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The Indians recognized the inutility of a pursuit across the sand; so they contented themselves with picking up their dead and counting the wounded, altogether some thirty victims.
"These Spaniards are perfect demons, when they are obstinate," Pincheira said, remembering his own origin.
"Yes," Nocobotha answered him, mad with fury, "if ever I place my foot on their chest, they will expiate the wrongs they have done my race for centuries."
"I am entirely devoted to you," Pincheira continued.
"Thanks, my friend. When the hour arrives, I shall remind you of your promise."
"I shall be ready; but at present what are your designs?"
"The scar that madman has made on my head compels me to fire the train as soon as possible."
"Do so, I pray; and let us finish with these accursed Spaniards so soon as we can."
"Then you really hate your countrymen?"
"I have an Indian heart, and that is saying enough."
"I will soon procure you the opportunity to slake your vengeance."
"May heaven hear you!"
"But the chiefs have again assembled round the council fire; come, brother."
Nocobotha and Pincheira approached the tree of Gualichu, where the Indians were grouped, motionless, silent, and calm, as if nothing had disturbed their gathering.
CHAPTER V.
THE COUNCIL OF THE ULMENS
The Indians, while collecting their dead, sought in vain the corpse of the white man, and persuaded themselves that his comrades had carried it off. The latter, on the other hand, reproached themselves bitterly for having left their brother's body in the hands of the Pagans.
Now, what had become of Pedrito?
The bombero was one of those iron men, whom a powerful will leads to their object, and whom death alone can conquer. He wished, therefore, to be present at the council of the chiefs, the high import of which he suspected; and instead of throwing his life away in an unequal struggle, he found in Nocobotha's shot the pretext he was seeking. As time pressed, he pretended, to be mortally wounded, and both friends and enemies had been duped by his stratagem.
So soon as he had slipped down off his horse, by favour of the darkness and combat, he was able, either by crawling like a lizard, or leaping like a cougar, to hide himself in the hollow trunk of the tree of Gualichu. There he buried himself beneath a pile of objects offered by the devotion of the Indians, and was as safe as in the fortress of Carmen. However, like a bold hunter, who has always time to be killed, he had not thrown his weapons away. His first care was, without respect for Gualichu, to wrap up his arm in a piece of cloth, in order to prevent the flow of blood from his wound; then he arranged himself as well as he could, with his head thrust slightly forward, to see the scene that was about to take place.
All the chiefs were already assembled, and Lucaney, Ulmen of the Puelches, was the first to speak.
"The Spaniard who dared to introduce himself among us, in order to violate the secret of our deliberations, is dead; we are alone; let us begin the ceremony."
"It shall be done, according to the desire of my brother, the Ulmen of the Puelches," Nocobotha answered; "where is the wise matchi?"
"Here," said a tall, thin man, whose face was striped in different colours, and who was dressed like a woman.
"Let the wise matchi approach and accomplish the rites."
"A matchitun is necessary," the sorcerer said, in a solemn voice.
The usual preparations for this conjuration were immediately made. Two lances were planted, one on the right, one on the left of the sacred tree; on the left hand one were hung a drum, and a vessel filled with fermented liquor; twelve other vessels, containing the same liquor, were ranged in a circle from one lance to the other. A sheep and a colt were brought in, and deposited near the vessels, and two old squaws placed themselves by the side of the drum. The preparations terminated, the matchi turned to Nocobotha.
"Why does the Ulmen of the Aucas ask for the matchitun?" he asked.
Metipan stepped out of the circle.
"An hereditary hatred has for a long time separated the Aucas and the Pehuenches," he said; "the interest of all the great nations desires the end of this hatred. Kelzulepan, my ancestor, Ulmen of the Pehuenches, carried off a white slave belonging to Medzeliputzi, Toqui of the Aucas, and great grandfather of Nocobotha."
"Before the assembled chiefs, in the face of heaven, I have come to tell Nocobotha, the descendant of Yupanqui, the son of the sun, that my ancestor behaved badly to his, and I am ready, in order to extinguish all discord, past, present, and future, to give him here a white, young, lovely, and virgin slave."
