As with heavy tread the Spaniards march through the silent streets in which no living thing is visible save a few knots of ancient, witch-like crones who predict in low mournful regrets the destruction of the strangers, the adventure at this point assumes ghostly shape, like the confused manœuvrings of a dream and Caxamalca a phantom city. Quartering his troops in the plaza, Pizarro sends Hernando de Soto with fifteen horsemen,[I‑6] and the interpreter Felipillo, to ask the inca the time and place of the approaching interview; and lest accident should befall the embassy Hernando Pizarro is ordered to follow and assist as occasion requires. Over the causeway toward the imperial camp rushes first one cavalcade and then the other, past manly men and modest women who gaze in mute astonishment as the apparitions emerge from the murky twilight and sweep by and disappear midst clatter of hoofs and clang of arms never before heard in this quarter of the earth. Presently is encountered the Inca's army drawn up in distinct battalions, archers, slingers, clubmen, and spearmen, standing expectantly.[I‑7] The royal pavilion occupies an open space near the centre of the encampment. Within a short distance are the bath-houses, and a rustic dwelling, with plastered walls colored in various tints and surrounded by corridors. On one side is a stone fountain, and a reservoir into which flows water, both hot and cold, from rivulets and springs through aqueducts which intersect the valley in every direction. On the other side are the royal gardens and pleasure-grounds.
MEETING WITH ATAHUALPA.
As the horsemen draw up before the royal quarters the inca is discovered seated on an ottoman in front of his tent and surrounded by groups of courtiers, while beautiful damsels in brilliant attire flit about the grounds. Elegance, discipline, and the profound deference of the nobles toward their chief are apparent at the first glance. The inca, although arrayed less gaudily than his attendants, is easily distinguished by the famous imperial head-dress, or borla, worn by Peruvian monarchs in place of a crown, consisting of a crimson woollen fringe, which Oviedo describes as a tassel of the width of the hand, and about one span in length, gathered upon the crown in the form of a flat brush, the fringe descending over the forehead down to the eyes, and partially covering them, so that the wearer can scarcely see without raising the lower part of it with his hand. The Christians who have heard many tales of his craft and ferocity, look in vain for traces of extraordinary passion or cunning. The borla, according to Jeres, throws a shade of melancholy over the features of Atahualpa; aside from this, however, his face is grave, passionless, and cold. With a single horseman on either side, Hernando de Soto rides forward a few paces, and without dismounting respectfully addresses the inca through Felipillo, the interpreter. "I come, most mighty prince, from the commander of the Christians, who through your courtesy now rests at Caxamalca, ardently longing to kiss your royal hand, and deliver you a message from his puissant master, the king of Spain." Immovable, silent, with eyes downcast, sits the inca as if listening he hears not, as if unaware of any extraordinary occurrence. After an embarrassing pause, a nobleman who stands nearest the august monarch answers, "It is well."
At this juncture Hernando Pizarro rides up and joins in the parley. When informed that a brother of the Spanish captain has arrived, Atahualpa raises his eyes and speaks: "Say to your commander that to-day I fast, but to-morrow I will visit him at Caxamalca." Hereupon the ambassadors turn to depart; but the inca, slow to speak, is slower still to cease speaking, and the Spaniards are motioned to pause. "My cacique Mayzabilica informs me," continues Atahualpa, "that the Christians are cowards, and not invincible as they would make us believe; for on the banks of the Turicara he himself had killed three Spaniards and a horse in revenge for outrages on his people." Checking his rising choler with the thought of the stake for which he played, Hernando Pizarro explains: "Your chieftain tells you false when he says that the Christians dare not fight, or even that they can be overcome. Ten horsemen are enough to put to flight ten thousand of the men of Mayzabilica. My brother comes to offer terms of amity. If you have enemies to be subdued direct us to them, and we will prove the truth of this I say." With an incredulous smile Atahualpa drops the subject and offers refreshments to his visitors. But at this moment the attention of all is directed to another scene.
Hernando de Soto is an expert horseman and superbly mounted. He marks the smile of incredulity with which the broad boast of his comrade had been received by the Peruvians, and in order to inspire a more healthful terror, he drives his iron heel into the flanks of his impatient steed, and darting off at full speed, sweeps round in graceful curves, prancing, leaping, running; then riding off a little distance he wheels and dashes straight toward the royal pavilion. The nobles throw up their hands to shield the sacred person of the inca; a moment after they fly in terror. But when with one more bound the horse would be upon the monarch, the rider reins back the animal to a dead stop. Not the twitching of a muscle is discernible in the features of the inca; though for their cowardice in the presence of strangers, we are told that the nobles next day suffered death. The cavaliers decline food, saying that they, too, are holding a fast; but chicha, or wine of maize, being offered them in golden goblets by dark-eyed beauties, and Atahualpa brooking no refusal, the Spaniards without dismounting drink it off, and then slowly ride back to Caxamalca.
