“The Trauco people!” exclaimed Topsie, into whose mind those words
infused a flood of meaning. During her wanderings in Patagonia she had
often heard the Indians speak with awe of these wild beings, in whose
existence they implicitly believed, but both she and Harry had always
laughed at the idea, and declared that the Trauco must be a species of
large ape; and this belief had more than ever been confirmed in their
minds, by the descriptions given to them by their old hermit uncle, of
those “demons of the Andes” who had guarded the great gold mine of Or.
But between the demons and these hairy people a wide gulf of difference
yawned, and for the first time Topsie found the word Trauco impressed
upon her as the name of a reality of the human species, instead of a
mythical ape.
“But, Piñone, how did you get here?” she again inquired in a low voice.
“Aniwee and the Araucanians think you dead. After the raid made by you
and Cuastral on the Cristianos, Inacayal returned, saying he had seen
your dead bodies.”
“Son of a serpent!” hissed the young Indian between his teeth; “and they
have elected him Cacique in Cuastral’s place!”
“Not so, Piñone,” answered Topsie quickly. “The Araucanians have made
your little daughter, ‘La Guardia Chica,’ Queen, and Aniwee reigns as
Queen-Regent. They call her the Warrior Queen, and there is hardly an
Araucanian who would not die for her and for the child of Piñone, whose
name as well as his father’s is still sung and remembered by them. But
how did you and Cuastral get here?”
“It is a story which will occupy some time in telling,” replied the
young Cacique; “but first tell me how you have had the ill-luck to
become a Trauco’s prisoner.”
“Well, Piñone, it is just this. I and my brother, whom you remember, as
well as the tallest of the three Caciques who found us in Patagonia,
together with his wife and three children, formed a party to visit
Aniwee. In due course we arrived at Las Manzanas, where she welcomed us
at the head of three hundred warriors. But even while she was in the act
of receiving us the camp was attacked by a body of Cristianos, who
endeavoured to carry off the baby Cacique. The child was, however, saved
by Graviel, and defended by the few men and women left in camp, till the
Queen came to the rescue. A fierce fight ensued. Many of the Cristianos
were killed, and the remainder put to flight. Aniwee fought as befitted
a Warrior Queen.
“This morning at an early hour we struck tolderias, and marched inland
to a beautiful camping ground, which Aniwee said she loved best, because
it had been your favourite resting spot. A troupiglia of baguales having
been reported, we set forth to try and capture some. During the
confusion of a general _mêlée_, I managed to lasso the leader of the
troop, who gave me a terrible long gallop, and at length entered a big
forest which bounded the plain across which we had raced. I must have
been knocked from my horse and stunned, for I remember no more until I
came to and found myself in the power of a Trauco. Since then we have
travelled far, and here I am, as you perceive, Piñone. But I do not
despair, for my dog Shag is missing, and I firmly believe that he has
gone for help, and will pilot my brother and the others to the rescue.”
Piñone smiled bitterly. “You do not know the Trauco people,” he replied;
“they have caves and inaccessible retreats far and near. An attempt made
to rescue you would simply result in your being carried off and confined
in one of these caves, where no mortal power could reach you. No; escape
is the only hope. If we can steal away in the dark, and secrete
ourselves, we might manage to obtain our freedom; and it is strange that
both Cuastral and myself had made up our minds to attempt flight this
very night—and lo! you come upon us.”
“What, Piñone! You are going to try and escape from these people in a
strange country without arms, and without a knowledge of your
whereabouts?” inquired the girl anxiously. “Surely you will fail, be
tracked, and again taken prisoners. Have you tried it before? If so,
being still here, you must have learnt the hopelessness of the attempt.”
“We tried to escape once, and once only, and we were recaptured and
taken far from the spot,” answered the young chief. “I will tell all to
you if you like to hear the story. The sun is not yet set, and the
feeding hour is still some time distant. Would the Señorita like to
hear?”
“Yes, Piñone, indeed I would,” exclaimed Topsie eagerly. “Speak quickly,
and tell me all.”
