THE JAGOUAS OF THE HUILICHES.
In the sparkling beams of the sun which had risen radiant, the great
landscape which Leon was passing through assumed a really enchanting
appearance. Nature was, so to speak, animated, and a varied spectacle
had taken the place of the gloomy and solitary aspect which it had
offered on the previous evening to the captain and his comrade.
From the gates of the city, which were now open, poured forth groups
of Indians, mounted and on foot, who scattered in all directions with
shouts of joy and bursts of noisy laughter. Numerous canoes dashed
about the river, and the fields were peopled with flocks of llamas and
vicunas, guided by Indians armed with long wands, who were proceeding
to the city from their neighbouring farms.
Strangely-attired women, sturdily bearing on their heads long wicker
baskets filled with meat, fruit, or vegetables, walked along conversing
together and accompanying each sentence with that continued sharp
metallic laugh of which the Indian tribes have the secret, and whose
sound bears a near resemblance to that which the fall of a number of
pebbles on a copper dish would produce.
Leon, who, by the aid of his new exterior, could examine at his leisure
all that was taking place around him, looked curiously at the animated
picture which he had before his eyes; but what most fixed his attention
was a troop of horsemen in their war paint, armed with the enormous
Molucho lances, which they wield with such great dexterity, and whose
wounds are so dangerous. All, also, carried a slung rifle, a lasso at
their girdle, and advanced at a trot in the direction of the city; they
seemed to have come from the opposite direction to the one by which
Leon was arriving.
The numerous persons scattered over the plain stopped to gaze at them;
and Leon, taking advantage of this circumstance, hurried on so as to
be mixed up with the curious crowd. The horsemen still advanced at the
same pace, not noticing the attention which they excited, and arrived
within fifty yards of the principal gate, where they halted. At the
same moment three men quitted the city at a gallop, crossed in two
bounds the bridge thrown across the moat, and came to join them.
Three warriors came out of the ranks of the troop to which we have
alluded, and approached them. After a short conversation all six
horsemen rejoined the squadron, which started once again, and entered
the town with it. Leon, who followed them, reached the gate at the
moment when the last men of the detachment disappeared within the city.
Assuming the most careless air he could, although his heart beat as if
to break his chest, he presented himself in his turn to enter. After
crossing the wooden bridge with a firm step, he entered the gateway,
where a lance was levelled at his breast and barred his passage.
An Indian of lofty stature, to whom his grey hair and the numerous
wrinkles on his face imparted a certain character of gentleness,
cleverness, and majesty, advanced with measured steps, and looked
attentively at him.
"My brother is welcome at Garakouaïti," he said to Leon. "What does my
brother desire?"
"Yourana," answered Leon, who, thanks to the life he had led in the
Pampas, talked Indian with as much facility as his mother tongue--"is
my father a chief?"
"I am a chief," the Indian answered.
"My father can question me," Leon said.
"My brother seems to have come a long distance?" the other went on,
looking at the smuggler's worn boots.
"I left my tribe four moons back."
"Which is my brother's tribe?"
"I am a son of the Huiliches."
"Matai. My brother is not a warrior. I can see."
"My father is right; I am a Jagouas."
"Good! my brother is beloved by Chemiin."
Leon bowed, but said nothing.
"And where are the hunting grounds of my brother's tribe situated?"
"On the banks of the Great Salt Lake."
"And why has my brother left his tribe?"
"To come to Garakouaïti to exercise the skill with which Chemiin has
endowed me, and to adore Agriskoui in the magnificent temple which the
piety of the Indians has raised to him in the city of the sun."
"Very good! my brother is a wise man."
Leon bowed a second time to this compliment, although his anxiety was
extreme, and he knew not how the examination he was undergoing would
terminate.
"What is my brother's name?" the Indian asked.
"Cari-Lemon," Leon at once answered.
"My brother is truly a man of peace," the other remarked, with a smile.
"I," he added, drawing himself up haughtily, "am called Meli-Antou."
"My father is a great chief."
It was Meli-Antou's turn to bow with superb modesty on receiving this
flattering qualification.
"My skill supports the world: I am a son of the sacred tribe of the
great Chemiin."
"My father is blessed in his race."
"My brother will follow me, and my house will be his during the period
that he sojourns in Garakouaïti."
"I am not worthy to shake the dust of my moccasins off on the threshold
of his door," Leon replied, modestly.
"Chemiin blesses those who practise hospitality. My brother Cari-Lemon
is the guest of a chief; he will therefore follow me."
"I will follow my father, since such is his wish."
