Les fils de la tortue. English

by Gustave Aimard

  CHAPTER XII.

  A HUMAN SACRIFICE.

  When the first moment of effervescence was over, and tranquillity wasbeginning to be restored, Diego made a sign that he wished to speak,and all were silent.

  "I thank," he said, "the chiefs of the Twelve Nations for the honourwhich they do me, and I accept, because I believe myself worthy ofit: but the war we are about to undertake is decisive, and must onlyterminate with the utter extermination of our enemies. We shall haveterrible contests to endure and extraordinary difficulties to overcome.Now, one man, whatever his genius may be, and however great hisknowledge, cannot satisfy such claims."

  "My son speaks like a sage; let him tell us what to do, and we willapprove it," Huachacuyac answered.

  "We must continue," Diego went on, "in the track which has beenfollowed up to this day; a man must remain among the Spaniards, asin the past, in order to know the secret of their operations. Let meremain this man, and I will transmit to the chiefs whom you selectto take my place the orders they will have to carry out, and theinformation which I may think useful for them, up to the time when Iresume the command of the great army."

  Universal assent was testified by the great assembly, and Diegocontinued--

  "Perhaps I shall return among you soon, if circumstances decree it, butI propose for the present to attach to myself three chiefs renowned fortheir wisdom."

  "Speak," the Indians replied, "for you are our sole master."

  "In that case appoint as my assistants our venerable Sayotkatta,Vitzetpulzli, and Huachacuyac, if the choice suit my brothers."

  "Matai," said the Indians, "Tahi-Mari is a great chief."

  Then Diego turned to Leon and invited him to rise, and the latterobeyed, without knowing what his friend wanted of him. Diego, or ratherTahi-Mari, laid his hand on the young man's head and addressed theIndians, who gazed at him curiously.

  "Chiefs," he said, "I have still one request to make to you; this ismy brother; he has saved my life and his heart belongs to me. He is aFrenchman, and his nation has frequently fought against our enemies. Iask that he may be regarded as a son of the Twelve Molucho Nations, andbeloved by you as I love him."

  The chiefs bowed to Leon, whose heart beat violently: then Huachacuyactaking him by the hand, said to him in a voice full of gentleness andgravity, after kissing him on both cheeks:

  "My brother, thou art no longer a stranger among us. I adopt thee as myson."

  Then, addressing the Indians:

  "Molucho warriors! let this man be for ever sacred to you, for he isthe son of the Twelve Nations."

  And taking off the gold necklace he wore, he threw it over the youngman's shoulders, adding:

  "Here is my turbo, do you consent to receive the adoption of theMoluchos and march with them?"

  "I do, brother," Leon answered, with some emotion.

  "Be it so, then, and may Guatechu protect thee!" Then each of theIndians came to kiss the young man on the face, make him the presentof adoption, and change with him a portion of their weapons. Diegofollowed with interest the details of this scene, which profoundlyaffected Leon, who was sensible of the new mark of friendship which thehalf-breed gave him: and when his turn came to give him the embrace, atear of joy sparkled in his black eye. This ceremony terminated, theSayotkatta advanced into the centre of the assembly.

  "Ikarri is in the middle of his course," he exclaimed, "the piaiesare waiting; let us make the war sacrifice in order to keep the evilspirits at bay and appease them, so that Guatechu may grant us thevictory."

  All the Indians present seemed to be anxiously awaiting these words:hence, so soon as they were pronounced they hastened from the hut, andproceeded to a much larger spot, in the centre of which was a pedestal,a colossal statue of the sun, called in Indian Areskoui, and which wassupported by a tortoise.

  In front of this statue was a sort of stone table sustained by fourblocks of rock. The table, slightly hollowed in the centre, wasprovided with a trough intended for the blood to flow into; and afew paces from it was a figure, formed of resinous wood. Six piaiessurrounded the table: they were dressed in long white robes, andall wore a golden fillet resembling the one which surrounded theSayotkatta's head, but of smaller dimensions. The hut was also guardedby forty armed Indians, who preserved a religious silence. During theshort walk from the council hut to the one we have just described,Diego took aside Leon, and said as he pressed his hand fiercely:

  "Brother, in the name of all that you hold dearest in the world, shutup in your heart any trace of emotion: I should have liked to spare youthe horrible spectacle you are about to witness, but it was impossible:not a word, not a gesture of disapprobation, or you will destroy usboth."

  "What is going to happen?" Leon asked, in terror.

  "Something frightful, brother; but take courage, remain by my side, andwhatever may happen, be calm."

  "I will try," said Leon.

  "You must," Diego repeated; "swear to me to check your emotion."

  "I swear it," the smuggler repeated, more and more surprised.

  "It is well: now we can enter;" and both went into the hut and mingledwith the crowd of spectators. One of those awful dramas which seemimpossible in the nineteenth century, and which unfortunately are stillin vogue in remote regions, was about to begin. The Sayotkatta, withhis head bowed on his chest, was standing at the base of the Statue ofthe sun, with six piaies on the right, and six on the left. Two youngIndians held a torch, whose red and flickering glare cast light andshadow with sinister reflections. The Sayotkatta at length spoke:

  "The hatchet is dug up, the toqui has just been proclaimed, and thehour has arrived to stain the hatchet. Ikarri demands blood."

