THE QUIPU.
After a frugal repast, the travellers were preparing to take a little
repose, when Cæsar barked furiously. Everyone flew to his arms. At
length the noise of steps was heard, the bushes were thrust apart,
and an Indian appeared. It was Antinahuel. At the sight of this man,
Rosario could not repress a cry of terror. Her mother threw herself
before her.
Antinahuel did not appear to perceive the presence of the young lady or
of the Linda; he advanced slowly, without moving a muscle of his face.
When within a few paces of Trangoil-Lanec, he stopped and saluted him.
"I come to sit at the fireside of my brother," he said.
"My brother is welcome," the chief replied.
"No, I only wish to smoke with my brother, for the sake of
communicating to him some important news."
"It shall be as my brother desires," Trangoil-Lanec replied.
The three Indians sat down with the ceremony usual upon such occasions.
They lit their pipes, and smoked silently. At length, after a
considerable time, Antinahuel began--
"Here," said he, "is the quipu, which the herald who came from
Paki-Pulli handed at about the seventh hour to me, Antinahuel, the son
of the Black Jackal."
He drew from under his poncho a light piece of wood, about ten inches
long, very thick split, and holding a human finger.
"My brother sees," Antinahuel continued, "that upon the black wool there
are four knots, to indicate that the herald left Paki-Pulli four days
after the moon; upon the white there are ten knots, which signify that
ten days after that period, that is to say, in three days, the four
confederated Uthal-mapus will take up arms, as has been agreed in a
grand auca-coyog convoked by the Toquis; upon the red I have made a
knot, which means that the warriors placed under my orders will join
the expedition, and that the chiefs may depend upon my concurrence.
Will my brothers follow my example?"
"My brother has forgotten to tell me one thing," Trangoil-Lanec replied.
"Let my brother explain himself," said Antinahuel.
"Against whom is this expedition?"
"Against the palefaces," he said, with a tone of mortal hatred.
"Very well," said Trangoil-Lanec, "my brother is a powerful chief, he
will give me the quipu."
Antinahuel handed it to him. The Araucano warrior received the quipu,
examined it, seized the red fringe and the blue fringe, he joined them,
made a knot over them, and passed the piece of wood to Curumilla, who
followed his example.
"My brothers, then," he said, "refuse their aid?"
"The chiefs of the four nations can do without us. The war is ended,
and this quipu is false. Why, when we came here, instead of presenting
us this false quipu, did not Antinahuel tell us frankly that he came in
search of his white prisoners, who have escaped? We would have replied
to him that these prisoners are henceforward under our protection."
"Is that your resolution," said Antinahuel.
"Yes; and my brother may be assured that we are not men to be easily
deceived."
The Toqui rose with rage in his heart.
"You are dogs and old women!" he said; "tomorrow I will come to retake
my prisoners."
The two Indians smiled contemptuously, and bowed gravely as a parting
salute to their enemy. The Toqui disdained to reply to this ironical
courtesy; he turned his back, and re-entered the wood with the same
slow, solemn step with which he had arrived, appearing to set his
adversaries at defiance. He had scarcely quitted the little camp, when
Trangoil-Lanec set off in his track.
Trangoil-Lanec was not long absent; he returned in less than an hour.
His companions saw him return with the greatest joy.
"Let my brothers open their ears," he said.
"We are listening, depend upon it," Valentine remarked.
"Antinahuel is encamped within a short distance; he knows now that we
are not strong enough to contend with him. What will my brothers do?
Our position is a serious one."
"Why did we not kill him?" Linda cried.
"No," he replied; "the Indian law prevented me; he presented himself as
a friend at my fireside; a guest is sacred."
"What is done cannot be undone," said Valentine; "so it is of no use
talking about it. We are in a scrape."
"We will die sooner than allow the wretch to take his prisoners again,"
said the count.
"That of course; but before we have recourse to that extreme measure,
we might find another."
"But, perhaps, we ought not to abandon ourselves to despondendency,"
Valentine rejoined, energetically; "we are four men of courage; we
ought not to despair."
Since Don Tadeo had recovered his daughter, he was no longer the same
man; he seemed only to live for her and through her. At that moment,
seated at the foot of a tree, he held Rosario on his knees, and was
rocking her like an infant. But, at Valentine's question, he raised his
head quickly.
"I will not have my daughter fall again into the hands of Antinahuel,"
he said, loudly; "happen what may, I will save her."
"We are all willing to do that, only the Indian chiefs are not
acquainted with the country; you, who are a Chilian, perhaps can give
us some useful information."
Don Tadeo reflected for an instant; he cast an inquiring glance round
upon the mountains, and then said:
"Those means I can furnish you with; we cannot be more than ten leagues
from one of my haciendas."
"Are you certain of that?"
"Yes, thank Heaven!"
"To be sure we are not!" the Linda cried, joyfully.
"And you believe that if we could reach that hacienda----"
"We shall be safe," Don Tadeo interrupted; "for I have there five
hundred devoted peons."
"Oh!" said the Linda, "do not lose an instant. Don Tadeo; write a word
to your major-domo; tell him what a desperate situation you are in, and
order him to hasten to your assistance."
"It is Heaven that inspires you, señora!" Don Tadeo cried.
"Oh!" the Linda replied, "it is because I would save my daughter!"
Doña Rosario fixed upon her eyes moist with tears, and said, in a voice
tremulous with tenderness:
"Thank you, my mother!"
Her daughter had pardoned her! The poor woman fell upon her knees on
the ground and clasped her hands.
In the meantime, Don Tadeo had written a few words in haste.
"We have no time to read the note now; someone must go at once," said
the count; "I undertake to convey it, only point me out the road."
"I know it," said Curumilla phlegmatically.
"Very well, in that case you shall accompany me."
"Ooch! I know a road by which we can be there in less than two hours."
"Let us begone, then."
"Watch over her!" said Louis.
"Bring back assistance quickly," Valentine replied.
"I will, or die in the attempt," replied the other.
And, clapping spurs to their horses, the two men were soon lost in a
cloud of dust. Valentine looked after his foster brother as long as he
was to be seen, then turning toward Trangoil-Lanec, said;
"And we must start directly?"
"Everything is ready," the chief replied.
"Now," Valentine said to Don Tadeo, "our fate is in the hands of God:
we have done everything it was humanly possible to do to escape capture
or death; upon His will now depends our safety."
"Valentine! Valentine!" Don Tadeo cried, warmly, "you are as devout as
you are intelligent. God will not abandon us."
"I trust He will hear you!" the young man said, in a melancholy tone.
"Courage, my daughter!" said the Linda, with an expression of infinite
tenderness.
"Oh! I fear nothing now," Rosario replied, with a cheerful smile; "have
I not my father near me, and--my mother, too," she added, kindly.
The Linda raised her eyes, humid with gratitude, towards Heaven.
Within ten minutes they were all mounted, and quitting the wood, they
followed at a sharp trot the road which the count and Curumilla had
taken at full speed.