And he began walking behind the old Indian, delighted in his heart
at having escaped so well from the first trial. Before starting,
Meli-Antou entrusted to another Indian the post which he occupied at
the city gate, and then turned to Leon.
"Arami!" he said to him.
Both, without further remark, proceeded toward the house inhabited
by the chief, which was at the other extremity of Garakouaïti. The
European, accustomed to the tumult, bustle, and confusion of the
streets of the old world, which are constantly encumbered with vehicles
of every description and busy passers-by, who run against each other
and jostle at every step, would be strangely surprised at the sight of
the interior of an Indian city.
There are no noisy thoroughfares bordered by magnificent shops,
offering to the curiosity and covetousness of buyers or rogues, superb
and dazzling specimens of European trade. There are no carriages--not
even carts; the silence is only troubled by the footfall of a few
passers-by who are anxious to reach their homes, and walk with the
gravity of savants or of magistrates in all countries. The houses,
which are all hermetically closed, do not allow any sound from within
to be heard outside. Indian life is concentrated. The manners are
patriarchal, and the public way is never, as among us, the scene of
disputes, quarrels, or fights.
The dealers assemble in immense bazaars until midday, and sell their
wares--that is to say, their fruit, vegetables, and quarters of meat,
for any other trade is unknown among the Indians, as every family
weaves and manufactures its own clothing and the objects which it
requires. When the sun has attained one-half of its course, the bazaars
are closed, and the Indian traders, who all live in the country, quit
the city only to return on the morrow.
Everybody has by that time laid in the provisions for the day. Among
the Indians the men never work: the women undertake the purchases,
the household duties, and the preparation for everything that is
indispensable for existence. The men hunt or make war. The payment for
what is bought and sold is not effected as among us, by means of coins,
which are only accepted by the Indians on the seaboard who traffic with
Europeans, but by means of a free exchange, which is carried on by all
the tribes residing in the interior of the country. This system is
exceedingly simple: the buyer exchanges some object for the one which
he wishes to acquire: and nothing more is said.
The two men, after walking right through Garakouaïti, at length reached
the lodge of Meli-Antou, in which happened to be Mahiaa, his squaw,
whom our readers know as the Indian woman whom the Sayotkatta had
placed with General Soto-Mayor's daughters, in order to aid in their
conversion to the worship of the Sun. Since the illness of the young
ladies she had suspended her visits to the Jouimion Faré, but intended
to renew them so soon as she received instructions to that effect.
She was a woman of about thirty years of age, though she looked at
least fifty. In these regions, where growth is so rapid, a woman is
generally married when she is twelve or thirteen. Continually forced to
undertake rude tasks, which in other countries fall to the men, their
freshness soon disappears, and on reaching the age of thirty, they
are attacked by a precocious decrepitude which, twenty years later,
makes hideous and repulsive beings of women who, in their youth, were
generally endowed with great beauty and exquisite grace, of which many
European ladies might be fairly jealous.
Mahiaa, seated cross-legged on a mat of Indian corn straw, was grinding
wheat between two stones. By her side stood two female slaves,
belonging to that bastard race to which we have already referred, and
to whom the title of savage is applicable. At the moment when Leon
entered the lodge, Mahiaa and her women looked up curiously at him.
"Mahiaa," said Meli-Antou to his squaw, as he laid his hand on the
captain's shoulder, "this is my brother Cari-Lemon, the great Jagouas
of the Huiliches; he will dwell with us."
"My brother Cari-Lemon is welcome to the lodge of Meli-Antou," the
squaw replied, with a rather sweet smile. "Mahiaa is his slave."
"Will my mother permit me to kiss her feet?" said Leon.
"My brother will kiss my face!" the chiefs wife replied, as she offered
her cheek to Leon, who respectfully touched it with his lips.
"Will my son take maté?" Mahiaa continued. "Maté relieves the
traveller's parched throat."
The introduction was over. Meli-Antou sat down, while his wife ordered
her slaves to unload the llama and lead it to the corral, after which
the maté was served. Leon, while imbibing the favourite beverage of the
Spaniards and Indians, looked at the house in which he now was. It was
a rather spacious square room, whose whitewashed walls were adorned
with human scalps, and a rack of weapons, kept remarkably clean. Folded
up puma skins and ponchos were piled up in a corner, until they were
arranged as beds. Wooden chairs, excessively low and carved with some
degree of art, furnished this room, in the centre of which stood a
table, only some fifteen inches above the ground.
This interior, which is very simple, as we see, is reproduced in all
the Indian lodges; which are composed of six rooms. The first of these
is the one which we have just described, and the one in which the
family generally keep. The second is set aside for the children. The
third is used as a bedroom. The fourth contains the looms, which are
made of bamboo, and display an admirable simplicity of mechanism. The
fifth contains provisions of every description; and lastly, the sixth
is set apart for the slaves. As for the kitchen there is none, for
the food is prepared in the corral, that is to say, in the open air.
