Such is the simple and ingenious plan the southern nations employ to favour their invasion of the territory of the whites, to hide their manoeuvres, and conceal their numbers from the piercing eyes of the bomberos. The smoke like a floating wall, separated the Indians from Carmen, and in consequence of the brightness of the nights they had selected the period of the full moon.
The scouts, in spite of the dense smoke that protected the enemy, arrived at a gallop one after the other, and announced that they would be before Carmen during the night. In fact, the Indian hordes, whose numbers incessantly increased, covered the whole extent of the plain, and advanced on the town with startling rapidity.
By the governor's orders, the three alarm shots were fired. The estancieros could then be seen flocking up, driving their cattle before them, and on seeing their houses fired, and their rich crops destroyed, they shed tears of despair. These poor people encamped where they could, in the open places of the town, and after leading their wives and daughters to the fort, those who were of manly age took up arms, and rushed to the barriers and barricades, resolved to take vengeance for their ruin.
The consternation and terror were general; on all sides could be heard lamentation and stifled sobs; the night arrived to add its horrors to the situation, and enfold the town in its mourning. Numerous patrols traversed the streets, and, at intervals, daring bomberos slipped furtively out of the city to watch the approach of the coming peril.
About two in the morning, in the midst of an impressive silence, a slight sound was audible, at first almost imperceptible, but which was every moment augmented, and, as if by enchantment, the Aucas crowned the top of the barricades in Población del Sur, and waving lighted torches, uttered their war yell.
For a moment the inhabitants fancied the town captured; but Major Bloomfield, who commanded this post, was on his guard against the tricks of the Indians. At the moment when the Aucas prepared to escalade the barricades, a sharp fusillade broke out, which hurled them to the foot of the entrenchments. The Argentines dashed forward at the bayonet point, and there was a frightful medley, from which issued groans of agony, imprecations, and the harsh clang of steel against steel. This was all; the Spaniards regained their position, the Indians disappeared, and the town, so lately illumined by the light of the torches, fell back into shadow and silence.
As the Indian surprise had failed, they would either withdraw or invest the town. At daybreak, however, all the illusions of the inhabitants were dissipated—the enemy had not thought of retreating.
It was a heart-rending sight! the country was devastated, and the expiring flames could still be seen in the distance. Here, a band of Aucas were driving horses off; there, warriors, with lances erect, were watching the movements of the townspeople; behind them squaws and children were driving cattle, which uttered long lowings; here and there prisoners, men, women, and children, forced along by blows with lance staves, were holding up their suppliant arms to the town walls. Patagonians were planting poles and erecting toldos; and, lastly, far as eye could reach, fresh bands of Indians descended into the plain from all sides.
The oldest soldiers in the fort, who had been witnesses of previous wars, were amazed at the regularity of the enemy's march. The toldos were skilfully grouped; the infantry executed, with great precision, movements which they had hitherto been ignorant of, and it was an extraordinary thing, which stupefied the colonel and the major, to see the Aucas form a parallel round the town, and almost instantaneously throw up earthworks, which protected them from the artillery.
"¡Sangre de Dios!" the colonel exclaimed, "There is a traitor among the villains; never before have they waged war in this way."