"I give up, before Gualichu," Nocobotha answered, "the hatred which my nation and I had sworn against you and yours."
"Does Gualichu approve our conduct?" Metipan asked.
The matchi seemed to reflect profoundly.
"Yes," he replied, "you have gained the protection of Gualichu; let the white slave be brought up; perhaps he will demand that she should be surrendered to him, instead of belonging to a man."
"His will be done," both Ulmens said.
Two warriors led up a girl of about seventeen, and placed her between the lances, with her face turned to the tree of Gualichu. On seeing her, Pedrito felt a cold perspiration break out all over him, and a mist covered his eyes.
"Whence comes this strange emotion?" the bombero muttered to himself.
The girl's large black eyes had an expression of gentle melancholy. She was dressed after the fashion of the Pehuenche women; the woollen quedito was rolled round her body, fastened on the shoulders by two silver pins, and on her limbs by a kepike, or silken girdle, six inches in width, and secured by a buckle. The two ends of a square pilken, like a cloak, was fastened on her chest by a topu, adorned with a magnificent head in gold. She had on her neck two collars of beads, and on each of her arms four bracelets of glass, pearls, and silver balls. Her long black hair was parted down the centre into two tresses, tied up with blue ribbons, which floated on her shoulders, and terminated in bells; on her head was a conical cap of blue and red beads.
At this graceful apparition the Indians, who are very fond of white women, could not, despite their natural stoicism, restrain a murmur of admiration.
At a signal from the matchi the ceremony began. The two old squaws beat the drum, while the spectators, guided by the sorcerer, struck up a symbolical song while dancing round the captive.
The drum ceased with the song; then the matchi lit a cigar, inhaled the smoke, and thrice perfumed the tree, the animals, and the maiden, whose bosom he at the same time laid bare. He put his mouth to it and began sucking till he drew blood, and the poor child made superhuman efforts not to shriek. The dancing, accompanied by song, began again, and the old women beat the drum with all the strength of their arms. Pedrito, full of compassion for the innocent victim of Indian superstition, longed to fly to her help.
In the meanwhile, the matchi, with his swollen cheeks, gradually became more excited; his eyes grew bloodshot, he seemed possessed by the demon, and all at once became furious; he writhed and behaved like an epileptic. Then the dance ceased, and Metipan, with a stroke of his machete, cut open the flank of the colt, tore out its still palpitating heart, and gave it to the sorcerer, who sucked the blood, and employed it to make a cross on the maiden's brow. The latter, suffering from inexpressible terror, began to tremble violently.
The storm, which had been gathering in the clouds, at length broke out. A blue flash shot athwart the sky, the thunder rolled with a terrible din, and a blast of wind dashed over the plain, sweeping away the toldos, the fragments of which it dispersed far and wide.
The Indians stopped, terrified by the storm. All at once a formidable voice, that appeared to issue from the tree of Gualichu, uttered the ill-omened words.
"Retire, Indians! My wrath is let loose upon you. Leave here this miserable white slave as an expiation of your crimes! Fly, and woe to those who look back. Woe! Woe!"
A livid flash and a violent peal of thunder served as peroration to this harangue.
"Let us fly!" said the matchi, who in his terror was ready to believe in his god.
But, profiting by this unexpected intervention to enforce his own power, he continued —
"Fly, brothers! Gualichu has spoken to his servant. Woe to those who resist his orders."
The Indians had no need of this recommendation from their sorcerer; a superstitious terror lent them wings. They rushed tumultuously toward the horses, and soon the desert echoed again with their wild flight. The tree of Gualichu was deserted, and the maiden alone lay fainting on the ground, with her bosom still bare.
When all was quiet on the Pampa, and the sound of the horses' gallop was lost in the distance, Pedrito gently thrust his head out of the tree, examined the black depths of the night, and reassured by the silence, ran up to the girl. Pale as a beauteous lily laid low by the storm, the poor girl had her eyes closed, and did not breathe. The bombero raised her in his muscular arms, and transported her close to the tree, laying her on a pile of skins belonging to a destroyed toldo. He placed her cautiously on this softer couch, and her head hung insensibly on his chest.
