Читать книгу The Crimson Conquest - Charles B. Hudson - Страница 8

Table of Contents

The next day the whole city crowded to look upon the booty from Peru, on display at the office of the governor, and many an adventurer, after feasting his eyes on the gleaming treasure, went straight to the door beneath the banner of the "Army of the Conquest." Thereafter the recruiting went on rapidly, and the Bolio establishment soon wore the appearance of a barrack. When sufficiently advertised the office was transferred from the square, and now the banner floated over the Bolio gate.

The arrival of Hernando de Soto with a small company lent new impetus. The participation of a leader of his reputation gave confidence to many who had hesitated to enlist in an enterprise which had already met serious reverses and was led by one commonly regarded as visionary. Neither Pizarro nor his partner, Diego de Almagro, had been known as other than needy soldiers of fortune, and not even the countenance given by the Crown of Spain had raised them above the derisive scepticism of Panama. It had long been incredulous regarding a rich and civilized empire to the southward, and had been niggardly in its support. The two preceding expeditions had met disaster complete; but the leaders persisted with unconquered resolution, and the matter began to assume moment. There were scoffers still, but many who had held aloof hastened to offer service. Most of the levies were drawn by mere hope of plunder, or driven by sheer necessity. Some were impelled by ambition for the sort of glory won by the conquerors of Mexico. A few were attracted by the audacity and perseverance of the commander, but these qualities were not uncommon enough to give Pizarro preëminence among men of a race then unsurpassed in its soldiery, and of all considerations they weighed the least.

Whatever the motives that led recruits to Pizarro's banner, they comprised all sorts and conditions of men, from the noble and hidalgo to the fugitive from the law—younger sons of ancient families bearing historic names; veterans of European wars, free-lances from every country on the northern shores of the Mediterranean. It was a band as mixed as the swarms of pirates infesting the Indies in later years, and hardly less ferocious in hunger for blood and plunder.

The days flew quickly, and few remained before the command should embark. Considering the character of the men, the preparations had gone on smoothly. But there had been, it must be said, certain flurries, even small tempests, from another source. These episodes were due to the temperament and powers of Señora Bolio. This worthy lady proved to be a slumbering volcano—yet not always slumbering—with potentialities that justified the impressive words of Pedro. She erupted unexpectedly, for causes unforeseen, and spread sudden confusion throughout the establishment. There would be heard from time to time in the patio a quick disturbance, a scurrying of soldiery, and then a tirade in the deep tones of the señora, matchless for rapid invective. Perhaps a soldier, a newcomer to Panama, would venture to oppose her eloquence with his own, like in kind, but feeble in comparison. It was only to court defeat and humiliation.

To Cristoval, at first amusing, it soon grew monotonous, and as his time became precious, an annoyance and irritation. He appealed, to Pedro, in whom there might lie hope.

"In the name of the fiend, Pedro," said he, "canst suppress that woman? If so, do it—in a gentle way if possible; for she is a woman. Those varlets below deserve their flaying, but it groweth wearisome."

Pedro shook his head. "I doubt if she could be estopped by anything short of strangulation. However, I'll cast about." But he muttered as he moved away: "Now the saints lend me their protection! This is what cometh of being a cook."

Thereafter, when the lady broke out, Pedro, with marvellous patience, would go to the patio, approach her with all deference, and oppose her torrent with an equal flood of apologies, assurances, entreaties, compliments, and cajoleries, with splendid versatility. And however great her rage, the moment would come when Madame would stop to listen—and be undone. The cook would thereupon lead her ceremoniously to her door, bow her across the threshold, and return to his kitchen leaving the lady appeased. But having regained his privacy, Pedro would swear roundly.

These repeated softenings were not without their effect upon the señora. This effect was cumulative. As the days went by it grew apparent that in her hostility toward mankind she made the suave cantinero an exception. This he noticed at first with natural complacency. Later, when her attitude became one of tolerant friendliness, he blessed his stars, vowing privately that his circumspection should be without a flaw. Still later, as a consequence, the señora's amiability grew more pronounced, expressed by small favors, and even by occasional invitations to sup. The good Pedro's serenity increased, and its influence seemed to spread over the establishment. Alas for his tranquillity, for its life was short! The señora had speaking eyes, and as they looked with growing favor upon the gracious cook, they softened in a measure that could never have escaped one less unsuspecting than he.

Pedro went his placid way, unconscious of the growing tenderness, until a glance awoke him to his peril. There was no doubt, no need of words to interpret. It was only a glance in passing, but Pedro looked after the lady in consternation. As she passed he crossed himself, stood a moment, then deserted his task and stumped with precipitation to the first refuge—to Cristoval. The cavalier looked up as the cook entered. Pedro sank into a chair.

"Ho! Pedro, what is to do?" demanded the cavalier, surveying his agitation with concern. "What hath happened?"

