Gustave Aimard
The Pearl of the Andes: A Tale of Love and Adventure

CHAPTER V.
AN INDIAN'S LOVE

The Linda rejoined Antinahuel, who, knowing what torture she was preparing to inflict on the young girl, had stopped at a short distance from the spot where he had left her.

When they reached the toldería, the horsemen dismounted and the maiden was untied and transported, half dead, into the same cuarto where, an hour before, she had, for the first time, found herself in the presence of the courtesan.

The appearance of Rosario was really frightful, and would have excited pity in anybody but the tigress whose delight it was to treat her so cruelly. Her long hair hung in loose disorder upon her half-naked shoulders, and at various spots adhered to her face through the blood which had flowed from her wound; her face, soiled with blood and dirt, wore a greenish cast, and her half-closed lips showed that her teeth were tightly clenched. Her wrists and ankles, to which still hung strips of the thick cord by which she had been fastened to the horse, were frightfully bruised and discoloured. Her delicate frame was convulsed with nervous quiverings, and her faint breathing painfully issued from her heaving chest.

"Poor girl!" the chief murmured.

"Why, chief!" said the Linda, with a sardonic smile. "I scarcely know you! Good Heavens! how love can change a man! What, you, intrepid warrior, pity the fate of this poor maudlin chit! I really believe you will weep over her like a woman, next!"

"Yes," the chief said; "my sister speaks truly, I scarcely know myself! Oh!" he added, bitterly, "is it possible that I, Antinahuel, to whom the Huincas have done so much wrong, can be so? This woman is of an accursed race; she is in my power, I could avenge myself upon her, satisfy the hatred that devours me, make her endure the must atrocious injuries! – and, I dare not! – no, I dare not!"

"Does my brother, then, love this woman so much?" the Linda asked, in a soft, insinuating tone.

Antinahuel looked at her as if she had awakened him suddenly from his sleep; he fixed his dull eyes upon her, and exclaimed —

"Do I love her? – love her! – let my sister listen. Before dying, and going to hunt in the blessed prairies with the just warriors, my father called me to him, and placing his mouth to my ear – 'My son, he said, thou art the last of our race; Don Tadeo de León is also the last of his; since the coming of the palefaces, the family of that man has been always fatally opposed to ours, everywhere and under all circumstances. Swear to kill that man whom it has never been in my power to reach!' I swore to do it. Good!' he said, Pillian loves children who obey their father; let my son mount his best horse, and go in search of his enemy. Then, with a sigh, my father bade me depart. Without replying, I saddled, as he had commanded me, my best horse, and went to the city called Santiago, resolved to kill my enemy."

"Well?" the Linda asked, seeing him stop short.

"Well!" he resumed, "I saw this woman, and my enemy still lives." The Linda cast upon him a look of disdain; but Antinahuel did not remark it – he continued —

"One day this woman found me dying, pierced with wounds; she made her peons bear me to a stone toldo, where for three months she watched over me, driving back the death which had hung over me."

"And when my brother was cured?" the Linda asked eagerly.

"When I was cured," he resumed, passionately, "I fled away like a wounded tiger, bearing in my heart an incurable wound! Two suns ago, when I was quitting my toldería, my mother, whom I loved and venerated, wished to oppose my departure; she knew that it was love that attracted me from her, that it was to see this woman I left her. Well, my mother – "

"Your mother?" the courtesan said, breathlessly.

"As she persisted in not allowing me to depart, I trampled her, without pity, beneath the hoofs of my horse!" he cried, in almost a shriek.

"Oh!" exclaimed the Linda, recoiling.

"Yes! it is horrible, is it not, to kill one's mother? Now!" he added, with a frightful mocking laugh, "will my sister ask again if I love this woman? For her sake, to see her, to hear her address to me one of those sweet words which she used to speak near me, or only to see her smile, I would joyfully sacrifice the most sacred interests. I would wade through the blood of my dearest friends – nothing should stop me!"

The Linda, as she listened to him and observed him, reflected deeply, and as soon as he ceased she said —

"I see that my brother really loves this woman. I was deceived, I must repair my fault."

"What does my sister mean?"

