ANIWEE;
OR,
THE WARRIOR QUEEN.
[Illustration: ANIWEE LEADING THE CHARGE (_p. 270_).]
ANIWEE;
OR,
THE WARRIOR QUEEN.
_A TALE OF THE ARAUCANIAN INDIANS AND THE MYTHICAL TRAUCO PEOPLE._
BY
LADY FLORENCE DIXIE,
AUTHOR OF
“REDEEMED IN BLOOD,” “GLORIANA; OR, THE REVOLUTION OF 1900,” “THE YOUNG
CASTAWAYS,” ETC., ETC.
LONDON:
HENRY AND COMPANY,
BOUVERIE STREET, E.C.
1890.
Printed by Hazell, Watson, & Viney, Ld., London and Aylesbury.
Dedication.
TO
THE MEMORY OF
HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS
PRINCE LEOPOLD, DUKE OF ALBANY,
THIS VOLUME
Is respectfully Dedicated,
BY THE GRACIOUS PERMISSION OF
HER ROYAL HIGHNESS
THE DUCHESS OF ALBANY.
God gave thee life,—a life of noble aims,
Brief, yet inspired by loftiness of thought,—
Thought, the great offspring of a mighty pow’r,
Which thou didst wield to lead thy fellow-men
Along great duty’s hard and ruggèd path.
Thine was a bright example. High aloft
Thy virtues flash’d their pure inspiring rays,
Piercing the murky clouds of human sin,
And lighting up the realm where goodness dwells.
To know thee was to love thee. Thine the pow’r
To weave thy spell around the hearts of men.
A noble life is wondrous, beautiful.
And such was thine, brief—yea, alas! too brief,—
Yet not one mis-spent hour could claim of thee
Its stern account, as o’er the bound’ry line,
Across the frontier, ’twixt life and death,
With fearless step thou sought’st the better land.
They call thee dead! Nay, surely ’tis not Death
To pass from one world to another realm?
’Tis but a pilgrimage, a heavenly tour
Throughout the vast creation of our God.
Nay, dead thou art not, for thy spirit lives,
And its pure influence will never die.
Hist’ry will bid the rising youth behold
A bright example and a stainless life.
If, then, to others ’tis a beacon light,
A model for the Imitator’s art,
Ah! surely, brief as was thy sojourn here,
Thou hast not dwelt amongst us all in vain.
F. D.
[Illustration]
INTRODUCTION.
I was once a child myself, and dearly loved those books of adventure
which told of strange lands and strange people I had never seen. Yet,
when I read about the North American Indians and their wild ways, I
would often wonder why there were so few books which told us about the
Indians of South America and the beautiful countries contained therein;
and I determined some day to visit those lands if I lived, and tell the
generation of girls and boys following me all about them. Well, my young
friends, I have told you a good deal in “The Young Castaways,” and now I
am going to tell you still more in the following pages. I am going to
tell you about a splendid unexplored country, and several adventures
that happened therein, and I hope some day that some of you will go and
see those countries, and penetrate even further into their mysteries,
than did the girls and boys who figure in this book. Those amongst you
who have read “The Young Castaways” will renew acquaintance with old
friends, which, no doubt, will give you pleasure.
I remain, my dear girls and boys,
Your sincere friend,
THE AUTHORESS.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
PAGES
The youthful Warrior Queen—Joyful
News—Expectation—Inacayal—Tolderias—La Guardia Chica—Every
Inch a Queen—The Whites’ Approach 1–11
CHAPTER II.
A Ceremony—Aniwee’s Welcome—A Happy Meeting—Midshipman
Harry—The Girl Cacique—The Cristianos’
Attack—Treachery—Foiled 12–20
CHAPTER III.
Aniwee Fighting—A False Alarm—Wounded—Inacayal’s
Charge—Graviel’s Tale—A Great Feast—The young Queen speaks 21–29
CHAPTER IV.
