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Illustrator: A.W. Cooper

Manco, the Peruvian Chief, An Englishman's Adventures in the Country of the Incas, by W.H.G. Kingston.

Here is another Kingston novel about South America. As usual he makes the point that the Spaniards were very cruel, especially in the way they oppressed the Indian tribes.

The family in the story are English, and they get pulled into helping an Inca chieftain, Manco, in his flight from the Spaniards. This seems to mirror several other books by Kingston. There is always a long trek overland, the point of which usually eludes me, but which gives rise to all sorts of difficult situations, with Spaniards, with serpents, with dangerous bridges, with rafts on rivers and so forth. Dated 1853 this must be one of Kingston's earliest books, and certainly one of the earliest with this theme: the style is impeccable. This edition is probably some years later, since there is an inscription in the version I used dated 1900, and it might have been tidied up if it needed it.

It makes a good audiobook, though not a very long one, at 11 hours 30 minutes.

Enjoy reading the book or listening to it.

MANCO, THE PERUVIAN CHIEF, AN ENGLISHMAN'S ADVENTURES IN THE COUNTRY OF THE INCAS, BY W.H.G. KINGSTON.

MY FAMILY AND HOME--WE CONCEAL A FUGITIVE INDIAN.

It was evening. The sun had just set beneath the waters of the Pacific, which could be distinguished in the far distance; and the whole western sky, undimmed by a cloud, was burning with a radiant glow of splendour such as to the eyes of the untutored Peruvians might well appear an emanation from the Deity they worshipped.

I was looking out, with others of my family, from the windows of the country house we inhabited, on the glorious spectacle. We were residing in Peru, that romantic region with which the name of the conqueror Pizarro must be for ever associated--the kingdom of the once powerful and enlightened Incas, on the western shore of South America. At the time of which I speak, however, its greatness, its prosperity and happiness, had passed away; it was a mere province of Old Spain, and governed by a viceroy sent from that country, while the race of its ancient sovereigns, though still existing, was humbled and disregarded, and almost unknown.

My parents were English, and England was my native land. My father, Mr Henry Rexton, had been a soldier in his youth; but when he married my mother, who was the daughter of an eminent British merchant, he quitted the army; and my grandfather induced him, by advantageous offers, to take a share in his house of business. The firm traded with Peru; and certain mercantile transactions of importance requiring for a time the superintendence of a partner, my father and mother went out there, taking with them me and a younger sister, their only children then born. Year after year unexpected circumstances occurred which compelled them, much against their wish, to remain in the country; and well do I remember how frequently in our family circle the subject of conversation was the happiness we expected to enjoy on returning home. On first going to Peru, we resided in Lima, the modern capital; but at length the heat of the climate affecting my mother's health, in the hopes of it being restored by a cooler atmosphere, my father engaged a house in the country, at a considerable distance from the city. It was situated among the lower ranges of the lofty Cordilleras, one of those mighty ranges of mountains which stretches from one end to the other of the South American continent, the eastern portion of them being more properly known by the name of the Andes.

Our house stood on a level spot on the summit of a spur of the main chain. To the east behind it rose range above range of mountains, the more distant towering to the sky, and covered with eternal snows. On either side other spurs stretched out far towards the west, forming deep gorges below us; while along the side of the ridge on which the house was situated ran a narrow road, one of the few paths in that neighbourhood, penetrating among the mountains into the regions on the eastern side. From our windows westward, over a wide extent of broken ground among the mounds, many of which might in other countries be called mountains, would be seen the fertile plains of Peru stretching away to the ocean, distinguished on clear days by a silvery line in the horizon. The house was of one floor only, and built of brick and tiled. The rooms were large and numerous, and it was surrounded by a court-yard. It was of ancient construction, indeed it appeared to have been built originally for a fortification to command the pass through the mountains; but the outer walls had fallen into decay or been pulled down, though it still retained enough of its former character to enable it to be speedily prepared to resist any sudden attack by undisciplined forces destitute of artillery. Around it were plantations of olive and orange trees, on the slopes near it were vineyards, and on the level spaces fields of maize or Indian corn, and many trees and plants of a temperate clime. At the bottom of the ravine rushed a broad and powerful stream, fed by the snows of the neighbouring mountains; and on its banks, in a wider part, some little way to the west, was a large village inhabited chiefly by Indians, the descendants of the hapless race conquered by the Spaniards. In the neighbourhood, on the other side of the river, was a silver mine, in working which many of the inhabitants of the village were employed.