"I mean, that if I had known, I should not have inflicted so severe a chastisement."

"Poor girl!" he sighed.

The Linda smiled ironically to herself. "But my brother does not know what palefaced women are," she continued; "they are vipers, which you endeavour in vain to crush, and which always rise up again to sting the heel of him who places his foot upon them. It is of no use to argue with passion, were it not so I would say to my brother, 'Be thankful to me, for in killing this woman I preserve you from atrocious sorrow.'"

Antinahuel moved uneasily.

"But," she continued, "my brother loves, and I will restore this woman to him; within an hour I will give her up to him."

"Oh! if my sister does that," Antinahuel exclaimed, intoxicated with joy, "I will be her slave!"

Doña Maria smiled with an undefinable expression.

"I will do it," she said, "but time presses, we cannot stay here any longer – my brother doubtless forgets."

Antinahuel darted a suspicious glance at her.

"I forget nothing," he replied; "the friend of my sister shall be released."

"Good! my brother will succeed."

"Still, I will not depart till the blue-eyed maiden has recovered her senses."

"Let my brother hasten to give orders for our departure in ten minutes."

"It is good!" said Antinahuel; "in ten minutes I shall be here."

He left the cuarto with a hasty step. As soon as he was gone, the Linda knelt down by the young girl, removed the cords that still cut her flesh, washed her face with cold water, fastened up her hair, and carefully bandaged the wound on her forehead.

"Oh!" she thought, "through this woman I hold you, demon!"

She softly raised the maiden, placed her in a high-backed chair, remedied, as well as she was able, the disorder in her dress, and then applied a phial of powerful salts to her nostrils.

These salts were not long in producing their effect; she breathed a deep sigh, and opened her eyes, casting round vague and languid looks. But suddenly her eye fell upon the woman who was lavishing her cares upon her; a fresh pallor covered the features, which had begun to be slightly tinged with red, she closed her eyes, and was on the point of fainting again. The Linda shrugged her shoulders, took a second phial from her bosom, and opening the poor girls mouth introduced a few drops of cordial between her livid lips. At that moment Antinahuel returned.

"Everything is ready," he said; "we can depart immediately."

"When you please," Doña Maria replied.

"What is to be done with this girl?"

"She will remain here: I have arranged everything."

"Let us be gone, then!" and turning towards Rosario, she said, with a malignant smile. "Farewell, till we meet again, señorita!"

Doña Rosario rose, and said in an earnest tone, "I do not curse you; but God grant, if you ever have children, that they may never be exposed to the tortures you have condemned me to endure."

On hearing this speech, which seared her heart like a red-hot iron, the Linda uttered a cry of terror; a cold perspiration beaded on her pale forehead, and she staggered out of the apartment.

"My mother! my mother!" cried Rosario; "if you still live, where are you? Why do you not come to the help of your daughter?"

CHAPTER VI.
PREPARATIONS FOR DELIVERANCE

The little troop of cavalry, at the head of which Antinahuel and the Linda rode, advanced rapidly and silently along the road from San Miguel towards the valley in which, the day before, the renewal of the treaties had been accomplished. At sunrise they debouched into the plain. They had scarcely advanced fifty paces when they saw a horseman coming at full speed towards them. This horseman was Black Stag: Antinahuel halted his escort.

"What is the use of this halt?" Doña Maria observed.

"Is my sister a soldier?" Antinahuel asked.

Doña Maria, mortified at this rude speech, reined in her horse and remained a few paces in the rear, so that Antinahuel was left alone at the head of his troop. At the expiration of five minutes Black Stag pulled up his horse.

"Has my father returned among his children?" he said, bowing his head as a salutation to the chief.

"Yes!" Antinahuel replied. "What has my son done during my absence?"

"I have executed the orders of my father."

"All of them?"

"All!"

"Good! Has my son received any news of the palefaces?"

"A strong body of the Chiaplos is preparing to quit Valdivia to repair to Santiago."

"Good! With what purpose?"

"They are taking to Santiago the prisoner named General Bustamente."

Antinahuel turned towards the Linda, and exchanged a glance of intelligence with her.

"For what day have the Huincas fixed their departure?"

