The Crimson Conquest 4

The Crimson Conquest 4

She took a step forward and said gently, "Pedro—" Pedrillo entered,

almost embraced by his master, who at once became feverishly occupied in

a variety of duties. The señora tarried a moment and withdrew, with a

smile to Pedro, who sank into a chair and used his apron on his forehead

with industry, pausing at intervals with his hands on his knee to glower

at the floor. The señora was going to Peru!

 

De Soto took command a few days later, and the force marched to the

Cathedral, where solemn High Mass was celebrated and the sacrament

partaken of by every soldier. The two brigantines for the expedition

rode at anchor off the town; before midday they were standing out to

sea.

 

 

You may learn, Reader, from history, how Pizarro, strengthened by De

Soto’s reënforcement, descended upon the Peruvian city of Tumbez, and

how he found it in ruins, the result of a civil war between the two

heirs of the Inca Huayna Capac. The old monarch had left his domain to

be divided between the princes Atahualpa and Huascar, fatuously hoping

that either would be content with less than the whole. For five short

years the brother kings had reigned in peace. Atahualpa, younger of the

two, was son to a princess of Quito, a kingdom conquered by his

grandfather. He was an ambitious and warlike ruler, and to him fell

Quito as Huayna Capac’s bequest. To the elder brother, Huascar, fell

Cuzco, the ancient capital, and the southern part of the empire.

Huascar was the son of the legitimate wife of Huayna Capac, a woman of

the Inca blood; and although a wise and generous king, he was inferior

to Atahualpa in aggressive energy. Causes were not long wanting for

war. Huascar was vanquished, and when Pizarro landed at Tumbez, was

prisoner in the fortress of Xauxa. Thus much, briefly, Pizarro learned

concerning the country he was invading, and that Atahualpa with his

victorious army lay at the interior town of Caxamalca, some three

hundred miles to the southward.

 

You may read, furthermore, how the Spaniard, tarrying not long at ruined

Tumbez, marched down along the coast, peaceably for the most part, by

rigid restraint of his men, and was hospitably welcomed by the wondering

natives. Three weeks he marched, proclaiming the temporal sovereignty

of the King of Spain, the spiritual sovereignty of the Pope of Rome,

unfolding his banners, and formally recording as acknowledgment of

vassalage the acquiescence of the Peruvians to manifestoes of whose

sense they had no inkling. Fine hardihood! With a handful of men—fewer

than two hundred and fifty—Pizarro was invading an empire of whose

civilization and warlike character there was ample evidence. He was

calmly laying claim to the realm of a prince whose power he could not

guess!

 

Toward the end of May he halted in the fertile vale of Tangarala, near

the sea, and announced his purpose to build a town. And build a town he

did! He pressed the natives into service, and they quarried the stone

and hewed the timber for buildings as solid as his own intrepidity. He

named the place San Miguel.

 

Four months were consumed in establishing this base. On the

twenty-fourth of September the Army of the Conquest took up its march to

meet the legions of the Inca. The command, reduced by the number left

at San Miguel, mustered seventy horse, one hundred infantry, and two

small pieces of artillery.

 

 

 

 

*CHAPTER III*

 

_*Nipping a Conspiracy*_

 

 

The column found convenient halting places in the caravansaries, or

_tambos_, established for the troops of the Inca. These were of great

extent, with barracks, magazines, and extensive fortifications. They

afforded more than ample security for Pizarro’s force, and he availed

himself of their shelter and stores of food without scruple.

 

Five days out from San Miguel there occurred an incident but for which

this story had not been written,—an incident, not only of momentous

import to the fortunes of Cristoval in its sequence, but one which

threatened as well to end Pizarro’s dream of conquest.

 

The command had halted at a _tambo_, finding it, as usual, ungarrisoned.

Details were quickly made for guard and other duties, and Cristoval was

assigned to command a patrol to reconnoitre the neighboring village. An

hour after sunset the detachment returned, and Cristoval went to his

quarters to disarm. De Soto entered a moment later, and together they

repaired to Pedro’s.

