We must return to the Indian camp, where Lady Vane and Freddy had left
Mary and Willie when starting to join Sir Francis and Harry on the
borders of the forest. As may be imagined, the two younger children were
not over-pleased at being left behind. They were, to begin with, very
unhappy about their cousin, and longed to take part in the search for
her, and the suspense which they suffered, and which they felt they
would continue to suffer, was very great. However, as Lady Vane pointed
out to them, some one must remain in camp to look after the things; and
this giving our young friends somewhat of an air of importance, they
resigned themselves to the position, wisely resolving to make the best
of it, and do their duty under the circumstances. They had made friends
with Blancha and Graviel, both of whom could speak Spanish, and this
latter had returned to the head toldo on receiving from Aniwee the
guardianship of the baby Cacique, Inacayal, as we have already seen,
being placed in command during the Queen-Regent’s absence.
But Aniwee had hardly departed, when a war messenger rode into camp, to
announce that hostilities had broken out some twenty miles north, and
that he had been sent to implore immediate help.
In the natural course of events, if Aniwee had been in camp, she would
have proceeded at once to the relief of her people, and therefore it was
not thought strange when Inacayal gave orders that every warrior, save
those who had been wounded in the fray of the previous night, should get
ready in haste, and be prepared to accompany him at short notice on his
northward march against the foe.
As may be imagined, therefore, the Indian camp was denuded of its
warriors, and left practically defenceless. No one thought anything of
this, as the only foes they had to dread were the Cristianos, and these
never attempted to penetrate deeply into Araucanian territory, always
attacking its frontier or border line, with the object of driving back
the tribes into the forest recesses.
But before taking his departure, Inacayal in the privacy of his toldo
held the following strange conversation with one Guaitu, an Araucanian
Caciquillo, whom he had appointed to command the camp during his
absence, and in that of the Queen’s.
“The baby is safe in your keeping, Guaitu?” he inquired anxiously.
“Safe as though a Trauco held it,” answered the Caciquillo.
“The exchange must be effected to-night,” continued Inacayal in a low
voice. “Never will the Gualichu give us such a chance again. Be wary,
Guaitu; all depends on thy cunning and address.”
“Guaitu will not fail,” answered the Indian, with a leer. “Ere the sun
comes back again, La Guardia Chica will be far away.”
“It is well, Guaitu. Inacayal can put his faith in thee,” exclaimed the
Cacique joyfully, as he turned to leave the toldo.
Outside, his war-horse stood ready, and the chief, mounting hastily,
departed, followed by over five hundred warriors, many of whose homes
lay in the threatened north, and who were therefore anxious to set forth
to its rescue or defence, as the case might be.
It wanted several hours to sunset, and Mary and Willie employed the time
in wandering about the camp, making friends with the women, children,
and animals, which appeared to abound in every direction, picking out
here and there one of the former who could speak Spanish, and with whom,
in consequence, conversation was possible. Meanwhile Guaitu, in his
position of commander, was going the rounds of the camp, looking into
the toldos, and assuring himself that all was snug and in order for the
night. He was followed by an Indian lad carrying a large skin of
spirits, out of which Guaitu was pleased to give to every man and woman
whom he visited a small draught, telling them that Inacayal had left it,
that they might drink to the health and success of the warriors, whom he
was leading against the foe.
Unsuspectingly, every one accepted the proffered draught. The Indians
are fond of, and will rarely refuse an offer of spirits. How could they
know that the traitor Guaitu had previously drugged this liquor, so that
soon after taking it they would sleep heavily and without danger of
awakening? They could not know it, of course; yet such had been done by
Inacayal’s scheming tool. When the conspirator arrived at the chief
tolderia he paused and listened. Blancha was singing in a low voice to
the baby Queen, and he could hear the measured breathing of poor
Graviel, whom the woman had bidden sleep while she watched beside his
little charge. Lifting the skin flap which covered the opening to the
tolderia, Guaitu entered with a soft smile, and an air of interested
solicitude on his face.
“Is all well with the young Cacique?” he inquired softly; yet quietly as
he spoke the sound aroused Graviel, who started up from the skin couch
on which he lay and stared at the intruder, at the same time grasping
his spear.
“Ah! no fear, Graviel,” said Guaitu soothingly. “There is no harm
intended;” and he proceeded to explain to the youth how Inacayal had
departed with all the warriors, leaving the camp in his charge.
“And he bade me bring to you and Blancha a draught of war cordial, and
bid you drink to the health and success of the Queen’s warriors and the
defeat of her foes,” continued Guaitu cunningly. Now, neither Blancha
nor Graviel desired the draught, but to have refused it would have been
to lay themselves open to the charge of desiring evil to the warriors of
their tribe, therefore they accepted it as had done the others, and
drank, as they had been requested to do, to the health and success of
the warriors and to the defeat of the Queen’s foes. This was exactly
what Guaitu desired; and as he watched the cordial go down, he chuckled
to himself ominously, and muttered the words, “All goes well.” Then he
bent over the baby Cacique, who had sunk into a peaceful sleep. “How
quietly she lies,” he said a little anxiously. “You are sure, Blancha,
that all is well with her?”
“Ay, all is well,” answered the girl curtly. She did not love Guaitu,
and he knew it.
“Then watch her carefully, girl,” he continued as he turned to go. “If
evil befel the little Cacique in the absence of the Warrior Queen and
Inacayal, heavy would be the blame that Guaitu would have to bear.”