Harry and Topsie—Jest and Earnest—Lazies!—A Sport Programme—The
great Gold Mine—Hospitality—The Start—A Fairy Scene 30–38
CHAPTER V.
Welcome—A Hunt proposed—The Hunting Party—Baguales—Wild Horses
sighted—The Indian Charge—The Stallion’s Charge—The Grey
Mare—“I say, where’s Topsie?” 39–47
CHAPTER VI.
Hunter and Hunted—A Race for Life—A risky Alternative—A
terrible Crash—Topsie’s Captor—The Trauco Being—A painful
Position—A silent Conversation—Thirst 48–56
CHAPTER VII.
Missing—Anxiety—The Haunted Forest—Traces of Topsie—The wounded
Labrador—Shag’s Impatience—Shag under the Surgeon’s
Knife—Preparing for Action—To the Rescue—“It is God’s Will” 57–66
CHAPTER VIII.
Plans made—Shag to the Fore—Shag takes the Field—At Fault—The
Sun shines—A tedious March—Demons of the Andes—The Mystic
Bell—“Topsie, dear old Topsie” 67–76
CHAPTER IX.
Retrospect—The Wild young Lady of the Forest—An alarming
Situation—Strange Tactics—A skilful Shot—Again the Mystic
Bell—A mysterious Incident—Piñone—A Discovery 77–85
CHAPTER X.
“The Trauco People!”—Piñone and Topsie—Plans of Escape—Caught
in a Trap—A Tale—A chance of Escape—A desperate
Enterprise—Recapture 86–95
CHAPTER XI.
A Traitor—Hostilities—A cunning Device—Drugged—A Thief in the
Night—“Treason!”—Graviel Disconsolate—Search 96–104
CHAPTER XII.
Anguish—The Trauco’s Retreat—A successful Ruse—Topsie saved—A
piteous Sight—The Trauco’s Death—Aniwee startled—The Face of
the Dead—A joyful Meeting 105–113
CHAPTER XIII.
The Search begun—Regrets—A suspicious Movement—Pursuit—A Ride
for Life—Capture 114–122
CHAPTER XIV.
Once more—The Hand of Time—Forebodings—Terrible News—Stolen—A
sullen Captive—“Speak or Die”—“Where is La Guardia Chica?” 123–131
CHAPTER XV.
Gloom—Good Advice—Aniwee Busy—A fruitless Search—Kai Chileno’s
Treachery—Led Forth to Judgment—A Speech—“If the Men fear,
the Women do not”—Piqued 132–140
CHAPTER XVI.
Volunteers chosen—In for a Lark—Harry again—Entering the
Forest—“A Black Jaguar!”—Piñone’s Attack—Death of the
Jaguar—A Bivouac—A Story asked for 141–149
CHAPTER XVII.
Piñone’s Tale—A strange Scene—A heavy Sleep—Departure—The
Mystic Bell—White Traucos—The terrible Demons 150–158
CHAPTER XVIII.
“The Demons of the Andes!”—A fierce Fight—The great Trauco
Village—The Queen’s Welcome—A mysterious Fire—Equal
Occupations—A Gold Forge—A Black-ringed Jaguar—Liberty 159–167
CHAPTER XIX.
Preparations—A kindly Queen—Escape—Flight—Pursuit—A heavy
Sleep—A Welcome—Food Supply—The great Gold Mine of Or 168–175
CHAPTER XX.
Wonderful!—Exploring the Mine—A terrible Catastrophe—Agony and
Joy—Suspense—Splendid Self-sacrifice—The Wild Queen’s
Heroism—Under Guard 176–183
CHAPTER XXI.
Sleepless—A restless Night—Through the Forest—A Gallop to the
River—Aniwee Moody—Mary in Jeopardy—A Monster—“A diabolical
Serpent” 184–191
CHAPTER XXII.
The Search Party—Caution—Reconnoitring—The Baby
Prisoner—Departure—Consultation—In Council—A Critical Moment 192–199
CHAPTER XXIII.