"They are to set out the day after tomorrow."

Antinahuel reflected for a few minutes.

"This is what my son will do," he said. "In two hours he will strike his camp, and direct his course toward the Canyon del Rio Seco, where I will go and wait for him."

"I will obey!" said the Black Stag, bowing his head affirmatively.

"Good! My son is an experienced warrior; he will execute my orders with intelligence."

The man smiled with pleasure at receiving this praise from his chief; after bowing respectfully before him, he made his horse curvet gracefully, and set off with his followers.

Antinahuel took the road towards the mountains at a sharp trot. After riding silently for some time by the side of Doña Maria, he turned towards her graciously, and said —

"Does my sister understand the tenor of the order I have just given?"

"No!" she replied, with a slight tinge of irony; "as my brother has well remarked, I am not a soldier."

"My intentions are very simple," he replied; "the Canyon del Rio Seco is in a narrow defile which the palefaces are obliged to cross. Fifty chosen warriors can here contend with advantage against twenty times their number. It is in that place I am determined to wait for the Huincas. The Moluchos will take possession of the heights; and when the palefaces have entered that passage without suspicion, I will attack them on all sides."

"Does there, then, exist no other road to Santiago?"

"None; they must go that way."

"Then they are doomed!" she joyfully exclaimed.

"Without doubt!" he said proudly; "the Canyon del Rio Seco is celebrated in our history."

"Then my brother can answer for saving Don Pancho Bustamente?"

"Yes, unless the sky falls!" he said, with a smile.

CHAPTER VII.
A COUNTERMINE

As Trangoil-Lanec had predicted, Louis recovered from the effects of his wounds with surprising rapidity. Whether it was owing to his ardent desire to commence his researches, or to the goodness of his condition, we will not say; but on the eve of the day fixed for the departure he was quite on the alert, and told Don Tadeo he was ready to start whenever he pleased.

He was the more anxious to depart in that Valentine, his dog Cæsar, and Trangoil-Lanec had been absent three days, and no tidings had been received. Curumilla had not come back. All these circumstances augmented in an enormous degree the impatience of the count; whilst, on his part, Don Tadeo was not much more easy. The poor father shuddered at the idea of the suffering to which his child was exposed.

And yet there was mingled an undefinable joy at thinking of the tortures he should inflict, in his turn, upon Doña Maria, when revealing to her that the person she had taken so much delight in martyrizing was her own daughter. Don Tadeo, a man of elevated mind, endeavoured to shake off this unworthy thought, but it persisted in recurring with tenacity.

Don Gregorio, in whose hands Don Tadeo had placed his power and authority, urged on by Louis, hastened the preparations for the departure on the morrow. At about eight o'clock in the evening. Don Gregorio, after giving certain instructions in one of the private apartments of the cabildo to General Cornejo and the senator Sandias, who were to conduct Don Pancho to Santiago, had dismissed them, and was conversing with Don Tadeo, when the door was thrown open, and a man entered. On seeing him, they uttered a general cry of joy and astonishment. It was Curumilla!

"At last!" Louis and Don Tadeo exclaimed.

"I am here!" the Ulmen replied, sorrowfully.

As the poor Indian seemed quite exhausted with fatigue and want of food, they made him sit down. In spite of all his Indian stoicism, Curumilla literally seized the food as soon as it appeared, and devoured it greedily.

As soon as the keenness of his appetite was a little abated, Curumilla related the full details of all that had happened since his departure from the camp, the manner in which he had delivered the young lady, and how, an hour after, she had been recaptured by her enemies. When he quitted Doña Rosario the brave Indian had only kept at a sufficient distance from her to avoid being himself taken by her ravishers.

Don Tadeo and the count warmly thanked him.

"I have done nothing yet," he said, "since all must be begun again; and now," he added, "it will be more difficult, for they will be on their guard."

"Tomorrow," Don Tadeo replied, warmly, "we will set out all together on the track."

"Yes," the chief said, "I am aware you are to depart tomorrow."

The three men looked at each other with astonishment; they could not understand how the news of their movements should be known.

"There are no secrets for Aucas, when they wish to know them," the chief said with a smile.

