It must be remembered that the war party whom Pedro and I were now so
unwillingly compelled to accompany, was but an irregular portion of the
Indian army, and that the chief commanding it was in every respect
inferior to Tupac Amaru, and his brave sons Andres and Mariano, or his
brother Diogo. I mention this, because otherwise I might give my reader
a very unjust and incorrect history of the principal men engaged in the
attempt I am describing to regain the long-lost liberties of the
Peruvian nation.
The forces of Tupac Catari had crossed the sandy plain, and ascended the
woody height I have mentioned, when we reached a rocky defile, through
which lay the road we were to pursue. Instead of sending on an advanced
guard to feel the way, as a more experienced general would have done,
the chief rode carelessly on at the head of his followers. Pedro and I
were allowed to keep together, and to converse in Spanish; for I suppose
that Catari thought that we should not dream of attempting to escape
from among his numerous army. He was wrong, however; for the idea of
doing so was never absent from my mind.
"Pedro," said I, "you have been so true and faithful, and have shown so
much regard for me, that I know you would not willingly desert me, and
yet I do not like to lead you into danger unnecessarily; but tell me, do
you think we could manage to get away from these people?"
"O Senor, do not suppose I would hesitate a moment to serve you on
account of the danger," he answered, in a tone of much feeling. "What
have I, without kindred or friends, to live for, that I should be afraid
of risking my life? Yet at present I do not see what chance we have of
escaping; though an opportunity may occur when we least expect it."
"Thanks, Pedro, thanks, my friend," I replied. "I was certain that you
would be ready to aid me; and I hope some day to show my gratitude to
you, little as I am now able to do so. But do not say that you have no
friends. Surely Manco is your friend, and the Indians among whom you
have lived, and the good priest who educated you."
"The good priest is dead. Manco is my friend, and so are the kind
Indians; but I am the child of another race, and though I love the
Indians, my heart yearns for the sympathy and affection of the people
from whom I am sprung. When I was a child I cared not for it; but since
I learned to read the history of my father's country, and more than all,
since I met you, Senor, new feelings and aspirations have sprung up
within my bosom. I cannot be content unless I am in the company of
those who can converse, like you, on things beyond the narrow circle of
the life I have hitherto led."
"I understand you, Pedro; and I think that I should feel as you do," I
said. "If we can make our escape, you shall accompany me to other
lands--we will go forth together to see the great world which lies
beyond these lofty mountains."
"O Senor, your words have given me a new life," he exclaimed
enthusiastically. "I will follow you anywhere you may lead, and serve
you faithfully. And yet," he added in a tone of feeling, "I must not
leave the generous Manco without again seeing him; I must bid farewell
to my foster father and mother, and the Indians who protected me in my
youth; I must return to them once more before I go."
"I would on no account induce you to be ungrateful, and I should myself
be very unwilling to leave the country, even should I discover my
family, without returning to bid farewell to Manco," I said in return.
"Then we will go back to Manco as soon as we can escape from these
people; and we may thus with more speed be able to begin our travels,"
exclaimed Pedro.
We were both very young, and ignorant of the great world we talked of
exploring; and we little knew all the difficulties we might be destined
to encounter. The subject, once commenced, was a continual source of
interest to us, and we were never tired of talking about it. It served
also to prevent my mind from dwelling on my loss, the probability of
which I could scarcely conceal from myself.
I have mentioned but a few of Pedro's observations, for the sake of
showing his character. He had benefited to the utmost from the little
education which had been given him by the priest of whom he spoke. His
disposition was ardent and romantic, and full of generous sympathies;
and possessing a clear perception of right and wrong, he was always
anxious to do right. He had been made acquainted at an early age with
his own history; and though he loved the Indians, he was proud of
belonging to a superior race, among whom his great desire was to mix as
an equal. He was tall and well formed, with very handsome features, to
which his amiable disposition had given a most pleasing expression; so
that, whether or not his parents were of good birth, he looked, at all
events, in every respect the gentleman.
In early youth, when people are thrown together under difficult
circumstances, friendships calculated to endure to the end of life are
quickly formed; and thus, during the short time we had been together, we
had become mutually much attached; indeed, I fancied that no one could
have been many days in the society of Pedro without feeling a sincere
regard for him.
So much were we absorbed in conversation, that we scarcely noticed how
the time flew by. The leading parties of the Indians had now passed
through a considerable portion of the defile, and the rear were about to
enter it when we reached a spot more difficult and narrow than any we
had yet arrived at.
"If any of the Spanish troops were on the watch to intercept the Indian
forces, this is the very spot they should select," I observed to Pedro.