I have now given a sufficiently full description of our house and the scenery surrounding it, to enable my readers to form a tolerably correct idea of the picture I wish to present to them.

At the time when the adventures I have resolved to narrate commenced, I had just attained my fifteenth year. I looked older, for I had grown rapidly in that warm climate; and, accustomed to exercise and athletic sports, I was of a well-knit strong frame, and had a very manly appearance, though possessed of the light hair and complexion of the Saxon race, somewhat tanned, however, by constant exposure to the sun. My brothers and sisters, for I had several, all bore the same marked characteristics of our Northern ancestors, contrasting strongly with the swarthy hue on the countenances of the people among whom we lived. They used to call us the fair-haired children of the North; and from the love and respect with which they regarded us, I believe they associated us in their minds with the revered race whom their traditions told them once ruled the country with paternal sway--the family of the fallen Incas.

I shall have to tell more fully, in the course of my narrative, the beautiful legend, for so I may call it, regarding the origin of the Incas; how they appeared suddenly among the ignorant inhabitants of Peru, claiming to be the children of the Sun, and, gathering their scattered tribes together, formed them into one people, and gave them laws and institutions, and brought peace and prosperity to the land, which continued till the Spaniards arrived, and, with unexampled treachery and cruelty, overthrew their monarchy and reduced the people to abject slavery and misery. The Indians around us were nominally Roman Catholics; but though they conformed openly to the ordinances of that Church, and partly believed in the power assumed by its priests, they pertinaciously retained many of the superstitions of their ancestors, and practised their rites in secret.

Having given a brief account of my family, and their position in the country, I must begin to unwind the thread of my Tale. We were seated, as I have said, in our sitting-room, gazing on one of the most magnificent of Nature's spectacles--the setting sun. The younger children were playing about the room, while my sister Lilly and I, with our father and mother, were seated near the open window. We were talking, I well remember, about our distant home, when our conversation was interrupted by seeing a man leap over the wall of the court-yard, and rapidly approach the house.

"Who can he be? What brings him here?" exclaimed my mother, while my father rose to make inquiries on the subject.

Scarcely had she spoken, when the door was thrown open, and the person we had seen rushed into the room. He was a tall man, of well-knit, active frame, and though he looked travel-stained and weary, there was something in his appearance and manner which betokened that he was not an ordinary being. His complexion was dark, though scarcely darker than that of a Spaniard; but the contour of his features and the expression of his countenance showed that he belonged to the Indian race. His dress was simple, consisting of a pair of trowsers, and a shirt of the cotton cloth of the country, of a dark blue colour; a poncho of alpaca wool covered his shoulders, while a sash was fastened round his waist, and his feet were protected by sandals, fastened on by leather thongs. He threw himself on the ground before my father, who went to meet him, and taking his hand, he looked up imploringly in his face.

"Save me, Senor!" he exclaimed in Spanish, "you have the power if you will venture to do it. I am flying from what they call justice--the tyranny of our cruel task-masters. If I am captured, my death is certain. You are noble and generous, and I throw myself on your mercy."

The appeal thus made, with all the energy of despair, was difficult to resist. My father's feelings were enlisted on the side of the fugitive; but he looked round at my mother and us, who now stood grouped about him, and remembered the difficulties to which we might be exposed, should he yield to the promptings of his heart, from the anger of the Spanish authorities. The Indian divined his thoughts.

"You run no danger," he continued. "Far be it from me to cause you to suffer for your charity. No one saw me approach your house; neither did your servants observe me enter it. I was on my way through the mountains to the far interior, but not daring to enter any house for food and rest, I felt that my strength was forsaking me, and that I could not hope to combat with the difficulties of the road. If you cannot shelter me, noble Senor, either I must die from fatigue, or be captured by my enemies."

"Of what crime have you been guilty, that you thus seek to fly from justice?" asked my father.

"Let us shelter him, Henry," exclaimed my mother, in English; "Heaven surely will not allow us to suffer injury from doing what is right."

The Indian at once comprehended by her looks that she was pleading his cause.

