THE INCA OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.
"Long ago, very long ago," Diego, the Vaquero, began, "all the lands
bordering the bay of Valparaíso belonged to the Indians, whose vast
hunting grounds extended on one side from the lofty peaks of the
Cordilleras down to the sea, and on the other covered the Pampas of
Buenos Aires, of Paraguay--in a word, all the splendid countries from
which they have eternally disappeared, and it is impossible to find a
trace of the moccasins which trod them during centuries."
"The Indians were at that day free, happy, powerful, and more numerous
than the grains of sand in the bed of the sea. But one day strange news
spread among them: it was said that white men, who had come no one knew
whence, and mounted on immense winged horses, had suddenly appeared in
Peru."
"I need not remind you of all that occurred in consequence of this
news, which was only too true, or describe to you the hideous massacres
committed by the Spaniards, in order to reduce the unhappy Indians to
slavery, for it is a story which everybody knows. But what you are
possibly ignorant of is, that during one of the dark and stormy nights
which followed this invasion, a dozen men of majestic demeanour, with
haughty though care-laden brows, were seen to land from a canoe half
broken by the waves and jagged rocks."
"They were Indians who had miraculously escaped from the sack of Quito,
and had come to present themselves as suppliants to the elders of the
Araucano nation. Among them was a man whom they respectfully obeyed. He
was the son of the sister of the valiant Atahualpa, King of Quito, and
his name was Tahi-Mari. When in the presence of the elders, Tahi-Mari
gave them a narration of the misfortunes which had struck him."
"He had a daughter, Mikaa, the purest and loveliest of the daughters
of the Sun. When conquered by the Spaniards, who, after killing two of
his sons, set fire to his palace, Tahi-Mari, followed by his three sons
left home, rushed toward the palace of the Sun, in order to save his
daughter, if there were still time."
"It was night: the volcano was roaring hoarsely, and hurling into the
air long jets of fire, whose lurid and sinister gleams combined with
the flames of the fire kindled by the conquerors of this unhappy city.
The squares and streets were encumbered with a terrified multitude,
who fled in all directions with terrible cries from the pursuit of the
Spanish soldiers, who, intoxicated with blood and carnage, massacred
mercilessly old men, women, and children, in order to tear from their
quivering bodies the gold collars and ornaments which they wore.
Neither tears, prayers, nor entreaties succeeded in moving their
ferocious executioners, who with yells and shrill whistles excited
their dogs to help them in this horrible manhunt."
"When Tahi-Mari reached the Temple of the Sun, that magnificent
edifice, which contained such riches, had become a prey to the flames;
a girdle of fire surrounded it on all sides, and from the interior
could be heard the groans of the hapless virgins who were expiring in
the tortures of a horrible death. Without calculating the imminency of
the peril, the poor father mad with grief and despair, rushed into the
burning furnace which opened its yawning mouth before him."
"'My daughter! my daughter!' he cried. In vain did the flames singe his
clothing; in vain did frightful burns devour his hands and face: he
felt nothing, saw nothing; from his panting chest constantly issued the
piercing cry--"
"'My daughter! my daughter!'"
"Suddenly a half-naked virgin, with dishevelled hair, and her features
frightfully contracted, escaped from the flames; it was Mikaa.
Tahi-Mari, forgetting all that he had suffered, weepingly opened his
arms to the maiden, when a Spaniard, dressed in a brilliant garb, and
holding a sword in his hand, rushed upon Mikaa, and ere her father had
time to make a gesture thrust his weapon into her chest!"
"Oh, it is frightful!" Leon, who had hitherto listened to his comrade's
story in silence, could not refrain from exclaiming.
Diego made no reply, but a sinister smile played round his livid lips.
"The maiden fell bathed in her blood, and Tahi-Mari was about to avenge
her, when the Spaniard dealt him such a fierce blow that he lost his
consciousness. When he regained his senses the officer had disappeared."
"It is infamous," Leon said again.
"And that officer's name was Don Ruíz de Soto-Mayor," Diego said, in a
hollow voice.
"Oh!" Leon muttered.
"Wait a moment, brother; let us continue, for I have not finished yet."
"Though tracked like a wild beast, and incessantly hunted by the
Spaniards, Tahi-Mari, accompanied by his three sons and some faithful
friends, succeeded in getting away from Quito and reaching the country
of the Araucanos."