The Trauco Village—Reconnoitring—The Prisoner sighted again—A
noble Impulse—The only Refuge—The Virtue of Powder and Shot—A
formidable Array—Retreat 200–208
CHAPTER XXIV.
The Old Man’s Grave—Provisions—A Hunt Party—The Start—A monster
Bull—“El lazo, el lazo!”—An indiscreet Shot—A narrow Squeak
for Life 209–216
CHAPTER XXV.
Topsie remonstrates—Shag the Hero—A Rest and a Feast—Startled—A
perilous Encounter—Just in Time—The Demons again—Sir
Francis’s Tale—The Raft 217–225
CHAPTER XXVI.
Travelling—Memories of the Past—Excitement—The great Gold Mine
of Or—Blocked—Gold, Gold, Gold everywhere—Earthquake—A
terrible Calamity—Buried Alive! 226–234
CHAPTER XXVII.
British Pluck—A Chance—Topsie’s noble Resolve—The Girl
Volunteer—Steadfast in Hope—The Sandstone
Vein—Suspense—Excelsior—Victory 235–243
CHAPTER XXVIII.
Communication—The Ascent begun—Shag goes Aloft—“Aniwee will
leave the Last”—Piñone troubled—Graviel’s Devotion—The
Avalanche—A brave young Queen—Gratitude—A great
Landslip—Buried 244–254
CHAPTER XXIX.
Old Scenes—Last Day in the Mountains—A Bird’s
Paradise—Preparations—Good News—Horses in Plenty—Gilwinikush
and Aniwee—A Joyful Meeting 255–262
CHAPTER XXX.
“Something’s up”—Serious News—An entrenched Position—A forced
March—Preparations for the Fight—Before the Battle—The
Charge—Aniwee transformed—A Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing—Struck
down 263–272
CHAPTER XXXI.
The War-whoop—“It is Graviel!”—A personal Encounter—An anxious
Moment—“Aniwee is Well”—White Prisoners—A Calm—Safe 273–280
CHAPTER XXXII.
Terms of Peace—The Return of the Baguales—A great Peace—Freedom 281–284
CONCLUSION.
What followed—For the Sake of the Trauco Queen 285–286
[Illustration]
ANIWEE;
OR,
_THE WARRIOR QUEEN_.
A TALE OF THE ARAUCANIAN INDIANS AND THE MYTHICAL TRAUCO PEOPLE.
CHAPTER I.
Day was drawing to a close. The setting sun was glinting and gleaming on
the sparkling mica rocks, which border the deep gorges and high cliffs
of the gradually rising ground that leads upwards from the plains of
Geylum in Patagonia, to Las Manzanas in the territory of the Araucanian
or Warrior Indians. High above the mica rocks rise the hills that skirt
the Andes chain, and from the summit of these hills, the scene is one of
magnificence and glory.
So thought Aniwee, the youthful Warrior Queen, as she sat astride her
horse, and watched the sunlight streaking the Rio Limay far below, and
bathing in rose-coloured brilliance the snow-clad Cordilleras, which
look down on the wooded ranges of hills beneath them, and which contain
the splendid apple groves belonging to the great Manzaneros tribe.
When we last saw Aniwee she had just bidden Harry and Topsie Vane a
tender and pathetic farewell. Those who have perused the pages of “The
Young Castaways,” will remember that she was the only child and daughter
of Gilwinikush, head Cacique of the Tehuelches or Patagonian Indians,
and that at the age of fourteen and a half she had married Piñone, the
only son of the great Cuastral, Lord of the Araucanian, Manzaneros,
Chenna, or Warrior Indians. They will also remember how Aniwee had
distinguished herself, how she had won the proud titles of Huntress and
Warrior, and how at length she had become one of the Warrior tribe
herself.
But Aniwee’s spell of wedded life was brief. Scarce a year and a half
had passed away, when news was brought to her that Cuastral and Piñone
had been treacherously slain by a party of Argentines who had lured them
to attend an ostensible peace parliament, the Araucanians and
Argentines—or, as these latter were better known to the Indians, the
Cristianos—having previously been at war with one another.
