The Araucanians and the Quichuas had as different racial characteristics as can be imagined. Although the Araucanians did not constitute a nation in the proper sense of the word but were divided into a large number of clans, each independent and recognizing no master, they never allowed any outside people to interfere with their national life. They were intensely independent. Even the chiefs lacked authority in time of peace. There were no serfs or slaves. More important still, there were no laws; private wrongs had to be settled privately. All of these elements must be taken into consideration when contemplating the character of the Chilean of to-day. His Spanish ancestors brooked no interference and recognized no central government, but his Araucanian forebears were still more intensely fond of individual liberty. His Spanish ancestors were brave and fearless. No better soldiers existed in Europe in the sixteenth century. The Araucanians were even more warlike, and after their first few defeats by the invaders, they successfully assumed the offensive, storming Spanish towns and carrying off cattle and horses. They organized troops of cavalry, learning to excel on an animal that their fathers had never heard of, and which the Quichuas even now rarely dare to mount. The entire Araucanian nation was less numerous than the army of Quichuas that surrounded Atahualpa when he was successfully attacked by Pizarro, yet they killed more Spanish soldiers than fell in the conquest of the entire remainder of the continent. With such an ancestry, it is not remarkable that the Chileans are notoriously the best fighters on the continent to-day. Contrast their inheritance with that of the Peruvians.
The Quichuas were and are a timid, peaceful folk lacking in dignity, defending themselves rather with cunning and falsehood than by deeds of arms. The servile sentiment is deeply rooted in the Quichua nature. He maintains a sense of loyalty for his former masters, but he has absolutely no idea of liberty or independence. The Quichuas had reached a higher state of culture than the Araucanians but their manly characteristics were far less developed. In fact, at the time of the Spanish conquest, they seem to have been already in a decadent condition. With such blood in their veins, it is not surprising that the Peruvians were easily defeated by the Chileans, their country overrun and humiliated, their valuable nitrate fields seized, and the seeds of intense national hatred planted that will take generations to eradicate.
CHAPTER XXVI
AYACUCHO TO LIMA
Every one had told us that it would be “absolutely impossible” to leave Ayacucho until two or three days had elapsed after the end of the Carnival. Possibly because we were a trifle homesick, and possibly because we had been assured so positively that it could not be done, we determined to try to leave Ayacucho on the last day of the three devoted to Carnival. I must confess that it was rather cruel, not only to the two soldiers who were ordered to accompany us, but also the arriero who was informed that he must provide us with mules and go when we were ready to start. The morning was spent in a great row over the mules and the question as to how far they were to go with us, in which many tears were shed by drunken Indian women who declared that they were sure they would never see their husbands or animals back again. If it had not been for the Prefect’s willingness to help us, we could never have persuaded any one to go, but he did his part splendidly. We at length got off just at noon. The Prefect and his friends, to the number of fourteen, escorted us for the first league out of the city. Then we bade them an affectionate farewell and started off on the last stage of our journey, determined, if possible, to travel henceforth as much like private citizens as we could. To be sure, we had our little military escort. Without them we should have found it almost impossible to proceed at all for the next few days. Our first two leagues were over the same road which we had used in going to Quinua, then, instead of fording the river, we kept on its left bank until we reached a shaky suspension bridge. Its floor was made of loose planks that were so easily misplaced by the mules that Hay declared he had to set them all over again after I had passed in order to avoid falling into the river.
We met on the road many Indians, celebrating Carnival, marching along gayly, beating primitive little drums and blowing on bamboo-fifes. They stopped at almost every house they passed, shouting and hullabalooing and getting a few drinks of chicha.
As we were crossing the rocky bed of a little stream we met an itinerant musician, a blind harpist, who was being helped across by a friend. His harp was very curious, being a wooden box shaped like half a cone with two wooden legs tacked into its base, and two eye-holes on the flat side which made it look very much like some dwarfish animal. With great difficulty we tried to persuade him to set up his harp in the dry bed of the stream and play us a tune while we took his picture. Not having the slightest conception of what we were trying to do, the poor blind musician was rather frightened, and as he understood no Spanish whatever, we should not have succeeded had it not been for the kind offices of a pleasant-faced mestizo family party who were picnicking on the bank of the stream and who translated our poor Spanish into Quichua. In the evening we reached Huanta, an historic little town where savage Indian tribes from the Amazonian forests have frequently come into collision with armed Peruvian forces. Although we hoped to be able to slip into town unnoticed, we were met, a mile out, by the usual dozen of hospitably inclined caballeros who, with the Gobernador at their head, had been “celebrating” for the past two or three days. We were by this time so fatigued by the labors of crossing Peru in the wet season, that we found it very difficult to be as polite as we were expected to be to the reception committees that had been our lot hitherto. However, in this case, to put it bluntly, the Gobernador was very drunk, which made him only the more friendly, and he insisted that we were two “princes of America,” and that his house would be everlastingly famous in history as having been the place where we stayed!
His wife and daughters behaved splendidly. They seemed to realize that we knew it was customary for all the men to get drunk at this season of the year. At the same time they did their best to make us comfortable and to see that the male members of the family did not annoy us any more than they could help.
Naturally, the “morning after” was a sad occasion, and had it not been for our excellent soldiers, who had gone to bed sober, it would have been very difficult to have persuaded our hosts to let us go. The Gobernador was extremely cross. He had
