree
to another by their long tails and seemingly very much interested in
what the men underneath them were doing.
Now, we all know that a monkey imitates everything it sees, and so the
whole band began to go through the motion of throwing. As soon as they
found out there was something to eat they bobbed their heads and
screeched and chattered in great excitement. Every time the cook's
back was turned they slid down a limb of the tree and grabbed a dish
and scampered back again. They had such solemn little faces, and were
so quick about it, that the men shouted with laughter, but when they
sat down to eat, the monkeys jumped out of the trees and rushed for
the food.
The old Indian woman, comprehending the situation, approached camp and
said:
"Will the white chief let me cook something for the monkeys?"
"What do you want to feed them?"
"A pot of rice," she answered, "such as I know well how to prepare."
No one made any objection, and it was not long before she had a big
pan full of boiled rice, which she had made almost red with pepper.
Taking a wide, green leaf, she laid it down and poured the rice out to
cool. No sooner had she done so than the monkeys swarmed around the
pile, and squatting beside it began to eat by the handful. Tears ran
down their faces and water poured from their mouths, but they kept on
eating for a few minutes. Then, suddenly seeming to suspect each other
of being to blame, they commenced fighting with sticks and stones
until they scattered the rice all over the ground. By this time the
pepper was burning their mouths worse than ever, and not knowing what
was the matter they set up a doleful howling, and ran pell-mell into
the river quite a distance from camp. They tumbled into the water and
rolled and wallowed in it, but it was some little time before their
mouths quit smarting, and they were very willing to let the men alone.
The dogs belonging to the party gave chase, but the monkeys screamed
so that they awoke the alligators sleeping in the sun on the river
bank, and then the dogs had to run for their lives. One or two of them
barely escaped being caught in the wide open mouths of these monsters.
It was very much cooler when the sun went down, but that brought out
the mosquitos, and the men were obliged to sit in the smoke to save
themselves from being bitten dreadfully. They kept the fire going all
night, because they were afraid of the jaguars and panthers hidden in
the woods during the day, but ready to kill and eat anything they
might find in their night prowls.
It was considered safer out of doors than in the tents, but it was
impossible to sleep on account of the hideous noises made by the
animals, monkeys, birds and snakes.
"Why do these creatures keep up such a terrible din?" asked the men of
their Indian guides.
"Because they are keeping the feast of the full moon," they replied,
and this appeared to be a settled belief among them.
"Men put the jaguar out of humor," they explained. "He is a very
selfish beast, and if he cannot rule alone he goes to his den and
sulks. He will follow a man all day through the woods and will not
spring upon him unless he tries to run or moves his arms. If you think
one is following you do not look back and do not trust anything but
the sharp blade of your sword. The noise of a gun only infuriates
him."
As the men heard this they imagined they could see the yellow eyes
glaring at them in the darkness, and some thought they smelled him.
"He is a ferocious, blood-thirsty beast," said the Indians in
conclusion, "and you may well think yourselves fortunate when you
leave these tropic forests and get out into the open plains."
The men would have agreed with him if it had not been for the intense
heat, and a terrible sandstorm that almost blinded them for days when
it did not blow so hard that they could make no headway against it.
Finally, footsore, weary, and almost discouraged, they came to a wide
and deep river, and here the Indian guides brought them boats, which
they called pirogues.
"We are not far from the lake of gold beside the city of the Manoas,"
they said, and when the delighted soldiers inquired particularly, they
responded readily:
"We have these things from our fathers and other men wise in the
traditions and sayings of our people, but we are afraid to go any
further, for the Manoans are a fierce and warlike race."
About this time Sir Walter Raleigh learned that the Queen was not
pleased with his efforts in search of the El Dorado, and he decided to
withdraw his men and abandon the attempt.
But this did not hinder other men from trying to solve the mystery. It
was more than a hundred years before the truth was finally known, and
then a scientist discovered that the location itself had shifted and
was nearly as much changed as the ideas about El Dorado. He traced the
legend to Lake Parima, near the center of South America, and said:
"This is really the White Sea of the Manoas, which people have long
believed was a lake of gold. The reason the Indians thought so was
because there is some fine gold-dust in the washings of the sand,
which has plenty of mica mixed with it. Then there is a large quantity
of salt dried on the grass, and when the hot sun shines, it looks at a
distance as if it were a great sea of gold."
"Are the houses covered with gold tiles?" was the next inquiry.
"No indeed: they are common huts with thatched roofs on which the salt
and mica glisten and sparkle as they do in the grass and sand."
"Are the natives warlike? and do they eat each other, as we have been
told?"
"They are armed with javelins, wooden shields, bows and arrows, and a
short sword which they make for themselves. We found them very
friendly, and as for their being cannibals that is all imagination,
but it may have been true in olden times."
And this is really what people spent millions of money trying to find,
and for which hundreds of lives were uselessly sacrificed.
[Illustration]
The Mountain of Gold
Very far to the north of Lake Parima, is the celebrated Roraima, the
"Mountain of Gold," one of the objects sought by the men who were
looking for El Dorado.
"Let us set out on an expedition to see if we cannot solve the mystery
of this mountain, that is not only rich in gold and precious stones,
but grows the Plant of Life in abundance, which keeps one alive for
hundreds of years," said some idle Cavaliers who had become reckless
in their eagerness to acquire sudden riches.
"But they say Roraima is inaccessible, so what is the use of
attempting the impossible?" said one of the party, who had been out
hunting.
"I believe that the flat top of the mountain is inhabited, and that up
there is the famous island city of El Dorado," responded the first
speaker. "There is almost unlimited wealth to be had by finding it,
and these cowardly Indians are afraid to go near it."