“Many suns have come and gone,” began the Araucanian, “since my father
Cuastral, accompanied by myself and five hundred warriors, set out for
the frontier, across which the Cristianos dwell. As you know well, we
were at war with them because they wished to steal not only the Indian’s
land, but the Indian himself. We swept the frontier in a succession of
raids, and, loaded with booty, had encamped on Patagonian territory,
secure, as we thought, from reprisal or surprise. Yet treachery lurked
around us. News was brought to me that not far away a small party of
Cristianos were dogging and watching our movements. Both Cuastral and
myself thought well to fall upon them and drive them from our path.
Inacayal, who had brought the information, offered to act as spy, and he
was entrusted with the task of watching and reporting. One day he came
riding into camp, with the information that the Cristianos had retired
across the frontier, and were engaged in drinking and gaming in the
Bahia settlement, which consists of a few huts erected amidst a dark
wood. We at once arranged to surprise them, and for that purpose
selected sixty of our most skilled warriors, amongst whom was Inacayal.
To be brief, we fell upon them, as we believed, unawares, but at once
perceived that we had been caught in a trap, for we were surrounded by
some four or five hundred Cristianos, who lay concealed in the wood, and
the greater number of our brave warriors were slain. Cuastral and myself
were overwhelmed and taken prisoners. We were carried away to the
settlements, where we were kept closely confined. At the expiration of
four or five days we were blindfolded, had our hands tied behind us, and
were placed on horses, being securely guarded all the time. We journeyed
for several days in this manner, arriving at last on the outskirts of a
great forest, where, still blindfolded, we were removed from our horses
and securely lashed to some trees. For several hours we remained thus,
helpless and confined, when suddenly we felt ourselves being released,
and the handkerchiefs removed from our eyes. Terrible was our anguish
when we found ourselves surrounded by five or six tall hairy men, who,
having released us, took us by the hands, and compelled us to accompany
them. These men were Traucos, and with them and others of their tribe we
have dwelt and wandered through many a long and weary day amidst the
haunted mountains and gloomy woods, sighing for the bright plains and
lovely valleys where the Araucanian dwells in plenty and happiness. Once
only we attempted escape, but were recaptured, conveyed up a dark
flowing river, and confined for many days in a dreary cavern. But hist!
close your eyes, and feign sleep, for the Trauco is approaching, with
suspicion in his eyes.”
Quick as lightning Topsie did as she was bid, and the Trauco on coming
to her side found her, to all appearance, asleep. Piñone made pretence
to be lazily peeling some bark off a small branch which he held in his
hand, and Cuastral, to all intents, like Topsie, was indulging in a
peaceful doze.
Satisfied with his inspection the Trauco withdrew, and Topsie and the
old chief were free to reopen their eyes. They judged it, however,
prudent to preserve the same attitudes, for fear of another inspection.
“And now,” continued Piñone, “will not the white Cacique join in our
flight this night? It is arranged that we steal forth silently when all
are asleep, make our way across the valley and into the forest opposite,
travelling as far as we can till light dawns, and then secreting
ourselves as best we may till the return of night. There is a chance of
escape. From what you tell me, we are no more than two days’ march from
the land of Cuastral, and such an opportunity may never present itself
again. Piñone has spoken.”
“But how can I join you?” inquired Topsie anxiously. “I shall probably
be confined in a different hut to you.”
“No,” answered Cuastral, who here interposed; “the Trauco never mixes
with his captives; and as there are only four huts, you will assuredly
be placed in the one which I and my son occupy. Say, O white Cacique,
will you join with us in our attempt to regain the freedom that we
crave?”
“I will,” answered Topsie, screwing up her courage to make the desperate
attempt.
“It is well,” replied the Cacique laconically; “midnight will be the
hour.”
A whistle at this juncture sounded, and the two Araucanians at once
arose and walked over to where the Traucos were seated, receiving from
one of them several apples, araucarias, piñones, and strips of dried
meat, with which they retired to their hut. At the same time Topsie’s
captor came over to where she lay with her portion in his hands, and
after handing it to her laid his hand gently on her arm, and drew her
towards the hut occupied by Cuastral. With a feeling of relief the girl
obeyed his unmistakable sign to enter it, and her relief was shared by
her companions in misfortune.
