The Pearl of the Andes: A Tale of Love and Adventure
CHAPTER XXXIV.
THE ULTIMATUM.
Antinahuel had rejoined the mosotones to whom he had confided Doña Rosario two days previously. The two troops now formed but one. The Toqui had at first entertained the intention of crossing the first plateau of the Andes. But the battle they had lost had produced terrible consequences; their principal tolderías had been burned by the Spaniards, their towns sacked, and the inhabitants either killed or carried away. Such as had been able to fly had at first wandered about the woods without an object; but as soon as they learned that the Toqui had succeeded in escaping, they re-assembled, and sent envoys to him to demand assistance.
Antinahuel rejoiced at the movement of reaction which was going on among his countrymen. He changed his itinerary, and had, at the head of a hundred men only, returned back in the direction of the Bio Bio; whilst by his order his other warriors dispersed throughout the Aucas territory for the purpose of rousing the people to arms. The Toqui had no intention now of extending the Araucanian dominions; his only desire now was to obtain, arms in hand, a peace which might not be too disadvantageous for his country.
For a reason only known to Antinahuel, Don Tadeo and Rosario were completely ignorant that they were so near to each other.
Antinahuel had pitched his camp at the summit of the mountain, where some days before he had been with the whole Indian army, in the strong position which commanded the ford of the Bio Bio.
It was about two o'clock in the afternoon. With the exception of a few Araucanian sentinels, leaning motionless upon their long lances, the camp appeared a desert; silence reigned everywhere. Suddenly a trumpet call was sounded from the opposite side of the river. The Ulmen charged with the care of the advanced posts ordered a reply to be sounded, and went out to inquire the cause. Three horsemen, clothed in rich uniforms, stood upon the bank; close to them was a trumpeter, waving a flag of truce. The Ulmen hoisted a similar flag, and advanced into the water to meet the horsemen.
"What do the chiefs of the white faces want?" the Ulmen asked, haughtily.
One of the horsemen immediately replied--
"Go and tell the Toqui that a general officer has an important communication to make to him."
The wild eye of the Indian flashed at this insult; but he said, disdainfully--
"I will go and inquire whether our great Toqui is disposed to receive you; but I much doubt whether he will condescend to listen to Cheapolo-Huincas."
"Fool!" the other replied angrily; "make haste."
"Be patient, Don Gregorio, in Heaven's name!" one of the two officers exclaimed.
At the expiration of a few minutes a sign was made from the bank that the Chilians might advance. Antinahuel, seated under the shade of a magnificent espino, awaited the officers. They stopped before him, and remained motionless.
"What is your will?" he asked, in a stern voice.
"Listen to my words, and mark them carefully," Don Gregorio replied.
"Speak, and be brief," said Antinahuel.
Don Gregorio shrugged his shoulders disdainfully,
"Don Tadeo de León is in your hands," he said.
"Yes; the man is my prisoner."
"Very well. If tomorrow, by the third hour of the day, he is not given up to us safe and sound, the hostages we have taken, and more than eighty others, will be shot within sight of the two camps."
"You will do as you please, but this man shall die!" the chief replied, coldly.
"Oh! that is the case, is it? Very well! I, Don Gregorio Peralta, swear to you, on my part, that I will strictly keep the promise I have made you."
And turning his horse sharply round he departed.
And yet there was more bravado than anything else in the threat made by Antinahuel. If pride had not prevented him, he would have renewed the parley. He returned to his camp buried in thought, and went straight to his toldo. The Linda, who was seated in a corner upon sheepskins, was as much absorbed in thought as the chief; Doña Rosario had fallen asleep. At the sight of the young girl the chief experienced a peculiar emotion, the blood flowed back forcibly to his heart, and springing towards her, he imprinted a burning kiss upon her half-open lips, Doña Rosario, suddenly awakened, bounded to the extremity of the toldo, uttering a cry of terror.
"What is the meaning of all this?" the chief exclaimed angrily; "Whence comes this terror?"
And he took several steps towards her.
"Advance no further! advance no further! in Heavens name!" she shrieked.
"What is the use of all this folly? You are mine."
"Never!" she said, in an agony of grief.
"Nonsense!" he said; "I am not a paleface, the tears of women have no effect upon me."
And he advanced again towards her. The Linda, still apparently buried in her reflections, seemed not to be aware of what was going on.
"Señora, señora!" the maiden cried; "in the name of all that is sacred defend me, I implore you!"
