At the sound of it, the face of every Indian lit up with hope and joy,
while despair rushed quickly to the hearts of the Cristianos. Full well
they knew that terrible war-whoop, the precursor of a charge from the
disciplined and valorous warriors of Cuastral. As these came streaming
across the plain with their lances set and ready for action, the white
men knew that the day was lost. Some essayed flight, but watchful
Tehuelches pursued them, and brought them back prisoners, and then it
was that Gilwinikush remembered Sir Francis Vane’s advice.
In a moment he resolved to act upon it, and rode forward at once to meet
the Indian warriors of Cuastral.
As they came forward, they could see his tall form sitting motionless on
his horse with his hand raised. This made them slacken their pace, until
at length they halted in a long line before him.
“Warriors,” he exclaimed, “the great white Caciques, the Indians’
friends, are here, and the head Cacique counsels you to surround the
Cristianos and make them prisoners. He is right; for shall we not have
more power over living men in our possession, than with cold clay?”
The advice was sound, but many of the new-comers were young and ardent,
and longed to gain their laurels in a fight. So they received
Gilwinikush’s suggestion with shouts of disapproval, which were,
however, quickly silenced as Piñone galloped up. A few words from the
Tehuelche chief sufficed to convey to him the situation. Then he, too,
faced his people.
“Warriors!” he cried, “has not Gilwinikush fought the hated enemy on our
ground, on our behalf, and shall we scout advice from our best friends?
Not so. Piñone bids ye charge and surround the Cristianos, and he will
give a horse in exchange for every prisoner.”
As he spoke the Araucanian warrior turned, and with Gilwinikush charged
straight upon the scene of battle. But as they reached it, the sharp
order was passed along the ranks of Araucanians to open and surround,
and like magic it was done. The effect, too, was magical; the Cristianos
saw it was hopeless to resist, and their leader bade them surrender, an
order they were not loth to obey. But one of the Cristianos apparently
did not heed this command. He was engaged in fierce combat with an
Araucanian youth, who parried his furious blows with a strange skill. It
seemed as though both had resolved that one or the other must die, so
obstinately and determinedly did both dispute the struggle for mastery.
“It is Graviel!” exclaimed Piñone, as he eyed the combatants. “The boy
fights well. Yet, have I not given the order to desist fighting? Has not
the chief spoken? Why does the warrior disobey?”
He rode towards the fighting men as he spoke, his eyes keenly roving the
battle field. Then for the first time he missed Aniwee.
Again his eyes scoured the plain. But ten minutes since, and he had seen
her well, and in good fighting trim, but now he could see her nowhere.
Then an anxious expression stole across his face, and a troubled look
settled in his roving eyes.
“Aniwee,” he murmured, “where art thou?”
Unconsciously he quickened his pace, and came up with the combatants
just as the seeming Cristiano, rushing at Graviel, had thrown his long
arms round the slim youth’s form, and borne him from his horse by
spurring his own forward. Quick as lightning, however, a knife flashed
out in the hand of the young Araucanian, and before his assailant could
disarm him, he had plunged it into that assailant’s breast.
With a yell of agony Graviel’s antagonist let go his hold. Not so the
former, however, for seizing the wounded man round the neck, he dragged
him from his horse, and the two rolled struggling to the ground.
In a moment Piñone was off his steed and bending over them. As he did
so, he started back as if an adder had stung him. The next instant,
however, he had swung his axe above his head, and brought it with fierce
force upon the skull of Graviel’s foe. This settled for good and aye the
life for which that foe was struggling. The victim relaxed his grasp of
the Araucanian, his teeth became clenched, and he fell back dead. In
that moment his features became disclosed, revealing those of Inacayal.
“So perish the traitor and serpent,” burst from Piñone’s lips, as he
bent over Graviel and raised him up.
For a moment the youth appeared dazed, but quickly recovering himself,
he looked anxiously around.
“Where is she?” he cried in a piteous voice. “Oh, Cacique! say she is
well.”
“She! who, Graviel?” asked Piñone, trembling.
“The Queen, Cacique. Do I not mean the Queen, whom yon creeping thief
struck down, and would have murdered as she lay helpless under his
horse’s feet, had the good Gualichu not guided my footsteps to the
rescue?”
As he spoke, the clatter of horse’s hoofs sounded near them, and looking
in the direction whence the sound came, the two Indians beheld Harry and
Topsie galloping to meet them. A few minutes later, and both pulled up
some fifty yards away, and dismounted beside a motionless figure, which
was lying stretched out in a narrow canon, and concealed from view. The
motionless figure was Aniwee.
Kneeling down beside the young Queen, Topsie raised her head, and looked
long and anxiously into her pretty dark face. Aniwee’s eyes were wide
open, her white teeth were clenched, and every muscle seemed rigid.