Thus at the age of sixteen Aniwee had found herself deprived of her
dearly loved husband, and the mother of a little baby girl, his child
and hers. And so impressed were the Araucanians with their young Queen’s
sagacity, courage, and devotion to their interests, that they had,
without a dissentient voice, elected the child to be Cacique over them,
and appointed Aniwee, its mother, as Queen-Regent.
Surely this was a triumph for Aniwee. Barely over the age of sixteen,
and yet indeed a Warrior Queen—Queen of a mighty tribe, famed far and
wide for its valour and its deeds of daring and renown.
Yet was Aniwee equal to the occasion. Had she not Cuastral’s death and
her own Piñone’s death to avenge? Was not her beautiful adopted country
hemmed in on all sides by foes—Chilenos on the one hand, Argentines on
the other—and should she not fight to the very death in its defence? It
was a country well worth fighting for, extending from Las Manzanas on
the south to Mendoza far away in the north, and peopled by hundreds of
the great Warrior tribe, dwelling in fixed tolderias, many amidst the
rich groves of piñones, apples, and araucarias with which the country
abounded. Considerable wealth had fallen to her share when the Caciques’
deaths were announced, all of which she purposed holding for her child.
Large flocks and herds, stores of silver ornaments, immense troupiglias
of horses, and numberless ponchos, mantles, etc., were stored away
amongst her subjects and in their safe keeping. Her power was absolute,
her word law, her army efficient and devoted. Little had Aniwee dreamt,
only three years previously, when she chafed and fretted at her
seemingly useless life in the Patagonian toldos of her father
Gilwinikush, that in so short a time would she wield power over so
magnificent a people as the Araucanians.
She had ridden almost to the boundary line of Araucanian territory for
the fifth time that day, and had anxiously scanned the distant pampas of
Patagonia with the true, unerring eye of an Indian. The reason for this
was that ten days previously Aniwee had received joyous news, news which
had brought the blood rushing to her cheeks with glad surprise, news in
the shape of a letter from Harry and Topsie Vane, her dearly loved white
friends, in which they apprised her of their intention to proceed at
once to visit her, in the company of their uncle and aunt, Sir Francis
and Lady Vane, and their three cousins, Freddy, Willie, and Mary.
On receiving this news, Aniwee was hunting away in the distant hills
which fringe the Cordillera range beyond Las Manzanas, but immediately
calling together her followers, she bade them summon from different
parts three hundred picked warriors, and likewise gave orders to others
to proceed at once to Las Manzanas, and prepare there the fixed
tolderias for the reception of her white guests. Then Aniwee selected
fifty of her best horses, a fine herd of cattle, and a flock of sheep,
and sent them forward to the rendezvous, following herself with the
little baby Cacique, and attended by the three hundred picked warriors,
who had assembled quickly at her summons.
The letter from Harry and Topsie had been written from El Carmen or
Patagones on the Rio Negro, and Aniwee had calculated, that if they
started at once, they would reach Las Manzanas in ten days. She had sent
forward a small escort preceded by a Chasqui, and then settled down to
await their coming.
But when the day came for which she had timed their arrival, Aniwee grew
feverish with excitement. All the morning and afternoon she had watched
for her friends, but there were no signs of their coming. Then, as the
sun sunk low over the distant prairies and lit to radiance the snowy
Andes far away in the background, the youthful Queen aroused herself
from the reverie into which she had fallen, and gave one last glance
ahead. At once her dark eyes lit up with eagerness and expectation, a
happy smile parted her lips, a low, glad cry escaped them as she stood
straight up in her stirrups and waved a silken handkerchief around her
head. The next moment she unslung from off her shoulders a neat
Winchester repeater, and through the still evening air in quick
succession rung the sharp reports of the rifle. A pre-arranged signal,
evidently; for no sooner did these reports ring forth, than far down in
a valley beneath, a succession of bright fires began to shoot up, a
Union Jack flag floated from a high pole, and dusky forms came and went
amid the lurid glare.