“Have no fear,” answered the Indian girl coldly. “In our care the
Guardia Chica is safe.”
Alas! Blancha could not look into the future and see what was coming.
She was haughty and confident in her own powers and those of Graviel to
protect and guard their precious charge.
The sun went down, and everything became hushed in the Indian camp.
Sleep held its reign over all.
After Guaitu had quitted the tolderia, Blancha had made up the fire that
burnt therein, and again importuned Graviel to snatch a few hours’
sleep. She was not tired, she affirmed, and would hold the first watch,
awaking him later on to take up the second. In her heart, however, the
Indian girl had resolved to take the whole watch upon herself, and thus
afford the wounded youth the rest he so sorely needed; and Graviel,
yielding to her entreaties, had consented to her proposal, and the
drugged draught quickly taking effect, he was soon plunged in a profound
and heavy slumber. And as she sat and watched beside the baby Queen, a
strange drowsiness crept over the Indian girl Blancha. It came upon her
so suddenly, that she yielded to its influence without being aware of
doing so. Her eyes closed, her head fell forward on her chest, and, like
Graviel, her slumber was heavy and profound.
Then a creeping figure stole noiselessly into the tolderia, carrying
something in its arms. The figure was Guaitu’s. In a moment he made his
way to the little Queen’s couch, laid amongst the warm skins a tiny baby
of the same age as the Guardia Chica, and dressed in every respect in
the same manner. Then he seized hold of the baby Cacique, stifled the
piteous cry to which she tried to give vent, and like lightning vanished
from the tolderia. It was all the work of a few seconds. The exchange
had been deftly and quickly made, and no one had witnessed the deed.
Daylight had begun to glimmer in the heavens when Blancha awoke with a
start. The child by her side was crying, and she sprung towards it with
a terrible foreboding of evil. Her head ached, and she felt dull and
heavy; but she shook herself, and tried to free herself from the stupor,
which still seemed to cling to her brain. On his couch Graviel lay
sleeping. The child’s cries appeared to make no impression upon him,
which seemed to her to be a most unusual thing. She bent over the baby
and took it in her arms. The poor little thing felt cold, and she
bitterly reproached herself for her neglect. The fire, though it had
burnt low, was not out, and she stirred the embers and put on some dry
logs, and fanned the former until they ignited with the fresh fuel and
burst out into flame. Then she sat down by the fire and laid the baby on
her lap, and strove tardily to repair for her neglect of the child.
Suddenly, however, a loud cry echoed throughout the tolderia, arousing
even the dulled senses of poor Graviel. Springing towards Blancha, who
had fallen on her knees, and was moaning bitterly with her head bowed in
her clasped hands, he excitedly inquired of her what was the matter. A
child’s whining lament sounded from one of the corners of the toldo, and
looking that way, he perceived what appeared to him to be the baby
person of the child Cacique.
With an exclamation of anger he rushed towards it, but as he did so, he
heard Blancha call out to him in a voice of anguish not to touch it.
“It is not La Guardia Chica, Graviel,” she wailed in heart-broken
accents. “The Cacique is not here; she has been stolen, and that child
of a viper has been put in her place.”
“Treason!” shouted Graviel, rushing from the tent, and he commenced to
call aloud for assistance. His cries attracted Mary and Willie, who
hurried to his side, and a few minutes later Guaitu came running up.
“What ails Graviel?” he inquired angrily; “and why these wild cries
outside the tolderia of the head Cacique? Art thou mad, boy?”
Graviel turned fiercely towards him. “Where is the head Cacique?” he
demanded furiously. “She has been stolen, and a child of a creeping
viper put in her place. Where is everybody? Why is all silent and dead
in the camp? Why do children only show themselves? Where are the women,
the warriors, and the rest?”
“Thy brain is troubled, Graviel. Dost thou not recall last night’s
events, when Inacayal and his warriors departed to fight the hated
Cristianos on the northern borders? All are gone save the women,
children, and the wounded men. So this is how thou hast safeguarded thy
charge; and how will Aniwee greet thee on her return?”
A low wail of intense anguish burst from the young Indian, and he
covered his face with his hand. But here Mary interposed, and questioned
Graviel in Spanish as to what had happened.
No sooner had the miserable youth explained the situation, than the
quick-witted girl made up her mind as to the course to be adopted.
“Graviel,” she exclaimed, “we must mount and scour the country all
around. Maybe we shall obtain traces of the lost child. At least, let us
try. Both I and my brother will accompany you, and do all we can to help
you in this moment of fearful trial. Will you see to the horses being
saddled? And meanwhile we will get ready our guns and ammunition. But
haste, Graviel; let us not waste a moment.”
Still dazed and suffering from the drug which had been administered to
him overnight, Graviel hurried off, and summoning several boys to his
assistance, sent them to drive up the troupiglia of horses that grazed
not far off. Quickly three of them were caught and saddled, and led
round to the chief tolderia, where Mary and Willie stood ready equipped
for the expedition.
Inside the moans of Blancha could still be heard, mingled with the
feeble cries of the poor little substituted baby, who had been made the
innocent tool of the wicked Inacayal’s ambition. Guaitu was hurrying to
and fro, arousing the still sleeping camp, and making a great show of
grief and consternation, which he was far from feeling, and endeavouring
to collect volunteers to accompany him in a search expedition, which he
knew perfectly well beforehand would prove futile.
In the midst of the confusion caused by his announcement, Graviel,
Willie, and Mary rode out of the camp, bent on a search which had all
the appearance of a forlorn hope.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]