CHAPTER III.
WHAT DE SOTO HAD TO TELL
But while the level beams of the sinking sun were still glancing redly across the low hills that bordered the wilderness to seaward runners came in on the eighth day bringing the welcome news that the sons of Viracocha were returning, and the sun had not long set before the paved causeway that led up to the principal gate of the town was ringing with the music of clanging hoofs, most welcome to the Captain’s ears.
That night, in the principal chamber of the Curaca’s house, by the light of burning cotton wicks floating on oil contained in curiously worked lamps of silver, another council of war was held, and de Soto, most highly bred and gentlest warrior of them all, made the report of his journey.
“Excellency and Caballeros,” he said in the courtly tone which on occasion he could yet raise loud and high above the battle-tumult, “I must first offer you my regrets for the anxiety which, by the needs of my service, I may have caused you, but, this done, I may console myself and you with the information and news that I have brought back. Since there are no listeners here who can take anything away to do us harm, I may speak plainly and as a man among friends and comrades.”
There was a little pause after this, and the assembled cavaliers bowed their heads in sanction and approval, and the Captain, nodding to him with one of his rare, grave smiles, said--
“That is well begun, Don Hernando, and bids fair for what may be to come. Now speak freely, and let your lips show us without fear or restraint all that your eyes have seen and your ears have heard, be it good or evil. There is no need to make the dangers less or the promises of good fortune fairer than in good truth they are, for, as you know, there are none here who can hope more or fear less than good Christian gentlemen who take their lives and their honour hanging to their sword-belts may hope or fear for.”
Again the knightly heads nodded, and Carvahal, bringing his fat fist as gently as might be down on the cedar table round which they sat, said with one of his wholesome, chuckling laughs--
“The Captain-General speaks our minds as ever. Go on, de Soto; thou hast good listeners. There is none here who would turn his back on El-Dorado though to go forward meant instant death, so tell thy story in words as plain as may be. If thou hast been to the mouth of Hell, say so, and we will go and warm ourselves at the blaze, and if thou hast seen the gates of Paradise, or whatever their like may be in El-Dorado, say so too, and we will go none the less speedily to take our share of such of its glories as may be carried away.”
“I have to tell neither of the one nor of the other,” answered de Soto after he had joined in the laugh that followed the old freelance’s sally, “and yet I have that to tell which is worth the telling and the hearing too.
“First, then, we rode up the valley here till the causeway, which is well paved for leagues beyond the town, became a narrow track, winding up out of the valley round hillspurs and in and out of deep, dark gorges, slanting upwards so steeply that we were fain to dismount and lead our chargers by the bridle, taking as much heed to the beasts’ footsteps as we did to our own, and often leading them by the very bit itself round jutting crags where the road went up and down in steps never meant for more than human feet.
“The road sloped so suddenly, and the rock-walls fell away so sheer on the one hand and rose so sharply on the other, that ever and anon our poor frightened beasts stopped and trembled, looking askance down into the abysses, as though knowing that one false step would send them to destruction; and for two days after the first we rode and walked thus, ever ending higher than we had begun, and ever in front of us as each ridge was scaled the mountains beyond rose higher and higher till they seemed like the buttresses of a great wall that rose from earth to Heaven. Yet the valleys were ever green and lovely; and so we travelled on with good cheer till the sunset of the third day brought us to Caxas, which is a sightly town albeit that it is built with nothing better than baked clay.
“The garrison turned out in goodly number to meet us in full and warlike array and, as we thought, with hostile intent; but when we had explained so much of our purpose as we thought fit by the mouth of Filipillo they received us well and lodged us better, and from Caxas the next morning we went on to a most goodly town called Huamacucho, in good sooth as well and solidly built a town as Christian eyes need wish to look upon in such a heathen land as this; for the forts and houses, to say nothing of the temple and the dwelling-place of the Inca noble who rules it, are built, not of clay, but of stone all masoned with marvellous skill, for stone fits on stone and course on course with a precision so perfect that no mortar is needed to bind them together.
“Here we found a garrison stronger by far than at Caxas, and warriors well enough armed after the simple fashion of the land, fit to fight, maybe, with the street lads of Seville and Cordova, though but of poor account as I take it against cavaliers or men-at-arms in mail and plate. Yet their trappings were fine and costly enough, and there were many of them that would be worth a good hundred pesos whether taken alive or found dead on a field of battle.”
Here Carvahal’s eyes began to glitter, nor were they the only ones alight in the company as he growled out--
“Ah! there I see a glimpse of Paradise, or at least of El-Dorado. Go on, de Soto, thou hast good listeners now, I warrant thee.”
But Don Francisco shook his head and said in his quiet, masterful voice--
“Nay, nay, Carvahal, it is early days to talk in that fashion yet. Remember that presently our errand is one of peace. We must not pluck the fruit while it would kill the tree. El-Dorado is not here; we shall find it beyond the mountains where its master is. Know you not the story that the Scripture tells of the strong man armed? We are not in his house yet. Go on with thy story, de Soto.”
A low approving murmur ran round the table and de Soto began again--
“My thoughts were not unlike yours, Don Francisco, even as Carvahal’s would have been had he heard the news that was told me in Huamacucho. The noble who commands the town is no less a personage than one Titu Atauchi, half-brother of the great Inca himself, and from him I learnt that Atahuallpa is presently encamped in the valley of Cajamarca, a great city lying in a broad and verdant plain on the other side of a vast range of mountains compared with which all that we have so far seen are but little more than ant-hills, yet so fast does news fly, by some strange means or other, in this wondrous land, that already he has been informed of our coming, and has sent orders back to the Governor of Huamacucho to receive us with all friendliness and invite you, Excellency, to meet him and confer with him on the subject of your embassy in Cajamarca itself.”