  "Let us give blood to Ikarri," the Indians shouted, "so that he maygive us victory."

  The Sayotkatta made a sign, and two piaies left the hut; then allpresent fell on their knees, and began a chorus to a slow andmonotonous rhythm. A moment after the piaies returned, bringing a manbetween them. The Indians rose, and there was a deep silence, duringwhich every man waited with feverish impatience.

  The individual whom the piaies brought into the hut wore the uniform ofthe Chilian lanceros. He was a young man of twenty-four or twenty-sixyears of age, with an open face and elegant and bold features. Allabout him revealed the mocking carelessness peculiar to soldiers ofevery country.

  "Asses!" he said, laughing at his guardians, who pushed him on beforethem, "could you not wait till tomorrow to perform all your mummeries?Caray! I was so sound asleep! the devil take you!"

  The piaies contented themselves with shaking him rather roughly.

  "Miserable bandits," he added, "if I had my sabre, I would show youcertain cuts which would make you sink six feet into the ground. Butall right; what I cannot do, my comrades will do, and you will losenothing by waiting."

  "The papagay is a chattering bird, that speaks without knowing what itsays," a piaie interrupted in a hollow voice: "the eagle of the Andesis dumb in the hour of danger."

  "In truth," the lancero continued, with a laugh, "this old rogue isright; let us show these Indian brutes how a Spanish hidalgo dies.Hum!" he added, taking a curious look around him, "these fellows arevery ugly, and I should almost thank them for killing me, for theywill do me a real service by freeing me from their villainous society."

  After this last sally, the soldier haughtily raised his head andremained silent and calm in the presence of the danger which he hadbefore his eyes. Leon had not lost one of the words uttered by theyoung man; and he felt moved with compassion, and thinking of thesorrowful fate which was reserved for the hapless prisoner. Leaningagainst one of the walls of the hut, he admired with a sort ofirresistible fascination the bright glance of the soldier, so haughtyand careless, and asked himself with tears to what punishment he wasgoing to be condemned.

  He had not long to wait; the Sayotkatta gave a signal, and two piaiesbegan stripping off the lancero's uniform; after which they removed hisshirt, and only left him his trousers. The youn
g man did not attempt tomake any resistance, and the muscles of his face remained motionless;but when one of his assassins tried to remove the scapulary, which,like all Spaniards, he wore round his neck suspended from a blackribbon, he frowned, his eyes sparkled, and he cried in so terrible avoice that the Indian recoiled in terror--

  "Brigand! leave me my scapulary!"

  The Indian hesitated for a moment, and then returned to his victim.

  "Nonsense, no weakness!" the prisoner added, and held his tongue.

  The Indian seized the string, and without taking the trouble to removeit from his neck, pulled so violently that a red mark was produced onthe soldier's skin. Suddenly a sudden pallor discoloured the prisoner'scheeks; the Sayotkatta advanced upon him, holding up in his hand along-bladed, thin, and sharp knife. Then came a moment of indescribableagony for Leon, who felt his hair bathed in a cold perspiration, whilehis temples were contracted by pain. He saw the man with the knifeattentively seeking on the victim's chest the position of the heart,and a smile of satisfaction passed over his lips when he had found it;then pressing very lightly the sharp point of the knife on the flesh,he drove it inch by inch, and as slowly as was possible, into thesoldier's chest.

  The latter kept his enormously dilated eyes fixed on those of theSayotkatta, all whose movements he watched; ere long the pallor thatcovered his features became now livid, his lips blanched, and he threwhimself back, stammering--

  "Santa Maria, ora pro nobis!"

  The Sayotkatta was pressing the hilt of the knife against the body, andthe Indians struck up a mournful hymn. The knife was drawn out--a jetof blood came from the wound--a convulsion agitated the body, which thepiaies supported in their arms, and all was over. The lancero was dead!

  Leon bit his poncho to prevent his crying out. A hundred times had thecaptain of the smugglers' band braved death in his encounters with thecustom's officers and lanceros, and his arm had never failed him whenhe was obliged to cleave a man's head with a sabre cut, or level himby the help of his rifle, but at the sight of the cowardly and cruelassassination being performed he stood as if petrified by disgust andhorror. He gave a start when the lancero drew his last breath; butDiego, who was watching him, went up to him.

  "Silence! or you are a dead man," he said.

  Leon restrained himself, but he had not reached the end of hisamazement yet. The piaies raised the corpse, laid it on the stonetable, after removing the rest of the clothes, and the Sayotkattapronounced a few mysterious words, to which the Indians replied bychanting.

  Then the latter, taking his knife up again, cut the victim's chest downthe whole length, and examined with scrupulous attention the liver,heart, and lungs, which he pulled out to lay on the prepared pyre. Allat once he turned round and addressed the spectators with an inspiredaccent--

  "Sons of Chemiin, Guatechu protects you. Everything is favourable, andour cruel enemies will at length fall under our blows."

