Read Ebook: The Crimson Conquest: A Romance of Pizarro and Peru by Hudson Charles B Charles Bradford Leyendecker J C Joseph Christian Illustrator

Font size: 10 px 15 px 20 px 25 px 30 px 35 px

Background color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Text color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Apply/Save settings

Ebook has 1723 lines and 137146 words, and 35 pages

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, "Se?or 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!"

"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 se?ora 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, se?ora!" 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, Se?ora Bolio," he pleaded. "Be discreet, I pray thee! Talk of it first to--to Father Gregorio, now. Thou'rt young, and--" The se?ora 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, se?ora!" 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! Se?ora, 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, se?ora--"

"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 se?ora 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 se?ora 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 se?ora 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 re?nforcement, 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.

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.

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, Se?or 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 aegis 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.

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

"And copper-colored dames will rock their copper-colored brats in Spanish bucklers," added an infantryman named Juarez.

"And make soup in Spanish morions," growled another.

"Hast thought of these things?" asked Moreno.

"Aye, I have thought of them," replied Cristoval, "and I confess your prophecy seemeth not unlikely; but--"

"But the worst of the matter is that the farther we go the smaller our chance of plunder," continued Moreno. "At Coaque every varlet of the natives wore his gold and silver. They shed it at a poke of the finger in the ribs. Hereabouts the people are as innocent of precious metal as a flock of sheep."

"At Coaque, moreover," said Juarez, "we were not far from Quito, and if there was aught in the rumors concerning that city, the looting of it would load us all with what we seek. At any rate, if the Inca with his army lieth beyond these accursed mountains, he is not at Quito. We might have sacked the city and been away ere this, and getting the worth of our gold in pleasure at Panama."

"In brief, this," responded Moreno, emphatically. "Give over this harebrained purpose of bearding the lion and being made meat for his whelps, and go back where we found gold in plenty."

"But the general hath planned otherwise," remarked Cristoval, revolving his cup. "Dost think he is a man to alter at our discontent? I think not."

"Most certainly he will not alter--so long as he hath followers," replied Moreno. "But if we refuse to follow?"

Share on: WhatsApp @Hash Facebook Tweet