Here de Soto paused for a while, and Don Francisco, slowly nodding his head towards him, said--
“That all sounds well enough so far, de Soto, but heard you any tidings of the war that is being waged between the two Incas, and of what forces Atahuallpa has with him?”
“It was even that that I was coming to, Excellency,” replied de Soto. “All that we have heard so far is true. The armies of Cuzco have been defeated.”
“Cuzco! Where and what is that?” asked Carvahal, again interrupting.
“Cuzco,” said de Soto, “is by all accounts the very city after thine own heart, Carvahal. These heathens call it the Navel of the World, but for thee it may be enough to know that it is the very heart of El-Dorado, the city whose streets are paved with silver and whose palaces and temples are walled and roofed with gold. Art thou content?”
“Nay, not till I get there,” said Carvahal. “Not until I turn my sword into a reaping-hook to garner the harvest that a good Christian should be able to gather there.”
“After the labour the reward, Carvahal. Forget not that!” said Don Francisco, somewhat sharply, as though little pleased by the interruption. “Go on, de Soto, let us know what the labours are first.”
“Well, then, Caballeros, as I was saying,” he continued, “if the armies of Cuzco have been defeated by the armies of Quito. Huascar himself is held in close durance in a strong place called Tumibamba, about half-way between the two capitals, and Atahuallpa is camped in or about Cajamarca with an army--a victorious army, mind ye, of some eighty thousand men.”
“And we are some six score good Christian gentlemen and others!” interrupted Don Francisco with one of his quiet smiles. “Well, the odds are great, but God and Our Lady will defend the right. What more, de Soto?”
“But little more, Excellency,” he said, after he had joined in the laugh that went round the table. “From all I hear these heathens have every disposition to receive us kindly and trustfully. For instance, at Caxas and Huamacucho we drank chicha out of goblets of gold and silver, and ate delicious fruits from dishes of the same, and every man of us might have come back with a golden chain about his neck had I but consented to the taking of them.”
“Ah, de Soto! why was not I sent in thy stead?” growled Carvahal. “Thou art a man of wasted opportunities.”
“Nay,” said Pedro de Candia, “rather say a man of more wisdom than thou, Carvahal. Thou wouldst pluck the feathers from the wings of the bird whose flight would guide thee to El-Dorado just because they were tipped with gold. But de Soto would let it fly and follow it.”
“Ay, that I would!” said he. “All that we have seen is but the fringe of the cloth-of-gold, and if we snatched at it we might never see more of it. But,” he went on more seriously, “I should fail in my duty if I did not warn you, Señor Capitan, that all this kindness may be no better than a blind for our eyes and a snare for our footsteps, nor yet if I did not tell you that from what I have seen of it our road to Cajamarca is of such difficulty and danger that a score of men well placed and resolute might dispute it against a thousand. There are turns where an ambush would mean ruin, where the road might be blocked before and behind and no choice left save surrender or a leap to Heaven over a precipice. Once our feet are treading those mountain paths there is but one road, and that is forward. To come back save as conquerors were death as well as dishonour.”
There was a little pause after this, for the words were grave and serious ears were listening to them. Then Don Francisco, after a quick glance at the sober faces round the table, said quietly, but with a ring in his voice that found an instant echo in every heart.
“The faint-hearts have gone back to San Miguel. Here there are only fearless gentlemen of Spain, and for them the only road _is_ forward. Is not that so, Caballeros?”
“Ay, that is so! Go forward, Chosen of the Lord, go on and do His work! Shall the heathen prevail against you while ye are clad in the armour of righteousness and girded with the sword of faith? Remember Israel in Caanan and Joshua before Ai! If ye have faith ye may remove mountains--how much easier then shall ye cross them! There is not only shame and death behind you should ye turn back, there is damnation too, even that which befalls him who puts his hand to the plough and looks back. Are ye not the chosen messengers of God, soldiers of the Cross, and champions of our holy Church, and if gold and gems shall be the lawful reward of your labours here, shall not the eternal bliss and glory of Heaven be your reward hereafter?
“It is not only El-Dorado that lies beyond the mountains. The harvest-fields of God and our holy Church are there, and for every heathen soul that is washed clean in the waters of baptism, each one who wields the sword in a good cause shall have reward in Heaven more precious than rubies--ay, more than if all the gold of El-Dorado were his.
“What matters it though the heathen be many in number and their hearts full of guile? How shall numbers prevail against the strength that God shall give you to do His work. How shall the wiles of heathenesse overcome the wisdom of holiness? In your weakness shall be your strength, and in your simple valour your highest wisdom. Soldiers of God and the Church, go on, and God’s blessing go before you!”
It was Vincente de Valverde who spoke; not now the thin, gaunt monk who had dragged his shivering limbs and dripping garments out of the river a few days before amidst the laughter of the whole troop, nor yet the cold-blooded persecutor who had stood not long before in the plaza at Santo Domingo in Hispaniola and with unmoved eyes watched half a score of lapsed heretics writhing and screaming amidst the torture of the flames. For the moment he had risen above the man and the persecutor to be the single-hearted servant of his God and his Church, and his words rang out clear and true as words ever do ring from a heart that has a single purpose, and that a good one. The echo that they found in every heart was instant, and as the last words pealed from his lips every cavalier sprang to his feet, every sword leapt from its scabbard, and every lip was pressed with one consent to the cross-hilt.
“Even so--God speed our holy work, and may His holy Mother bless it with her prayers!” said the deep voice of Don Francisco, and then every other voice rang out in a shout of--
“Cajamarca--on to Cajamarca! There lies the road to glory and salvation!”
“And El-Dorado!” growled Carvahal, as the shout was dying away. “It were as well not to forget that in the meantime, Caballeros.”