_FOR LIFE OR DEATH._
For some few days the work of building progressed merrily enough.
The seemingly ubiquitous Montoro Diego, with his beautiful voice,
his bright eyes, and his untiring activity, inspired the whole party
with a portion of his own spirit; and his grateful native friend, the
mother of his small patient, proved of the greatest comfort to the new
colonists by keeping them plentifully supplied with fruit, fish, birds,
and food cooked after the native fashion, but very acceptable to men
who had lived hardly too long to be fastidious. Besides, they were
very desirous of sparing as much as possible their own small remaining
stores of biscuit, cheese, wine, oil, and vinegar, of which the Admiral
could only leave so small a quantity for the civilized provision of the
colony.
At the outset of the new undertaking, others besides the mother of the
child had shown most hospitable alacrity in bringing gifts for the
white strangers' larder; but by degrees these gifts ceased, and at
last, whilst all the others of the Spaniards still looked gay enough,
Montoro's face began to grow very grave. He still had many good things
brought to him, but he noticed that they began to be brought with an
air of secresy, and at last the poor creature proved her gratitude by
giving him signs as plainly as she dared, that Quibian, the Cacique of
Veragua, was not altogether so friendly as he seemed.
"It was not his own gold mines, but those of a dreaded neighbour chief,
that he had pointed out to the Spaniards on their first arrival," she
declared; "and now he was noting with jealous eyes, and an angry heart,
the preparations of the white strangers for taking up their abode on
his territories."
Poor Cacique! Had he known the dismal fate that was so speedily to
overwhelm him and all he cherished, his jealousy and wrath must have
burnt with a fierceness to consume his heart. But for the moment the
Spaniards were but a handful of men in an unknown and populous country;
moreover, the water in the river had fallen, dry weather had set in,
and threatened to continue, the bar at the river's mouth was visible at
low tide, and the ships were shut in beyond the possibility of present
escape. It behoved the Admiral and his band of followers to be careful,
and each individual felt it incumbent on him personally to watch for
the safety of all; even to sleep, as the saying is, like a dog with one
eye open.
Under these circumstances it is little wonder that Mendez noticed with
some uneasiness the unusual gravity of Montoro's face one morning,
after a short interview with his Indian patient, and the child's
mother.
"Hey, then, master Long-face" he exclaimed, with half-affected gaiety,
"say, what treason is it thou hast been concocting with thy dark friend
yonder? Hath she been offering thee the kingdom of the Cacique Quibian,
if thou wilt engage to share the throne with her?"
Montoro threw back his head for an instant haughtily. Boy as he was,
he did not like such jests. But he too much admired Diego Mendez for
his anger against him to be long-lived. Besides, he had a weight upon
his mind of which he desired to unburden himself. After the momentary
pause, he said hastily--
"The woman's communication, Señor Mendez, had no reference to me
further than as I am one of us. But if I at all rightly comprehend her
signs, this Quibian, the Cacique of Veragua, under his smoothness to us
has designs of the deepest treachery. Even now I believe that we are
being surrounded on all sides by his warriors."
Señor Mendez stroked his chin thoughtfully. To say truth, he was deeply
startled by the suspicion thus presented to him; but he was a Spaniard,
and therefore chary of displays of any other emotion than that of
pride. Moreover, he was a notary by profession, and had thus learnt
caution: to hear all he could, to see all he could, to think much, and
to say little.
His meditations were undisturbed by Montoro. At last he took the boy by
the arm, leading him farther away from their companions before he said
quietly--
"You have done well, my namesake, in bringing your tale to me. Let it
rest there for the present, and see that you show the woman no great
belief of her news, and no shadow even of a fear."
"But--" began Montoro eagerly, and then he stopped as suddenly as he
had begun.
His companion looked at him doubtfully.
"Well, Diego, 'but' what? Wouldst say thy fears are too strong to be
dissembled?"
"Even so," was the startling answer, with flushed cheeks, but with such
a bold, brave look in the uplifted eyes that the unexpected reply was
still more bewildering.
"Nay, then; thou art audacious enough in confessing cowardice,"
ejaculated the notary, with eyes so widening with wonder that they
seemed to monopolize his face.
