HUALMA, 
THE PERUVIAN. 
THE STORY OF THE DISCOVERY OF QUININE 
BY 
W. O. von HORN. 
TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN. 
ERNST KAUFMANN, 
NEW YORK, N. Y„ 
22-24 N. WILLIAM ST. 
CHICAGO, ILLS, 
107 MADISON ST. PRINTED IN GERMANY. CHAPTER I. 
The vircy, Count Fernando Cinchon, had now been 
two years in Lima. Virey is an abbreviation of viceroy, 
and was the official title of the representative of the king 
of Spain. His treatment of the inhabitants of the city 
and of the Indians of the Cordillera de los Andes, that is 
the mighty mountain range of Peru, had been such, that 
for a long time there had been no breach of peace between 
the Indians and the Spaniards. He hoped that the friendly 
relations would not again be broken, and that the country 
for a long time to come would enjoy the benefits of peace. 
If all Spaniards had been like him, his fond hope might 
have been realized. Unfortunately however, the oppression 
and abuse of the Indians was not stopped, even under 
his mild rule, and without his knowledge, the clouds were 
beginning to gather thickly in consequence. 
It was in the year 1556 when he received word, that 
his only child, his young daughter Dolores, who had been 
educated in a convent in Spain, was on her way to join 
him. She was all he had, for his dear wife had fallen 
sick on the voyage from Palos in Spain to Lima, and 
had died in Callao shortly after landing. 
He had spent the dreariest period of his life in Lima, 
where he had no one with whom he could intimately 
associate. But now the future began to look brighter. 
Dolores was coming to cheer his days, to drive away his 
cares, to fill his heart with gladness, and to bring joy 
into the lonely, monotonous life at Lima. It was indeed a 
happy prospect for this man, who was susceptible of every 
good impression, who honestly and faithfully strove for 
the right, and in the line of the viceroys of Peru, made 4 
a notable exception. All thoughts of a war with the Indians, 
which threatened to break out sooner or later, were crowded 
into the back-ground with all their fears and anxieties. 
He gave himself fully over to a foretaste of the joy of a 
father's heart at the coming of his child. It was his 
intention on the following morning to go to Callao, there 
to await her coming. 
After a very hot day there had come a cool, refreshing 
evening. The count stepped out on the balcony of the 
palace, where he resided, in order to enjoy the air. This 
balcony overlooked a large # square, in which frequently 
thousands promenaded. The square was surrounded by 
large buildings, among these the fine cathedral. But to- 
night the place was almost empty, and dull quiet lay over 
it, while at other times it was filled with the hum of many 
voices. This seemed strange to him and somewhat troubled 
him. Perhaps the fickle citizens, he told himself, had gone 
to the boulevard'before the gate of Callao. Just then the 
draught from the room, in front of which was the balcony, 
told him that the door had been opened. A negro appeared 
and announced the chief magistrate of Lima. 
The vircy entered the room and found there awaiting 
him, a tall, rather slender Spaniard clothed in black. In 
spite of the warm weather he wore a mantle, and in his 
hand he held a hat adorned with a long, waving feather. 
About his neck he wore a large, white ruffled collar, and 
from a heavy golden chain, there hung upon his breast, 
a large golden medallion, the symbol of his office. 
Don Cinchon looked sharply into his thin, yellow face, 
and into his large black eyes, which lay deep in their 
sockets. The expression of his face and the look in his 
eyes promised no good news from the lips of the 
magistrate. 
"If I rightly interpret the expression of your face," 5 
said the virey not without an anxious presentiment, "you 
arc the bearer of bad news." 
"Unfortunately," answered the magistrate bowing low. 
"Gracious lord," the magistrate continued, "it is doubly 
sad news." 
"How so?" quickly asked Count Cinchon. 
"On the one hand we shall have war with the 
Indians, on the other hand we have to expect a famine 
in Lima." 
The virey grew pale, but he remained silent as if he 
expected further details. 
The magistrate well understood his questioning silence 
and continued: "For two days no Indian has appeared upon 
the market-place, and your lordship knows, that we have 
to depend upon the Indians for our provisions. They bring 
feed for our horses and mules, and this being cut off 
the animals must die. Moreover without their supply of 
meat and excellent fruits we shall starve. They are the 
only source from which we draw our means of 
subsistence." 
"Well," said Cinchon, "you speak to me of things 
of which I have no knowledge whatever." 
