Manco, the Peruvian Chief / Or, An Englishman's Adventures in the Country of the Incas

by William Henry Giles Kingston

The prisoners were all driven together like a flock of sheep within one of the enclosures, and a sentry was placed over them, with orders to shoot any who might attempt to escape. After the horses had been picketed in a grassy spot close to the ruins, the soldiers lighted their fires to dress their evening meal, while the two officers sat themselves down on a fragment of stone and smoked their cigars, taking no notice of us. Our horses and luggage mule had been placed with the others under a guard; so they thought, I suppose, that we should not attempt to escape. Meantime my father and I sat at a little distance, watching the proceedings of our very unwelcome companions, while Ithulpo stood near, casting every now and then towards them glances expressive of the most intense hatred, and a desire of vengeance. The sun was still low, but his rays yet tinged the topmost branches of the trees and the lofty ranges of mountains in the distance. The soldiers had brought skins of wine and plenty of good cheer with them; and when they had eaten, they passed the wine-skins round right merrily, the officers joining in the carouse. Instead of pouring the wine into cups, they lifted the skins high above their heads, and without touching the vessel to their lips, allowed the wine to run down their throat in a gentle stream. As we were close enough to them to be easily watched, the officers, I suppose, thought that we should not attempt to move away. Ithulpo had stowed a sort of knapsack he carried with some dried meat and bread, which he now produced, and it served to satisfy our appetites; but we had no wine, and our surly guards did not deign to offer us any.

“Do not repine, sirs, at the want,” he observed. “I will show you a pure stream, the water of which, ere to-morrow’s sun has set, those soldiers will value more than the finest wine their country can produce.”

The sun went down, and the shades of night came rapidly on, but still the Spaniards continued their debauch. They had apparently forgotten us and their other prisoners; for though by the light of their fires we could clearly see them, sitting as we were under the shadow of a wall, we were no longer visible to them. Ithulpo came and sat himself down beside me.

“Could we not manage to get away from these people?” I asked in a whisper.

“Not now,” he answered. “The sentries would give the alarm if we attempted to take the horses, and without them we cannot move. To-morrow we shall have a better opportunity, and we may help some of my poor countrymen to escape at the same time.”

“Why do you expect that a good opportunity to escape will occur?” I inquired.

“I cannot at present reply to your question,” he said. “Those who now guard us will no longer be able to do so. Trust to me. You will enter Lima as free men, and no one will appear as a witness against you, to support the false accusation these people have made.”

I forbore to question him further, but there was something very mysterious in his look and manner; and at first the horrid idea occurred to me that he had by some means contrived to poison the Spaniards, for otherwise I could not account for the confidence with which he pronounced his prediction. However, I endeavoured to banish the suspicion as too dreadful to be entertained. At length the commanding officer seemed to recollect that he had duties to attend to. Fresh guards were set over the prisoners and the horses, wood was collected and the fires were made up, and a sentinel was posted near the spot, under shelter of a wall, which we had selected for our place of rest. Ithulpo got leave to bring us our saddles and horse-trappings to serve us for beds, and he likewise brought us our portmanteaus and saddle-bags, which he placed near us. The soldiers threw themselves on the ground, and were very soon fast asleep. Our sentry also, from the manner his head every now and then gave a sharp nod, was evidently very drowsy. The heat of the weather, the exertion he had undergone, and the wine he had drunk, were quite enough to account for this. I also at last fell asleep. My eyes had been closed for about a couple of hours, when I was awakened by Ithulpo touching my shoulder. I sat up, and observed that he had the wine-skins emptied by the soldiers hanging on his arm.

“Follow me,” he whispered. “We are not going to escape; but you are thirsty, and I will show you a pure spring, where you may drink your fill, and you will be better able to endure the heat of to-morrow’s sun.”

Silently following him, as he led the way among the ruins, I found that we had reached a thick and apparently impenetrable wood. Without stopping, however, he went direct to a spot where the branches yielded easily to his hand. A winding path appeared before us, proceeding along which, we arrived in an open forest glade. On one side rose a high rock, which seemed part of a range of cliffs forming the side of a mountain. The murmuring sound of water met my ear, and by the faint starlight I discovered a stream gushing forth from the rock, and finding its way in a narrow rivulet through the glade.