  Then one of the piaies collected in a vessel the blood which drippedfrom the table, and carefully placed it outside. It was not enough tohave mutilated the corpse. This horrible butchery was succeeded by anoperation which completely froze Leon's blood, and he could hardlyrestrain the feeling of repulsion which the hideous spectacle arousedin him.

  One of the Indians brandished a cutlass with a gesture of furious joyover the cold head of the assassinated lancero; and while with theleft hand he seized the pendant hair, with the other adroitly scalpedhim. The sight of this despoiled head produced a lively movement ofsatisfaction among all the spectators, who resumed their chanting.

  At length the other four piaies seized the bleeding body, and carriedit, quivering as it was, to the centre of the camp, followed by all theother Indians, who sang, accompanying themselves with furious gesturesand yells. As we stated, it was in the middle of the nineteenthcentury that this scene--which our readers might be inclined to fancyborrowed from the history of barbarous times, but of which we were aneye-witness--occurred.

  On the command of the Sayotkatta, the piaies stopped near a youngtree, which he stripped of its branches by the help of an axe. All theIndians halted, and formed a sort of thick hedge several rows in depth.Chanting sacred prayers, the piaies deposited the corpse at the foot ofthe tree, from which they stripped the bark. Then the Indians who heldthe vessel of human blood poured it over the stem, after which the onewho had scalped the lancero attached the scalp to it.

  The strange songs recommenced with fresh energy, and ere long thepiaies, bringing piece by piece the wood employed to construct the pyrein the hut of sacrifice, built it up again at the foot of the tree, andlaid the corpse upon it, carefully placing near it the heart, liver,and lungs. When all these preparations were ended, the Indians formed acircle round the tree, and the Sayotkatta ascended the pyre.

  The scene then assumed a character at once savage, majestic, andimposing. In fact, it was something striking to see on this magnificentnight, by the light of the torches which illumined with fantasticflashes the dark foliage of the trees, all these Indians, with theirharsh and stern faces, arrayed round a pyre on which stood an old mandressed in a long white robe, who with inspired eye and superb gesturescontemptuously trampled underfoot a blood-stained corpse.

  The Sayotkatta took a scrutinizing glance around him, and then said ina loud and solemn voice--

  "The victim is immolated, and Ikarri is satisfied. Guatechu protectsus. The victory will be faithful to the right, and our enemies willfall never to rise again. Sons of the Tortoise, this is the war stake!"he continued, as he pointed to the tree; "It is for me to strike thefirst blow in the name of Guatechu and Ikarri."

  And, raising the axe, which he held in his right hand, the old mandealt the tree a blow, and descended. This was the signal for afrenzied assault; each Indian, drunk with fury, advanced with horribleyells to the tree, which he struck, and each blow that re-echoed seemedto arouse such ardour among those who were waiting their turn, thatthey soon all rushed with deafening noise upon the tree, which couldnot endure such an attack for any length of time. Long after it hadfallen, furious men were assailing a few inches of the trunk whichstood out of the ground.

  The kindling of the pyre by the Sayotkatta by means of a torch couldalone interrupt these attacks on the tree, which they treated as ifthey were dealing with a real enemy. A few minutes later, the flameswhirled up, the snapping of wood and the cracking of bones which werebeing calcined in the midst of the fire became audible. A dense smokeescaped from the furnace, and driven by the wind, suffocated the birdssleeping in the aspens and larch trees that surrounded the clearing.

  It was the finale of the festival, and, like most Indian festivals, wasaccompanied by a dance, if such a name can be given to the mad roundwhich the Indians performed. Taking each other by the hand, withoutdistinction of rank or dignity, they began whirling round the pyre,forcing Leon, who did not dare decline, to share in this horror.

  Ere long, overexcited by the sound of the Molucho war song, which theystruck up in chorus, they went round so hurriedly and quickly, thatat the end of ten minutes it would have been impossible for any humanbeing to distinguish a single ring of the chain, which seemed to bemoved by a spring. Imagine an immense wheel turning on its axle withthe speed of a railway carriage wheel, and you will have an idea ofthe exercise which the bravest and most brilliant warriors of thetwelve Molucho tribes indulged in with gaiety of heart.

  They did not stop till the pyre had become a pile of ashes. Carefullycollecting these ashes the piaies went with great pomp to throw theminto a torrent which leaped no great distance from the camp. A portionof the Indians, that is to say, those among them still able to usetheir limbs, accompanied them with a new dance and fresh songs. As forLeon, utterly exhausted, he had fallen almost in a fainting state neara hut.

  "Come, brother," Diego said to him, as he helped him to rise, andpointed to the dawn which was beginning to whiten the horizon, "let usdepart; it is late, and we must be back in camp before daylight."

  "Let u
s go--let us go," said Leon, "for my head is turning. The smellof blood chokes me, and the atmosphere here is poisoned."

  Diego looked at him without replying; then, after exchanging a fewwords with the great chief Huachacuyac and the Sayotkatta, he took thearm of the smuggler captain, and went with him toward the camp wherethe Soto-Mayor family were resting.