Just a faint cloud on the pampa. That was all that Aniwee’s gaze had
rested upon, and yet her practised sight could not deceive her. She knew
full well that it heralded the approach of a party of mounted persons,
and Aniwee had not the slightest doubt as to who these persons were.
They were coming on at a smart pace, and the young Queen, after taking
stock of the distance which yet lay between her and her white friends,
turned her horse’s head in the direction of the Indian camp. A pretty
steep descent she had to make, too, in order to reach it; but her steed
was wary and sure-footed, and with the blood of the bagual or wild horse
in him, not likely to make a mistake.
On reaching the tolderias Aniwee found her warriors busy adorning
themselves with bright-coloured ponchos, and fastening on their silver
spurs. A troupiglia of horses had been driven up, and the owners were
picking out their steeds therefrom, and saddling and bridling them.
Each warrior carried a long lance, from the point of which a small
pennon fluttered, and many of the Caciques and Caciquillos were
conspicuous for the richness of their attire and the brightness of their
silver ornaments.
A small boy, gaudily dressed, was awaiting outside Aniwee’s tolderia,
and as she rode up respectfully held her bridle rein. As she sprung from
her horse, a young man stepped forward to meet her.
If abundance of fine clothes, gleaming ornaments, and jingling spurs can
make a man handsome in a woman’s eyes, then Inacayal might be styled
good-looking. Now Inacayal was a Cacique of high degree, being none
other than the son of Quintuhual, brother of the great Cuastral, and
therefore first cousin to Piñone, Aniwee’s dead husband. In the natural
course of events, and in accordance with the laws hitherto prevailing
amongst the Araucanians, Inacayal ought to have been proclaimed
paramount Cacique on the death of Cuastral and Piñone, inasmuch as this
latter’s child was _only a girl_. But the example of Aniwee had so
impressed the warriors, and both Piñone and Cuastral had been so highly
respected and loved by the great tribe, that by a vast majority this
people had declared that Guardia, Piñone’s baby girl, should reign over
them; and, as we have already seen, Aniwee had been appointed
Queen-Regent, with the full powers of an absolute Cacique.
Now this arrangement did not at all suit the ambition of Inacayal, who
had every desire to wield the power entrusted to Aniwee. Had not he,
Inacayal, accompanied Cuastral and Piñone on their great raid? Had he
not, with his own eyes, seen them treacherously killed, and their bodies
carried off by the Cristianos, and had he not brought back the news,
expecting to see himself at once proclaimed Cacique? His anger and
disappointment may well be imagined when affairs took the turn
described, and he found himself supplanted by a mere baby, and a girl.
But Inacayal, though he had thought it politic to assume an air of
submission and acquiescence, was far from feeling well disposed towards
Aniwee. Very bitterly did he resent her intrusion where he had hoped to
stand alone, and he had secretly made up his mind to work not only her
destruction, but that of the little Guardia as well. A very King John
was this crafty Inacayal.
“Do the friends of the Great Queen draw nigh?” he inquired, with a
smile, after saluting Aniwee Indian fashion, by raising his right hand,
shading his right eye, and touching his forehead with his thumb, middle,
and right fingers.
“Yes, Inacayal,” she answered, with a glad laugh, “and they will be here
ere the sun seeks its rest. Do you form up the companies of our warriors
while I deck myself as befits a Warrior Queen.”
The young man’s eyes sparkled with anger and rage at these words, but
deftly concealing his feelings, he again saluted respectfully and
retired, Aniwee passing into her own tolderia.
This erection stood some seventeen feet high, being spacious enough
inside to accommodate fifty persons. It was closed in all round by skin
coverings, the doorway being fronted by a curtain of gay-coloured silk.