"It is impossible!" Don Gregorio exclaimed angrily.

"Let my brother listen," the chief replied quietly. "Tomorrow, at sunrise, a detachment of a thousand white soldiers will leave Valdivia to conduct the prisoner Bustamente to Santiago. Is it not so?"

"Yes," Don Gregorio replied, "I must admit that what you say is correct."

"Well," said the Ulmen smiling, "I cannot deny that the man who gave me these details had no suspicion that I overheard him."

"Explain yourself, chief, I implore you!" Don Tadeo cried; "we are upon burning coals."

"I have told you that I followed Antinahuel's party; I must add that occasionally I got before them. The day before yesterday, at sunrise, the Black Stag, who was left with Antinahuel's warriors during his absence, was on the prairie of the treaties, and as soon as he saw his chief, galloped to meet him. As I had no doubt that these two men, during their conference, would allow some words to escape that might afterwards be of service to me, I drew as close to them as possible, and that is the way they placed me in possession of their projects."

"Of their projects?" Don Gregorio asked, "are they mad enough, then, to think of attacking us?"

"The pale woman has made Antinahuel swear to deliver her friend, who is a prisoner."

"Well! and what then?"

"Antinahuel will deliver him."

"Ay, ay!" said Don Gregorio, "but that project is more easily formed than executed, chief."

"The soldiers are obliged to traverse the Canyon del Rio Seco."

"No doubt they are."

"It is there that Antinahuel will attack the palefaces with his mosotones."

"Sangre de Cristo!" Don Gregorio exclaimed, "What is to be done?"

"The escort will be defeated," Don Tadeo observed.

Curumilla remained silent.

"Perhaps not!" said the count: "I know the chief; he is not the man to cause his friends embarrassment without having the means of showing them how to avoid the peril he reveals to them."

"Unfortunately," Don Tadeo replied, "there exists no other passage but that cursed defile; it must absolutely be cleared, and five hundred resolute men might not there only hold a whole army in check, but cut it to pieces."

"That may be all very true," the young man replied persistently; "but I repeat what I have said – the chief is a skilful warrior, his mind is fertile in resources."

Curumilla smiled and nodded.

"I was sure of it!" Louis cried. "Now then, chief, speak out! Do you not know a means of enabling us to avoid this dangerous passage?"

"I will not certify that," the Ulmen replied; "but if my brothers the palefaces will consent to allow me to act, I will undertake to foil the plans of Antinahuel and his companions."

"Speak! speak, chief!" the count exclaimed, vehemently; "explain to us the plan you have formed; these caballeros rely entirely upon you."

"Yes," Don Tadeo replied, "we are listening to you anxiously, chief."

"But," Curumilla resumed, "my brothers must act with caution. I require to be left absolute master."

"You have my word, Ulmen," said Don Gregorio; "we will only act as you command us."

"Good!" said the chief; "let my brothers listen."

And without more delay he detailed to them the plan he had formed, and which, as might be expected, obtained the general assent. Don Tadeo and the count entered enthusiastically into it, promising themselves the happiest results. By the time the last measures were agreed to and all was arranged the night was far advanced, and the four speakers stood in need of some repose. Curumilla in particular, having slept but little for several days, was literally sinking with fatigue. Louis alone appeared to require no repair for his strength. But prudence demanded that a few hours should be given to sleep, and, in spite of the counts remonstrances, they separated.

The young man, forced to submit to the reasons of the experienced men who surrounded him, retired with a very bad grace, promising himself in petto not to let his friends forget the hour fixed upon for their departure.

Louis felt it was impossible to follow their example, and impatience and love – those two tyrants of youth – heated his brain, he ascended to the roof of the palace, and with his eyes fixed upon the lofty mountains, whose dark shadows were thrown across the horizon, he gave all his thoughts to the fair Rosario.

Louis, abandoning himself to delightful thoughts, thus dreamed through the night, and did not think of descending till the stars successively disappeared in the depths of the heavens, and a pale whiteness began to tinge the horizon. In that climate this announced the speedy approach of day.