Just a flash of a smile shot across Montoro's face at having for once
thus overbalanced the self-possession of the shrewd man of business.
But he replied almost in the same moment--
"In truth, Señor, I can afford to be bold in confessing to these fears,
seeing that they are not for myself, but for others, and for the
honour of our expedition. Verily I think that it would break our great
Admiral's heart, should terrible mischance happen to us who are with
him now in his neglected, sorely-tried old age. And that must not be."
"And how then do you purpose to prevent it?" asked Mendez, once more
the cool, self-contained notary. "Do you propose to call out the
Cacique to prove his honourable intentions by single combat, after our
own Spain's knightly fashion?"
"Would that it were possible!" was the reply with kindling eyes. "But
no, Señor, my meaning is more simple. I have told you my fears. But
if you mean to treat them as idle fancies, or to stand by to see what
comes of them, I shall forthwith carry them to the Admiral himself."
"Umph!" said Diego Mendez deliberately, "you would so, would you? And
you would do well. But hark ye, youngster--I neither intend to treat
you nor your tale as nought, so with that assurance rest thee satisfied
a while. I too have noted somewhat of late, upon which your news throws
fresh light. But be wary. Tell no one what you have told to me, and
show no sign of trouble."
Convinced at last that his warning was received as seriously as
he desired, Montoro returned to his task amongst the amateur
house-builders, and displayed considerable ingenuity as a constructor
of neat roofs out of palm leaves. His alacrity at his work was the
more cheerful when, from his position on the hill above the mouth of
the river, he saw the accountant for the new settlement put off in one
of the boats to return to the Admiral's ship. This happened within
half-an-hour of their conversation on the native woman's intelligence,
and increased Montoro's good opinion of his own wisdom in choosing
Señor Mendez as the recipient of his confidence. Cautious as he was, he
could evidently act quickly enough in an emergency. In a short time he
was rowing rapidly back to the building-ground, bringing half-a-dozen
fully-armed men with him, and making signs to Montoro to meet him on
the shore.
Down went tools and palm leaves, down from the roof with a bound sprang
the tiler, and a minute later a second flying leap had carried him into
the boat beside Diego Mendez. A few rapid words were exchanged between
the two, and then the notary said gravely--
"Well, I have made you the offer of coming with me by the Admiral's
consent; but remember, our undertaking is one of life and death."
"I understand," was the quiet answer. "But if we die, our deaths will
be a sign to all these others to prepare for defence; if we live we
shall at any rate have discovered the nature of our danger. I go with
you gladly."
And of that latter fact his earnest, animated countenance gave abundant
evidence as they proceeded on their perilous enterprise. Passing from
the river Belen, they rowed along the sea-coast until they reached the
Veragua, at which point the real peril of their enterprise began, and
the first proof was obtained of the woman's veracity.
There upon the shore, within a few yards of them, was a great
encampment of the Indians, the warriors of their tribe, and fully
armed. The number of the Spaniards was eight, the number of the
Indians more than as many hundreds. For one moment the Europeans
rested on their oars in silence. It was no preconcerted act, but one
of involuntary homage paid by all things living, however daring, when
brought face to face with imminent death.
The half-whimsical, unbidden thought darted through Montoro's brain
that his mother had declared she should never see him again on earth,
and so she could not reasonably feel hurt if her words came true. What
unconnected thoughts flashed for that same supreme instant through
the mind of Diego Mendez none can say. It had scarcely passed when he
sprang into the shallow water, walked on shore, and with an air of the
most dignified composure advanced alone into the very midst of the
great fierce gathering.
Utterly overawed by the white man's astounding temerity, the Indians
fell back, with wonder and irresolution depicted on their countenances.
They answered questions with trepidation.
"Yes; they were on the war-path. Their Cacique had enemies in the
neighbourhood."
"Ah!" replied Diego Mendez with cool courtesy, "then our coming is
well-timed. In return for your Cacique's attentions to us we will
now aid his arms against his foes. We will accompany you on your
expedition."
"Not so," was the Indian chiefs angry reply. "We are strong enough to
fight our own battles; we seek no help. Only leave us: that is all we
desire."