It was a strange group, in the midst of this devastated plain, only illumined by the lightning flashes. This young and lovely girl, and this rude wood ranger, offered a touching picture.
Pain and sorrow were delineated on Pedrito's face. He, whose whole life had been but one long drama, who had no faith in his heart, who was ignorant of gentle feelings and sweet sympathies, he, the bombero, the slayer of Indians, was moved and felt something new stir within him. Two heavy tears ran down his bronzed cheeks.
"Can she be dead? Oh Heaven!"
This name, which he had hitherto only used in blasphemy, he uttered almost with respect. It was a sort of prayer and cry from his heart. This man believed.
"How to help her?" he asked himself.
The rain that fell in torrents eventually restored the maiden, who, half opening her eyes, murmured in a faint voice;
"Where am I? What has happened?"
"She speaks, she lives, she is saved," Pedrito exclaimed.
"Who is there?" she asked, raising herself with difficulty.
At the sight of the bombero's gloomy face, she had a fresh outburst of terror, closed her eyes again, and fell back exhausted.
"Reassure yourself, my girl. I am your friend."
"My friend! What means that word? Have slaves any friends? Ah, yes," she continued, speaking as if in a dream, "I have suffered terribly. Still I can remember long, long ago, being happy, but alas! The worst misfortune is the recollection of past happiness in misery."
She was silent. The bombero gazed at her, and listened to her as if suspended on her lips. That voice, those features! A vague suspicion entered Pedrito's head.
"Oh, speak, speak again," he said, softening down the harshness of his voice, "what do you remember of your youthful years?"
"Why think of past joys in misfortune? What does it avail?" she added, shaking her head with discouragement. "My history is that of all unfortunate persons. There was a time when, like other children, I had the song of birds to lull me to sleep, flowers that smiled on me when I awoke, and a mother who loved and embraced me – all that has fled forever."
Pedrito had raised two poles covered with skins to shelter her from the storm, which was gradually subsiding.
"You are kind, for you have saved me; still, your kindness was cruel, for why did you not let me die? People who are dead no longer suffer. The Pehuenches will return, and then – "
She did not conclude, and buried her face in her hands, with choking sobs.
"Fear nothing, señorita; I will defend you."
"Poor man; alone against all! But before my last hour arrives, listen to me, for I wish to relieve my heart. One day I was playing in my mother's arms, my father was near us, with my two sisters and my four brothers, resolute men who would not have feared twenty. Well! the Pehuenches came up, they burned our estancia, for my father was a farmer, they killed my mother, and – "
"Mercedes, Mercedes!" the bombero exclaimed, "Is it really you? Do I find you again?"
"That was the name my mother gave me."
"It is I, Pedro, Pedrito, your brother," the bombero said, almost shouting with joy, and clasping her to his bosom.
"Pedrito! My brother! Yes, yes, I remember. Pedrito, I am – "
She fell senseless into her brother's arms.
"Wretch that I am, I have killed her! Mercedes, my beloved sister, come to yourself again, or I shall die."
The maiden opened her eyes again, and threw herself on the bombero's neck, weeping with joy.
"Pedrito! My kind brother, do not leave me, defend me; they would kill me."
"Poor girl, they will pass over my body before reaching you."
"They will do so," a sarcastic voice exclaimed behind the tent.
Two men appeared, Nocobotha and Pincheira. Pedrito, holding his sister, who was half-dead with terror, with his left hand, leant against one of the posts, drew his machete, and prepared for a vigorous defence.
Nocobotha and Pincheira, too enlightened to be the dupes of the mysterious voice of Gualichu, and yield to the general panic, had, however, fled with their comrades; but they had turned back unnoticed. Curious to know the meaning of this enigma, and the author of the mystification, they had listened to the entire conversation between brother and sister.
"Well," Pincheira said, with a laugh, "you seem tolerably lively for a dead man. It seems, Canario, that you must be killed twice, in order to make sure that you will not recover. But, be easy, if my friend missed you, I shall not do so."