The Linda raised her head, looked at her coldly, and, with a dry nervous laugh, said--
"Have I not told you what you had to expect?"
Then she thrust her roughly from her.
"Oh!" cried Doña Rosario, in a piercing voice, "maldición on you, heartless woman!"
Again the chief approached, and again his victim darted to the other side of the apartment, but unfortunately as she passed he caught her dress in his iron grasp. And now the noble energy that never deserts virtue in distress returned to her. She drew herself up proudly, and fixed her eyes steadfastly on her pursuer. "Stand back!" she cried, brandishing her dagger. "Stand back! or I will kill myself!"
In spite of himself the demon stood motionless. He was convinced that it was not a vain threat the girl uttered. At that moment the hideous, scarred, grinning face of the Linda was bent towards his ear.
"Appear to yield," she whispered; "I will tame her, leave her to me!"
Antinahuel looked at her with a suspicious eye. The Linda smiled.
"Do you promise me?" he said, in a hoarse voice.
"On my soul I do," she replied.
In the meantime Doña Rosario--her arm elevated and her body bent forward--awaited the denouement of this frightful scene. With a facility which the Indians alone possess, Antinahuel composed his countenance so as entirely to change its expression.
"My sister will pardon me," he said, in a soft voice; "I was mad, reason is restored to my mind."
After again bowing to the young lady, who did not know to what to attribute this sudden change, he left the toldo.
Upon reflection, Antinahuel resolved to strike his camp and depart.
The Linda and Doña Rosario were sent in advance, under the guard of some mosotones. The young girl, weakened by the terrible emotions she had undergone, could scarcely sit her horse; a burning fever had seized her. "I am thirsty--so thirsty!" she murmured.
At a sign from the Linda one of the mosotones approached her, and unfastened a gourd.
"Let my sister drink," he said.
The maiden seized the gourd eagerly, applied it to her lips, and drank a large draught.
"Good!" said the Linda to herself.
"Thank you," Doña Rosario murmured, restoring the gourd almost empty. But ere long her eyes gradually grew heavy, and she sank back, murmuring in a faint voice--
"Good Heaven! what can be the matter with me? I am dying."
One of the mosotones caught her in his arms, and placed her before him on his saddle. All at once she for a moment recovered herself as if by an electric shock, opened her eyes, and cried with a piercing voice, "Help, help!" and relapsed into insensibility.
On hearing this agonised cry, the Linda, in spite of herself, felt her heart fail her, but quickly recovering, she said, with a bitter smile--
"Am I growing foolish?"
She made a sign to the mosotone who carried Doña Rosario to draw nearer, and examined her attentively.
"She is asleep," she muttered, with an expression of satisfied hatred; "when she awakes I shall be avenged."
At this moment Antinahuels position was very critical. Too weak to attempt anything serious against the Chilians, whom he wished to induce to make a peace advantageous for his country, he endeavoured to gain time by moving about on the frontier, so that his enemies, not knowing where to find him, could not force conditions upon him which he ought not to accept. Although the Aucas responded to the appeal of his emissaries, and rose eagerly to come and join his ranks, it was necessary to give the tribes, most of them remote, time to concentrate upon the point he had named.
On their side the Spaniards, whose internal tranquillity was for the future secured by the death of General Bustamente, had very little desire to carry on a war which had no longer any interest for them. They stood in need of peace to repair the evils created by the civil war, they therefore confined themselves to arming their frontiers, and endeavoured by every means to bring about serious conferences with the principal Araucan chiefs. Don Gregorio Peralta had been blamed for the threat he had so hastily made to Antinahuel, and he himself acknowledged the folly of his conduct when he heard of the Toquis departure with his prisoner. Another system had in consequence been adopted. Only ten of the principal chiefs were detained as hostages. The others, well instructed and loaded with presents, were set at liberty. Everything rendered it probable that these chiefs on their return to their respective tribes would employ their influence to conclude a peace, and unmask before the council the proceedings of Antinahuel, proceedings which had brought the nation to the verge of ruin.
The Araucanos are passionate in their love of liberty; for them every consideration gives way to that of being free. Hence it was easy to foresee that the Aucas, in spite of their veneration for their Toqui, would not hesitate to depose him when their chiefs on the one part and the friendly captains on the other, made it clear to them that that liberty was compromised, and that they exposed themselves to being deprived of it forever, and falling under the Spanish yoke if they continued their aggressive policy.