The Crimson Conquest 16

The Crimson Conquest 16

Pizarro’s cold reserve had gone. Cristoval had rarely seen him smile

before: now he laughed, even roared, not pleasantly; and his pale

countenance showed unaccustomed color. The _veedor_ had pulled several

times at his sleeve, unheeded.

 

"Pizarro!" he whispered. "Pizarro! Hold off a bit! He would have

offered more, I am sure of it!"

 

Pizarro turned upon him with impatience: "Oh, a curse upon thy

money-gluttony, Rogelio! Hath it no bounds? Art insatiable? Be

silent!"

 

"He had opened his mouth to offer more, I’ll swear it! Oh, misery!"

snuffled the _veedor_, as he turned away.

 

The room was in a hubbub. Every man was on his feet, talking at the top

of his voice and gesticulating. Now the _chicha_ flowed without stint.

When the secretary entered and set about the work of drawing up the

agreement they crowded upon him, explaining, suggesting, and advising,

until in despair he appealed to the commander, and they were ordered

back while Pizarro dictated the document. Rogelio was a notary, and the

paper was duly attested and sworn to, the Inca looking on with interest,

and making his mark at last in accordance with a confusion of

instructions from the wrought-up Spaniards. The business finished, he

retired with a faint significant smile to Cristoval; but his going was

almost unnoted by the others, and they lingered over their _chicha_ and

their jubilation until the small hours, when the guard was summoned to

carry certain ones to their quarters. Rogelio was hauled from a corner,

and awoke to bitter tears and incoherent reproaches hurled against

Pizarro’s want of commercial sense. Pedro had appeared upon the scene

at its close, and directed the _veedor’s_ removal.

 

"What, my fat pet!" exclaimed the cook in commiseration. "What, Rogelio,

my barrel of grease! Melting thus in tears? Wasting thy blubber in

futile drippings? Prithee, now, check thy thaw! A most melancholy

deliquation, my friend! A sad prodigality of tallow! Come, stay thy

liquefaction! Swab, wipe, stop thy leaks, desiccate, run dry, my civil

officer of the Crown; thou’rt growing soggy!—What! Damn Pizarro?

Agreed!—Damn the Inca? Fie, my cherub!—Damn everybody? Ah! But with

one exception, and that’s Pedro, the cook. Now thou ’rt hiccoughing, and

I’m done with thee. _Adiós_, Rogelio, my lard-firkin! Good-night, my

Cupid!" and Pedro stumped away.

 

Without loss of time Atahualpa despatched his _chasquis_ to Cuzco and

other important towns, bearing orders that temples be dismantled of

their gold and silver decorations, that palaces be stripped of their

utensils; that, in short, the precious metals be drawn from every

possible source and forwarded with all speed to Caxamalca. The report

of the fabulous offer of ransom went abroad among the Spanish soldiers,

received by most of them with incredulity and jeers; by a few, with

riotous demonstrations of joy. The room was promptly measured. It was

found to be about seventeen feet broad, by twenty-two feet long, and the

height indicated by the Inca in the neighborhood of nine feet from the

floor. This space was to be filled with gold in two months, and a

smaller room adjoining to be twice filled with silver.

 

It was days before there were returns from the Inca’s orders;—days of

restlessness for him, for he was desperate to see the fulfilment of his

terms begun. Pizarro’s eagerness was hardly less, but it was tempered

with much doubt of Atahualpa’s ability to produce so vast a treasure.

 

At length, however, the first consignment arrived, borne on the backs of

porters. The news spread rapidly. The Indios were halted in the square

by an importunate rabble of soldiers, clamorous for a sight of their

burden, and made to open their packages. As the rich booty was

disclosed the soldiers stared a moment in stupefied silence, then raised

a shout. Others came running, gazed for a second, and added their

whoops. They went mad. They embraced one another, joined hands and

danced around the glowing yellow heap, bellowing their glee. They

mauled each other in heavy horse-play, roaring in uncouth laughter,

without words to fit their raptures. The Indian porters looked on,

wondering, as had the Inca, whether gold had not some hidden power to

give madness. The soldiers seized them, whirled them into their clumsy

fandango, clapped their backs and called them "_amigos_,"

"_hermanos_,"—friends and brothers,—and made them dizzy. Presently the

treasure was gathered up and borne by the singing, yelling mob in

triumph to Pizarro’s headquarters in tumultuous invasion. That night no

man slept.

