Chapter Eleven.
Dreadful surmises—Taken prisoners by Indians.
We were passing over a somewhat level country, when Pedro pointed to a line of blackened walls and charred timbers in the distance.
“Yonder is the place you seek, Señor,” he said, in a tone of commiseration which touched my heart. “You are seeking for parents whom you have known, and their memory is dear to you. I, alas! have never known any parents to love, and my heart is vacant.”
I knew he wished to utter words of consolation, but I have no recollection of what more he said. My mind was too full of the work before me. I urged on my mule, for I felt an eager desire to search through the village; yet what information could I expect to find in those deserted ruins? As we approached, we saw a wretched half-starved dog skulking among the walls. He looked at us to see if we were friends whom he knew, and then fled away. Not a human being was to be seen. We passed through the desolate streets. Some of the walls had been cast down, and the roofs of all the houses had been burned and fallen in. The church only was standing; but the doors were open, and the interior presented a scene of horror which baffles description. Numbers of the unfortunate inhabitants had fled there as their last place of refuge, but it had proved no sanctuary to them. In every part of the building, on the steps of the altar, and by the altar itself, were seen heaped together the mangled remnants of the forms of human beings. Their dresses showed that they were those of men, women, and children; but weeks had now passed since they were slain, and their bones alone remained. The beasts and even the birds of prey had been there, or it would have been impossible to enter into that charnel-house.
Pale and trembling I wandered through it, scarcely able to draw breath from the foul air which filled the place; but no sign of those I sought could I find. At length I staggered out again into the open air, where Pedro, who was holding our mules, waited for me. I determined next to search each of the houses separately.
As we were wandering through one of them, an object met my sight which riveted my attention. It was a silk handkerchief. With a trembling hand I picked it up. It was exactly such a one as I remembered to have seen my sister Lilly wear round her neck. It was of an ordinary sort; a little three-cornered handkerchief with a pink fringe. There might be many such in the country. This might have been the property of some Spanish girl or young Chola, for there was no mark on it to distinguish it; but still, as I looked at it, I felt almost confident that it had been my sister’s. How it had escaped being burned or trampled on I could not tell. Perhaps it had been dropped near one of the outside walls, which the fire did not reach, and had been blown by the wind into the corner of the room, where I found it. Pedro was of the same opinion. I placed it carefully in my bosom, though how it could prove of use I could not tell. We searched and searched in vain through every other house in the village; but no other trace or sign which I could recognise could we find. The whole day was thus spent, and night almost surprised us while we were still in the ruins.
Near the village was a meadow, where Pedro had led our mules to feed; and we had, besides, found some Indian corn, which we had given them; so they were in good condition to proceed. But after the example of the state of the country we had seen, it was impossible to say where we could hope to find shelter for ourselves. I asked Pedro if he would object to remain in the ruins all night.