"After the Inca had recounted his misfortunes to the great Indian
Chief, the latter welcomed the fugitives with hearty marks of
affection; one of them, the venerable Kouni-hous-koui (he who is
respected), a descendant of one of the oldest families of the Sagamores
of the nation, exchanging his calumet with Tahi-Mari, declared to him,
in the name of the Araucanos, that the Council of Elders adopted him as
one of their caciques."
"From this day Tahi-Mari, owing to his courage and wisdom, acquired the
esteem of those who had given him a new country to love and defend."
"Several years passed thus, and no sign led the Araucanos to suspect
that the Spaniards would ever dare to attack them; they lived in a
perfect state of security, when suddenly and without any justification
for the aggression, a Spanish fleet consisting of more than thirty
brigantines sailed into the bay of Valparaíso. They had no sooner
disembarked than they built a city, which soon saw the flag of conquest
floating from its walls."
"Still the Araucanos, although driven back by their terrible enemies,
were aroused by the voice of Tahi-Mari, and resolved to keep the
Spaniards constantly on their defence, by carrying on against them
a war of snares and ambushes, in which the enemy, owing to their
ignorance of the places where they fought, did not always get the best
of it."
"In the course of time, this perpetual war made them lose a great
number of soldiers, and feeling desperate at seeing several of their
men fall daily under the blows of invisible enemies, who seemed to
inhabit hollow trees, the tops of mountains, or the entrails of the
earth, they turned all their rage against Tahi-Mari, whose influence
over all the men who surrounded him they were aware of, and resolved to
get hold of him."
"But it was no easy matter, for the Inca was on his guard against every
attack, and was too well versed in the tactics of his enemy to let
himself be caught by cunning or treachery. And yet this was destined to
happen. There was among the Indian prisoners--alas! it is disgraceful
to say it, but it was so--a man who, given to habits of intoxication
and brought to Peru by the Spaniards, did not recoil before the offer
made him to betray his brothers, on condition that they should give him
as much aguardiente as he could drink."
"The Spanish captain, fertile in expedients, who had proposed this
cowardly bargain to the Indian, induced the latter to go to Tahi-Mari,
give himself out as an escaped prisoner, and, after inquiring into
his plans, urge him to surprise the Spaniards, of whose numbers,
position, and plan of campaign he was to give a false account. Once
that Tahi-Mari was in the power of the Spaniards, firewater would amply
compensate the traitor."
"All was carried out in the way the officer suggested; for could
Tahi-Mari suspect that an Araucano would betray him? He received him
on his arrival among his brothers with transports of joy, and then
questioned him as to the enemy's strength and means of defence. This
was what the Indian was waiting for: he answered the questions asked
him by adroitly dissimulating the truth, and ended by asserting that
nothing was easier than to take the Spanish troops prisoners, and he
offered to guide the expedition in person."
"The hope of a certain victory animated the Araucanos, who joyfully
greeted this proposition, and all was soon arranged for the start.
During the night following the traitor's arrival, five hundred men
picked from the bravest, and led by Tahi-Mari, descended the mountain
under the guidance of the treacherous Indian, and marched silently upon
a Spanish redoubt, in which they expected to find the principal chiefs
of the enemy and surprise them."
"But as they advanced they perceived a dark line which was almost
blended with the darkness, but which could not escape the piercing
glances of the Indians. This line formed an immense circle, which
surrounded them and became more contracted every moment. It was the
Spanish horse coming to meet them and preparing to attack them."
"All at once Tahi-Mari uttered a yell of fury, and the head of the
traitor who had drawn them into the snare rolled at his feet; but ere
the Araucanos had time to retire, a number of horsemen, holding in
leash twenty of those ferocious dogs trained for man hunting, rushed
upon them. They were compelled to fight, and a terrible massacre began,
which lasted all night. Tahi-Mari performed prodigies of valour. In
the height of the action his eyes were injected with blood and a
lurid pallor covered his face; he had recognised among those who were
fighting the Spanish officer who killed his daughter Mikaa on the
threshold of the Temple of the Sun in so dastardly a way. On his side
the Spaniard rushed with incredible fury upon the Inca."
"It was a sublime moment! The two men attacked each other with equal
fury, and the blood that flowed from their wounds stained their
weapons. The axe which the Inca held was already whirling above the
head of the Spaniard to deal him the final blow, when Tahi-Mari
fell back, uttering a yell of pain: an enormous hound coming to the
officer's assistance, had ripped open the Inca's stomach. Taking
advantage of Tahi-Mari's defenceless state, Don Ruíz de Soto-Mayor
despatched him by passing his sword right through his body."
