THE INDIAN CAMP.
"And now, señorita," Pedrito asked Doña Concha when the boat was out of
sight, "What are your intentions?"
"To see Nocobotha in his camp."
"It is dishonour; it is death."
"No, Don Pedro, it is revenge."
"You mean it?"
"I am resolved."
"Good, I will myself lead you to the camp of the Aucas."
All three returned to Don Valentine Cardoso's house without exchanging
a word. Night had completely set in; the streets were deserted, the
silent town was illumined by the flames of Población del Sur, and the
diabolical outlines of the Indians could be seen passing among the
ruins and crumbling walls.
"Go and get ready, señoritas; I will wait for you here," Pedrito said
with a melancholy accent.
Mercedes and Doña Concha entered the house. Pedrito, thoughtful and
sad, sat down on one of the steps in front of the houses. The two
girls soon re-appeared, dressed in full Aucas' costume, with painted
faces, and impossible to recognize.
"Oh!" said the bombero, "Here are two real Indian girls."
"Do you believe," Doña Concha asked him, "that Don Torribio alone
possesses the privilege of changing himself at his pleasure."
"Who can contend with a woman?" Pedrito said, shaking his head; "And
now, what do you demand of me?"
"Your protection to the first Indian lines."
"And afterwards?"
"The rest is our business."
"But you do not intend to remain alone in the midst of the Pagans?"
"We must, Don Pedro."
"Mercedes," the latter continued, "do you wish to fall again into the
hands of your persecutors?
"Reassure yourself, brother; I run no risk."
"Still--"
"I answer for her," Doña Concha interrupted him.
"Well, Heaven be merciful to you!" he muttered, with an air of doubt.
"Let us start," said Don Sylvio's affianced wife, as she wrapped
herself up in a spacious cloak. Pedrito walked before them. The dying
fires of Carmen lit up the night with a pale and uncertain gleam; a
leaden silence brooded over the town, only interrupted at intervals
by the hoarse croaking of the birds of prey that were tearing the
Spanish and Indian corpses. The three persons walked through the ruins,
stumbling against tottering walls, striding over bodies, and disturbing
the horrible festival of the urubús and vultures which fled away with
heavy wings. They went through nearly the entire length of the town,
and at length arrived, after a thousand windings and difficulties, at
one of the barriers that faced the Indian camp, whose numerous fires
could be seen sparkling a short distance off, and from which fearful
yells reached their ears.
The bombero exchanged a few words with the sentries, and passed through
the barricade, followed by the two girls. Then he stopped.
"Doña Concha," he said, in a choking voice, "there is the Indian camp
before us."
"I thank you, Don Pedro," she answered, offering him her hand.
"Señorita," Pedrito added, retaining the young lady's hand, "there is
still time; give up your fatal plan, since your betrothed is saved, and
return to San Julian."
"Good-bye," Doña Concha answered resolutely.
"Good-bye," the worthy man repeated sorrowfully. "Mercedes, I implore
you to remain with me."
"Where she goes, I will go, brother."
The leave-taking was short, as may be supposed, and the bombero, so
soon as he was alone, uttered a sigh, or rather a burst of sorrow, and
returned to Carmen at a sharp pace.
"I trust I may not arrive too late," he said to himself, "and that he
has not yet seen Don Antonio Valverde."
He reached the fort at the moment when Don Torribio and the governor
were crossing the drawbridge, but absorbed in his own thoughts, he
did not perceive the two horsemen. This accident was the cause of an
irreparable misfortune.
As for the two girls, they proceeded haphazard toward the camp fires,
a short distance from which they halted to regain breath and calm the
movement of their hearts, which beat as if ready to start from their
breasts. When near the danger they voluntarily sought, they felt their
courage abandon them; the sight of the Indian toldos made their blood
run cold with terror. Strange to say, it was Mercedes who revived her
companion's firmness.
"Señorita," she said to her, "I will be your guide; we will leave these
cloaks here, which would cause us to be recognized as white persons.
Walk by my side, and whatever may happen, display neither surprise nor
fear, and before all say not a word, or it will be all over with us."
"I will obey," Concha answered.
"We are," Mercedes exclaimed, "two Indian girls who have made a vow
to Gualichu for the recovery of their wounded father. Remember, not a
word, my friend!"
"Let us go on, and may Heaven protect us."
"So be it!" Mercedes replied, crossing herself. They set out again, and
within five minutes entered the camp, where the Indians were giving way
to the most extravagant joy. Nothing could be heard on all sides but
songs and yells. Drunk with aguardiente, they danced in a burlesque
fashion among empty barrels, which they had plundered from Población
del Sur and the estancias. There was a wondrous disorder and a strange
confusion, and all these raving madmen even ignored the authority of
their Ulmens, the majority of whom, however, were in a state of the
most disgusting intoxication.
Owing to the general uproar, Concha and Mercedes were enabled to cross
the camp lines unseen; then, with palpitating hearts, limbs rigid with
terror, but calm faces, they glided like lizards through the groups,
passing unperceived by the drunken men, who stumbled against each
other at every moment. The girls seemed lost in this human labyrinth,
wandering haphazard, and trusting to Providence or their lucky stars
to discover the abode of the great Toqui in this confused mass of
toldos. They walked about for a long time, but rendered bolder by their
success in avoiding any unpleasant encounter, and feeling less timid,
they exchanged at times a hoping glance, till all at once an Indian of
athletic build seized Doña Concha round the waist, lifted her from the
ground like a child, and imprinted a hearty kiss on her neck.
At this unexpected outrage, Concha uttered a cry of terror, disengaged
herself from the Indian's grasp, and forcibly thrust him away from her.
