In front of the hut stood a man whose figure I thought I knew. An exclamation of surprise escaped my lips. He turned his head at the sound of my voice, and I recognised, to my joy, the chief Manco. He knelt down by my side.
“Ah! my young friend, I rejoice to hear you speak once again,” he said. “My wife and I have watched over you anxiously, for we thought with sorrow that you would never recover.”
I did not before know that Manco had a wife. “You have been very good to me; and had it not been for her care, I must have died,” I replied. “I dare say I shall now soon get well; but can you tell me anything of my parents and my brothers and sisters? Is Ithulpo with you?”
“I can give you no tidings of them,” he replied, turning away his head. “Ithulpo has not come back to us, and I know not where he is.”
“My poor father and mother! they will think I have been killed,” I ejaculated. “It will make them grieve very much.”
“They will trust in God and hope for the best, as you must, my friend,” he observed. “But I must not let you talk, or it will bring back the fever which has been on you. Nita will watch over you, for I have matters which call me away.” As he spoke, his young wife handed me a cup filled with a cooling draught distilled from herbs, which I drank eagerly off. “That will do you good,” he remarked. “To-morrow, if you are stronger, I will answer the questions I see you are eager to put. Now, farewell!” He shook his head when he saw that I was about again to speak, and went off across the glade.
I next tried to interrogate Nita, speaking in the Quichua language, supposing she did not understand Spanish; but with a smile she signed to me not to talk.
“Sleep, stranger, sleep,” she said in a sweet musical voice in her native tongue; “it will strengthen you to undergo the toils which are in store for you. My husband has promised to tell you more to-morrow. I must quit you if you persist in talking.”
Seeing that she was determined not to answer any of the questions I longed to ask, I felt that it would be ungrateful not to do as she desired me, and I once more resigned myself to sleep.
The next day I felt better and stronger, and my wounds were healing rapidly; but Manco did not return, and Nita told me that he was engaged in mustering and arming his followers. She would, however, give me no other information. I felt very sad and solitary, notwithstanding her kindness; for, whenever I could collect my thoughts, I could not help fearing that some misfortune had befallen those I best loved on earth. Fortunately I slept or dozed away the greater part of the day, and this, I suspect, contributed to the rapidity of my recovery, aided by my good constitution and the pure air I breathed. At night Nita sent an old woman to sit by me, who was relieved by a young lad of my own age. I expected to gain some information from the latter, for he looked very intelligent; but when I spoke to him he shook his head, and I afterwards discovered that the poor fellow was deaf and dumb. There were several huts near mine, one of which I found was occupied by Nita and her husband.