CHAPTER VIII.
Continuation of Almagro's Story. The Dwellings and Habits of the Araucanians. The Death of the Toqui, and the Flight of Almagro and Carielpa. The Burning Mountain. Escape to the Mountains, and the Birth of Zara. The Fatal Visit of the Indians, and Death of Carielpa. The Wanderings of Almagro. Conclusion of his Story. Plan of Crossing the Andes. The Earthquake and its Consequences. Jack's Expedition to survey the Ruins.

"WILL you tell, Almagro," asked Matilda, in tolerable good Spanish, "what kind of houses the Araucanians inhabit, and what is their food?"

"Our dwelling," answered Almagro. "which was the best of the scattered village, was built of mud, and thatched. It was of great extent, and had two entrances in the front, which admitted light and air; two openings at the back led to the kitchen, a detached building. One side of the apartment consisted of sleeping places, separated by divisions made of cane, and having bed-places raised some height from | | 87 the floor. On the opposite side the floor was raised to form seats. Carpets, rugs, and low tables completed the furniture of the dwelling.

"In the kitchen were the fire-hearths, earthen pans and pots, and baskets. For the table they have gourds separated for bowls and dishes, and large muscle-shells, brought from the coast, for spoons."

"How I wish we could find some gourds," cried Mary. "How delightful it would be to make bowls and bottles, as they did in the Swiss Robinson Crusoe."

"We have certainly not yet reached the latitude where the gourd is found," observed Tom. "The order Cucurbitaceæis rarely met with beyond the tropics."

"Pray don't be so pedantic, Tom," said Jack; "and do, dear Almagro, continue your story."

"I must tell the young lady," continued Almagro, "that we had excellent food, for the Toqui was a rich man. We had milk and bruised corn, potatoes and pompions, food quite new to me. We had Charqui, and even poultry, which were domesticated, fed on grains, and when fattened, were killed and eaten! Many a tear did Carielpa, the little daughter of the Tequi, and I shed when some favorite fowl was slaughtered by the women, and she would have famished rather than fed on that food, for she had a tender and loving heart.

"The mother of Carielpa was dead; she had been a Creole, and the pure blood of Spain predominated in the mingled current which filled the veins of the child. The Creole mother had lived long enough to teach her daughter to compassionate the Christians, whom the people hated; and to believe in the Christians' God.

"The beauty of Carielpa realized to me my dreams of angels; I could not believe that mortal women were so lovely. Moreover, she was kind to me, and in return I assisted her in the labors which the custom of the Araucanians inflicts on the females. When my own duties of atteading to the horses were completed, I assisted her to bring tho loads of maize and wheat from the fields, which were entirely cultivated and reaped by the women. We conveyed the sheaves to the threshing-floor, a piece of ground swept clean and enclosed with rails. We spread the corn over the earth, and a number of horees were then turned into the enclosure, and | | 88 driven round till the straw was broken into pieces and the grain fell from the ears. The broken straw was collected and carried away; the grain was then exposed to the wind, which bore away the chaff, and the valuable corn left on the floor was gathered and stowed in bags of hide.

"The lenity of Cadeguala permitted me several hours' recreation every day, and in these happy hours the gentle Carielpa was my companion. She wept with me over my tale of woe, her bright eyes sparkled with sympathy when I repeated to her my father's histories of the past; and she rejoiced that she was like me, of Spanish blood. Then we tried to remember the prayers taught to us by the mothers we had lost, but the words had faded from our memory. We feared this was sinful, but we talked of the heaven where we hoped to meet the lost, and we worshipped God with our hearts.

"As I grew older, I became strong and active; I loved the chase, and learned the art of war, but my spirit rebelled against the practice of arms, lest I should be called on to use them against my own countrymen, for I could never forget I was a Spaniard; and though I could not see Carielpa frequently now, I never forgot to remind her, when we met, that we were of kindred blood, and were bound to love each other. This bond of amity reconciled me to my life of servitude, for though I was a slave, I was no longer alone in the world,--Carielpa supplied to me the kindred I had lost. Every year increased our attachment; but it was not till the Toqui had announced to his daughter, that she was to be the wife of a neighboring chief, that we felt the extent of our love, and the impossibility of our separation.