They made a hearty meal, not knowing when they might taste food again,
and then all three lay down apparently to rest. Really tired and worn
out, Topsie soon fell asleep. No sham about it on this occasion; and
when about an hour later the Trauco made his last rounds of inspection,
he found her buried in a profound slumber, with Cuastral and Piñone
apparently fast asleep beside her. Uttering a low purr of content, the
Trauco withdrew, and entered his own dwelling.
It must have been midnight, when Topsie was awakened by a hand being
laid across her mouth. So startled was she, that she would have cried
out, only the hand prevented her from doing so. Suddenly recollection
came to her aid, and she then remembered the desperate enterprise upon
which she and her companions were bent.
“Follow me,” whispered Piñone, as soon as he perceived that she was
quite awake; and one by one the three captives stole forth into the cold
midnight air. As noiselessly as possible they traversed the open space
in which the huts were situated, and entered the forest at the same
place from where Topsie had first espied them. Thence they rapidly
descended towards the plain. How the girl’s heart beat! She could hear
it sounding like a hammer in her ears, and a cold sweat broke out all
over her, as a night jar shrieked forth its warning, gruesome note. The
Indians looked startled, for the night jar was regarded by their tribe
as an ill-omened bird, whose note predicted evil, and whose presence was
the herald of misfortune. Still they kept on their path, and after a
time reached the valley for which they had been making.
They crossed it at as rapid a rate as the darkness permitted, and in
about half an hour reached the opposite forest. But here their worst
difficulties began. It was pitch dark, and the undergrowth was so thick,
that to make headway was almost impossible. Topsie at once perceived
that there was not the slightest hope of her finding the tracks, which
the two Traucos had made that morning, and that all they could do was to
work their way forward as rapidly as the dense undergrowth permitted.
But even as they struggled along the blood froze in her veins, as a loud
trumpeting sound came floating across the valley in the still night air.
“It is the Trauco!” gasped Cuastral, in a despairing voice. “They have
discovered our flight, and are in pursuit. We must separate, and seek
shelter in the densest brushwood possible, and lie as quiet as the dead,
without movement and without sound. Child of my heart, may the Great
Spirit hide thee and guide thee back to Aniwee.”
These last words were addressed exclusively by the chief to his son. For
a moment the two held each other’s hands, and then they parted, each
fugitive taking a different direction.
The trumpeting noise, evidently one of anger, was getting nearer, and
Topsie, having struggled forward a short distance, crept beneath the
thick underwood, in the faint hope that the darkness would screen her
from observation. Vain indeed! She had been hardly a quarter of an hour
in her nook of refuge, when she heard strong breathing not far off. It
came nearer and nearer, the crashing of a heavy tread sounded beside
her, and a minute later she was in the grasp of her pursuer, the same
Trauco who had made her captive the day before.
Dawn was breaking in the heavens when he bore her back to her prison on
the forest slope beneath the Andes heights. Almost heart-broken, Topsie
threw herself down outside her hut, and gave way to a passionate burst
of weeping. She must have sobbed herself to sleep, for when she awoke
the sun was scorching down upon her, and the Traucos were dozing under
the shade of their huts. Several were absent, however, and looking all
round she could make out no sign of Cuastral or Piñone. Could it be that
they had escaped? She must have dozed again, when she was suddenly
awakened by the sound of a familiar voice. There could be no mistaking
it. A flood of joy rushed over her. For a moment a vision of glory
gladdened her eyes. On the edge of the forest she could see her brother,
her uncle and aunt, her cousin Freddy, Aniwee, and Shag. In an instant
she had sprung to her feet and raced to meet them. But even as she sped
along she heard the swift tread of the Trauco beside her. She felt
herself once more seized and lifted from the ground, and helpless in his
powerful grasp she felt herself borne away from the freedom which she
had all but grasped once more.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]