"May the blessing of the God of my fathers light on you and yours!" he cried, kneeling at her feet.

My father thought as she did; but he had learned not to give way on a sudden to the impulse of his feelings, and he wished to ascertain that the Indian was not deceiving him before he promised his protection.

"Who are you?" he asked; "though your tale, alas! is too probable to be doubted."

"I am one who would not be guilty of a falsehood to save my life," answered the Indian proudly; "I am the cousin of the Cacique Tupac Amaru, the rightful heir of the last Inca of Peru. You see in me one of the children of the Sun; and though the blood of the conquerors of my country is mixed in my veins, I feel that of my fathers still burning strongly within me. I had heard of your charity and kindness to my people; and for long I have known you, hoping some day to repay you; but I see that you fear my presence might risk the safety of your family, and I will not trespass on you. Give me but some food to sustain my wearied body, and I will depart."

My father took the stranger's hand. "You shall not go," he said. "I will trust you, and at all hazards I will endeavour to conceal you till your strength is recruited. David," he continued, speaking to me, "see that the servants do not come into this part of the house till I have concealed this poor fellow; and remember, children, do none of you on any account speak of what has occurred. Now, my friend," he added, turning to the Indian, "follow me; I trust in the truth of your story, and will endeavour to preserve you from injury."

While I went out to the end of the passage to send any of the domestics back who might by chance have been coming to that part of the house, my father led the Indian to a large unfurnished room, which the children used as a play-room in rainy weather. At one end was a deep recess in the wall, with a door to it, and from the recess a narrow flight of steps led to a vault of considerable depth, from whence there was a passage to the side of the mountains. In the roof of the chamber there was a small trap-door, through which a thin ladder conducted to the roof of the house. It had evidently been constructed when the building was used as a fortification, and was probably intended to enable the garrison to make a sudden sortie on the enemy at an unexpected point. The outside entrance was blocked up by rubbish overgrown with vegetation; and my father had caused a strong door to be placed to the vault, to prevent any intruder, who might by chance have found his way through it, from entering the house. He always kept the keys himself; and as no one ever thought of wishing to enter the recess, a securer place for the concealment of the fugitive could not have been found. Our evening meal was, fortunately, spread in the parlour, so that we were able to supply our guest with the refreshment he so much required, without exciting the suspicion of the servants. I must remark that several of them, of the higher class, were Spanish, though the rest were Indians; and though we believed them to be honest and faithful, my father did not consider it right to trust them with a secret which might compromise them as well as himself and all his family.

He was very sensible, even as it was, of the risk that he was running; but he had resolved, at all hazards, to preserve the unfortunate man who had thrown himself on his protection. While I kept watch, my mother collected some bedding, and took it into the closet; so that in a few minutes our guest was made as comfortable as circumstances could allow. He ate sparingly of the food placed before him, and then, expressing his deep gratitude for the protection afforded him, he threw himself on his couch, and sought the repose he so much needed. My father having secured the door, called me to him, and we all again assembled in the sitting-room as if nothing had occurred, till summoned by the servant to our evening meal. The arrival of the stranger had, however, an influence on my future fortunes.

While our servant Jose, who was a Spanish Creole, was waiting at table, I could not help looking into his face to try and discover if he suspected anything; but the look of perfect unconsciousness which his countenance bore reassured me. I was afraid also that the children might betray it to their nurses; but our mother had kept them carefully shut up in the sitting-room while our father was concealing the stranger, so that they were under the impression that he had gone away. Lilly and I were therefore the only ones in the secret.

UNWELCOME VISITORS.

When we retired to rest, all night long I dreamed of the unhappy descendant of the Inca who was beneath our roof. Some of the incidents of which I had read in Peruvian history were strongly mixed up in my mind with the reality, with the indistinctness which generally occurs in dreams.

I thought our guest was the mild and unfortunate Huascar, the rightful Inca of Peru, who was a prisoner in the hands of his fierce brother Atahualpa when the Spaniards attacked Peru with their small but determined band of robber-warriors. I thought I was aiding Huascar to escape from among his brother's army. We had passed the guards, who were fast asleep, when we came to a broad river. We attempted to swim across, when I felt my strength failing me. Huascar was bravely buffeting the stream by my side. Suddenly the bank was lined with troops. They shouted to us, and let fly a cloud of arrows at the Inca. He stopped swimming. I endeavoured to drag him on; but as I grasped at him he sank below the water. The shouts grew louder. I awoke. The noise was real, for I heard the voices of some men calling in Spanish at the court-yard gate, and desiring to be let in.