"It was Carielpa herself, who announced to me this terrible arrangement. Never shall I forget that agitated meeting under the calm moonlight The whole scene rises now before me. I see the beautiful girl standing trembling under the algarob-tree, the thorny branches of which were then weghed down with the large yellow pods of fruit. I see her in the loveliness of that eventful night; her turquise-colored chiamal flowing to her feet, fastened to the shoulder by a silver brooch, and round her slender waist by a sash and silver buckle. She was grace itself, and needed no ornament; but custom induced her to wear the largo silver ear-rings, the | | 89 necklace and bracelets of brilliant stones, and the jewels in her flowing tresses.

"I have heard enough, Carielpa," cried I, in frantic despair. "Leave me now forever: To-morrow I follow the Torqui in his expedition across the Cordilleras against the Tehicelhets; I will cast myself upon the lances of these barbarians, and perish on the plains. Why should I return here to see you the wife of another?"

"'Be calm, Almagro,' answered she. 'It is the wish, the command, of Carielpa, that you should return to her. The Toqui loves his daughter, and will not sacrifice her happiness. Let Almagro bow to the laws and government of Araucania. Let him become a great warrior, and the Toqui may then adopt him as his son.'

"I had no hope of such a happiness nor could even my love for Carielpa have bribed me to abjure my faith and loyalty to my country I departed in moodiness and despair on the ill fated expeditiou. Many days after I returned,--the harbinger of sorrow. We had been overpowered by the numbers of the Pampas Indians, defeated and scattered. A small number escaped by a pass of the mountains unknown to the enemy; I was one of this unwelcome party, and by my endeavors, we rescued, and brought with us, the body of our leader, pierced with many wounds.

"The grief of my Carielpa for the loss of her noble parent, was aggravated by the knowledge that the Toqui who was to succeed him, was the man to whom she had been promised, and who already insisted on his right to claim her as his wife. This claim she determined to escape and during the days of her mourning we met in secret, and arranged our flight. We had frequently heard of a missionary priest, who had been permitted to reside at a remote station at the foot of the Corodiras. and we determined to seek his abode, and ask his counsel.

"I prepared two of the fleetest horses, and in the dead or we mounted and fled unnoticed. Silently and swiftly we passed onwards for many miles, with throbbing hearts, and many an anxious glance behind us. As the morning light rose dimly, we looked upon the green hills and fertile plains we were leaving for the dark and dismal forests of the Cordilleras. But it was a flight from slavery to freedom, and | | 90 we chose it without hesitation. As I was gazing fearfully at the distant scenes we had passed my eye rested on that lofty snow-covered mountain, from which is seen to rise thick smoke and gleams of light, night and day; a mystery which the Araucanian cannot explain, but looks on, and trembles. We must have been twenty miles at least from this much dreaded spot, when suddenly a tremendous explosion, such as no mortal ear surely ever before heard, shook even the ground where we stood, riveted with horror. When we saw volumes of red flame, burst from the distant mountain, pour down its snowy sides, and shine through the dark woods below from whence they spread rapidiy over the plains below.

"'We have offended God by our flight,' hoarsely murmured Carielpa. 'His judgment is pursuing us! We are lost forever!'

"I sought to calm the agitation of my beloved, but I, too, believed the day of doom was at hand. Still, with the instinct of human weakness, we urged on our horses for many miles up the steep sides of the hills to escape that fiery torrent. Before the day closed we reached in safety the dwelling of the good priest, he welcomed us as his children, calmed our fears, explained to us the wonders of that volcanic eruption which he had also contemplated, with interest; finally, he united us in the sacred bonds of marriage. He advised us to seek the concealment of some lone valley in the mountains till pursuit should be over; then we might descend to the Pampas and commence the Guacho life, which I had so often described to my Carielpa.

"Through the means of the good father, we obtained such necessaries as we might require; we exchanged horses for mules, as better fitted for mountaln travelling; I obtained arms and ammunition; and with light hearts we set out on our perilous journey.

"For many days we travelled, resting beneath the trees, or in the caves of the mountain. At length, tempted by the charms of a little verdant valley, which seemed to have been a solitude since the creation of the world, we chose it for our home. There I built a hut; I chased the puma and the alpaga, and with the skins of these animals lined the walls of my dwelling. I caught the vicuna, and the ingenius hands of Carielpa formed useful garments of its fur.

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"I cultivated the ground, planting the seeds obtained from the good priest; and even among the mountains we had potatoes, beans, apples, peaches, and abundance of maize for our daily food. I captured the young llamas; domesticated them, and they gave us milk to add to our wealth. We lived in plenty and in happiness; our labor was light and pleasant, for we worked for ourselves; and, blessed with each other, we desired no society.

