The little mule was safe outside, so I mounted and hastened from the spot.
As I rode on, my spirits returned with the air and exercise, and my mind no longer dwelt on the events of the previous night; and the effects of the surumpe also began to wear off. Several rock-rabbits crossed our path, two of which Manco shot; and when we came to a height which sheltered us from the wind, we halted for breakfast. Having tethered the mule, we set to work to collect the dry grass and the stems of creepers growing from the clefts of the rocks for fuel. Manco had with him the means of striking a light, and a fire was soon kindled, over which we cooked the rabbits and boiled some cocoa in a tin pannikin, by the aid of which, with some Indian corn bread, we made a very fair meal. In an hour more we reached the edge of the Alto, or high plain, over which we had been travelling. Before us lay, deep and deeper, the dark valleys of the lower mountain regions, among which, scarcely discernible, were scattered numerous Indian villages. Far beyond a more level country stretched out, till it was lost in the distant line of the horizon. For several hours we descended, till we began to experience a very great change of temperature. We rested that night at a village inhabited entirely by Indians. It was situated among such inaccessible rocks that they had no fear of being surprised by the Spaniards. To my great grief, Manco told me that he must quit me by dawn on the morrow. I of course could not be so selfish as to wish to detain him.
“I have been, fortunately, able to find a trustworthy guide for you,” he said. “He is a lad a year or so younger than you are, but very quick and intelligent. He is of a white complexion, though he has an Indian heart, for he has been among us from his childhood. When an infant he was discovered by some of our people in a wood near a Spanish village, and was brought hither by them. Their idea is, that either he had been deserted by his mother, or that his parents had been murdered by robbers, who, for some reason or other, saved his life. He is called Pedro. He speaks Spanish well; and should you fall among the Spaniards, he will be supposed to belong to their people. Should you discover your parents, of which I have no hopes, give him his liberty, and he will return to us; and if you abandon the attempt, he will lead you back to us. But I will bring him to you, and he will speak for himself.”
On this Manco left the hut where we were lodging, and soon returned, accompanied by a youth, whose clear complexion and full black eyes showed that he was descended from the race who had conquered Peru.
“Are you willing to accompany me, Pedro?” I asked in Spanish. “You will probably have many dangers to encounter.”
He looked at me attentively for some time, as if examining my countenance to judge if he could trust me, before he answered.
“Yes,” he at length said. “I will aid you gladly in the work you are about. I care not for dangers. God will protect me, as He has before done.”
I was much struck with his words and manner, and gladly accepted his services.
“But I have no means of rewarding you, Pedro,” I remarked. “Some day I may have, but the time is probably far distant.”
“A good action is its own reward,” he answered, in an unaffected tone. “I require no reward. My chief and benefactor wishes me to go; and I desire to obey him.”