By manifold signs his followers equally betrayed their impatience to
be rid of the new-comers, and strenuously declined to have anything
to do with the boat, or its crew. Seating himself in the small barque
with his face toward the Indian camp, and closely wrapped in his
cloak, Diego Mendez calmly sat, hour after hour, and watched the dusky
warriors.
The day waned; the short twilight drew on. One of the occupants of the
boat began to feel his courage cooling under this tedious inaction, and
he ventured to mutter somewhat anxiously--
"The night is coming, Señor Mendez. We shall be wholly at their mercy
in the darkness."
"Even so, Juan," was the calm answer; "and yet we must remain. We set
out with no thought of going in search of child's play. It is our lives
or the expedition."
And so they sat on in that boat, watching and watched, and the night
fell. Easily could the Indians have slain them all, but they were
afraid. The spirits of a thousand warriors were quelled by one man's
fearlessness. And as the blackness of night began to fade away into
pale dawn, the chief and his army faded from the scene--stole back
to Veragua stupefied and conquered. Moral power had won its strange,
bloodless victory. Then the watchers in the boat roused up, took their
oars again, and returned with their news to the ships.
"And thus the woman's truth is proved," said Montoro eagerly.
But his convictions were something lessened when the Admiral said
slowly--
"You are more sure than I, my son. That you saw an army of the natives
I fully believe. But that they had any purpose to attack us I strongly
doubt. Quibian has given many proofs of his friendly feelings towards
us. And even to-day he has sent us a plentiful supply of fish, and
game, and cocoa-nuts, maize, bananas, and pine-apples."
"And even to-day," interrupted Mendez with unusual heat, "even to-day,
Señor, the Cacique Quibian is meditating our massacre. Give me but
this cool-headed boy to go with me, and we will penetrate to the very
head-quarters of his people, to his very residence itself, and learn
the truth so fully that you shall no longer be able to doubt our
testimony."
There was a pause. The veteran navigator gazed with keen eyes at his
two excited companions, and at length said slowly--
"I send you not on so perilous a quest, but you may go."
The faces of his hearers lighted up as though he had endowed them with
some new-found gold mines, and with a hasty farewell from Montoro to
his half-jealous friend Fernando, the two companions were rowed back
again to land, and at once set out alone on their desperate expedition.
For nearly an hour they walked on rapidly side by side in silence. At
last Montoro asked doubtfully,--
"Why keep we thus to the seaboard, Señor? Surely we have learnt that
the residence of the Cacique is far away up yonder, beyond the forest.
We should be turning inland if we wish to reach it."
Mendez turned his shrewd face towards his questioner with a slight
smile.
"Ah, my friend, thou art bold and brave beyond thy years, and ready,
to boot; but thou hast not yet quite an old head on thy shoulders, I
perceive. If our foes are watching for our destruction as we suppose,
how long thinkest thou, I and thou should live, bewildered, trapped,
and helpless, in yonder jungle? No, we will keep to the shore till we
reach the Veragua, and then we will follow the Veragua till it leads us
to this Cacique's village, and his own abode. Light, and a clear space,
are valuable to us just now."
Diego Mendez was willing to sacrifice his life freely for the general
good, but he had no idea of wasting it. Montoro did not wish to waste
his either, but to his impetuous nature this winding round, instead of
making a straight dash, was becoming very tedious, when they at length
reached the river's mouth, and at the same time came upon two canoes
and a party of native fishermen. Whether subjects of Quibian or of his
rival, the Spaniards could not ascertain, but whoever they were, they
showed themselves so kind and hospitable that the tired and footsore
pedestrians made signs to be taken into the canoes, when they were
about to set out on their return voyage up the river.
Making sure of consent, the notary went so far as to put his foot on
to the end of the canoe ready for stepping in. But the owners sprang
forward to push him back, with most vigorous shakings of the head, and
still more significant pointings towards the village, and the bundles
of arrows in their own canoes.