"To complete our happiness God bestowed on us a lovely girl. It was not till then that we felt how precious our own lives were, and learned to tremble at an unusual sound that might portend danger to us and make our dwelling desolate. But years passed, and we were spared, and, our Zara sprung up in grace and beauty. She learned to climb the mountain, in order to capture the docile parrot, or the delicate hummingbird or to bring to us her little basket filled with gigantic strawberries. Sweet Zara! she was our humming-bird! the bright creature that floated among the flowers the joy of our calm existence.

"She was nine years of age, and we no longer thought of the sorrows of the past, or the dangers of the present; our thoughts were all absorbed in plans for the happy future of our darling. One day, never to be forgotten, she had climbed the mountain to watch a nest of young parots that had been her care for weeks. I was engaged in reaping my harvest, and my Carielpa was assisting me to bind and bring home the sheaves. For some time we did not notice the protracted absence of our Zara. It was the mother's heart that first caught the alarm; she left me, and with nervous agitation proceeded to call loudly on her child. None answered! she fled back to me, to beseech me to follow the dear wanderer. I smiled at her fears, but her word was my law, and I set out up the mountain side in the child's track. I pursued it beyond the spot to which she usually rambled; suddenly a cold terror assailed me, for I saw the track I was on was that of horsemen. For a moment my breath failed me; then I shrieked out the name of my child, but in vain all was still. I rushed desperately on, in the too-plainly marked track; I climed the steep heights, and at length, in a deep gorge, I caught a distant view of a large body of mounted Indians, galloping at full speed. Alas! alas! even it that great distance, | | 92 I marked amid the band of naked dark robbers, the flowing scarlet poncho of my child!

"I sprung wildly after them, but every moment rendered the distance wider between us. In a few minutes I lost sight of them, and I knew that I should see my child no more. I flung myself on the ground, and, in the bitterness of my despair, called on death. Then, starting up, I mechanically retraced my homeward steps, and, bursting into the hut, in wild and broken words declared to my Carielpa our fatal bereavement.

"May God forgive me for the deed, for I was mad; but he has visited me for the sin. My tender wife looked wildly on me, and fell at my feet, bathed in the blood which flowed from her mouth. Then I saw that my rashness had murdered her; and, in remorse and agony, I raised her and applied those herbal styptics that Nature has provided far our weakness; she partially revived; and I prayed her to live for my sake, to save me from the bitter reflection that I had been her murderer. I even tried with a sinking heart, to offer her hopes; but she shook her head, though she was unable to speak.

"For days and weeks I watched over her, and in my painful anxiety I sometimes even forgot my first great sorrow. But God had ordained me heavier trials still. She, who was all that was left me in life, faded and died in my arms. I could not weep; I hung over her for hours, scarcely more alive than herself. At length I roused myself. I shrouded her fair form in the bright garments of her maidenhood; I due her grave amid the flowers she loved, and marked the spot with a rocky slab, on which I carved her name.

"Then I fled from that desolated Eden: I loaded the mules and llamas with my few effects, and wandered from spot to spot amid the mountains, ever searching in vain for my lost child. I have crossed the lofty heights and descended to the Pampas. I have been chased by the savage tribes of the mountain and the plain, and have escaped by miracle.

"Years elapsed, when, wearied and hopeless, at length I reared a hut in this lone valley, far distant from my first sweet home: the grave of my peace. Here I have moodily fulfilled the necessary duty of provding for my subsistence; but with my hopes my affections were chilled. I could not love even the gentle llama that gave me food, or the familiar | | 93 birds that built their nests beneath my roof. Existence was a cheerless and melancholy duty and when your humanity prompted you to save my miserable life, my first feeling was regret that you had not left me to perish."

"Do you still continue to regret it, unfortunate and presumptuous man?" asked Mr. Merton.

"I do not, reverend man," replied Almagro. "Your mild counsels and holy persuasions have led me to believe that God has spared me for some special purpose. I am content to live that I may fulfil the duties required of me. Tell me, then, what I ought to do?"

Mr. Merton was an able theorist; but he looked towards Dr. Lewis, on whose practical wisdom he greatly relied, to answer the demand of the stranger.

"I think, Almagro," said Lewis, "that Mr. Merton will agree with me in recommending you to attempt a more useful course of life. You certainly cannot return into Araucania in safety; but you are active, you have the means of removing yourself from this solitary spot, and it is your duty to do so. God has created man to help his fellow-creatores. You can surely make your way to some region of usefulness, as we are endeavoring to do."