PREMEDITATED TREACHERY.
As the night wears away, while Atahualpa lies dreaming of the twilight apparition, Francisco Pizarro matures his plans. Little as there was in the brief survey of the inca's camp to inspire confidence in attempting here the seizure trick, the Spaniards nevertheless determine to venture it. The details of the proposed perfidy and butchery are arranged with consummate audacity and executed with a cool indifference to human rights and human suffering which would do honor to the chief of anacondas. In issuing to his officers their instructions for the day, which are nothing less than to seize the inca and murder his attendants, Pizarro says: "The project is more feasible than at first glance one might imagine. To administer to us the rites of hospitality, the Indians will not come arrayed in hostile humor. No more can be admitted to the plaza than may be easily vanquished; and with the inca, whom his soldiers worship as a god, within our grasp, we may dictate terms to the empire. Farther than this our case is desperate. Atahualpa has permitted our insignificant force, which he could crush at pleasure, to advance even to the border of his sacred presence; he will scarcely suffer us to depart in peace, did we wish it. Of your hearts make a fortress; for though we be few in number, God will never forsake those who fight his battles."
Mass, attended by pious chants, follows the early clarion call the 16th of November, and dread-dispelling action soon clears the atmosphere of every gloomy foreboding. Arms and armor are put in order and burnished; the horses are decorated with bells and jingling trappings, that they may present a terrifying appearance. A sumptuous repast is spread in one of the halls opening into the plaza in which the inca is to be received. The cavalry is divided into three squadrons under Hernando de Soto, Hernando Pizarro, and Sebastian de Benalcázar, and stationed within the halls on the three sides of the plaza. The foot-soldiers, with the exception of twenty men reserved by Pizarro as his body-guard, occupy rooms adjoining the court, but few being visible. Two small field-pieces are planted opposite the avenue by which the Peruvians approach. Near the artillerymen are stationed the cross-bowmen, and in the tower of the fortress a few musketeers are placed. Thus the Spaniards await their victim till late in the afternoon, when from the tower they behold that which causes trepidation not less than courage-cooling delay. Three hundred warriors in gay uniforms clear the way of sticks or stones or other obstruction for the royal procession, which is headed by Atahualpa, seated on a throne of gold, in a plumed palanquin garnished with precious stones, and borne on the shoulders of his vassals. On either side and behind the royal litter walk the counsellors of the realm, and behind it follows battalion after battalion of the forces of the inca until thirty thousand soldiers in martial array occupy the causeway from the Peruvian camp half way to Caxamalca. Surely the projected seizure in the midst of such a host were madness, and without a miracle it would seem that the Christians must abandon their pious purpose. The miracle, however, is not wanting. Just before reaching the entrance in the city, Atahualpa pitches his tents with the intention of passing there the night and entering Caxamalca the next morning. This, the death-blow to the high hopes of the day, Pizarro determines if possible to prevent. Despatching a messenger to the inca, he beseeches him to change his purpose, and to sup with him that night. The inca assents, saying that in view of the lateness of the hour he will bring only a few unarmed attendants. And to his subjects he remarks, "Arms are unnecessary in our intercourse with those engaged in so holy a mission." Hence the miracle.
VISIT OF ATAHUALPA.
Though few in comparison with his entire army, the attendants of Atahualpa numbered several thousands, as just before sunset, slowly and with measured tread, they march up the main avenue toward the plaza keeping step to the sonorous music of the singers and with the dancers who amble before the royal litter. Nearest the person of the monarch are the orejones, as the Spaniards styled the Peruvian noblemen, richly attired with armor and crowns of gold and silver, some walking, others in litters, according to their several ranks. Around his neck over a sleeveless waistcoat, the inca wears a band of large emeralds; under the magic borla, the dull, cold, listless look of the preceding evening had given place to an expression of enkindled majesty. Entering the plaza the royal procession deploy to right and left, Atahualpa and his nobles taking their station in the centre, and the Peruvian soldiery filling the remaining space. Profound quiet fills the place, and so hidden behind the forms of his own swarthy warriors are the few Spaniards appearing that Atahualpa, without descending from the litter, casts about him an inquiring glance and asks an attendant, "Have the strangers fled?"[I‑8] At this moment a priest, Vicente de Valverde, accompanied by the interpreter, emerges from one of the halls. In one hand he bears a bible and in the other a crucifix.[I‑9] Approaching the royal litter, the ecclesiastic harangues the inca, beginning with the doctrines of the trinity, creation, redemption, and delegation of authority,[I‑10] and ending with faith, hope, and charity, as manifest in the person of the pirate Pizarro.