"The next day the Inca's body, frightfully mutilated, was burnt on the
public square of Valdivia, in the presence of a few Indians, who had
only escaped the sword of their murderers to die at a later date in the
punishment of a horrible captivity."
"Oh!" Leon exclaimed, who had felt his heart quiver; "it is frightful!"
"What shall I say, then?" Diego asked in his turn; "I who am the last
of the descendants of Tahi-Mari!"
At this unexpected revelation Leon started; he looked at Diego, and
understood that there was in this man's heart a hatred so deeply
rooted, and, above all, so long repressed, that on the day when it
broke out no power in the world would be strong enough to check the
terrible effects of its explosion. He hung his head, for he knew
not what to reply to this man who had to avenge such blood-stained
recollections. Diego took his friend's hand, and remarking the emotion
he had produced, added--
"I have told you, brother, what the ancestors of Don Juan de Souza
y Soto-Mayor made mine suffer, and your heart has bounded with
indignation, because you are loyal and brave; but what you do not yet
know is that the descendants of that family have faithfully followed
the conduct of the murderers of Tahi-Mari. Oh! there are strange
fatalities in a man's life! One day--and that day is close at hand--you
shall know the details of the existence which I have led, and the
sufferings which I have endured without a murmur; but at the present
day I will only speak of those of my race; afterwards I will speak of
myself."
While uttering the last words, a flash of joy like that which a tiger
feels when it holds a quivering prey under its claws passed into the
half-breed's eyes. He continued--
"My father died a victim to the cruelty of the Spaniards, who put him
to death because he dreamed of the independence of his country; his
brother followed him to the tomb, weeping for his loss."
"Diego! God has cruelly tried thee."
"I had a mother," Diego went on, with a slight tremor in his voice;
"she was the object of my father's dearest affections, and was young
and lovely. One day when she left the mountain to visit my father, who
was expiating within the walls of Valparaíso prison his participation
in a movement which had broken out among the Araucanos, she met on the
road a brilliant Spanish cavalier who wore a lieutenant's epaulettes."
"The Spaniard fixed upon her an impassioned glance; she was alarmed,
and tried to fly, but the horseman prevented her, and in spite of her
prayers and supplications, she could not liberate herself from the
villain's arms. On the morrow Lieutenant Don Juan de Soto-Mayor was
able to boast among his friends, the noble chiefs of the Spanish army,
that he had possessed the chaste wife of Tahi-Mari the Indian."
"Yes, it was again a Soto-Mayor. This accursed name has ever hovered
over the head of each member of my family, to crush it under
punishment, sorrow, shame, or humiliation. Each time that one of us has
reddened American soil with his blood, it was a Soto-Mayor that shed
it. Each time that a member of this family met a member of mine, one
was the executioner, the other the victim."
"And now, brother, you will ask me why, knowing that General Don Juan
de Souza y Soto-Mayor is the man who dishonoured my mother, I did not
choose among the weapons which hung from my girdle the one which should
pierce his heart?--why I have not some night, when all were sleeping
at the hacienda, carried within its walls the all-devouring fire, and
taken, according to Indian custom, eye for eye and tooth for tooth?"
"Yes, I confess it; I should have quivered with pleasure had I seen
all the Soto-Mayors, who live calm and happy a few leagues from us,
writhing in the agonies of death. But I am the son of Tahi-Mari, and I
have another cause to defend beside my own--that of my nation. And on
the day when my arm falls on those whom I execrate, it will not be the
Soto-Mayors alone who perish, but all the Spaniards who inhabit these
countries."
"Ah! is it not strange to dream of enfranchisement after three hundred
years of slavery? Well, brother, the supreme moment is close at hand;
the blood of the Spaniard will again inundate the soil of Peru, and the
nineteenth century will avenge the sixteenth."
"That is the reason why you saw me so silent at the general's house;
that is why I agreed to escort him and his family to Valdivia, for
my plans are marvellously served by this journey. As for the girl
you love, as I told you, you shall see her again, and it will be the
beginning of the punishment which is destined to fall on this family."
Diego had risen, but a moment later he resumed his ordinary stoicism.