"I have accidentally discovered a pass across the Andes," replied Almagro. "It is probably yet unknown to any one else. It is full of dificulties, and at a considerable distance from this spot; but I can guide you to it. Yet even should we reach in safety the foot of the mountains, vast solitudes and manifold dangers would still lie between us and the abodes of civilized man. Before us would stretch the dreary pathless Pampas, haunted by the destroying Indian, and by the demon of famine. Can God lead us through that wilderness?"

"Man of little faith!" said Mr. Merton. "That God whose protecting hand miraculously conducts and preserves us day by day, can make for us a pleasant path through the wilderness and bring us to a haven of peace and rest, if we trust in Him."

"And now I know, papa," said Jack, "that it was God's providence that sent me into the thicket after the guanaco, that I might help poor Almagro when he got that terrible | | 94 fall. What a fortunate thing it was, for if he goes with us, we shall be such a happy party."

"I fear my gloomy presence will not add to the happiness of the party," said Almagro; "but I am summoned from my solitude, and am content to obey."

After this arrangement was agreed on, the family consented to remain some days at the hut, till Almagro should be sufficiently recovered to travel. But none were idle: the little girls, under the diretion of Nanny, attended to the llamas, milked them, and even tried, by the rude process of shaking the cream in an empty cask, to produce butter. It was but an imperfect success; but they were greatly delighted to set the half-coagulated result of their labor before Mrs Merton and Almagro, the two invalids of the party.

The young men hunted the vicuna, instructed by Almagro, with some success, and caught parrots in plenty. They reaped the ripe maize, thrashed it, and stored it in bags of hide. They dug up the potatoes, gathered the beans, and packed all the provisions that were not perishable, in readiness for their long journey. Two of the five horses, which they had with great difficulty brought to this spot, were still too feeble for use; the remaining three had recovered wonderfully, from rest and plentiful food; but Almagro had great doubt of their being useful in the difficult journey before them. He proposed that the two stronget annuals should be laden with part of the baggage, the remainder to be placed on the llamas, who were accustomed to carry burthens. On his own excellent mule he had great reliance, and this was to be given up to Mrs. Merton; the rest of the patty were to walk. This project could not be accomplished without great toil and fatigue, and their trepess must necessarily be very slow; but a little consideration induced them all to agree to it.

Almagro was now quite well; and the preparations were all completed. The packages were neatly tied in guanaco skins; a quantity of guanaco flesh was dried and added to their store; and on this, the last day they proposed to spend in the but, Nanny declared they should have a feast. She made some cakes of pounded maize mixed with cream, to be baked on the hearth; while Matilda and Mary set out to the wood on the mountain side, behind the hut, for a basket of ripe strawberries.

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The cakes were ready and the kettle boiled, and Nanny was beginning to be cross when the little girls entered hastily and in great trepedation. "We have brought you no strawberries, mamma," exclaimed Mary; "we were so much frightened by the sound of roaring from the rocks. I believe we must have been near the den of some wild beast."

Mrs. Merton, in great alarm, begged that nobody would leave the hut, and that some barrier might be placed before the open entrance.

"Indeed, mamma," said Matilda, "my opinion is that Mary is wholly mistaken. The noise certainly was not the cry of any animal; it was more like the moaning of wind confined within the mountains."

Charles uttered an exelammation. Dr. Lewis silenced him with a significant glance, and then turning to Mrs. Merton, he assured her that there were no dangerous animals in the valley; but to satisfy her, Charles and he would examine the spot pointed out by the young ladies. At her desire they took their guns, and stepping into the open air, both at the same moment looked at the sky it was calm and serene, and they breathed more freely.

But on reaching the rocky side of the mountain, they distinctly heard a low rumbling.

"It is the certain indication of an approaching earthquake!" cried Charles.

As he spoke they felt the ground beneath them vibrate.

"Let us return," said the doctor; " we can do nothing to help ourselves; we must pray for God to preserve us amid the dangers of these fearful mountains."

Before they reached the hut the sky was black with thick clouds and the rain began to fall violently; the llamas were trembling at the entrance of the hut, and followed the gentlemen into that shelter.

