The sun went down, and everything became hushed in the Indian camp. Sleep held its reign over all.
After Guaitu had quitted the tolderia, Blancha had made up the fire that burnt therein, and again importuned Graviel to snatch a few hours’ sleep. She was not tired, she affirmed, and would hold the first watch, awaking him later on to take up the second. In her heart, however, the Indian girl had resolved to take the whole watch upon herself, and thus afford the wounded youth the rest he so sorely needed; and Graviel, yielding to her entreaties, had consented to her proposal, and the drugged draught quickly taking effect, he was soon plunged in a profound and heavy slumber. And as she sat and watched beside the baby Queen, a strange drowsiness crept over the Indian girl Blancha. It came upon her so suddenly, that she yielded to its influence without being aware of doing so. Her eyes closed, her head fell forward on her chest, and, like Graviel, her slumber was heavy and profound.
Then a creeping figure stole noiselessly into the tolderia, carrying something in its arms. The figure was Guaitu’s. In a moment he made his way to the little Queen’s couch, laid amongst the warm skins a tiny baby of the same age as the Guardia Chica, and dressed in every respect in the same manner. Then he seized hold of the baby Cacique, stifled the piteous cry to which she tried to give vent, and like lightning vanished from the tolderia. It was all the work of a few seconds. The exchange had been deftly and quickly made, and no one had witnessed the deed.
Daylight had begun to glimmer in the heavens when Blancha awoke with a start. The child by her side was crying, and she sprung towards it with a terrible foreboding of evil. Her head ached, and she felt dull and heavy; but she shook herself, and tried to free herself from the stupor, which still seemed to cling to her brain. On his couch Graviel lay sleeping. The child’s cries appeared to make no impression upon him, which seemed to her to be a most unusual thing. She bent over the baby and took it in her arms. The poor little thing felt cold, and she bitterly reproached herself for her neglect. The fire, though it had burnt low, was not out, and she stirred the embers and put on some dry logs, and fanned the former until they ignited with the fresh fuel and burst out into flame. Then she sat down by the fire and laid the baby on her lap, and strove tardily to repair for her neglect of the child.
Suddenly, however, a loud cry echoed throughout the tolderia, arousing even the dulled senses of poor Graviel. Springing towards Blancha, who had fallen on her knees, and was moaning bitterly with her head bowed in her clasped hands, he excitedly inquired of her what was the matter. A child’s whining lament sounded from one of the corners of the toldo, and looking that way, he perceived what appeared to him to be the baby person of the child Cacique.
With an exclamation of anger he rushed towards it, but as he did so, he heard Blancha call out to him in a voice of anguish not to touch it.
“It is not La Guardia Chica, Graviel,” she wailed in heart-broken accents. “The Cacique is not here; she has been stolen, and that child of a viper has been put in her place.”
“Treason!” shouted Graviel, rushing from the tent, and he commenced to call aloud for assistance. His cries attracted Mary and Willie, who hurried to his side, and a few minutes later Guaitu came running up.
“What ails Graviel?” he inquired angrily; “and why these wild cries outside the tolderia of the head Cacique? Art thou mad, boy?”
Graviel turned fiercely towards him. “Where is the head Cacique?” he demanded furiously. “She has been stolen, and a child of a creeping viper put in her place. Where is everybody? Why is all silent and dead in the camp? Why do children only show themselves? Where are the women, the warriors, and the rest?”