The battle began at day-break, and was continued till night; fresh troops of Indians constantly pouring in to fill the places of those shot down by the Spaniards. The commander of the fort sent, during the night, a messenger to Valdivia, who immediately returned. The Indians were thus attacked on both sides; the musketry and horse made a terrible slaughter among them; they had no arms but bows and slings, yet they fought most furiously, till nearly all their army was destroyed.
Valdivia thus relieved the siege, and rebuilt the city; but, for six years, the natives were constant in their attacks; they cut off the Spaniards at every opportunity, destroyed the crops, and, finally, rendered all the fertile plains around St. Jago uncultivated and desert; and then retired to the mountains.
The Spanish soldiers had become heartily tired of this fighting life. A few battles did very well, but to spend year after year in warfare was not at all comfortable. So they finally determined to kill their general, and then return to Peru. Valdivia discovered the conspiracy, and finally succeeded in quelling it.
About the same time, he obtained possession of a rich gold mine, in the valley of Quillota; and, by distributing the gold freely among his men, he found that they soon grew contented. But he discovered that he needed more soldiers, as the natives were far from being subdued; and he had constantly to keep a detachment of troops to guard the miners.
At length, Valdivia resolved to send, by land, two of his captains, Monroy and Miranda, with six companions, whose spurs, bits, and stirrups he directed to be made of gold, hoping thus to entice the Spaniards in Peru to come to his assistance.
These messengers were escorted by thirty horsemen, who were to accompany them to the borders of Chili. They reached Copiapo: here they were attacked by one hundred archers, commanded by Corteo, an officer of the Ulmen. The Spaniards were all slain, except the two captains, who, dreadfully wounded, were taken prisoners, and brought before the Ulmen.
That prince resolved to put them to death; but, at the solicitation of his wife, the Ulmena, he finally consented to spare them. She unbound them with her own hands, dressed their wounds, and treated them like brothers. When they were fully recovered, she desired them to teach her son the art of riding, as several of the horses had been taken alive in the defeat.
The two Spaniards readily consented to her request, hoping that they should find means to escape. This was natural; nor would it, perhaps, have been wrong, had they not committed a most horribly ungrateful crime to effect it. They were not strictly guarded, and frequently rode out with the young prince. One day, as this youth, the son of their benefactress, was riding between them, escorted by his archers, and preceded by his lance-bearer, Monroy suddenly attacked him with a poiniard he had concealed, and gave him several mortal wounds; while Miranda wrested the lance from the officer; and, in the confusion caused to the escort by seeing their young prince bleeding on the ground, these two treacherous Spaniards easily escaped.
But this breach of faith was ultimately of great disadvantage to the Spaniards. That one unprovoked murder probably caused the death of hundreds; because the natives never, after the occurrence, seemed to have put any faith in the professions of the white men.
The succeeding year or two were spent by Valdivia in fighting, and founding cities. The natives were gradually losing strength and hope; many were slain in the wars, and some yielded to what seemed inevitable, and became the allies of the Spaniards.