The Forest Exiles: The Perils of a Peruvian Family in the Wilds of the Amazon, Page 2

  CHAPTER TWO.

  THE REFUGEES.

  Upon a bright and lovely evening, many years ago, a party of travellersmight have been seen climbing up that Cordillera of the Andes that liesto the eastward of the ancient city of Cuzco. It was a small andsomewhat singular party of travellers; in fact, a travelling family,--father, mother, children, and one attendant. We shall say a word ofeach of them separately.

  The chief of the party was a tall and handsome man, of nearly fortyyears of age. His countenance bespoke him of Spanish race, and so hewas. He was not a Spaniard, however, but a Spanish-American, or"Creole," for so Spaniards born in America are called to distinguishthem from the natives of Old Spain.

  Remember--Creoles are _not_ people with negro or African blood in theirveins. There is a misconception on this head in England, and elsewhere.The African races of America are either negroes, mulattoes, quadroons,quinteroons, or mestizoes; but the "Creoles" are of European blood,though born in America. Remember this. Don Pablo Romero--for that wasthe name of our traveller--was a Creole, a native of Cuzco, which, asyou know, was the ancient capital of the Incas of Peru.

  Don Pablo, as already stated, was nearly forty years of age. Perhaps helooked older. His life had not been spent in idleness. Much study,combined with a good deal of suffering and care, had made many of thoselines that rob the face of its youthful appearance. Still, although hislook was serious, and just then sad, his eye was occasionally seen tobrighten, and his light elastic step showed that he was full of vigourand manhood. He had a moustache, very full and black, but his whiskerswere clean shaven, and his hair cut short, after the fashion of mostpeople in Spanish America. He wore velvet pantaloons, trimmed at thebottoms with black stamped leather, and upon his feet were strong bootsof a reddish yellow colour--that is, the natural colour of the tannedhide before it has been stained. A dark jacket, closely buttoned,covered the upper part of his body, and a scarlet silk sash encircledhis waist, the long fringed ends hanging down over the left hip. Inthis sash were stuck a Spanish knife and a pair of pistols, richlyornamented with silver mountings. But all these things were concealedfrom the view by a capacious poncho, which is a garment that in SouthAmerica serves as a cloak by day and a blanket by night. It is nearlyof the size and shape of an ordinary blanket, with a slit in the centre,through which the head is passed, leaving the ends to hang down.Instead of being of uniform colour, several bright colours are usuallywoven into the poncho, forming a variety of patterns. In Mexico a verysimilar garment--the scrape--is almost universally worn. The poncho ofDon Pablo was a costly one, woven by hand, and out of the finest wool ofthe vicuna, for that is the native country of this useful and curiousanimal. Such a poncho would cost 20 pounds, and would not only keep outcold, but would turn rain like a "macintosh." Don Pablo's hat was alsocurious and costly. It was one of those known as "Panama," or"Guayaquil,"--hats so called because they are manufactured by Indiantribes who dwell upon the Pacific coast, and are made out of a raresea-grass, which is found near the above-mentioned places. A goodGuayaquil hat will cost 20 pounds; and although, with its broad curlingbrim and low crown, it looks not much better than Leghorn or even finestraw, yet it is far superior to either, both as a protection againstrain, or, what is of more importance in southern countries, against ahot tropical sun. The best of them will wear half a lifetime. DonPablo's "sombrero" was one of the very best and costliest; and this,combined with the style of his other habiliments, betokened that thewearer was one of the "ricos," or higher class of his country.

  The costume of his wife, who was a dark and very beautiful Spanishwoman, would have strengthened this idea. She wore a dress of blacksilk with velvet bodice and sleeves, tastefully embroidered. A mantillaof dark cloth covered her shoulders, and on her head was a lowbroad-brimmed hat, similar to those usually worn by men, for a bonnet isa thing unknown to the ladies of Spanish America. A single glance atthe Dona Isidora would have satisfied any one that she was a lady ofrank and refinement.