Mendez and Montoro exchanged glances. There was no longer, then, much
doubt of the fate intended them, and ere many minutes had passed they
had learnt that the disconcerted warriors of last night were only
waiting for the next day, before making a fresh descent upon the white
intruders, shooting them, and burning the new settlement.
"Even so," said Diego Mendez at last. "We have but learnt afresh what
we were well assured of before. But we will not wait for the doom
intended us. It better beseems Spaniards to be the first aggressors."
As to the general humanity or morality of that sentiment young Montoro
might have taken exception at a quieter moment; but just now he was
infinitely too excited for tranquil thought, and eagerly seconded his
older companion in so urging to be taken up the river, that at length
the kind, simple-hearted fishermen consented, although with great
reluctance.
The poor people's astonishment was still greater when, on reaching the
village, picturesquely situated on the banks of the river, and now in
all the bustle of warlike preparations, their two passengers insisted
on landing, and putting themselves into the power of their enemies.
Still Diego Mendez preserved his cool presence of mind. Having learnt
that Quibian had been wounded by an arrow, he gave out that he was a
surgeon come to heal the injured leg; and demanding immediate admission
to the Cacique, he mounted the hill to the very walls of the royal
residence.
Arrived at the summit of the eminence, he and his companion paused a
moment to take breath, and Montoro, for all his courage, could not
wholly suppress a shudder at the hideous ornamentation of the royal
domain. Three hundred human heads, recently torn from their trunks,
were arranged in circles, in all their grim horribleness, before the
Cacique's abode, the trophies of his valour, and significant warnings
to his adversaries.
Mendez also glanced at these heads, and from them to the handsome lad
beside him, so rich with the blessings of vigorous youth and health,
and a shade of regret passed over his face.
But it was too late for such reflections now. The die was cast, and
they must advance, and resolutely. The slightest token of hesitation or
fear would most assuredly be fatal.
But however brave they might be, others were cowardly enough. They had
scarcely moved forward a dozen steps on the plateau of the hill when a
crowd of women and children caught sight of the strange new beings, and
throwing their arms wildly above their heads in a very abandonment of
terror, they fled in all directions, startling the echoes with their
shrieks.
It soon became evident that they had startled more than the echoes,
for a son of the Cacique, a tall, powerfully-built man, rushed out to
ascertain the cause of the commotion, and looked ready enough to add
the Spaniards' heads to his father's collection when he perceived them
thus braving him, as it were, on his own ground.
Not being versed in the laws of chivalry, he took the notary at
unawares with a blow which nearly sent him headlong down the hill, and
Montoro almost as suddenly dashed forward with doubled fists to revenge
his companion; but Mendez was far from desiring to be so championed.
Recovering his footing, he grasped the boy by the shoulder and pulled
him back, saying hastily,--
"My friend! patience is a virtue--when it is expedient."
Thus pocketing the affront for the present in a way that was very
astonishing to Montoro, the notary by signs complimented his antagonist
on his vigour, and ended by winning the powerful young savage over
to the side of peace and good-will by presenting him with a comb, a
pair of scissors, and a looking-glass, and giving him a lesson in
hair-dressing. So delighted was the great Quibian's heir with that new
accomplishment, that he fairly hugged his instructor, and although
he could not obtain the bold Spaniards an interview with the angry,
invalid monarch, he sufficiently showed his gratitude by despatching
them safe back again to the waiting Admiral, and their anxious comrades.
[Illustration: He ended by winning the powerful young savage over to
the side of peace and good-will by presenting him with a comb, a pair
of scissors, and a looking-glass].
Thus began and ended Montoro de Diego's first great adventure in
the New World, and from henceforth he was marked out as one of
those for whom the new scenes were to be scenes of renown. With the
bitter termination, for others, of that exploit he had no concern.
He was lying in his berth in the unconsciousness of fever when,
a few days later, the Adelantado and eighty men, guided by Diego
Mendez, seized the unfortunate Cacique, and carried off his wives,
children, and chief friends to die miserable deaths of despair and
broken-heartedness. Well might the poor creatures long to prevent even
the least cruel of the white invaders from landing on their shores.
Even in the present day it is hard to teach civilized people that the
uncivilized have rights equal with their own, and as sacred. In those
days it was impossible.