The savage tottered on his drunken legs, and measured his length of six
feet on the ground; but he sprang up again at once and leapt on the
maiden like a jaguar.
Mercedes interposed between them.
"Back," she said, courageously, laying her hand on the Indian's chest,
"this woman is my sister."
"Churlakin," another chief said, "do not put up with an insult."
The savage frowned and drew his knife.
"Do you wish to kill her?" Mercedes exclaimed in horror.
"Yes," Churlakin answered, "unless she will follow me to my toldo,
where she will be the squaw of a chief--a great chief."
"You are mad," Mercedes retorted, "your toldo is full, and there is no
room for another fire." "There is still room for two fires," the Indian
answered, with a laugh, "and since this woman is your sister, you shall
come with her."
In the course of this discussion an impenetrable circle of savages
surrounded the two girls and Churlakin. Mercedes did not know how to
escape the danger.
"Well," Churlakin continued, seizing Doña Concha's hair, which he
rolled round his wrist, and brandishing his knife, "will you and your
sister follow me to my toldo?"
Doña Concha, who had sunk down to the ground, awaited the death-stroke
with pallid face and closed eyes. Mercedes drew herself and checked the
arm that was ready to strike.
"Since you insist on it, dog," she said to the chief, in a haughty
voice, "your destiny shall be accomplished. Look at me. Gualichu does
not allow his slaves to be insulted with impunity. Look at me!"
She turned her face towards a huge fire, flashing a few yards off, and
which threw a bright light over the surrounding objects. The Indians
uttered a cry of surprise on recognizing her, and fell back. Churlakin
himself let go of Doña Concha's hair.
"Oh!" he said, in consternation, "It is the white slave of the tree of
Gualichu."
The circle round the two girls had grown larger; but the superstitious
Indians, nailed to the ground by terror, looked at them fixedly.
"The power of Gualichu," Mercedes added, to complete her triumph, "is
great and terrible. It is he who sends me; woe to the man who would try
to thwart his designs; back, all of you."
And seizing the arm of Doña Concha, who was still trembling with
emotion, she advanced with a firm step. Waving her arm authoritatively,
the circle divided, and the Indians fell back to the right and left,
making way for them to pass.
"I feel as if I was dying," Doña Concha murmured.
"Courage, señorita, we are saved."
"Oh, oh!" a mocking voice said, "what is going on here?"
And a man placed himself in front of the girls, and looked impudently
at them.
"The matchi!" the Indians said, who, being reassured by the presence of
their sorcerer, again assembled round the prisoners.
Mercedes trembled inwardly on seeing her stratagem compromised by the
advent of the matchi, and at the suggestion of despair, she made a
final effort.
"Gualichu, who loves the Indians," she said, "has sent me to the matchi
of the Aucas."
"Ah!" the sorcerer answered, in a mocking accent, "And what does he
want with me?"
"No one but yourself must hear it."
The matchi walked up to the maiden, laid his hand on her shoulder, and
looked at her with a longing air.
"Will you save me?" she asked him in a low voice.
"That depends," the fellow answered, his eye sparkling with desire, "it
is in your own hands." She repressed a look of disgust.
"Stay," she said, as she removed from her arms her rich gold bracelets,
set with fine pearls.
"Och!" said the Indian, as he concealed them in his bosom, "That is
fine; what does my daughter want?"
"Deliver us first from these men."
"Fly!" the matchi shouted, turning to the spectators; "This woman is
under an evil spell; Gualichu is irritated. Fly!"
The sorcerer had immediately put on a face adapted to the
circumstances; his mysterious conversation with the white woman and the
terror depicted on his features were sufficient for the Indians, who,
without stopping to ask any questions dispersed in all directions, and
disappeared behind the toldos.
"You see," the sorcerer said, with a smile of pride, "I am powerful,
and can avenge myself on those who deceive me. But where does my white
daughter come from?"
"From the tree of Gualichu," she answered boldly.
"My daughter has the forked tongue of the cougar," the matchi replied,
who believed neither in his own words nor in his god; "does she take me
for a ñandu?"
"Here is a magnificent collar of pearls which Gualichu gave me for the
inspired man of the Aucas."
"Oh," said the sorcerer, "what service can I render my daughter?"
"Lead us to the toldo of the great chief of the Patagonian nations."
"Does my daughter desire to speak with Nocobotha?"
"I do."
"Nocobotha is a wise chief; will he receive a woman?"
"He must."
"It is well. But this other woman?" he asked, pointing to Doña Concha.
"She is a friend of Pincheira's; she also wishes to speak with the
great Toqui."
"The warriors will spin llama wool," the sorcerer said, shaking his
head, "since women wage war and sit at the council fire."
"My father is mistaken; Nocobotha loves his sister."
"No," the Indian said.
"Will my father make haste? Nocobotha is waiting for us," Mercedes
continued, impatient at the savage's tergiversation; "where is the
toldo of the great chief?"
"Follow me, my white daughters."
He placed himself between them, seized an arm of each, and guided
them through the inextricable labyrinth of the camp. The terrified
Indians fled as they passed. In his heart the matchi was satisfied with
Mercedes' presents, and the opportunity for proving to the warriors his
intimate relations with Gualichu. The marching and counter-marching
lasted a quarter of an hour, and at last they found themselves before a
toldo, in front of which was planted the token of the united nations,
surrounded by lances fringed with scarlet, and guarded by four warriors.
"It is here," he said to Mercedes.
"Good! My father will let us go in alone."
"Must I leave you, then?"
"Yes, but my father can wait for us outside."
"I will wait," the sorcerer said briefly, as he looked suspiciously at
the maidens.
They went in with sorely beating hearts. The toldo was empty.