 

The portly cook had already established himself as no mean adjunct of

the expeditionary force, and at every halt set up his _cantina_, opened

his wineskins, and served whatever broils, fries, or stews his

unscrupulous energy as a forager made possible. He was a good cook, his

kettles and spits always held something more savory than the kitchens of

the companies afforded, and as a consequence he was well patronized by

the soldiers, of whatever rank. On the march, with Pedrillo leading his

two pack mules, himself astride of an ambling gray, his peg-leg in a

stirrup specially contrived, his saddle festooned with vegetables and

other predatory trophies, he brought up the rear or jogged along beside

the column, bantering the soldiers, telling droll stories, or singing

ballads of doubtful propriety. When camp was made, headquarters were

not established more promptly than Pedro’s cook shop, and from sunset

until closed by the rounds it was full of men, eating, gambling, or

drinking _chicha_, the native beverage distilled from maize.

 

Places were made for the two cavaliers at one of the tables, and soon

Pedro limped across the room, wiping his hands on an apron once white.

"Well, Señor Cristoval," said he, lounging against the table, "what

news?"

 

"News? I’m hungry."

 

"No news at all!" retorted Pedro. "Who ever knew thee otherwise? I

have better. A few more turns, and I’ll have a haunch of llama done to

a brown; and it will taste none the worse for the fact that it is a

misdemeanor for anyone but an Inca—a noble, that is—to eat of it."

 

"Oh, Pedro, thou prince of foragers!" exclaimed Cristoval. "How camest

thou by it?"

 

"Why," said Pedro, "I made an excursion this morning with my boy."

 

"Unhappy Peru! Well?"

 

"Well, we met a herder on the road, a few miles back, with a beautiful

drove. We dismounted, my boy and I, and I paraded my wooden leg to the

marvel of the Indio; took a pack of cards from my saddle-bag and wrought

divers tricks of magic—vanishing cards and the like—thou knowest;

swallowed a horseshoe nail and took it out of mine ear; swallowed it

again and took it out of his ear. He was spellbound with wonder—turned

to stone, as if he had looked upon the ægis of Minerva,—and at this

juncture my boy threw his jacket over the head of one of the calves, or

lambs, or colts, or pups, or whatever Heaven may be pleased to call the

offspring of these heathen quadrupeds, and vanished into the bush. He

might have removed the herd entire! I patted the Indio on the back,

embraced him as a brother—found he had no pockets!—and sent him on his

way. When last we saw him his jaws were still agape!"

 

As Pedro finished, his face grew red, his eyes closed in a convulsion

which gradually extended over his broad body, and from the depths came a

succession of wheezes that shook his frame. He made no other sound.

Apoplexy seemed imminent, and Cristoval exclaimed:—

 

"Gods, man! Be sparing of thy laughter, if that is the form it taketh.

Thou ’rt too plethoric to do it safely, Pedro!"

 

Pedro’s symptoms subsided, and he stumped away to send Pedrillo with the

roast.

 

A few minutes later an orderly entered, seeking De Soto. The latter

rose, and, saying that he would return presently, followed the

messenger, leaving Cristoval dawdling over his supper. There were few

besides himself in the room—a spacious apartment with walls of unadorned

stone, a flagged floor, and great doors opening upon the court. In the

rear Pedro had his fire on the pavement, the smoke escaping through a

hole in the roof, which, like all thus far seen, was of thatch. Rough

tables and benches had been thrown together by the soldiers, always

willing to do Pedro a service, and in the corner sat two troopers and

three or four of the infantry. They had been conversing over their

_chicha_, with heads together, and evidently occupied with a subject of

interest. After De Soto went Cristoval noted casually that they were

referring to him and glancing in his direction. Finally Moreno, one of

the troopers, caught his eye, and beckoned him to join them. He

sauntered over.

 

"Sit, _compañero_, and have a cup with us," said the trooper, pouring

for him. "We would have thine opinion."

 

"My opinion!" said Cristoval, in slight surprise. "In what connection?"

 

"Regarding this," replied Moreno. "Thou hast soldiered enough to think

with a cool head—to estimate chances for and against in a campaign.

Now, what are thy views here? Thou knowest our strength,—some

three-score horse, well equipped; a hundred foot, miserably equipped;

two pieces of artillery, three arquebuses, a handful of arbalests. What

force hath this Señor Inca whom we seek? God knoweth! We have heard,

ten thousand warriors; again, fifty thousand; again, one hundred

thousand. _Por cierto_, he may have at the beck of his finger every man

and boy in his kingdom, not to say the women! Now, what will the Inca

do with the Army of the Conquest some morning after breakfast? He will

wipe it out! He will eat it up! We shall dance one merry fandango to

his piping, and—pouf!