 

Thereafter, the stream of gold flowed steadily into Caxamalca for weeks,

fortunes in a day. But soon came the inevitable reaction. Exultancy

gave place to uneasiness and discontent. The treasure did not come in

fast enough! The Inca was delaying for the purpose of gaining time to

prepare for hostilities! Even Pizarro became suspicious, and went to

Atahualpa with the charge. The Inca met him with a dignified reminder

of the distance to be traversed by the gold, and the difficulties of the

road. Pizarro was half satisfied; his soldiers less. Rumors

persistently arose of native uprisings to rescue the monarch and regain

the treasure, which the Spaniards could not conceive to be less an

object of greed to the Indios than to themselves. Pizarro bluntly

accused the Inca of conspiring against him, but Atahualpa disdained the

imputation. The event proved his innocence, for a reconnaissance by

Hernando Pizarro to the south not only failed to find disquiet, but was

received everywhere with good-will. For a time the suspicions were

allayed, only to rise again later in greater strength.

 

About this time an event occurred which still further strained the

relations between Pizarro and his captive. Huascar, Atahualpa’s

half-brother, then a prisoner at Xauxa, learned of the ransom being paid

the Spaniards, and sent secret emissaries offering an even greater price

for his own liberty. The negotiation was terminated suddenly by

Huascar’s death. Whether the unfortunate prince was executed by the

Inca’s order is a matter of doubt, but the fact that he was drowned in

the river Andamarca gives credit to the belief that he perished in an

attempt to escape.

 

As soon as the tragedy was reported to him the Inca sent for Pizarro and

informed him of Huascar’s death with every __EXPRESSION__ of regret,

apparently sincere.

 

"What!" shouted Pizarro, his face livid. "Huascar dead! What tale is

this? Beware trifling with me, my Lord Inca! You will produce your

brother in Caxamalca, alive and unharmed. This controversy between you

shall be tried in a Christian court, as I have said to you before. Seek

not to avoid it by subterfuge, my lord!"

 

"General Pizarro," replied the Inca, with dignity, "I have said that

Huascar is dead."

 

"Then, by the Eternal!" flamed Pizarro, "you shall pay for it with your

life!" and turning on his heel, he left the room.

 

 

 

 

*CHAPTER XI*

 

_*The Inca’s Last Prayer*_

 

 

Thereafter Pizarro’s interviews with the Inca were as few and brief as

possible. Indeed, after the night of the banquet the captive was rarely

seen by most of the Spanish officers, for, with the exception of

Hernando Pizarro, De Soto, and Peralta, they were seldom invited to the

palace. Now a settled melancholy had come over Atahualpa, which however

disguised, did not escape Cristoval. The depression of his captivity

was increased by the enmity which the Spanish commander took no further

pains to conceal. The grief of the Ñusta Rava for her brother,

moreover, had thrown a gloom over the palace, and deeply concerned

Atahualpa, who loved her with a brother’s solicitude and felt her

unhappiness more keenly than was apparent to one unable to penetrate the

impassiveness of his bearing.

 

The princess fully returned his attachment. She had been much with him

of late, and, with Toparca, had often taken part in his conversations

with Cristoval—a favor seldom accorded to the other Spaniards, by whom

the women of the Inca’s family were rarely seen. Now she kept the

seclusion of her apartments. Atahualpa missed her greatly, and

Cristoval often found him profoundly gloomy and distraught. The

cavalier encouraged him generously, doubtful himself, at times, of the

commander’s integrity, but daily more determined that the contract

should be carried out.

 

The summer had passed its height. About the middle of February Almagro

arrived with a hundred and fifty infantry and fifty horse, well

equipped, and Pizarro found himself able to resume activity. He began

preparations at once for the march to Cuzco. The ransom was almost made

up, and it was thought best to divide it without delay and continue the

campaign rather than give the Peruvians time to conceal their treasures,

which, it was suspected, they were already doing. Before making the

division it was necessary to reduce the whole to ingots of uniform

standard, and resort was had to the Indian goldsmiths. They were set to

work, but so great was the amount that a month passed before the task

was finished. At last the splendid collection, representing years of

work and the highest skill of native art, was a common heap of bars.

These weighed, the Spaniards found themselves possessors of 1,326,539

_pesos de oro_, more than fifteen million dollars of our present

currency. To this there were 413,000 ounces of silver in addition.

 

The division was made with solemnity. The companies were formed in the

square, and after invoking the Divine blessing upon the transaction, a

fifth part—the royal fifth, it was called—was deducted to be sent to the

Emperor Charles. The remainder was divided among the members of the

expedition according to rank.

 

Cristoval found himself rich. His share would be worth to-day something

over one hundred and fifty thousand dollars, but the humblest pikeman

was more rejoiced than he. Peralta was not more indifferent to wealth

than any other normal man, but this gold!—it was befouled. It reeked

with the massacre. He surveyed the yellow bars as they lay in the

treasure room of the palace, and thought of the captive prince, his