[Illustration: The friar urges Pizarro to attack the Peruvians]
Meanwhile, a desperate struggle was going on for the person of the Inca.
His nobles surrounded and faithfully strove to defend him; as fast as
one was cut down another took his place, and with their dying grasp they
clung to the bridles of the cavaliers, trying to force them back.
Atahuallpa sat as one stunned in his swaying litter, forced this way and
that by the pressure of the throng. The Spaniards grew tired at last of
the work of destruction, and, fearing that in the gathering darkness the
Inca might after all escape them, they made an attempt to end the fray
at once by taking his life. But Pizarro, seeing this, cried out in a
mighty voice, 'Let no man who values his life strike at the Inca,' and,
stretching out his arm to shield him, received a wound on the hand from
one of his own men--the only wound received by any Spaniard in the
action. The strife now became fiercer round the litter, and several of
the nobles who bore it having been slain, it was overturned, and the
Inca would have come violently to the ground had not Pizarro and some of
his men caught him in their arms. A soldier instantly snatched the
crimson fringe from his forehead, and the unhappy monarch was taken into
the nearest building and carefully guarded. All attempt at resistance
now ceased. The news of the Inca's fate spread over town and country,
and the only thing which had held them together being gone, each man
thought only of his own safety. The Spaniards pursued the fugitives till
night fell and the sound of the trumpet recalled them to the square of
Caxamalca. That night the Inca supped with Pizarro as he had said, while
ten thousand of his faithful followers lay dead about the city.
He seemed like one in a dream, not understanding the calamity that had
fallen upon him. He even commended the adroit way in which the Spaniards
had entrapped him, adding that since the landing of the white men he had
been made aware of all their doings, but had felt sure of being easily
able to overpower them as soon as he thought fit to do so, and had
allowed them to reach Caxamalca unmolested because he desired to see
them for himself, and to obtain possession of their arms and horses.
This, at least, was the interpretation of what the Inca said given by
Felipillo; but he was a malicious youth, who bore Atahuallpa no good
will, and the Spaniards were only too ready to believe anything that
seemed to justify their cruel deeds. Pizarro replied that the fate of
the Inca was the lot that fell to all who resisted the white men, but he
bade Atahuallpa take courage, for the Spaniards were a generous race,
warring only against those who would not submit themselves. That same
night the general reviewed his men, congratulating them upon the success
of their stratagem, but warning them to be strictly upon their guard,
since they were but a handful of strangers in the heart of a mighty
kingdom, encompassed by foes who were deeply attached to their own
sovereign. Next morning, the prisoners, of whom there were many in the
camp, were employed in burying the dead and removing all traces of the
massacre, while a troop of Spaniards was despatched to spoil the camp of
Atahuallpa and scatter the remnant of the Peruvian forces. At noon this
party returned, bringing the wives and attendants of the Inca, and a
rich booty in gold, silver, emeralds, and other treasures, beside droves
of llamas.
Pizarro would now have liked to march directly upon the capital, but the
distance was great and his force was small. So after sending a message
to San Miguel for reinforcements, he set his men to work at rebuilding
the walls of Caxamalca, and fitting up a church, in which mass was
celebrated daily. Atahuallpa soon discovered that gold was what the
Spaniards chiefly coveted, and he determined to try and buy his freedom,
for he greatly feared that Huascar might win back his liberty and his
kingdom if the news once reached him of his brother's captivity. So he
one day promised Pizarro to fill with gold the room in which they stood,
not merely covering the floor, but piling it up to a line drawn round
the walls as high as he could reach, if he would in return set him free.
The general hardly knew how to answer. All he had seen confirmed the
rumours of the wealth of the country, and if it could be collected thus
by the Inca's order, he might really hope to secure it, whereas if he
trusted to being able to seize it for himself the chances were that most
of it would disappear for ever, hidden by the natives beyond recovery.
At all events he decided it would be safe to agree to Atahuallpa's
proposal; when the gold was collected it would be time enough to think
about setting the captive at liberty. The room to be filled was
seventeen feet broad by twenty-two feet long, and the line upon the wall
was drawn nine feet from the ground. A smaller room which adjoined it
the Inca offered to fill with silver twice over, and he demanded two
months' time to accomplish all this.
As soon as the arrangement was made, Atahuallpa sent couriers to Cuzco
and all the other chief places in the kingdom, with orders to strip the
royal palaces of their treasures and send them without delay to
Caxamalca. Meanwhile he lived in the Spanish quarters, treated with
consideration, and allowed to see his subjects freely, but at the same
time strictly guarded.