A small boy, gaudily dressed, was awaiting outside Aniwee’s tolderia, and as she rode up respectfully held her bridle rein. As she sprung from her horse, a young man stepped forward to meet her.
If abundance of fine clothes, gleaming ornaments, and jingling spurs can make a man handsome in a woman’s eyes, then Inacayal might be styled good-looking. Now Inacayal was a Cacique of high degree, being none other than the son of Quintuhual, brother of the great Cuastral, and therefore first cousin to Piñone, Aniwee’s dead husband. In the natural course of events, and in accordance with the laws hitherto prevailing amongst the Araucanians, Inacayal ought to have been proclaimed paramount Cacique on the death of Cuastral and Piñone, inasmuch as this latter’s child was only a girl. But the example of Aniwee had so impressed the warriors, and both Piñone and Cuastral had been so highly respected and loved by the great tribe, that by a vast majority this people had declared that Guardia, Piñone’s baby girl, should reign over them; and, as we have already seen, Aniwee had been appointed Queen-Regent, with the full powers of an absolute Cacique.
Now this arrangement did not at all suit the ambition of Inacayal, who had every desire to wield the power entrusted to Aniwee. Had not he, Inacayal, accompanied Cuastral and Piñone on their great raid? Had he not, with his own eyes, seen them treacherously killed, and their bodies carried off by the Cristianos, and had he not brought back the news, expecting to see himself at once proclaimed Cacique? His anger and disappointment may well be imagined when affairs took the turn described, and he found himself supplanted by a mere baby, and a girl.
But Inacayal, though he had thought it politic to assume an air of submission and acquiescence, was far from feeling well disposed towards Aniwee. Very bitterly did he resent her intrusion where he had hoped to stand alone, and he had secretly made up his mind to work not only her destruction, but that of the little Guardia as well. A very King John was this crafty Inacayal.
“Do the friends of the Great Queen draw nigh?” he inquired, with a smile, after saluting Aniwee Indian fashion, by raising his right hand, shading his right eye, and touching his forehead with his thumb, middle, and right fingers.
“Yes, Inacayal,” she answered, with a glad laugh, “and they will be here ere the sun seeks its rest. Do you form up the companies of our warriors while I deck myself as befits a Warrior Queen.”
The young man’s eyes sparkled with anger and rage at these words, but deftly concealing his feelings, he again saluted respectfully and retired, Aniwee passing into her own tolderia.
This erection stood some seventeen feet high, being spacious enough inside to accommodate fifty persons. It was closed in all round by skin coverings, the doorway being fronted by a curtain of gay-coloured silk. All round the tolderia ran a kind of verandah, the canopy of which was formed of interwoven branches covered with bright green leaves. A small Union Jack flag ornamented the top of this structure, which inside possessed an air of comfort and civilisation, quite strange to behold. Several beds, made of the soft warm skins of the vicuña and guanaco, and raised from the ground on neatly arranged blocks of wood, stood side by side in line; and shields, bows and arrows, spears, guns and rifles, puma, guanaco, and vicuña heads were tastefully and skilfully hung from the woodwork and pine-posts, to which the hide walls of this spacious dwelling were attached. Lying on one of these beds, and cosily wrapped in a magnificent skunk and wild cat fur capa, was a little copper-coloured baby, with large dark eyes and a solemn grave face. Its tiny hands grasped two small silver bell ornaments, which they jingled together unceasingly. Every now and then the baby would break into a joyous laugh and crow with delight, sounds which instantly chased away the solemn look on its face, and brought in its place a merry, happy expression.
When Aniwee entered, baby at once dropped its playthings, and stretching out its little arms to the girl, gave vent to sounds of delight, judging by the smiles that wreathed its well-formed dark red lips. The young Queen at once responded to its evident invitation to approach, and crossing to the bed, lifted the tiny mite in her arms.
“Guardia, child of my heart,” she exclaimed tenderly, as the little creature clasped her round the neck, “was Guardia looking for Mamita?” Again the little Guardia crowed and laughed. She could not speak, being barely eight months old, but she could show how much she loved her young mother by the numberless caresses which she bestowed upon her.