our dead. Sad enough employment, you must allow. But after this abreeze of wind sprang up, which during the night increased to a gale,blowing right on to the shore. When the darkness lifted, to our greatjoy we found our ship, or rather the pieces of her that had in a sort ofway held together, floated high and dry on the beach.
"Had we wished now to become Crusoes we should have had everyconvenience, for we not only got provisions of all kinds out of thewreck, but boxes of stores, guns, and ammunition. For the last we werevery grateful; and rough sailors though we were, we did not forget tokneel down there on the sands and thank the Giver of all good, not onlyfor having mercifully spared us from the violence of the sea, but forgiving us this earnest of future good fortune.
"The hawk scents the quarry from afar, and early next morning we werenot surprised to receive a visit from some armed Indians. They rode onhorses and on mules that seemed as fleet as they were sure-footed.These Indians were kind enough to express a wish, not over-politelyworded, to possess samples of our various stores. We gave them to eatas much as they liked; but when they attempted to pillage the wreck, wefirst and foremost smilingly and persuasively hinted our disapproval ofsuch a proceeding.
"This hint not being taken, we tried another: we levelled guns at them,and they fled.
"They came again the next day; and we made them many presents, and askedthem, in broken Spanish and a deal of sign language, to conduct ussafely over the mountains to the nearest Bolivian town or settlement.
"They were in all about twenty, and if they were half as bad in heart asthey looked, then they were indeed scoundrels of the first water. Butwe numbered seven--seven bold hearts and true, and we were well armed,and able enough to drive a bargain with these fellows to our mutualadvantage.
"We did so in this way: we were to have several horses and five mules,which should be laden with all our own especial baggage. They--theIndians--should have as much as they liked of the stores that remained.
"They appeared to consent to this willingly enough. So we made ourpacks up--taking the best of everything, of course, and whatever was ofthe greatest value.
"It was now well on in the afternoon, so we determined to start on ourjourney inland the very next morning. The Indians had still half adozen good mules left, and they at once set about making preparationsfor loading them.
"There was a deal of squabbling and wrangling over the division, andmore than once they seemed coming to blows.
"As soon as they had chosen all they could carry, we set about piling upthe rest of the wreckage in a heap, preparatory to setting fire to it.This was absolutely necessary, for if anything was left behind it wouldbe but a short convoy those Indians would give us. They would hidetheir mule packs among the mountains and hurry back for more.
"They were very much displeased, therefore, to see what we were about.
"But nothing cared we; and just as the sun dipped down into the westernocean we set fire to the immense pile.
"When darkness fell, and the flames leaped high into the air, the scenewas one worthy of the brush of a Rembrandt. The sea was lit up formiles with a ruddy glare; the sands were all aglow with the blaze; theIndians and their mules thrown out in bold relief looked picturesque inthe extreme, while we, the white men, armed to the teeth, and carefullywatching the Indians, though not in any way to give them cause foralarm, formed a by no means insignificant portion of the scene.
"We were early astir the next day, and on the road before the sun hadbegun to peep down over the eastern hills.
"We marched in single file, an old grey-bearded Indian leading the vanas our guide.
"Before many hours we had left the sandy hills along the seashore, andhad entered the mountain defiles.
"Scenery more rugged, wild, and beautiful I had seldom clapped eyesupon, either before or since. At the same time we could not helpfeeling thankful that we had obtained the guidance of these Indians,treacherous though they no doubt were, for we never could have made ourway otherwise across this range of rugged mountains, nor through thewild entanglement of forest.
"By day many a wild beast crossed our pathway, but only seldom we shotthem, and we never followed far; we were shipwrecked sailors trying tomake our way to some semi-civilised town, where we could live in somedegree of safety until we found out the lay of the land, as our matecalled it, and fell in at last with some British ship.
"These fellows, our guides, could tell us nothing, but they led us dayafter day towards the east and the north.
"We kept a strict watch over their every movement, and it was well wedid so. At night we bivouacked but a little distance from their camp,and had separate fires and separate sentries.
"Almost every evening after supper they made themselves madly drunk withthe wine they had received from us, and without which they would haverefused to guide us at all.
"After four days' wandering we arrived, during a pitiless storm ofthunder and rain, at a strange and semi-barbarian village. The housesor huts were built upon piles, and the inhabited portion of them stoodhigh above the ground; you had to ascend to this on a sort of hen'sladder.
"The street itself at the time we entered the town was more like a riverthan anything else. But we were glad enough to find shelter of anykind, drenched to the skin as we were, and wet and weary as well.
"Next day was bright and clear again, and it seemed to me that every oneof the villagers turned out to see us start. They appeared to bepeaceable enough, so we made little presents to the women, and advisedour Indian guides to do the same. They were not inclined to part withanything, however, and evidently looked upon us as fools for what wedid.
"Our march that day was across vast plains and swamps towards anothermountain-chain, more rugged and grand than any we had yet seen.
"We chatted pleasantly and sang as we rode on, for the Indians assuredus that in two days more we should arrive at a very large and populouscity, where plenty of rich white men lived, with splendid houses, broadpaved streets, hotels, and even palaces. We bivouacked that night atthe very foot of the chain of mountains, and next morning entered androde through gloomy glens and dark woods, and the farther we rode thewilder the country seemed to become. Yet some of the woodland sceneswere inexpressibly lovely. We came out at last on the brow of a hill,just as the sun was setting over the distant forest, and bathing withits golden glory a scene as lovely as it was sad and melancholy.
"A vast plain in the centre of an amphitheatre of hills, clad almost totheir summits with lofty trees, a broad river meandering through thisplain, and on both banks thereof what appeared from where we stood to bea city of palaces. Alas! on entering it we found it a city of ruins.Trees and shrubs grew where the streets had been, the gardens haddegenerated into jungles; we saw wild beasts hiding behind themouldering walls, and heard them growl as we passed; and we saw monstersnakes and lizards wriggling hither and thither, and these were the onlyinhabitants of this once large and populous town.
"Yet in the halls of its palaces the banquet had once been spread, andgaiety, mirth, and music had resounded in its streets and thoroughfares,till war came with murder and pestilence, and then all was changed. Thecity's best sons were sent to work in mines, or slain; the city'sfairest daughters marched away in chains to become the slaves of theirterrible foes.
"I could not help thinking of all this as I rode through this ruinedcity of the plain, and sighed as I did so. The words and music of thesad old song came into my mind:
"`So sinks the pride of former days When glory's thrill is o'er. And hearts that once beat high with praise Now feel that pulse no more.'
"But the sun set and night came on, and with it storm and darkness."
CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
"Here roams the wolf, the eagle whets his beak. Birds, beasts of prey, and wilder men appear."
Byron.
My friend Ben paused for a moment.
A sheet of lightning almost blinded us. It was followed instantaneouslyby one of the most ter
rific peals of thunder I have ever heard in thiscountry.
"It was in just such a storm as this," said Captain Roberts, "that wetook shelter in the ruins of an old fort. We tethered our mulesoutside, and we had not even the heart to keep the Indians from sharingour quarters. For once, and it was the last time, we ate with them,drank with them, and talked to them. How little we suspected them oftreachery!
"We found plenty of dry wood in the old fort and soon had a roaring firewith which to warm up our soup and cook our vegetables.
"`Who goes sentry to-night?' I said to the mate.
"`Well,' replied the mate, `I guess we'd better draw for it. He'll havea wet skin whoever does it.'
"It was just after dinner when this conversation took place.
"`But,' continued the mate, stretching himself before the fire, `Iexpect it will be between you and me, for, look,