"What do you want with me?" Pedrito said. "Let us pass."
"Not at all," Pincheira replied, "that would be rather too dangerous an example. And stay," he added, after listening, "do you hear that galloping? your affair is as good as settled, there are our mosotones coming back."
In fact, the sound of a cavalcade momentarily drew nearer, and in the pale gleam of dawn the dim outlines of numerous horsemen could be distinguished in the distance. Pedrito saw that he was lost; he kissed for the last time the pale brow of his unconscious sister, laid her behind him, crossed himself, and prepared to die as a brave man should.
"Come," said Nocobotha, "let us have an end of this; it looks as if this scoundrel were afraid of death."
"Make haste," Pincheira answered, "I hear our men, and if we do not make haste, our prey will be torn from us."
"You did not fancy you were speaking so truly, Señor Pincheira," Pepe exclaimed, suddenly appearing with his two brothers; "now, let us see who is to be killed."
"Thanks, my brave brothers," Pedrito said joyously.
"Malediction!" Pincheira said with an oath, "Are these scoundrels everywhere?"
"I will not have him escape me," Nocobotha muttered, as he bit his lips till the blood came.
"Fie on you, caballeros," Pepe exclaimed ironically. "On guard, defend yourselves like men, or I shall kill you like dogs."
The blades crossed, and the fight began with equal fury on both sides.
CHAPTER VI.
NOCOBOTHA
A struggle to the death was preparing between these irreconcilable enemies, the bomberos and the Indians; and on this occasion it seemed as if the advantage would be on the side of the brothers.
Mercedes, who had recovered from her fainting fit, felt so terrified that she regretted that she had awoken again.
After the first collision, Nocobotha fell back a step, lowered his weapon, made Pincheira a sign to imitate him, and with folded arms walked towards the brothers.
"Stay," he cried, "this fight will not take place; it is not proper for men to risk their lives in disputing for the possession of a woman."
An ironical smile contracted the bronzed faces Of Pedrito's brothers, while Pincheira stamped his foot impatiently. The Indian chief continued, without heeding these marks of disapproval —
"A man's blood is precious. Take away your sister, my good fellow. I give her to you; may she be happy with you."
"Our sister!" the three young men exclaimed with amazement.
"Yes," Pedrito said; "but what conditions do you exact?"
"None," the chief answered nobly.
Nocobotha's generosity was the more disinterested because the bomberos perceived by the first rays of the rising sun a band of nearly one thousand Indians, well equipped, and painted and armed for war, who had silently advanced and formed a a circle round them.
"Can we," Pedrito asked, "trust to your word, and have we no cause to fear a trap?"
"My word," the Ulmen answered haughtily, "is more sacred than that of a white man. We have, like you, noble feelings, more so, perhaps, than others," he added, pointing to a red line that traversed his face; "we know how to forgive. You are free, and no one will disturb your retreat."
Nocobotha followed the thoughts of the bomberos on their faces. The latter felt themselves conquered by the magnanimity of the chief, who smiled triumphantly on divining their astonishment and confusion.
"My friend," he said to Pincheira, "let fresh horses be given to these men."
Pincheira hesitated.
"At once," he said, with a gesture full of supreme grace.
The Chilian, who was a semi-savage, yielding involuntarily to Nocobotha's superiority, obeyed, and five horses of great value, and ready saddled and bridled, were led up by two Indians.
"Chief," Pedrito said, in a slightly shaking voice, "I am not grateful for my life, as I do not fear death; but, in my brothers' names and my own, I thank you for our sister. We never forget an insult or a kindness. Farewell! Perhaps I shall someday have the opportunity to prove to you that we are not ungrateful."
The chief bowed without answering. The bomberos grouped round Mercedes, returned his salute, and went off slowly.
"Well, it was your wish," Pincheira said, shrugging his shoulders in vexation.
"Patience!" Nocobotha answered, in a deep voice.
