They meant at first to kill the priest's dusky guide, but Bria Rocca said that black blood was useless, and they let him go. But he had to swear by the great Mahu Mahu that he should not tell a soul what he had seen; if he did tell, the Aruacans would come for him in tens of thousands, and they would not be particular as to who was white and who black. So they let him go through the same way as he and the monks came in, and he could not say how he got out of the crater.
Of course, nobody believed a word of the Indian's story, and they believed that he himself killed the monks and invented a fable. It was all a tissue of lies, they thought, and the unfortunate man was pinned to a stake outside Sant-Jago.
The Indian's story had long been forgotten in Chili. Valdivia returned with glory and overwhelmed with distinction from Peru, and settled down to live peacefully in the town which bore his name. He dispersed his troops amongst the various towns and settlements, and he had hardly more than three hundred soldiers left with him. These, moreover, got out of practice, as they seldom had occasion to handle the gun.
All of a sudden, on a still and quiet night, a wild noise awoke the peaceful inhabitants of Valdivia. Frantic shouting came from the surrounding hills, and all around the farm-buildings were set on fire; the faces of hundreds of people were distinguished by the flames. "The Aruacans have returned!" were the words, distractedly uttered, that sounded through the town, and that also reached Valdivia's palace. Yes, the Aruacans have returned—to ask for an explanation regarding the presumption of building a town over the graves of their ancestors; and Bria Rocca was there to inquire who it was that killed thousands of his subjects, and also who it was that kissed the cheek of Evoeva. The attack was so sudden and unexpected that there was no time to report the great danger to the adjoining town; and before Valdivia had time to draw his sword all the hills surrounding the town were occupied by thousands of the Red Indians. There was only one outlet from the town through which the Spaniards might have escaped, and it seemed as if the Indians had purposely left that unguarded. The Spaniards were not, however, to be led into a trap, rightly thinking that it would have been folly to throw themselves upon thousands of wild and enraged Indians, who would have despatched them with their poisonous spears; they, therefore, drew up their guns on the fortification walls. How, possibly, can the simple arrows of the Indians compete with such weapons?
The Indians occupied all the adjoining hills, and had they had guns in their possession they could very easily have fired into the town.
Valdivia's men looked quietly down from the rampart walls, for they observed that the Indians had no storming engines with which they might attack the stronghold.
Bria Rocca's tent was erected on a hill concealed from view by huge cocoa-palms, from which Valdivia's palace could be seen. At the Indian chief's command the brown leaves of eight trees were pulled down, and the trunks of the trees were cut open to the extent of several feet in width; then were tied to their tops long ropes of sap-wood, the other end of the ropes being twisted round a potter's wheel which was made to turn by means of long rods. Under the influence of these ropes the trees got quite bent and their tops touched the ground. Then the Indians placed some strange-looking vessels into the hollows of the trunks; the mouths of these vessels were covered over with india-rubber. Bria Rocca next pulled his axe from his belt and cut the ropes in twain. The palm trunks flew up with great force, and with a tremendous noise the jugs that had been placed in the tree-hollows shot into the market-place of Valdivia. Each tree discharged its dangerous bombs as did the others. Oh, what a curse those bombs proved! Thousands upon thousands of poisonous serpents escaped from the broken jugs and, maddened by white man's blood, rushed at the people in every direction. Guns were of no avail when dealing with these cursed little monsters. The bloodthirsty, devil-moved insects crept up the legs of the horses, and getting beneath the armour killed their riders. They swarmed all over the streets and streamed into the houses, killing the women and children and those who could not fly from them. In one hour's time Valdivia had more dead than fighting men. Valdivia himself became desperate and mounted his horse, and, accompanied by a hundred horsemen, proceeded towards the gate leading to Sant-Jago, that gate which the Indians had left unguarded. He heard the triumphant shouts of the Indians and saw before him the ancient forest shooting out flames in hundreds of directions. He was surrounded! The enraged Indians followed him up behind, and in front the burning forest cut off the means of escape. His companions rode away in alarm; they preferred to die fighting, not in this manner. Valdivia thought it best to boldly cut his way through the burning forest, and so effect his escape—or perish in the attempt. The Indians pursued him to the edge of the forest, but seeing how boldly he galloped through the flames they nearly all held back there. One man only attempted to pursue him further—namely, Bria Rocca. The Spanish horses on which both were mounted did not fear the fire. Burning foliage fell over them and little embers glowed under their feet; still the two horses wildly plunged forward, step for step. Valdivia did not even look back, and he did not, therefore, observe the Indian chief when he threw a long harpoon spear at him. This spear entered his body, and when it was pulled out the heart came away along with it.
The spot on which Valdivia stood was strewn with the charred ruins of the burned town, and there—on that gloomy space—Bria Rocca, after ten years' mourning, held a feast in honour of the injured Goddess Morinka. He sent for his wife Evoeva, whom he had thrust away from him, and upon whose countenance he had not gazed for ten years; and when he had embraced her he presented her with a tambourine and a flute of bone, as well as a cup filled with native wine. Then he said: "This is a day of great rejoicing, Evoeva. To-day you must sing, drink and dance. Strike upon this tambourine, blow the flute, empty the cup—the tambourine is made from Valdivia's skin, the flute is his bone, the cup his head."