Days, weeks and months passed. Often I would spend hours in the wild solitudes hunting the vicuna and alpaca, or in some gloomy cañon communing with myself. Within my spirit I could hear an undertone, “Why cast thyself on waters wild, believing that God is gone, that love is dead and Nature spurns her child?” So, from my grief, I arose at length to feel new life returning. New hopes and ambitions sprang forth in my soul that had so keenly felt God’s chastening rod.
A year had passed. I was in Arequipa. Chico had my room ready and my friends gave me a splendid banquet in one of the 146 largest restaurants in the city. In all ages the world has had two ways of doing honor to a man. One is by parade, the other by setting him down to a banquet table and making speeches about him until they overcrowd his emotions and leave him limp and speechless. I had to pass through this ordeal. The Prefectos of Arequipa and Puno, the Commanding General of the Government troops, the manager and officials of the railway and a host of friends of lesser note, but none the less loyal hearts, crowded the banquet room. They feasted, drank wine, sang songs and made speeches to me and about me that were enough to have satisfied the vanity of a survivor of Thermopylae. At the close, the Prefecto of Puno arose, and after saying things that were loudly applauded, presented me with ten thousand dollars not as a gift, but as something I had justly earned. He was followed by the general manager of the railroad, who said his company desired to show their appreciation of my conduct in the Sumbay bridge affair, and on their behalf 147 he presented me with two thousand dollars. Manuel, too, came in for his share of honors and praise. He was presented with five hundred dollars by the Prefecto of Puno and two hundred dollars by the company––more money than he had ever seen in his life, or ever hoped to possess. Deserving fellow, his eyes streamed with tears of joy and gratitude when he received the money which would now enable him to own a comfortable home. His pleasure was even greater the next day, when I gave him one thousand dollars.
THE HOME VOYAGE OF THE AVEN WAS FRAUGHT WITH ALL THE DANGERS OF THE SEA. (Page 26)
A month later, and Arequipa was wild with excitement. War had been declared by Chile against allied Peru and Bolivia. It was a sad blow, as Peru had been extremely prosperous and was rapidly forging ahead in the commerce of the world. I had concluded to leave the country and seek some other field, when a call was made to the railroad men to assist the government to convey troops from the interior to the coast. I responded and was sent to Santa Rosa on the proposed railway to Cusco, the ancient capital of Peru. Here a great number of Indians were huddled together to be sent to Arequipa, and drilled and sent to the coast. They were abject and disconsolate. The priests were calling on them to be brave and return victorious. These people had never seen the ocean and had never lived in an altitude of less than two miles. There was much suffering in store for them under the tropic sun of the coast. I asked an officer if he thought these men would make good soldiers. He replied with an air of great importance, and looking quite serious, that he had received word that the Chilean navy was coming to bombard Mollendo, and it was his intention to instruct the Indians in the use of the rifle. When the ships came near enough, he would station his men among the rocks and shoot the sailors off the decks. This, too, with flint lock rifles––a sample of the calibre of the Peruvian officer of the interior and his unfortunate Indian soldiers.
After getting to the head of the Tambo 149 valley, I proceeded to Mollendo and found a terrible state of affairs. Everyone was expecting the Chilean fleet; men and women were carrying their household goods to the mountains. At sight of every ship on the horizon, whether sailing vessel or steamer, a cry would go forth––“They come––they come!” The greatest confusion prevailed. There was no organization, no discipline; everybody for himself, and all running at the cry of––“They come!”
One morning about ten o’clock the hostile fleet did come.