  There were two children, upon which, from time to time, she gazedtenderly. They were her only ones. They were a boy and girl, nearly ofequal size and age. The boy was the elder, perhaps thirteen or more, ahandsome lad, with swarth face, coal-black eyes, and curly full-flowingdark hair. The girl, too, who would be about twelve, was dark--that isto say, brunette in complexion. Her eyes were large, round, and dreamy,with long lashes that kept the sun from shining into them, and thusdeepened their expression.

  Perhaps there are no children in the world so beautiful as those of theSpanish race. There is a smoothness of skin, a richness in colour, anda noble "hidalgo" expression in their round black eyes that is rare inother countries. Spanish women retain this expression to a good age.The men lose it earlier, because, as I believe, they are oftener ofcorrupted morals and habits; and these, long exercised, certainly stamptheir lines upon the face. Those which are mean, and low, and vicious,produce a similar character of countenance, while those which are high,and holy, and virtuous, give it an aspect of beauty and nobility.

  Of all beautiful Spanish children none could have been more beautifulthan our two little Creole Spaniards, Leon and Leona--for such were thenames of the brother and sister.

  There yet remains one to be described, ere we complete the account ofour travelling party. This one was a grown and tall man, quite as tallas Don Pablo himself, but thinner and more angular in his outlines. Hiscoppery colour, his long straight black hair, his dark and wild piercingeye, with his somewhat odd attire, told you at once he was of adifferent race from any of the others. He was an Indian--a SouthAmerican Indian; and although a descendant from the noble race of thePeruvian Incas, he was acting in the capacity of a servant or attendantto Don Pablo and his family. There was a familiarity, however, betweenthe old Indian--for he was an old man--and Don Pablo, that bespoke theexistence of some tie of a stronger nature than that which existsbetween master and servant. And such there was in reality. This Indianhad been one of the patriots who had rallied around Tupac Amaru in hisrevolution against the Spaniards. He had been proscribed, captured, andsentenced to death. He would have been executed, but for theinterference of Don Pablo, who had saved his life. Since then Guapo--such was the Indian's name--had remained not only the retainer, but thefirm and faithful friend, of his benefactor.

  Guapo's feet were sandalled. His legs were naked up to the knees,showing many an old scar received from the cactus plants and the thornybushes of acacia, so common in the mountain-valleys of Peru. Atunic-like skirt of woollen cloth,--that home-made sort called"bayeta,"--was fastened around his waist, and reached down to the knees;but the upper part of his body was quite bare, and you could see thenaked breast and arms, corded with strong muscles, and covered with askin of a dark copper colour. The upper part of his body was naked onlywhen the sun was hot. At other times Guapo wore a species of poncholike his master, but that of the Indian was of common stuff--woven outof the coarse wool of the llama. His head was bare.

  Guapo's features were thin, sharp, and intelligent. His eye was keenand piercing; and the gait of the old man, as he strode along the rockypath, told that it would be many years before he would show any signs offeebleness or tottering.

  There were four animals that carried our travellers and their effects.One was a horse ridden by the boy Leon. The second was a saddle mule,on which rode Dona Isidora and Leona. The other two animals were notmounted. They were beasts of burden, with "yerguas," or pack-saddles,upon which were carried the few articles that belonged to thetravellers. They, were the camels of Peru--the far-famed llamas. DonPablo, with his faithful retainer, travelled afoot.

  You will wonder that one apparently so rich, and on so distant ajourney, was not provided with animals enough to carry his whole party.Another horse at least, or a mule, might have been expected in thecavalcade. It would not have been strange had Guapo only walked--as hewas the arriero, or driver, of the llamas--but to see Don Pablo afootand evidently tired, with neither horse no
r mule to ride upon, wassomething that required explanation. There was another fact thatrequired explanation. The countenance of Don Pablo wore an anxiousexpression, as if some danger impended; so did that of the lady, and thechildren were silent, with their little hearts full of fear. They knewnot _what_ danger, but they knew that their father and mother were introuble. The Indian, too, had a serious look; and at each angle of themountain road he and Don Pablo would turn around, and with anxious eyesgaze back in the direction that led towards Cuzco. As yet they coulddistinguish the spires of the distant city, and the Catholic crosses, asthey glistened under the evening sunbeam. Why did they look back withfear and distrust? Why? _Because Don Pablo was in flight, and fearedpursuers_! What? Had he committed some great crime? No. On thecontrary, he was the _victim of a noble virtue_--the virtue ofpatriotism! For that had he been condemned, and was now in flight--flying to save not only his liberty but his life! yes, _his life_; forhad the sentinels on those distant towers but recognised him, he wouldsoon have been followed and dragged back to an ignominious death.