The family were all in great consternation, for they had felt the shock, and the truth could no longer be concealed. Now the earth was still, but the rain poured in torrents, penetrating the roof, extinguishing the fire, and ruining part of Nanny's festive cookery before she could rescue it. But it was of no consequence: no one had any appetite, and they enjoyed Nanny's rich cakes "no more than if they were eating the corn out of the husk," as she grumbled out.

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A few minutes after, another loud rumbling, succeeded by a more violent shock than the first, announced that the danger was increasing. The weakest were now the bravest, and Mr. and Mrs. Merton, deeply imbued with the faith which alone can strengthen in adversity, and relying with simple and earnest love on their Saviour, called on the rest to unite with them in prayers of submission to the divine will.

"Why should we not yield up our lives to Him who gave them," said Mr. Merton, "as happily in this remote wilderness as if we died on a bed of down, under a silken canopy? He ordains all wisely; let us submit in faith and hope."

While they were kneeling, listening to the prayers and pious exhortations of Mr. Merton, a terrific crash was heard. They shrieked involuntarily, for they believed the end of all things was at hand. It was truly the rending of mountains, of which huge masses came thundering down the steeps. The earth heaved violently, and they all fell prostrate. The frail hut tottered, but remained uncrushed, though the light at the entrance which was at once door and window, was shut out. They were enclosed in a mass of rocky fragments.

For some tnnutes they remained motionless, expecting instant destruction but all was still and silent. Then Mary, in a tone of awe, whispered, "Mamma, dear mamma, is this the Day of Judgment?"

Mrs. Merton burst into tears, and Mr. Merton then ventured to look fearfully round to ascertain the extent of his loss. All were safe the fragile hut stood firm amidst that "wreck of matter;" and one after another the awe-struck and humbled Christians rose from the earth to thank God for their preservation.

Comforted and resigned, they looked round, and, through an opening in the roof, saw the light, which convinced them they were not entirely buried. Through this opening the rain poured in, and it was salutary employment for them to remove their packages to a dry corner of the hut, and to place the water-cask beneath the opening, at once to prevent an inundation, and to secure the precious fluid their imprisionment prevented them from otherwise obtaining There was certainly something frightful in the rocky barrier which obstructed their escape from the hut; but their | | 97 chief terror now arose from the repeated shocks, which continued during the day at intervals of half an hour. Night brought no respite or rest; and at midnight a most extraordinary rocking of the earth was accompanied by such a deafening sound of subterranean thunder as the artillery of man's invention could never have produced.

For same hours after this violent shock no sound was heard but that of the pouring rain, and the roar of torrents rushing from the heights. Fear, long watching, and abstinence had stupefied them all so much, that it was only when the daylight glimmered faintly through the opening above that they rallied, and began to hope that the terrors of the awful visitation were passed.

At the desire of Dr. Lewis they took some food, and, revivived by the refreshment, proceeded to action. The timid crouching llamas were fed with some maize straw, which had been fortunately brought into the hut, and were then milked. The overflowing water-cask was removed, and, to exclude the rain, they were compelled to close the opening with hides, thus shutting out the light which rendered their captivity still more dismal. They made small openings in the side walls of the but, but in vain, for immoveable rocks seemed to enclose the hut on all sides. This was a melancholy prospect; but, at all events, no attempt at escape could be made during the heavy and incessant rain.

They continued as tranquil as their distressing situation permitted them to be for three days, occasionally feeling treniblings of the earth, but no more great shocks. At the end of that time the rain ceased, and they ventured to remove the covering from the roof. The air was most grateful to them, and Nanny once more lighted a fire, that they might have the refreshment of a warm breakfast.

"And now, papa," said Jack, "you must send me out through the roof and I hope I shall return with the olive-branch in my mouth."

It was not without much persuasion that the timid parents consented to an expedition which was absolutely necessary, and which Jack, light and active, was best fitted to undertake. He was enjoined to be cautious and observing, and to return speedily, and was then assisted by his friends through the opening of roof, which was widened to allow him to pass.

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They waited with considerable anxiety to hear his report of the state of things, and very soon were thrown into a state of great alarm by hearing a doleful cry from the boy, who seemed to be at some distance from the hut. The distracted parents looked at their friendly counsellor, Lewis, in dismay, their minds filled with images of danger and death.

"Charles," said Lewis, "I leave the honor of this enterprise to you. You are lighter than I am, and can scale the roof with less risk. You must take your lance with you, for it may aid your descent. But I do not apprehend any danger to the impetuous boy, my dear friends; his cry was rather that of sorrowful astonishment than of alarm."