Chimneys are equally unknown, and each room is warmed by means of an
earthenware brasero.
The household duties are entrusted to the slaves, who work under the
inspection of the mistress of the house. These slaves are not all
savages; many of them are unhappy Spaniards made prisoners of war, or
who have fallen into the ambushes which the Indians incessantly set for
them.
The lot of the latter is even more sad than that of their companions
in slavery, for they have not the prospect of being free some day,
and must expect to perish sooner or later as victims to the spite of
their cruel masters, who avenge themselves on them for the numberless
vexations which they suffer at the hands of the Spaniards. It is truly
in this harsh captivity that a man can apply to himself the words which
Dante inscribed over the gates of the Inferno, "Lasciate ogni speranza."
Meli-Antou, to whom accident had led Leon, was one of the most
respected chiefs among the warriors of Garakouaïti: he had lived among
Europeans, and the experience which he had acquired by passing through
countries remote from his home, had rendered him more polite and
sociable than the majority of his countrymen.
He informed Leon that he was the father of four sons, who had joined
the great Moluchos army, and were fighting against the Spaniards: he
told him of the journeys he had made, and seemed anxious to prove to
the medicine man, Cari-Lemon, that his great courage as a warrior, and
his military virtues, did not prevent him recognising all that there
was noble and respectable in science.
The captain seemed deeply touched by the consideration which
Meli-Antou paid to the character he was invested with, and resolved
to profit by his host's good temper to sound him cleverly as to
what he desired to know as to the presence of Diego, Tahi-Mari, and
the young ladies in the city. Still, in the fear of arousing the
Indian's suspicions, he waited till the latter furnished him with the
opportunity to question him.
An hour about had elapsed, and Leon had not yet been able to approach
the question without danger, when an Indian presented himself in the
doorway.
"Agriskoui rejoices," said the newcomer.
"My brother is welcome," said Meli-Antou; "my ears are open."
"The great council of the Ulmens is assembled," the Indian said, "and
awaits my brother Meli-Antou."
"What is there new then?"
"Tcharanguii has just arrived with his warriors, his heart is full of
bitterness, and he wishes to speak to the council."
"Tcharanguii returned!" exclaimed Meli-Antou, in surprise; "that is
strange."
"He has just arrived in the city."
"Was he in command of the warriors who arrived about an hour ago?"
"Himself. My brother did not look in his face when he passed before
him? What answer shall I give the chief?"
"That I am coming to the council."
The Indian bowed and departed, and the old chief rose, and, after
courteously taking leave of Leon, went to the council. The captain took
advantage of the freedom granted him to take a turn round the city, and
try to pick up the topographical information of which he stood in need.
Not knowing how his stay in the city would terminate, or how he should
get out of it, he studied most carefully the formation of the streets
and the situation of the buildings, in the event of an attack or an
escape. When he returned to Meli-Antou's lodge, the latter had got back
and was awaiting him with a certain amount of impatience. On remarking
the animation depicted on the Indian's features, Leon thought that he
had, perhaps, discovered something concerning him, and advanced with a
considerable amount of suspicion.
"My brother is really a great Jagouas?" Meli-Antou asked, as he looked
searchingly at him.
"Did I not tell my father so?" Leon answered, who began to believe
himself seriously menaced.
"My brother will come with me, then, and bring the implements of his
art."
It would not have been prudent to refuse; besides, nothing as yet
proved that Meli-Antou had any evil intentions; hence Leon accepted.
"My father can go on, and I will follow him," he contented himself with
answering.
"Does my brother speak the language of the Spanish barbarians?"
"I have lived for a long time on the banks of the Salt Lake, and I
understand the idiom which they employ."
"All the better."
"Have I to cure a Spaniard?" Leon asked, who wished to make sure of
what was expected of him.
"No," said Meli-Antou, "one of the great Moluchos chiefs brought here
some time back two paleface women; it is they who are ill; the evil
spirit has seized on them, and they are at this moment in danger of
death."
Leon started at this unexpected revelation; his heart all but stopped
beating, and an involuntary shudder agitated all his limbs. He was
compelled to make a superhuman effort to drive back the profound
emotion which he experienced, and to answer Meli-Antou in a calm voice:
"I am at my father's orders."
"Let us go, then," the Indian answered.
Leon took up his box of medicaments, followed the old man, and both,
leaving the lodge, proceeded towards the Palace of the Vestals.