During this time an immense fire had been kindled at the foot of the tree of Gualichu, where the Indians, whose superstitious fears had been dissipated with the darkness, had again assembled in council. A few paces behind the chiefs, the Aucas and Puelche horsemen formed a formidable cordon round the council fire, while Patagonian scouts dashed about the desert to scare away intruders, and insure the secrecy of the deliberations.
In the east the sun was darting forth its flames, the dry and naked desert was blended with the illimitable horizon; in the distance the Cordilleras displayed the eternal snow of their peaks. Such was the landscape, if we may call it so, in which these barbarous warriors stood, dressed in strange costumes near the symbolic tree. This majestic scene involuntarily recalled other times and other climates, when, by the light of burning towns, the ferocious companions of Attila rushed to the conquest, and rejuvenescence of the Roman world.
Nocobotha took up his speech at the point where it had been interrupted by the unexpected interference of the bombero.
"I thank my brother Metipan," he said, "for the gift of the white slave. From this day our disagreement ceases; his nation and mine will form one and the same family, whose herds will peacefully graze on the same pasturage, and whose warriors will sleep side by side on the war track."
The matchi then lit a pipe, drew a few puffs, and handed it to the two chiefs, who smoked in turn, passing the pipe to each other till the tobacco was entirely consumed. Then the pipe was thrown on the fire by the matchi.
"Gualichu," he said, solemnly, "has heard your words. Swear that your alliance will not be broken until you can again smoke this pipe which is already reduced to ashes."
"We swear it."
The two Ulmens laid the left hand on the other's right shoulder, stretched out the right hand to the sacred tree, and kissed each other on the lips, saying —
"Brother, receive this kiss. May my lips wither and my tongue be torn out if I betray my oath."
All the Indians came, one after the other, to give the kiss of peace to the two Ulmens with marks of joy that were the more lively because they knew what great misfortunes this feud had already cost them, and how many times it had compromised the independence of the Indian tribes.
When the chiefs had returned to their places at the council fire, Lucaney bowed to Nocobotha.
"What communications did my brother wish to make to the Ulmens? We are ready to hear him."
Nocobotha seemed to reflect for a moment, and then looked confidently round the assembly.
"Ulmens of the Puelches, Araucanos, Pehuenches, Huileches, and Patagonians," he said, "for many moons past my mind has been sad. I see with grief our hunting grounds invaded by the white men, and daily growing more and more contracted. We whose countless tribes only a few centuries ago covered the vast tract of land contained between the two seas, are now reduced to a small band of warriors, who, timid as llamas, fly before our despoilers. Our sacred cities, the last refuges of the civilization of our fathers the Incas, are about to become the prey of these human-faced monsters who have no other God but gold. Our dispersed race will soon disappear from this world which it so long possessed and governed alone."
"Tracked like wild animals, brutalized by the firewater, and decimated by the sword and Spanish disease, our wandering hordes are but the shadow of a people. Our conquerors despise our religion, and they wish to bow us beneath the tree of the crucified man. They outrage our wives, kill our children, and burn our villages. Has the blood of your fathers become impoverished in the veins of all you Indians who are listening to me? Answer, will you die slaves, or live as free men?"
At these words, uttered in a masculine and penetrating voice, and whose effect was heightened by the most majestic gestures, a quiver ran along the assembly; they raised their heads haughtily and every eye flashed.
"Speak, speak again!" the electrified Ulmens shouted simultaneously.
The great Ulmen smiled proudly, and continued —
"The hour has at length arrived, after so much humiliation and wretchedness, to shake off the disgraceful yoke that presses on us. Within a few days, if you are willing, we will drive the whites far from our borders, and requite them all the evil they have done us. I have long been watching the Spaniards, and I know their tactics and resources; and in order to annihilate them we only need skill and courage."
The Indians interrupted him, with shouts of joy.
