THE PASSAGE OF THE DEFILE.
While these things were going on in the defile, a few words exchanged
between Antinahuel and the Linda filled the Toqui with uneasiness, by
making him vaguely suspicious of some treachery.
"What is the matter?" Doña Maria asked.
"Nothing very extraordinary," he replied, carelessly; "some
reinforcements have arrived rather late, upon which I did not reckon."
"Good Heavens!" said Doña Maria, "I have been perhaps deceived by
an extraordinary resemblance; but, if the man I mean were not forty
leagues off, I should declare it is he who commands that troop."
"Let my sister explain herself," said Antinahuel.
"Tell me, in the first place, chief," the Linda continued, "the name of
the warrior to whom you spoke?"
"His name is Joan."
"That is impossible! Joan is at this moment more than forty leagues
from this place, detained by his love for a white woman," the Linda
cried.
"My sister must be mistaken, because I have just been conversing with
him."
"Then he is a traitor!" she said passionately.
The chief's brow became thoughtful.
"This has an awkward appearance," he said. "Can I have been betrayed?"
he added in a deep tone.
"What are you going to do?" the Linda asked, stopping him.
"To demand of Joan an account of his ambiguous conduct."
"It is too late," the Linda continued, pointing with her finger to the
Chilians.
"Oh!" Antinahuel cried, with rage, "woe be to him if he prove a
traitor."
"It is no longer time for recrimination and threats; you must fight."
"Yes," he replied, fervently; "we will fight now. After the victory it
will be time enough to chastise traitors."
The plan of the Araucanos was of the most simple kind: to allow the
Spaniards to enter the defile, then to attack them at once in front and
in rear, whilst the warriors in ambush on the flanks poured down upon
them enormous stones and fragments of rock. A party of the Indians had
bravely thrown themselves both in front and rear of the Spaniards to
bar their passage. Antinahuel sprang up, and encouraging his warriors
with voice and gesture, he rolled down an immense stone amongst his
enemies. All at once a shower of bullets came pattering down upon his
troops. The false Indians, led by Joan, showed themselves, and charged
him resolutely to the cry of "Chili! Chili!"
"We are betrayed!" Antinahuel shouted, "Kill, kill!"
Some horsemen charged in troops at speed, whilst others galloped at
random among the terrified infantry.
The Araucanos did not yield an inch--the Chilians did not advance a
step. The mêlée undulated like the waves of the sea in a tempest; the
earth was red with blood.
The combat had assumed heroic proportions.
At length, by a desperate effort Antinahuel succeeded in breaking
through the close ranks of the enemies who enveloped him, and rushed
into the defile, followed by his warriors, and waving his heavy hatchet
over his head. Black Stag contrived to effect the same movement; but
Joan's Chilian horse advanced from behind the rising ground which had
concealed them, with loud cries, and came on sabring all before them.
The Linda followed closely the steps of Antinahuel, her eyes flashing,
her lips compressed.
"Forward!--forward!" Don Gregorio cried in a voice of thunder.
"Chili! Chili!" the general repeated, cutting down a man at every blow.
More dead than alive, Don Ramón fought like a demon; he waved his
sword, rode down all in his way with the weight of his horse, and
uttered inarticulate cries with the gestures of one possessed.
In the meantime, Don Bustamente snatched a sword from one of the
soldiers, made his horse plunge violently, and dashed forward, crying
with a loud voice--
"To the rescue!--to the rescue!"
To this appeal the Araucanos replied by shouts of joy, and flew towards
him.
"Ay, ay," a scoffing voice cried; "but you are not free yet, Don
Pancho."
General Bustamente turned sharply round, and found himself face to face
with General Cornejo, who had leaped his horse over a heap of dead
bodies. The two men, after exchanging a look of hatred, rushed against
each other with raised swords. The shock was terrible; the two horses
fell with it. Don Pancho received a slight wound in the head; the arm
of General Cornejo was cut through by the weapon of his adversary.
With a bound Don Pancho was again on his feet; General Cornejo would
willingly have been so, likewise, but suddenly a knee pressed heavily
upon his chest, and obliged him to sink upon the ground.
"Pancho! Pancho!" Doña Maria cried, with the laugh of a demon, for it
was she, "see how I kill your enemies!"
Don Pancho had not even heard the exclamation of the courtesan, so
fully was he engaged in defending himself. At the sight of the odious
murder committed by the Linda, Don Ramón shouted--
"Viper! I will not kill you, because you are a woman; but I will mar
your future means of doing evil."
The Linda sank beneath his blow with a shriek of pain; he had slashed
her down the cheek from top to bottom! Her hyena-like cry was so
frightful that it even brought to a pause the combatants engaged around
her. Bustamente heard her, and with one bound of his horse was by the
side of his ancient mistress, whom the wound on her face rendered
hideous. He stooped slightly down, and seizing her by her long hair,
threw her across the neck of his horse; then plunging his spurs into
the animals flanks, he dashed, headforemost, into the thickest of the
_mêlée_. In spite of the efforts of the Chilians to recapture the
fugitive, he succeeded in escaping.
At a signal from Antinahuel, the Indians threw themselves on each side
of the defile, and scaled the rocks with incredible velocity under a
shower of bullets.
The combat was over. The Araucanos had disappeared. The Chilians
counted their losses, and found them great; seventy men had been
killed, and a hundred and forty-three were wounded. Several officers,
among whom was General Cornejo, had fallen. It was in vain they
searched for Joan. The intrepid Indian had become invisible.
Don Gregorio was in despair at the escape of General Bustamente. It was
now useless for Don Gregorio to return to Santiago; on the contrary, it
was urgent that he should return to Valdivia, in order to secure the
tranquillity of that province which would, no doubt, be disturbed by
the news of the generals escape; but, on the other hand, it was quite
as important that the authorities of the capital should be placed upon
their guard. Don Gregorio was in great trouble about choosing a person
whom he could trust with this commission, when the senator came to his
relief. The worthy Don Ramón had finished by taking courage in reality;
he actually, and in good faith, believed himself the most valiant man
in Chili, and, unconsciously, assumed the most ridiculously extravagant
airs. Above all, he burned with the desire of returning to Santiago.
Don Gregorio asked the senator to be the bearer of the double news of
the battle gained over the Indians--a battle in which he, Don Ramón,
had taken so large a share of the glory--and the unexpected escape of
General Bustamente.
Don Ramón accepted with a proud smile of satisfaction a mission in
every way so honourable to him. As soon as the despatches, which Don
Gregorio wrote at once, were ready, he mounted his horse, and, escorted
by fifty lancers, set out for Santiago.