All round the tolderia ran a kind of verandah, the canopy of which was
formed of interwoven branches covered with bright green leaves. A small
Union Jack flag ornamented the top of this structure, which inside
possessed an air of comfort and civilisation, quite strange to behold.
Several beds, made of the soft warm skins of the vicuña and guanaco, and
raised from the ground on neatly arranged blocks of wood, stood side by
side in line; and shields, bows and arrows, spears, guns and rifles,
puma, guanaco, and vicuña heads were tastefully and skilfully hung from
the woodwork and pine-posts, to which the hide walls of this spacious
dwelling were attached. Lying on one of these beds, and cosily wrapped
in a magnificent skunk and wild cat fur capa, was a little
copper-coloured baby, with large dark eyes and a solemn grave face. Its
tiny hands grasped two small silver bell ornaments, which they jingled
together unceasingly. Every now and then the baby would break into a
joyous laugh and crow with delight, sounds which instantly chased away
the solemn look on its face, and brought in its place a merry, happy
expression.
When Aniwee entered, baby at once dropped its playthings, and stretching
out its little arms to the girl, gave vent to sounds of delight, judging
by the smiles that wreathed its well-formed dark red lips. The young
Queen at once responded to its evident invitation to approach, and
crossing to the bed, lifted the tiny mite in her arms.
“Guardia, child of my heart,” she exclaimed tenderly, as the little
creature clasped her round the neck, “was Guardia looking for Mamita?”
Again the little Guardia crowed and laughed. She could not speak, being
barely eight months old, but she could show how much she loved her young
mother by the numberless caresses which she bestowed upon her.
Aniwee had however the important duty to perform of arraying herself in
warrior attire.
“Graviel,” she called; and as she spoke a tall slim Indian youth arose
from the side of the baby Cacique’s bed, by which he had been keeping
watch. Whenever Aniwee left the child she always placed it in the care
of this boy, for she knew that she could trust him. He had been Piñone’s
favourite attendant, and Graviel worshipped the very ground that Aniwee
trod on. He would have died before harm befel his charge.
“Graviel, take the Cacique,” observed Aniwee gravely, “and amuse her.”
The Indian youth obeyed, handling his baby chieftainess with the
greatest care, and in a few moments he had completely engrossed her
attention by singing to her in a low chanting voice.
Meanwhile Aniwee turned her attention to her attire. Drawing aside a
silken curtain, she entered an alcove in the tolderia, which was
reserved as her robing room, and was soon busy, aided by her Indian
women. When she issued therefrom she looked splendid indeed. A
magnificent crimson poncho hung over her shoulders adorned with
sparkling golden threads, and she had on snowy-white drawers and neat
potro boots, upon which silver spurs jingled. A short sword in a bright
silver scabbard hung by her side, and on her head, poised slightly on
one side, was a cap of crimson velvet encircled by a band of massive
silver, from which drooped two grey ostrich feathers. Decidedly Aniwee
looked very handsome, and every inch a Queen.
Under the soothing influence of Graviel’s chant the baby Queen had
fallen asleep, and lay peacefully in the arms of her faithful young
retainer. Bending over her, the girl mother imprinted a gentle kiss on
her forehead. Even as she did so, the far-off sound of a bugle-call
penetrated to the tolderia, and brought Aniwee at once to attention.
“Quick, Graviel!” she exclaimed. “Take the Cacique to Blancha, and bid
her put the child to rest, and do you keep watch on the tolderia. Yonder
bugle heralds the approach of the great British Caciques, whom Aniwee
must hasten to welcome.”
A loud shout from three hundred warrior throats greeted her appearance.
A milk-white horse waited her in front of the tolderia. In a moment
Aniwee was in the saddle, and looking eagerly ahead. Ah! yes, indeed,
her white friends were near. There was no mistaking Harry Vane’s loud
and familiar “whoo whoop.” The next instant the white horse swept up the
valley at full speed in the van of three hundred shouting warriors,
brandishing their spears, firing off their guns, and charging upon the
advancing party.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]