CHAPTER VIII.
EL CANYON DEL RIO SECO

At about ten leagues from San Miguel de la Frontera, a miserable town peopled by some twenty or thirty Huiliche shepherds, on the road to Arauca, the land rises rapidly, and suddenly forms an imposing wall of granite, the summit of which is covered with virgin forests of firs and oaks, impenetrable to the sun. A passage of twenty yards at most, is opened by nature through this wall. Its length is more than a mile, forming a crowd of capricious, inextricable windings, which appear constantly to turn back upon themselves. On each side of this formidable defile, the ground, covered with trees and underwood, stage above stage, is capable, in case of need, of offering impregnable intrenchments to those who defend the passage.

This place is named El Canyon del Rio Seco, a name common in America, because not only has vegetation long since covered the face of this wall with an emerald carpet, but it is evident that in remote periods a channel by which the waters of the upper plateaus of the Andes, overflowing, either in consequence of an earthquake or some natural inundation, pour down to the plain – had violently and naturally cut itself a passage to the sea.

Antinahuel, followed closely by the Linda, who wished to see everything for herself, visited the posts, gave short and precise instructions to the Ulmens, and then regained the bivouac he had chosen, and which formed the advanced guard of the ambuscade.

"Now, what are we going to do?" Doña Maria asked.

"Wait," he replied.

And folding himself in his poncho, he laid down on the ground and closed his eyes.

On their side, the Spaniards had set out a little before daybreak. They formed a compact troop of five hundred horsemen, in the centre of whom rode without arms, and between two lancers, charged to blow out his brains at the least suspicious action, General Bustamente.

In advance of this troop, there was another of an almost equal force; this was, in appearance, composed of Indians. We say in appearance, because the men were in reality Chilians, but their Araucano costume, their arms, even to the caparison of their horses, in short, everything in their disguise, was so exact, that at a short distance it was impossible for even the experienced eyes of the Indians themselves to detect them. These apparent Indians were commanded by Joan.

When arrived at mid-distance between Valdivia and the Canyon, the hindermost troop halted, whilst that commanded by Joan continued its march, but slowly, and with increased precaution. Four horsemen closed the rear; Don Tadeo, Don Gregorio, the count, and Curumilla, who were engaged in earnest conversation.

"Then you persist in having nobody with you?" said Don Gregorio.

"Nobody; we two will be quite sufficient," Curumilla replied, pointing to the young Frenchman.

"Why will you not take me with you?" Don Tadeo asked.

"I thought you would prefer remaining with your soldiers."

"I am anxious to join my daughter as soon as possible."

"Come, then, by all means. You," turning to Don Gregorio, "will remember that nothing must induce you to enter the defile before you see a fire blazing on the summit of the Corcovado."

"That is perfectly understood, so now farewell."

After exchanging hearty shakes of the hand, the four men separated. Don Gregorio galloped after his troops, whilst Don Tadeo and the count, guided by Curumilla, began to climb the mountain. They continued to ascend for more than an hour, and at last reached a platform of considerable extent.

"Dismount," he said; Curumilla setting the example, which his companions followed.

"Let us unsaddle our horses," the chief continued. "We shall not want the poor beasts for some time. I know a place, not far off, where they will be comfortably sheltered, and where we can find them when we come back – if we do come back," he added.

"Holloa, chief!" Louis exclaimed, "Are you beginning to be apprehensive?"

"Och!" the Ulmen replied, "my brother is young, his blood is very warm; Curumilla is older, he is wise."

"Thanks," the young man said, "it is impossible to tell a friend that he is a fool more politely."

The three men continued to ascend, dragging their horses after them by their bridles, which was no easy matter in a narrow path where the animals stumbled at every step. At length, however, they gained the entrance of a natural grotto, into which they coaxed the noble creatures. They supplied them with food, and then closed up the entrance of the grotto with large stones, leaving only a narrow passage of air.

"Now let us begone," said Curumilla.

They threw their guns upon their shoulders, and set forward with a resolute step. After three quarters of an hour of this painful ascent the Ulmen stopped.

"This is the place," he said.

The three men had attained the summit of an elevated peak, from the top of which an immense and splendid panorama lay unrolled before their eyes.