_Ascent of Panama_. _The party scattered about_. _Enter_ DRAKE _and_
CHIRUCA.
DRAKE. We have heard of wonderful treasure among your people, which has
escaped the rapacity of the Spaniards.
CHIRUCA. There are whole provinces, where they have never set a foot,
and where every mountain stream runs gold. It may be gathered in nets
and baskets. The greatest collection of such riches was in the temple of
the Goddess Dobeba. Vasco Nunez projected its plunder.
DRAKE. The name of the Deity, and her temple is new to me.
CHIRUCA. It is known and sacred, through all the Indian races. Our
traditions tell us of the beginning of things, and a mighty female—the
mother of the God that made the sun and moon, and the good things of the
earth. She has the controul of the elements, and directs the thunder and
lightning. A temple of gold, with the rarest gems and woods, was erected
to her. Here pilgrims flocked from far and near, bearing rich offerings.
Caciques of the most distant territories paid annually costly tribute to
her worship. The temple was filled with treasure, walls and gates were
gems and gold. The whole land abounds with these as plentifully as iron
with you. The great Caciques furnish their tables, nay cook their
viands, in vessels constructed of gold and silver, behold that great
cattle trough at the fountain—It is of silver.
DRAKE (_eagerly interrupting_). But the golden temple and its treasures,
I hope the villains did not get them?
CHIRUCA. No, friend Drake. The goddess took care of that—Zemaco, Lord
of Darien, got wind of their purpose. Repairing thither with the Cacique
of Dobeba, he despoiled the temple, and carried off the wealth of the
Province. Our enemies ere they reached the spot, found a land of
desolation. Led into a region of swamp and morass, with a deserted
village, he looked round and was without a guide. Still he picked up
some thousand ounces of gold, which the flying inhabitants had left.
Despatching it down the river in two canoes he began his retreat. Before
him yawned the morass, or spread the wilderness. Comagre had joined
Zemaco, and hovered round with thousands of Indian warriors. His march
was through showers of poisoned arrows, through starvation and
pestilence: for the goddess had blasted the soil! When the remnant of
his wretched band arrived at the coast, it was to behold his brigantines
wrecked, his canoes with their precious freights swallowed up in the
raging sea. The goddess moved the elements and stirred the briny deep to
avenge her on her foes.
_Scene changes_.