  Young reader, I am writing of things that occurred near the beginning ofthe present century, and before the Spanish-American colonies becamefree from the rule of Old Spain. You will remember that these countrieswere then governed by viceroys, who represented the King of Spain, butwho in reality were quite as absolute as that monarch himself. Thegreat viceroys of Mexico and Peru held court in grand state, and livedin the midst of barbaric pomp and luxury. The power of life and deathwas in their hands, and in many instances they used it in the mostunjust and arbitrary manner. They were themselves, of course, nativesof Old Spain--often the pampered favourites of that corrupt court. Allthe officials by which they were surrounded and served were, likethemselves, natives of Spain, or "Gachupinos," (as the Creoles used tocall them,) while the Creoles--no matter how rich, or learned, oraccomplished in any way--were excluded from every office of honour andprofit. They were treated by the Gachupinos with contempt and insult.Hence for long long years before the great revolutions of SpanishAmerica, a strong feeling of dislike existed between Creole Spaniardsand Spaniards of Old Spain; and this feeling was quite independent ofthat which either had towards the Indians--the aborigines of America.This feeling brought about the revolution, which broke out in all thecountries of Spanish America (including Mexico) about the year 1810, andwhich, after fifteen years of cruel and sanguinary fighting, led to theindependence of these countries.

  Some people will tell you that they gained nothing by this independence,as since that time so much war and anarchy have marked their history.There is scarcely any subject upon which mankind thinks moresuperficially, and judges more wrongly, than upon this very one. It isa mistake to suppose that a people enjoys either peace or prosperity,simply because it is quiet. There is quiet in Russia, but to itsmillions of serfs war continuous and eternal; and the same may be saidof many other countries as well as Russia. To the poor slave, or evento the over-taxed subject, peace is no peace, but a constant andsystematised struggle, often more pernicious in its effects than eventhe anarchy of open war. A war of this kind numbers its slain bymillions, for the victims of famine are victims of _political crime_ onthe part of a nation's rulers. I have no time now to talk of thesethings. Perhaps, boy reader, you and I may meet on this ground again,and at no very distant period.

  Well, it was not in the general rising of 1810 that Don Pablo had beencompromised, but previous to that. The influence of the EuropeanRevolution of 1798 was felt even in distant Spanish America, and severalebullitions occurred in different parts of that country at the sametime. They were premature; they were crushed. Those who had taken partin them were hunted to the death. Death! death! was the war-cry of theSpanish hirelings, and bitterly did they execute their vengeance on allwho were compromised. Don Pablo would have been a victim among others,had he not had timely warning and escaped; but as it was, all hisproperty was taken by confiscation, and became the plunder of therapacious tyrant.

  We are introduced to him just at the period of his escape. By the aidof the faithful Guapo he had hastily collected a few things, and withhis wife and family fled in the night. Hence the incompleteness of histravelling equipage. He had taken one of the most unfrequented paths--amere bridle-road--that led from Cuzco eastward over the Cordillera. Hisintent was to gain the eastern slope of the Andes mountains, where hemight conceal himself for a time in the uninhabited woods of the Great_Montana_, and towards this point was he journeying. By a _ruse_ he hadsucceeded in putting the soldiers of the despot on a false track; but itwas not certain that they might not yet fall into the true one. Nowonder then, when he gazed back towards Cuzco, that his look was one ofapprehension and anxiety.