"May the saints forbid!" he answered. "The poor people would be cut to
pieces, and we should suffer with them."
"I certainly do not wish it," I said; "though I think we might manage to
escape in the confusion; but I thought of it, as it was exactly in such
a spot as this that some months ago we were attacked by the Montoneros,
when we were rescued by Manco and his followers."
"Oh, the Spaniards are too much disheartened and terrified by their late
disasters to think of attacking the Indians," said Pedro.
"But suppose they were to attack our captors, do not you think that we
could manage to climb up the cliffs, and hide ourselves among the rocks
till the fighting is over?" I asked, without at all expecting that such
a thing was likely to happen.
I had scarcely made the observation, when our ears were assailed by the
loud rattle of musketry, and a shower of bullets flew about our heads,
killing and wounding many of the Indians near us. In an instant they
were thrown into the most terrible confusion, and the shouts and cries
of fear rent the air. Catari, and some of the chiefs about him, in vain
endeavoured to lead them on to meet their concealed enemies. So
completely were they taken by surprise, that all their courage deserted
them. They gave way to their first impulse, which was to fly from the
danger. The rear ranks turned, and the rest followed, and fled as fast
as they could, with the intention of getting into the more open country
they had left. The Spaniards, a strong body of whose troops had been
lying in ambush, on this showed themselves, and, with their swords in
their hands, rushed down upon the confused bands of the Indians.
Catari, and those immediately about him, fought bravely, for they had
not a hope of escaping. His people threw themselves before him, and
allowed the Spaniards to cut them to pieces in their attempt to preserve
the life of their chief. Pedro and I were fortunately at the time a
little in the rear of the advanced guard; and we had escaped the bullets
which had laid low many of those near us. The Indians, however, were so
completely blocking up the narrow defile in their eagerness to escape,
that we saw it would be impossible to fly in that direction. Our only
chance of saving our lives was to put in execution the plan I had just
before been proposing.
"Let us throw ourselves from our mules, and try to climb up the cliffs,"
I exclaimed to Pedro.
Just then a bullet struck Catari. I saw him reel in his saddle, when
one of his companions seized his horse's bridle, and attempted to lead
him out of the fray towards the rear. But he was mortally wounded; and
before he could be got from among the combatants, he fell to the ground.
His death was the signal for the rest to fly; but they attempted to do
so in vain. The Spanish soldiers pressed in upon them, and cutting them
down without mercy, forced them back in confusion. A few of the
Indians, driven to despair, still fought fiercely, and for a time
impeded their progress, thus leaving a clear space near where Pedro and
I stood.
"Now, now!" I exclaimed to Pedro. "We have not a moment to lose. If
the Spaniards reach us before we have time for explanation, they will
kill us. Jump from your mule and follow me."
I had observed that on one side the cliff was considerably broken, and
that a number of jutting rocks would enable us to climb up to the
summit, and afford us some sort of shelter in the meantime. I threw
myself out of my saddle as I spoke, and Pedro following my example, we
ran as fast as we could towards the rocks. It was the work of a moment
to spring up them; there was an abundance of shrubs and creeping plants
to help us. By laying hold of them, we drew ourselves from rock to
rock. Our lives we felt depended on our activity; and under ordinary
circumstances I do not think we could have accomplished the task. We
had thus climbed up some forty feet or so in a shorter time than I have
taken to describe it, when we reached a platform, above which, as we
looked upwards, it seemed impossible that we could ascend. There was,
however, the branch of a tree, which grew in a cleft of the rock.
"Take me on your shoulders, and I think I can reach it," I cried to
Pedro.
He stooped down, and, as I sprung on his shoulders, he lifted me up till
I caught hold of the branch. I drew myself up, and succeeded in
throwing my body over the bough. I then, holding on tight with one
hand, gave him the other, and lifted him up till he could catch hold of
it also. The branch cracked and bent with our united weight; but we
were anxious enough had it not done so, for we were now fully exposed to
the sight of the combatants below. They were, however, too much engaged
to observe us. When Pedro no longer required my assistance, I lifted
myself till I could reach the branch of another tree still higher up,
and from thence sprung on to the rock we wished to gain. Pedro kept
close behind me, and imitating my example, we in a short time found
ourselves behind a rock overshadowed by trees, where, from among the
branches which hung down close to it, we could command a view of the
greater part of the ravine without being seen, though we were not high
enough to escape any stray shots fired in our direction.
By the time we got there, the last of the Indians who had stood their
ground, were either killed or wounded; and the Spanish troops swept
along the defile like a mountain torrent, overthrowing all they
encountered in their course. Their shouts of triumph, and the shrieks
of the Indians, reached our ears with terrible distinctness where we
stood. During our ascent we had heard nothing; even the rattle of the
musketry was unheeded. Now and then the Spaniards halted to load, and
they again sent forth a volley, which in that narrow space took terrible
effect; and once more they advanced to the charge. The Indians did not
once attempt to rally, but fled like a flock of sheep chased by dogs;
those in the rear falling the first victims, and the conquerors passing
over their prostrate bodies. The rout was most complete; and over the
distance which we could see from where we stood, it appeared that many
thousands had been killed. Every foot of the ground was covered with
them, and the conquerors had literally to wade through their blood as
they rushed to the work of destruction. It was a dreadful sight; but
still we could not withdraw our eyes from it. We were considering what
we should next do; and in order to obtain a better view of the country
beyond the defile, to judge whether we should proceed in that direction,
I climbed up to a higher part of the rock, supposing that all the
Spaniards had passed by; when, to my dismay, I saw some fifty men or so
drawn up across the road. They were posted there evidently to guard the
entrance of the defile, and to prevent their companions from being
attacked in the rear by any fresh body of Indians. Though I was only
exposed for a moment, they saw me; and as I jumped down several shots
rattled against the rock. Their voices shouting to us, and ordering us
to come to them, warned us that we could hope no longer to remain
concealed. We, however, were in a very secure position; and we judged,
from the difficulty we had in getting there, that they were not at all
likely to be able to climb up to us.
"What is to be done now, Pedro?" I asked. "Do you think we could
manage to scramble up among the trees, and so escape over the top of the
cliffs?"
"Perhaps we might," he answered, looking up to examine the trees above
us. "But what should we do when we got there? We should be without our
mules or provisions or arms, and a long way from any habitation where we
might obtain shelter. We should also very likely fall into the power of
some of the broken parties of Catari's army, dispersed by the Spaniards;
and they, enraged by the disaster which has befallen them, would, seeing
that we were whites, kill us without asking us any questions."
Pedro's arguments were very strong; but still I thought we should be
only falling from the frying-pan into the fire, if we put ourselves into
the power of the Spaniards. While we were still discussing what we
should do, we heard them again calling to us.
"Come down, you Indian thieves, come down and be shot, or we must climb
up after you," they shouted.
"More easily said than done," observed Pedro; "but do not let us show
ourselves, or they are very likely to shoot us without further
questioning. If we could make them hear us from where we are, we might
tell them that we are whites, who had been taken prisoners by the
Indians."
"Stay then," said I, going to the side of the rock nearest to where the
Spaniards stood, keeping my body carefully sheltered behind it, I put my
head among the leaves, so that they could not see me, and shouted out--
"We are friends! we are friends!--whites, escaped from the Indians. We
were afraid you would mistake us for enemies, so we hid ourselves."
"If that is the case," said an officer, stepping forward, "come down, we
will not hurt you."
"What shall we do?" said I to Pedro. "We are safe where we are for the
present, for their bullets cannot reach us; and I am certain no Spanish
soldier will be able to climb up in the way we did to this spot."
"We shall get very hungry though, if they try to starve us out," he
answered; "besides, it will look as if we were guilty of some crime if
we appear afraid of coming down."
"There is no help for it, I see," was my reply. "We must put a good
face upon the matter. Senor officer," I shouted, "your men have already
shown that they can aim very correctly, and we would rather not run the
risk of another peppering; may I beg that you will take care that they
do not fire at us by mistake. If we have your word for it, we will
descend, as you desire."
"I pledge you the word of a Castilian that they shall not fire at you,"
answered the officer.
"That satisfies us; we will descend," I shouted back. "Come, Pedro, we
must take care not to break our necks though, which we shall do if we
slip," I said, as I swung myself on to a bough of the nearest tree below
the rock.
It is nearly always more difficult to descend a cliff than to climb up;
as in the former case one cannot see where one's feet are to rest; and
one may chance to find one's self on a jutting ledge, from whence the
height is too great to leap off to the next standing-place below, and
one has to climb up again to search for another way down. We had the
advantage of knowing the rocks on which we were to rest; yet our descent
took much more time than had our ascent. At one place Pedro had to hold
fast by a tree while he let me down; and I, in return, had to grasp
firmly a jutting rock, and to catch him as he dropped down to me. At
length, with no slight exertion and risk, we reached the bottom, where
we found the Spanish officer and several of his men, who had been
watching us with some admiration, and wondering, as they told us, how we
had contrived not to break our necks. They would scarcely believe that
we had got up by the same way.
"I thought none but monkeys could climb such a place," observed the
officer.
"We English have a way of doing extraordinary things when we try," I
replied, trying to look as unconcerned as possible.
"English, are you indeed? I thought you must be so."
"Yes, Senor, I am an Englishman at your service," I said; for I had
agreed with Pedro that it would be better to give a correct account of
ourselves, than to attempt any deception.
There is an old saying--"Tell the truth and shame the devil." Now,
although there can be no doubt that there are occasions when concealment
is excusable, yet these are very rare exceptions, which occur but seldom
in most men's lives; and as a general rule a strict adherence to the
truth is the only just and safe course, even though it may apparently
lead one into a difficulty. There is something degrading in a falsehood
or prevarication, which must injure the self-respect of a man of proper
feeling. It is a sin! There is no disguising it. People often tell
falsehoods to conceal what they have done wrong, but that does not make
the sin less; it is only adding one sin to another. I say--and I know
that am right--Tell truth, and stand the consequences.
I therefore told the officer my true history. How my father's house had
been taken possession of by the Spanish troops; how the Indians had
attacked and burned it; and how they had carried me off desperately
wounded. Then I described how I had been nursed by an Indian and his
wife among the mountains till I had recovered, when the dreadful report
reached me of the destruction of my family; and how the Indian had
allowed me to set out for the purpose of discovering what had really
been their fate, when, in the course of my search, we had been captured
by Catari and his followers. The officer seemed much interested by the
account I gave him, and to feel real compassion for my loss.
"And the youth with you, who is he?" he asked.
I told him, a Spaniard, who in his childhood had been carried off by the
Indians, and educated by the good priest of their village.
"It is a very strange story you tell me," he remarked. "However, I
believe you, for your face assures me that you speak the truth. You
both must now accompany me to the place where I am ordered to wait with
my men for the return of the rest of the troops. I hear the bugles
sounding the recall, and they probably have by this time completely
dispersed all the Indians who remained together; but their orders were
not to venture beyond the defile, lest the brigands should reassemble
and cut them off. We must march at once, for the colonel commanding our
force will soon be there."
I was very well satisfied with his manner of speaking, and felt certain
that we should be kindly treated. Fortunately for us, our mules had
managed to get out of the way of the troops as they passed by. With
much sagacity they had, when we jumped off their backs, crept into a
wide crevice in the cliffs, and we found them close to the spot feeding
on the leaves of some shrubs which grew among the rocks. On our
claiming them as our property, the officer allowed us to mount them; and
he invited us to ride by his side at the head of his men. His questions
were sometimes very puzzling, for I resolved not to give him any
information which might prove injurious to the Indians. I could not,
however, deny that I had seen a large Indian force collected very
different to that of Catari; and I warned him, that should the Spaniards
ever meet it, they would find a victory far more difficult than the one
they had just achieved.
"Do you think you could lead us to the place where this army you speak
of is encamped?" he asked suddenly, after a considerable silence.
"Senor," I replied, with a look of indignation, "has anything I have
said induced you to believe that I could be capable of so dishonourable
and ungrateful an action! The Indians treated me with mercy and
kindness. Is such the return you would expect an honest man to make?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "Why, no," he replied; "to confess the
truth, I should not expect you to do so willingly, and I would myself
rather not be asked to do such a thing; but I am sorry to tell you that
there are others, my superiors, who are not so likely to pay respect to
your scruples; and I am afraid that they will insist on your acting as
our guide if it is thought expedient to march against the new made
Inca."
"But surely I have the power to refuse to do any such thing," I
exclaimed indignantly.
"But you might be compelled to do it," he urged. "It would be dangerous
for you to refuse. Our generals are not in a mood to be trifled with."
"I trust that no power could compel me to act so treacherous a part," I
replied calmly. "You, Senor, I am sure, would not so advise me."
He seemed to be a man imbued with the old chivalrous spirit of the
Castilians; and my appeal to his honourable sentiments pleased him.
"You are a brave youth, and I will do my best to serve you," he replied.
"I am in duty bound to tell my colonel what I know, but you can assure
him that you could not find your way back, which I think you probably
would not be able to do."
This conversation caused me much anxiety, though I resolved at all
hazards not to betray my friends. I could not also but regret that I
had been so incautious as to have allowed myself to confess that I had
seen the army of the Inca. I should have been more on my guard; and,
without departing from the truth, I might have declined answering any
questions which could draw the information from me. The frankness and
kind manner of the officer threw me off it, however; and I found myself
placed in a position I had not at all contemplated. I received a lesson
which I hope may be useful to any of my readers who may be placed in
similar circumstances. The officer, whose name I found was Don Eduardo
da Vila, and a captain of the regiment with which he was serving, was
only doing his duty in cross-questioning me; and I believe that he was
very sorry that the information he had obtained was likely to prove
injurious to me.
We soon reached the spot he had spoken of, where we were to wait for his
colonel. It was a rocky height with precipitous sides, of which a
portion of only one was accessible, so that it was a complete natural
fortress. It commanded the entrance to the ravine; and had the Indians
possessed any knowledge of warfare, they would have taken another route,
however circuitous, rather than have attempted to pass so formidable a
position without first ascertaining that it was not occupied by an
enemy. It was nearly dusk, and the chief body of the Spanish troops had
not yet returned from their work of bloodshed. Don Eduardo began to be
uneasy.
"Can the rebels have rallied and attacked them?" I heard him say to one
of his inferiors. "I thought I heard the bugles sounding as we left the
ravine."
"There can be no doubt about it. If they had been attacked, the sound
of the firing would have reached us," was the answer.
"They have probably pursued the enemy further than they intended," said
Don Eduardo, walking a short distance off from where we stood. He was
evidently becoming anxious on the subject.
"What do you think about it?" I asked Pedro, who had overheard what had
been said.
"It is possible that the Indians may have rallied and cut off the
Spaniards," he answered. "Yet I do not think that they will have had
the courage to do so. At first I was almost hoping it, as I thought we
might have a better chance of escaping, but then I remembered that
though many of the Indians might have been my friends, the Spaniards are
my countrymen. I trust no disaster has befallen them."
Don Eduardo and his lieutenant returned after the consultation; and the
latter, with a sergeant's party, was ordered to proceed along the
ravine, to ascertain what had become of the main body. We watched the
lieutenant and his men enter the ravine and advance, till they were hid
by a turn of the cliffs. Don Eduardo then called us to him, and asked
us our opinion as to what was likely to have occurred. We both assured
him that we did not think the Indians would have rallied. What we said
appeared somewhat to relieve his mind, and sitting down on a rock, he
lighted a cigar, and offered some to us, which we declined, as neither
Pedro nor I smoked. The men meantime had piled their arms, and lighted
fires to boil their cocoa and to cook their provisions. Some were thus
employed, others were smoking, and others had thrown themselves on the
ground to rest after the fatigues of the day. We learned that they had
received notice of the march of Catari's army from an Indian spy, many
of whom were in the pay of the Spaniards. They had watched for them for
several days, and at last the colonel commanding the force had resolved
to occupy the post where he attacked them, till they should attempt to
pass. The view around the spot we occupied was very picturesque. It
was also a very strong natural position, while its picturesqueness was
increased by the horses and baggage mules picqueted under the trees, the
gay costumes of their drivers, the camp-fires, the piles of arms, and
the groups of soldiers, in varied attitudes, scattered here and there.
The sun had set and the short twilight had come to an end, when the
tramp of men's feet at a distance reached our ears. We listened
anxiously. It was that of trained soldiers; and in a short time we saw
them looming through the gloom of the evening. As they drew near, the
advanced guard uttered a shout to warn us of their approach, which was
responded to by the party on the hill. Soon afterwards they appeared on
the summit, and as they marched into the centre of the space, they piled
their arms, and joined their comrades round the fires. Each man came
laden with the spoils they had retaken from the Indians.
After a portion of the troops had filed by, there came, with two
soldiers guarding each of them, some fifty Indians who had been taken
prisoners, and preserved to grace their triumph. Poor wretches, we
found that though their lives were for the present spared, their fate
was sealed, and that it was intended by a public execution to strike
terror into the hearts of their countrymen. Those who could not move
fast enough were dragged forward by ropes fastened to their wrists, or
urged on at the point of the sword. When they halted, they were all
huddled together like sheep in a pen, and a strong guard placed over
them to prevent their escape. From the words we overheard, the soldiers
appeared to be recounting eagerly, to those who had been left as a
reserve, the adventures of the day. Pedro and I were shortly summoned
by Don Eduardo to attend the colonel; but fortunately he was too tired
and hungry to interrogate us closely, and after a few questions he
dismissed us, with permission to join several of his officers round
their watch-fires.
We were surprised at seeing only three or four wounded men; and we
learned that, with the exception of one killed, they were the only
sufferers among the troops. They were in high spirits, as this was the
first success the Spanish forces had met with since the commencement of
the outbreak. They boasted that they had killed several thousands of
the Indians, though their own loss had been so small. They had followed
them beyond the defile, where the remainder, entirely broken and
dispersed, had saved themselves in the recesses of the forest. The
officers civilly invited us to partake of their supper, Don Eduardo
having recommended us to their notice; and afterwards, the picquets
having been placed, we all wrapped ourselves in our cloaks and lay down
to sleep.