"You shall be free," Nocobotha continued. "I will restore you the rich valleys of your ancestors. This project has, ever since I have become a man, been fermenting in my head, and it has grown the life of my life. Far from you and me be the thought that I have any intention to force myself on you as chief and grand Toqui of the army! No; you must choose your leader freely, and after having elected him, obey him blindly, follow him everywhere, and pass through the most formidable perils. Do not deceive yourselves, warriors; our enemy is strong, numerous, and well disciplined, and, before all, is habituated to conquer us. Appoint a supreme chief – select the most worthy, and I will joyfully march under his orders. I have spoken: have I spoken well, powerful men?"
And, after bowing to the assembly, Nocobotha mingled with the crowd of chiefs, with a serene brow, but with his heart devoured by anxiety and hatred.
This eloquence, which was novel to the Indians, seduced, carried them away, and cast them into a species of frenzy. They almost regarded Nocobotha as a genius of a superior essence to their own, and bowed the knee to worship him, so straight had he gone to their hearts. For a long time the council was affected by a species of delirium, all speaking at once. When tranquillity was restored, the wisest among the Ulmens discussed the opportunity of taking up arms and the chances of success, and in the end the opinion was unanimous in favour of a general insurrection. The ranks, momentarily broken, were restored, and Lucaney, who was invited by the chiefs to make known the decision of the council, spoke as follows; —
"Ulmens, listen, listen, listen! This seventeenth day of the moon of Kekil-kiven it has been resolved by all the chiefs, each representing a nation or a tribe, assembled round the council fire in front of the sacred tree of Gualichu, and after the performance of the sacred rites to render the spirit favourable to us, that war is declared against the Spaniards, our despoilers. As the war is holy, and has liberty for its object, all will be expected to take part in it – men, women, and children; all to the extent of their strength. This very day the quipus will be sent to all the Indian nations."
A long cry of enthusiasm cheered Lucaney, but he continued after a while —
"The chiefs, after careful consideration, have chosen as supreme Toqui of all the nations, with uncontrolled and unlimited power, the wisest, the most prudent, and the man most worthy to command us. This warrior is the chief of the Aucas whose race is so ancient, Nocobotha is the descendant of the Incas, the son of the sun."
A thunder of applause greeted these last words Nocobotha walked into the centre of the circle, bowed to the Ulmens, and said, in a proud accent, "I accept. Ulmens, my brothers, in a year you shall be free, or myself dead."
"Long live the great Toqui!" the crowd shouted.
"War to the Spaniards!" Nocobotha continued; "A war without respite or mercy – a true wild beast hunt, such as they are accustomed to make on us. Remember the law of the Pampas: 'an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth.' Each chief will send the quipus to his nation, for at the end of this moon we will arouse our enemies by a thunderclap. Go, and lose no time. This night at the fourth hour we will meet again at the pass of the Guanaco, to elect the secondary chiefs, count our warriors, and fix the day and hour of attack."
The Ulmens bowed without replying, rejoined the escort, and soon disappeared in a cloud of dust.
Nocobotha and Pincheira remained alone, a detachment guarding them a little distance away. Nocobotha, with his arms folded, drooping head, and frowning brow, seemed plunged in profound thoughts.
"Well," Pincheira said, "we have succeeded."
"Yes," he answered; "war is declared, and I am the supreme chief; but I tremble at such a heavy task. Do those primitive men thoroughly understand? Are they ripe for liberty? Perhaps they have not as yet suffered enough. Oh! if I succeed!"
"You startle me, friend. What, then, are your plans?"
"It is true, you know nothing, but you are worthy of such an enterprise. I wish, understand me thoroughly; I wish – "
At this moment an Indian, whose horse, reeking with perspiration, seemed to breathe fire through its nostrils, came up to the two Ulmens, before whom he shopped dead, by a prodigy of horsemanship, as if converted into a granite statue. He bent down to Nocobotha's ear.
"Already!" the latter exclaimed; "Oh, there is not a moment to lose. Quick, my horse."
"What is the matter?" Pincheira asked him.
"Nothing that can interest you. Tonight at the pass of the Guanaco you shall know all."
"Are you going alone?"
"I must. Tonight we meet again."
Nocobotha's horse snorted, and dashed off like an arrow from a bow.
Ten minutes later all the Indians had disappeared, and solitude and silence reigned round the tree of Gualichu.