I trembled with alarm; for I at once suspected that the strangers must be the emissaries of government come in search of our guest. I jumped up and began to dress myself, intending to go out to inquire who they were; but before I had left my room I heard Jose, the servant, hold a parley with them at the gate.

"Who are you," he asked, "who come at this unreasonable hour to disturb a quiet family?"

"Open in the king's name, and we will let you know," was the answer he received.

"I must get my master's leave first, and he is fast asleep," he replied.

"We are government officers in search of a fugitive malefactor, and are benighted on our road; so you must awake your master whoever he is, and he will not refuse to give us shelter," they exclaimed.

"Be quick there," said the strangers, "for we have but a short time to rest, and we must speedily be again on our road."

"What shall I do, Master David?" said Jose. "If we do not let them in they will batter down the door; but still I do not like to disturb the Senor Rexton. They do not look like robbers, so it is all right." With the knowledge that the Indian concealed in the house was in all probability the fugitive the officers were seeking, I felt that it was all wrong, and would have given much to have kept them out; but still I saw that it would be equally dangerous to attempt to do so. My heart all the time was beating audibly with agitation; and I was afraid that even Jose would suspect the secret. However, I replied, "Let them in, Jose, by all means, and do you attend to what they require."

He accordingly withdrew the bolts and bars of the gate, and two chief officers--alguazils they are called--and four subordinates made their appearance.

Two of them remained without to take care of their horses. They were all fierce, rough-looking fellows, armed with muskets, pistols in their belts, and swords by their sides. The officers of justice were often pardoned banditti, cut-throats and robbers of the blackest dye, who were glad to accept the office as an alternative for the garotte; and I believe our visitors were of that description. The inferiors were Mestizos, half Indian and half Spaniards by descent, with dark brown complexions and savage countenances--altogether gentlemen of a very unprepossessing appearance. They were accompanied by a dog, a huge, savage-looking hound, whom they called by the very ugly name of Demonio. If he was a bloodhound, as at first I thought he was, I felt that the detection of the Indian would be certain.

"You were a long time opening the gate, friend," observed, one of them as they strode into the house. "You took us for robbers, I suppose?"

"O no, Senor, not at all," said Jose; "but a servant should not let strangers into the house without his master's leave."

"Is that young senor your master then?" inquired the alguazil.

"He is my master's son; my master is Senor Rexton, an Englishman, and he is fast asleep," said Jose.

"Well, you need not disturb him then; all we want is food and shelter for the night," replied the alguazil. "Be quick with the former, some straw and blankets will serve us for beds. While, hark you, do you send some one to show the way to the stables, that our beasts may be looked after; they require food as much as we do."

"All shall be done you request, Senores; in the mean time, follow me," said Jose; and what was my dismay to see him lead the way to the large empty room I have spoken of, close to which the Indian was concealed! I dared not interfere, lest I might excite their suspicions; so I thought it best to let Jose follow his own course. Having dragged in a table from one of the other rooms, he placed a lighted candle on it, and then hurried off to call up some of the other servants to help him, leaving me alone with the officers. I was afraid of speaking to them, lest they should ask me questions; so I made signs that the servant would quickly return with what they required. I dared not even look towards the door of the secret passage, to which every instant I expected to see some of them go for the purpose of examining it. However, somewhat to my relief, they seemed not to notice the door, but throwing themselves on the ground, stretched out their limbs to rest themselves, while their hound Demonio crouched down at their feet with his head between his fore-paws, ready to spring up in a moment. I saw by the glare of his half-closed eyes that he was all the time wide awake, and eager to spring upon any one who might molest him or his masters.

My anxiety made me fancy that Jose was a long time absent, but he had really been away only a few minutes, when he returned with another servant, bringing a supply of bread and meat, and wine. Some chairs were carried into the room; and the officers being joined by their companions, they attacked the viands with a good will. Had Jose been in the secret, he might have betrayed it, but his perfectly collected manner gave no cause for suspicion.

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