"It will be a long, tedious journey," said the hunter, "and I doubt if
we can persuade the slaves to accompany us."
"They _shall_ go," said the other, firmly, "and if there is any sign
of rebellion we have a remedy," he continued, pointing to his gun
with a smile that was not pleasant to see.
It was as the hunter feared. The Indian porters and servants were
nearly frantic at the idea of being compelled to approach the dread
mountain.
"The whole place is weird and uncanny," they declared, "and the demon
mountain is surrounded by haunted woods, filled with camoodis and
didis."
When asked what a camoodi was, they explained that it was a gigantic
snake with a hood over its head, and whose breath killed whatever it
touched, while the didis were man apes, ferocious and terrible to see.
"It is a foolish superstition," said the Spaniards, in derision, "and
we will not listen to such idle tales."
"Roraima is an island, connected underground with the other mountains,
and the lights you see on the tops are put there by the demons to lure
us on to destruction."
"If it is inaccessible, how do these demons manage to get up there?"
asked the Spaniards.
"There are huge white eagles, that fly so high we cannot see them; but
they have very fine eyesight, and many a poor brave has been seized by
them, and carried to the didis on the mountain."
"They must mean the big white birds we call condors, found in the
highest peaks of the Andes," said the Spaniards, "but our good weapons
are proof against any bird, and we need have no fear."
"As soon as it is dark in those terrible woods, blood-sucking vampires
swoop down from the trees and fasten their long red bills in your
throat," said the Indians, with a shudder, but no attention was paid
to anything they told of the hardships to be endured.
"It is better for us to start at the beginning of the dry season,"
said Carino, the Indian guide, and in a short time the entire party
was voyaging on one of the splendid rivers that span that country. In
canoes they passed through untracked forests and grassy savannahs
following the course of the river. Some places they were in great
danger from cataracts and rapids, but finally landed in a place where
there was a flock of red flamingos half hidden by tall pampas grass,
and where there were hundreds of little wild ducks with tiny horns on
their wings. In the trees were some rare and beautiful orchids, and
when some of the party climbed up to pick the big perfumed blossoms,
they were much surprised to find that what they thought was a flower
was a perfumed butterfly.
"We must be near the enchanted wood," said the Spaniards, but just
then they heard a sort of combination of whistle, snort and hiss that
frightened them dreadfully:
"Carino! what is that?" they all said, huddling up close together, and
listening intently.
"It is the cry of the Lost Souls, who have been slain by the camoodi,"
said Carino. "We have already seen their strange shapes flitting
through the deep shadows. They are in league with the didi to guard
this spot." As he spoke the Indian porters and slaves began a curious
chant in a singsong tone:
Darkly from sunset to the rising sun,
A cry as of the pained heart of the wood,
The long despairing moan of solitude
And darkness and the absence of all good,
Startles the traveler with a sound so drear,
So full of hopeless agony and fear,
His heart stands still and listens with his ear,
The guide, as if he heard a death-bell toll,
Crosses himself and whispers "A Lost Soul."
The last words seemed to affect Carino deeply and falling on his knees
before the leader of the expedition he said:
"My heart is heavy at the thought of your undertaking to fight the
demons of the mountain. It is not good--this thing you are about to
do. The didis may tempt you to enter these fatal woods, but they will
trap you by closing the trail and you will never be seen again."
"We will encamp here for the night, and tomorrow at sunrise we will
have a look at Roraima," said the leader, not feeling very comfortable
over the doleful noise called the wail of a lost soul. "It may be that
these Indians are not so far wrong," he said to himself when their
backs were turned. "At any rate, I do not fancy going into the woods
so near nightfall."
After a long parley Carino succeeded in persuading the porters and
servants to venture a short distance to get some wood for cooking and
other purposes. They had not been gone long when the Spaniards heard a
loud roaring bark, almost like a trumpet, quickly followed by several
more in the immediate vicinity. Soon the Indians came flying into camp
terror-stricken.
"The Warracaba cats!" they shouted, and before the Spaniards could
stop them, they had all piled into the canoes and were rowing for the
middle of the river. The white men stood with guns raised as four
screaming tigers sprang out of the woods in full pursuit of the
Indians they had smelled, but not seen. Bang! bang! bang! went the
guns in rapid succession, and three of the four tigers rolled on the
ground dead or dying, while the other one made off into the woods as
fast as he could go.
"That was a narrow escape, my masters," said Carino, shaking as if he
had ague, "and the other Warracaba will come back and bring
companions. These tigers hunt in packs like wolves, and are not afraid
of anything except deep water."
"What are we to do?" asked the leader, gruffly, pale with fright.
"Those dastardly slaves have gone off and left us without a single
boat. Do you think you can call them back?" he asked eagerly.
"I fear to answer that question," faltered Carino. "I have warned you
that my people fear these woods, and are never willing to go into
them."
Then the Cavaliers began very foolishly to blame each other for coming
to such a place, and were soon in high words--as if quarreling would
help them out of their difficulty.
"If you had not been so greedy for gold you would never have
undertaken such a journey," said one of them.
"And if you had been willing to work for an honest living you would
not have been so eager to come with me," retorted the other angrily.
Carino realizing that something must be done at once, interrupted the
dispute by saying:
"There is an old Manoan witch named Monella, who has lived at the edge
of this wood for hundreds of years, and if you will follow me I will
conduct you to her hut. The pathway is hung with bell-shaped flowers
of many hues, and these give a dim light when the sun goes down. If we
make haste we may reach it before dark."
Without a word the Spaniards picked up what things they needed for the
night, and carrying them on their backs in separate bundles, moodily
followed Carino. None but an Indian could have found the way through
such a tangled mass of undergrowth. Suddenly Carino stopped and called
out: