While the pursuing party is peacefully reposing upon the stalagmites of
the cavern, that pursued reaches its destination--the "Sacred town" of
the Tovas.
The _tolderia_, so named, stands upon a level plain, near the shore of a
large and beautiful lake, whose numerous low-lying islets, covered with
a thick growth of the _moriche_, have the appearance of palm-groves
growing direct out of the water itself.
A belt of the same stately trees borders the lake all around, broken
here and there by projecting headlands; while away over the adjacent
_campo_, on the higher and drier ground, are seen palms of other and
different species, both fan-leaved and pinnate, growing in copses or
larger "montes," with evergreen shrubs and trees of deciduous foliage
interspersed.
At some three or four hundred yards from the lake's edge, a high hill
rises abruptly above the plain--the only elevation within many miles.
Thus isolated, it is visible from afar, and forms a conspicuous feature
of the landscape; all the more remarkable on account of its singular
shape, which is the frustrum of a cone. Though its sides are of steep
pitch, they are thickly wooded to the summit; trees of large size
standing upon its table-like top. But something more than trees stand
there; the scaffolds upon which are laid the bodies of the Tovas dead;
hundreds of which may be seen in all stages of decay, or shrivelled and
desiccated by the dry winds and sun of the Chaco till they resemble
Egyptian mummies. For it is the "Cemetery Hill," a spot hallowed in the
hearts of these Indians, and so giving the title of "Sacred" to this
particular place, as the town adjacent to it. The latter is situated
just under the hill, between its base and the shore of the lake. No
grand city, as might be supposed from such a high-sounding name, but
simply a collection of palm and bamboo _toldos_, or huts, scattered
about without any design or order; each owner having been left free to
select the site of his frail tenement, since among the Tovas municipal
regulations are of the simplest and most primitive character. True,
some dwellings, grander and more pretentious than the common, are
grouped around an open space; in the centre of which is one much larger
than any of the others, its dimensions equalling a dozen of them. This
is not a dwelling, however, but the _Malocca_, or House of Parliament.
Perhaps, with greater propriety, it might be called "Congress Chamber,"
since, as already hinted at, the polity of the Tovas tribe is rather
republican than monarchical.
Strange, as sad, that in this republic of redskins, and so-called
savages, should exist the same political contradiction as among some
other republican communities, having the name of civilised. For
although themselves individually free, the Tovas Indians do not believe
in the doctrine that all men should be so; or, at all events, they do
not act up to it. Instead, their practice is the very opposite, as
shown by their keeping numbers of slaves. Of these they have hundreds,
most of them being Indians of other tribes, their enemies, whom they
have made captive in battle. But to the Tovas master it signifies
little what be the colour of his bondman's skin, whether white or red;
and many of the former, women as well as men, may be seen doing drudgery
in this same Sacred town--its hewers of wood and drawers of water.
These are also captives, the spoil of predatory incursions across the
Salado into the settlements of Santiago, Salto, and Tucuman.
Most of these slaves, employed in the care of cattle, live apart from
their masters, in a sort of suburb, where the dwellings are of a less
permanent character than the ordinary _toldos_, besides being
differently constructed. They more resemble the tents, or wigwams, of
the North-American Indians; being simply a number of poles set in a
circle, and tied together at the tops; the hides of horses covering
them, instead of the buffalo skins which serve a similar purpose on the
northern prairies.
It may seem strange that captives with white skins, thus left unguarded,
do not make their escape. But no; those so kept do not even seek or
desire it. Long in captivity, they have become "Indianised," lost all
aspirations for liberty, and grown contented with their lot; for the
Tovas are not hard taskmasters.
On the night of that same day, when the _tormenta_ overtook them, Aguara
and his party approach the Sacred town, which is about twenty miles from
the edge of the _salitral_, where the trail parts from the latter, going
westward. The plain between is no more of saline or sterile character;
but, as on the other side, showing a luxuriant vegetation, with the same
picturesque disposal of palm-groves and other tropical trees.
The hour is late--nigh to midnight--as the captive train passes under
the shadow of the Cemetery Hill, making round to where the _tolderia_
stands; for both lake and town are on the west side of the hill.
Well may the young cacique feel something of fear, his face showing it,
as he glances up to that elevated spot where he so late laid the corpse
of his father. Were that father living, he, the son, would not be
passing there with the daughter of Ludwig Halberger as his captive.
Even as it is, he can fancy the spirit of the deceased cacique hovering
over the hill, and looking frowningly, reproachfully, down upon him!
As if to escape from such imaginary frowns, he gives the lash to his
horse; and setting the animal into a gallop, rides on alone--having
first placed the captive under the charge of one of his followers.
On reaching the _tolderia_, however, he does not go direct to his own
dwelling, which is the largest of those adjacent to the _malocca_. Nor
yet enters he among the _toldos_; but, instead, makes a wide circuit
around them, taking care not to awake those sleeping within. The place
for which he is making is a sort of half hut, half cave, close in to the
base of the hill, with trees overshadowing, and a rocky background of
cliff.
Arrived in front of this solitary dwelling, he dismounts, and, drawing
aside the horse's skin which serves as a swing door, calls out:--
"Shebotha!"
Presently a woman appears in the opening--if woman she could be called.
For it is a hag of most repulsive appearance; her face half hidden by a
tangle of long hair, black, despite old age indicated by a skin
shrivelled and wrinkled as that of a chameleon. Add to this a pair of
dark grey eyes, deep sunken in their sockets, for all gleaming
brilliantly, and you have the countenance of Shebotha--sorceress of the
Tovas tribe--one of cast as sinister as ever presented itself in a
doorway.
She speaks not a word in answer to the friendly salutation of the
cacique; but stands silent in bent, obeisant attitude, with her skinny
arms crossed over her breast, as it waiting to hear what he would
further say. His words are by way of command:
"Shebotha! I've brought back with me a captive--a young girl of the
palefaces. You must take charge of her, and keep her here in your hut.
She's not yet come up, but will presently. So get things ready to
receive her."
Shebotha but bends lower, with an inclination of the head, to imply that
his instructions will be attended to. Then he adds--
"No one must see, or converse with her; at least, not for a time. And
you mustn't admit any one inside your _toldo_, except the witless white
creature, your slave. About him it don't signify. But keep out all
others, as I know you can. You understand me, Shebotha?"
She makes answer in the affirmative, but, as before, only by a nod.
"Enough!" is the young chief's satisfied rejoinder, as he vaults back
upon his horse, and rides off to meet the captive train, which he knows
must be now near.
That night, as for other nights and days succeeding, Francesca Halberger
has this horrid hag for a hostess, or rather the keeper of her prison;
since the unhappy girl is in reality kept and guarded as a prisoner.