"I have told you what you ought to know, in order to understand and
excuse what you may see me undertake against the Spaniards; but before
going further it is right that I should know if I can count on your
help, and if I shall find in you the faithful and devoted friend who
never failed me up to this day."
A violent contest was going on in Leon's heart. He asked himself
whether he, who had no cause of complaint against the Spaniards, had
any right to join those who were meditating their ruin. On the other
hand, the sincere friendship which he felt for the Vaquero, whose life
he had shared during the last four years, rendered it a duty to assist
him, and did not permit him to abandon him in the moment of danger.
Still he hesitated, for a secret anxiety kept him undecided, and
prevented him forming a resolution.
"Diego," he asked the Vaquero in his turn, "before answering you, let
me ask you one question?"
"Speak, brother!" Diego answered.
"What do you mean to do with Doña Maria?"
"I have promised you to bring her to your knees. If she love you, she
will be my sister; if she refuse your love, I shall have the right to
dispose of her."
"And she will have nothing to fear till I have seen her again?" Leon
asked further.
"Nothing! I swear to you."
"In that case," said Leon, "I will take part in your enterprise. Your
success shall be mine, and whatever be the road you follow, or the
means you employ to gain the object of your designs, I will do all that
you do."
"Thanks, brother; I was well aware that you would support me in the
struggle, for it is in the cause of justice. Now I will set out."
"Do you go alone?"
"Yes, I must."
"When shall I see you again?"
"Tomorrow morning, at Don Juan's, unless I am compelled to remain at
the place where I am going longer than I think; in that case I will
join you on the Talca road. Besides, you do not require me to escort
the general: our men will be at their post tomorrow, and you can say
something about my going on ahead."
"That is true; but Doña Maria?"
"You will see her again soon. But start alone tomorrow for the country
house, and I will meet you this day week, whatever may happen, in the
Del Solar wood, at the San Francisco Solano quarry, where you will
order a halt."
"Agreed, and I leave you to act as you think proper. Next Wednesday at
the Del Solar wood, and if you wish to join us before then, we shall
follow the ordinary road."
"Very good; now I am off."
Ten minutes after this long interview, Diego was galloping away from
his comrade, who watched him depart, while striving to conjecture in
what direction he was going. Profoundly affected by the varied events
of the preceding day, and the story which Diego had told him, Leon
reflected deeply as he walked toward the smugglers remaining with him,
and who were engaged in getting their weapons in order.
Although nothing in his exterior announced the preoccupation from which
the was suffering, it could be guessed that he was in a state of lively
anxiety. The image of Doña Maria floated before his eyes; he saw her
pale and trembling after he had saved her from his horse's rush, and
then, carrying himself mentally within the walls of the convent of the
Purísima Concepción, he thought of the barrier which separated them.
Then suddenly the half-breed's words returned to his ear--"If she
refuse your love," he had said, "I shall have the right to dispose of
her!"
An involuntary terror seized on the young man at this recollection. In
fact, was it presumable that Doña Maria loved him? and would not the
Vaquero be compelled to employ violence in carrying out his promise of
bringing him into the presence of the novice? In that case, how could
he hope to make himself loved?
These reflections painfully agitated Leon Delbès, who, obeying that
spontaneity of action peculiar to his quick and impetuous character,
resolved to fix his uncertainty by assuring himself of the impression
which he had produced on the heart of the maiden, whom he loved with
all the strength and energy of a real passion.
Such a sudden birth of love would appear strange in northern
countries, where this exquisite feeling is only developed in conformity
with the claims of the laws of civilization; but in Chili, as in the
whole of South America, love, ardent as the fires of the sun which
illumines it, bursts forth suddenly and displays itself in its full
power. The look of a Chilian girl is the flush which enkindles hearts
of fire which beat in breasts of iron.
Leon was a Frenchman, but several years' residence in these parts, and
his complete adoption of American manners, customs, and usages had
so metamorphosed him, that gradually his tastes, habits, and wants
had become identified with those of the inhabitants of Chili, whom he
regarded as his brothers and countrymen. Without further delay, then,
Leon prepared to return to Valparaíso, and make inquiries about Doña
Maria.
"It is two o'clock," he said to himself, after consulting his watch;
"I have time to ride to Ciudad, set Crevel to work, and be at the
general's by the appointed hour."
And leaping on his horse, he galloped off in the direction of the Port,
after bidding the ten men of the escort to start with or without him
the next morning for the country house.