In a moment Piñone and Graviel were beside her, horror and despair in
their eyes.
“Graviel, get water, quick!” commanded Topsie authoritatively, and as
the youth rushed off, she sat down on the ground and took Aniwee’s head
in her lap.
“Piñone,” she said gently, “keep up thy heart; she is not dead, only
stunned. I saw yon villain strike her, but he never touched her
afterwards, for Graviel rushed in and engaged him. Water will bring her
round in a very short time, you will see.”
And when Graviel came back with a plentiful supply in his skin potro
top-boot, she took some in her mouth and blew it into Aniwee’s face,
repeating the operation several times. And an unfailing cure—as she knew
it to be—it proved on this occasion, for in a few minutes the Indian
girl moved, her teeth unclosed, and the light of intelligence came back
into her eyes. She at once recognised Piñone, and smiled.
“Fear not,” she said in a weak, faint voice, “Aniwee is well.”
“She said no more, for Piñone had her in his arms, and was pressing her
to his heart, while a smothered sob burst from Graviel.
“Now, Piñone, you must not squeeze the little breath she has got left in
her, entirely out of her body,” put in Topsie, laughing. “You must give
Aniwee to me to look after, while you go and see to your prisoners. You
will find the head white Caciques with Gilwinikush, and they will need
you. Trust Aniwee to me.”
“I am well, quite well,” exclaimed Aniwee, as Piñone set her down, but
there was a dazed look in her eyes, which showed she was not altogether
recovered.
Her horse was grazing near, and Topsie directed Piñone to lift her upon
it, and then she and Harry mounted, and placed themselves on either side
of her to be ready to support her in case of need.
Piñone, seeing he could be of no further use, and implicitly trusting in
Topsie’s power to completely cure his treasure, after signing to Graviel
to follow him, rode off quickly to rejoin Gilwinikush.
The white prisoners had all surrendered and been disarmed when he rode
up, and had likewise had their horses taken from them. When joined by
Piñone, Gilwinikush was busy forming them into a column, thirty deep,
around which the Araucanian warriors were massed to guard them.
As Las Manzanas was within a few miles of their present position, it was
hastily agreed to send on the prisoners to that place, and Gilwinikush,
while electing to accompany Piñone and the remaining Araucanians,
decided to send back the greater part of his Tehuelche followers to the
valley camp, in order to guard against an entry into Patagonia from that
side.
It was judged prudent not to send for the baby Cacique while hostilities
continued. She was safer in Keoken’s keeping than she could be amongst a
lot of warriors, and Aniwee’s heart was quite at rest about her.
Chasquis, in the persons of Chorlo and Coquet, had been sent on by
Piñone to the Araucanian camp, whence the rescue party had started in
search of La Guardia Chica so many weeks before, and they were charged
to fully report all that had happened during that time to Cuastral, as
well as the results of the battle, which had just taken place, the death
of Inacayal, and the valuable capture of prisoners. Piñone further
requested that Cuastral would at once join him at Las Manzanas, there to
discuss terms of peace with the Cristiano leader, Sir Francis having
offered to act as mediator between the rival people.
That night, therefore, our white friends found themselves seated around
a roaring camp fire, in front of the same tolderias which they had
occupied on the first night of their arrival in the land of the
Araucanians. Aniwee had been “put to bed,” so to say. That is, she had
been relegated to a couch in her tolderia, and ordered by doctor Topsie
to lie quite still, her head being bandaged up with cold water. Piñone
was in constant attendance, and Blancha never left her side, while
Graviel hovered about anxious and depressed.
They were discussing a fine steak of ostrich picane, several of these
fleet birds having been bolased that day, and consequently tasted for
the first time by Sir Francis, Lady Vane, and their children, though to
Harry and Topsie they were of course no strangers. Every one pronounced
the meat delicious, and supper was appreciated that night more than it
ever had been during their wanderings. A strange rest had settled upon
every one, and the quiet which reigned was doubly felt after the
excitement and turmoil of that eventful day. The prisoners were all
bivouacked in the neighbourhood of a thick copse, and were liberally
provided with meat at the earnest request of Sir Francis, who had begged
that they might be properly treated. But around them Araucanian warriors
kept stern watch, the sentinels being replaced every three hours.
“Heigh ho!” exclaimed Harry, as the time arrived for turning in. “We
have had a jolly time of it, and no mistake. I’ve enjoyed our trip
uncommonly. Won’t I spin the fellows a yarn when I rejoin my ship!”
“And draw the long bow, too,” laughed Mary, as she dived into her
tolderia, and evaded the pretended blow which her cousin levelled at her
with his clenched fist.
Thus night fell upon Las Manzanas and the safe return of our white
friends.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]