Pedro stared at him in silence, with parted lips, and in abstraction. He seemed not to have heard the question, nor to see his questioner, in the absorption of contemplating the tacit revelation of a moment before, with the possible complexities to follow. Señora Bolio's avowal was unspoken, but how long would the silence be preserved? And with the ardor of that impetuous nature turned to tender passion, with her boundless powers of utterance directed against him as its object!—ah, Dios! what would become of him?

Again Cristoval demanded, more than half alarmed: "What is it, Pedro? Name of a saint! Why dost stare in that ghastly way? Come! Speak, man! Hast lost thy tongue?"

Pedro, still speechless, gathered up his apron and wiped his forehead; placed a fist upon either knee, and glowered at the floor. Cristoval leaned back in astonishment. Never before had Pedro's language failed. Once more the cook passed his apron across his brow, glanced again at Cristoval, arose abruptly, and went as far as the door. Here he paused, hesitated, then turning back, whispered hoarsely, "Señor Cristoval, by the gods of heathens, I've—I've overdone it!"

"Overdone it! Overdone what, thou mysterious cook?" But Pedro had gone.

He regained his kitchen by stealth, moving by short dashes, with many a halt to reconnoitre. His boy-helper, Pedrillo, was there, and approaching, Pedro clutched him by the arm. "Pedrillo," he said solemnly: "Pedrillo, have I been good to thee?"

Pedrillo looked up with wide-open eyes. "Why—bodkins!—of a surety, Master! Who saith not?"

"No one hath said. But hear me, Pedrillo!—as thou hopest some day to be a cook, stay by me! Stay by me! Dost understand? Until we are safe aboard ship, leave me not for a minute!—not a minute!"

"Cielo!" exclaimed the astonished boy. "What is wrong, señor? Do—do you have fits?"

"It will be worse than fits, Pedrillo," replied Pedro, seriously, "if thou failest me an instant. Promise!"

Pedrillo promised, swore to it, and for the rest of the day watched his patron in mystification. Thereafter the cook slept with his heavy furniture piled against the door.

Pedrillo kept his word as far as possible; but vigilance cannot be eternal, and sometimes Pedro was alone. On one of these occasions the worst befell. The señora entered. That she came with fell purpose Pedro divined at a glance. He saw flashes of soft lightning in her eyes, more dreaded now than the blaze of her ire. Instinctively he placed himself with the table between.

The lady looked quickly about, and approaching, said in a tone he had not heard her use before, "Pedro, I have a word for thee."

"Oh, the fiend, señora!" he interrupted, paling slightly and looking for Pedrillo. "Say it to some one else—now do! There's a good woman! I—stew me!—I am a busy man. I have a roast on the point of burning, I swear it! Come, now, I—"

"It is for thee, Pedro," she said with resolution, but Pedro noted with relief that she spoke slowly. He had expected a storm of tender protestations without prelude, as vehement as her upbraidings of the men. "It is for thee," she said again, and Pedro quailed.

"Nay, Señora Bolio," he pleaded. "Be discreet, I pray thee! Talk of it first to—to Father Gregorio, now. Thou'rt young, and—" The señora blushed, and Pedro cursed the slip. Said she:

"I will talk to Father Gregorio later, Pedro; but first to thee."

Pedro groaned, and swore under his breath. "Hold, señora!" he cried. "Thou 'rt making a mistake. Say it not to me—to some other man. To Peralta—to De Soto! They are good men both; but I—"

"And so art thou!" she said hastily, "though once I did think thee a knave, like the rest."

"Ah! So I am! So I am!" cried Pedro with impetuosity. "That and worse, my word for it! I am a very Turk—a basilisk! Señora, thou knowest not the depth of mine iniquities—and moreover, I have but one leg. Consider that! Peralta hath two good ones. I am incomplete—a cripple—a—"

"Oh, Pedro, thou 'rt the only man I ever knew!" interrupted the lady, with fervor; then, rapidly: "Thou 'rt a good man, Pedro, and hast a kindly heart. Not once beneath this roof hast thou used an unbecoming word to me. Whilst these scapins of soldiers have tried my patience with their insolence, thou hast spoken only with gentleness—and 'tis rare enough to me—rare enough, God knoweth!" She brushed away a coming tear. "But I have come to tell thee, Pedro—"

"Do not say it! Do not say it!" shouted Pedro in desperation. "I tell thee, señora—"

"But I will say it," she said with a sudden return of firmness. "And why not? I've come to tell thee—I am going to Peru. Why should I not say it?"

Pedro staggered. "Is that all?" he exploded. "Is that all? Naught else?"

"Numskull!" retorted the lady. "Is it not enough? What more wouldst have me say?"

"Nothing more, by the Sacrament! 'Tis enough! Why didst not say it in the beginning?" and Pedro's good knee grew suddenly weak, as if he had been snatched from death. The señora regarded him kindly for a moment, and went on:

"I am going to Peru—not now, for De Soto hath denied me passage—but later. I'll find thee, good Pedro. We shall meet again." Pedro's jaw set, but he said nothing.

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.