"I can well understand that," replied the magistrate, 
"but I know all the more about them, because it is my 
duty to watch the public market, where our citizens satisfy 
their wants." 
"But why has not care been taken in Lima to secure 
the absolute necessities of life, in such cases, in towns 
lying nearer the coast ?" asked Cinchon. 
"Gracious lord," replied the magistrate, "that might be 
possible during the rainy season, but during the hot months 
even the low country must draw supplies from the mountains. 
During this season vegetation dies down there, and the 
country is practically a desert." The virey made a troubled face. "But what is to be 
done?" he asked in great perplexity. 
"We can be saved only by a quick attack upon the 
Indians," answered the magistrate with great earnestness. 
"But we are not at all clear as to the intentions of the 
Indians," said Count Cinchon. 
Before the magistrate could answer, the negro again 
entered to announce Father Escobar of the Jesuit mission 
"El Ingenio", who begged for instant audience, as he had 
a most important matter to communicate. 
"Your lordship will learn more from him than I can 
tell," said the magistrate, as he bowed and retired a 
few paces. 
At the same time the door opened, and there entered a 
middle aged man of imposing appearance. A bandage was 
bound about his head, and his coat hung in rags. His 
face was pale, and he was scarcely able to keep himself 
on his feet. 
The virey hastened toward him, took him respectfully 
by the hand, and led him to a chair, where he sank down. 
"Forgive me, kind sir," said he feebly, "that I come 
to you in such a state. My mule, speedy as the wind, saved 
me when the Indians took our beautiful mission and burned 
it to the ground. They pursued me to the very gates of 
the city. A turn of my head saved me from being killed 
by the tomahawk, which caused this wound. When I 
reached the first houses of Lima, I fell fainting from my 
mule, and some good soul took pity on me, and bound up 
my wound. Brother Ambrosio is dead, the hacienda is 
levelled to the ground, and our magnificent sugar plantation 
is devastated. Our blacks and superintendents were all 
murdered. You see me before you a beggar." 
"My God!" cried the virey, "and all this comes so 
suddenly ?" 
6 7 
"No," said Father Escobar, "it was planned in secret, 
and preparations have been making for a long time, but 
no one had any suspicion until now." 
"I knew of nothing," cried Cinchon. 
"That is the way of these devils," cried the priest, 
trembling with rage. "They lay their plans in deepest 
secresy and when everything is ready, they break out in 
wildest cruelty, like a mountain stream, swollen by a 
cloudburst. This is the reason they strike so heavy and 
so sure, because no one has any suspicion, and no precautions 
have been taken." 
"Are you acquainted with any details of the case, 
reverend father?" asked Cinchon. 
Escobar recounted, that a descendant of the reigning 
family of the Incas had escaped, and lived in the distant 
mountains of Chili. His name was Huahamac. He was 
distinguished before all by the shrewdness with which 
he took advantage of opportunities, by his burning hatred 
of the whites and his extraordinary bravery. All the 
mountain tribes were under his command, and this time 
it would be a struggle for life or death, of annihilation of 
the Spaniards or the Indians. They were encamped between 
the mission "El Ingenio" and Lima. A few days would 
suffice to attack Lima, and destroy it, unless measures of 
defence were at once taken. 
This was the substance of a long, exhaustive explanation, 
which the virey however, followed with closest attention. 
It was now his duty to take the necessary steps to 
defend the city. He dismissed the magistrate and the jesuit, 
and then summoned the officers of his soldiers, with whom 
he held a council of war. 
This council lasted until far into the night. In the 
meantime a special messenger from the commandant at 
Callao brought him word, that the vessel on which his 8 
daughter had taken passage, lay at anchor in the harbor. 
The young lady wished to land on the following morning, 
in order to hasten to him. 
He informed his council of this circumstance, and 
declared at the same time, that he would himself go to 
meet his daughter. For this reason he appointed an old 
experienced general to act in his stead during his 
absence. 
No one tried to dissuade him from his plan, but all 
strongly urged him to take along an escort of one hundred 
cavalry. The Indians seemed to be kept perfectly informed 
about everything transpiring in the city, and the virey in 
going or returning, might easily fall into an ambush. 
Every man was assigned his particular duty, every 
man was appointed to his special post, and only after all 
this had been arranged, was an adjutant dispatched to 
select the escort for the virey, which was to be ready 
early the following morning. 
The night, in which an attack of the redskins might 
be expected, and for which they had carefully prepared 
themselves, passed quietly enough. Not however, for the 
virey. He could not sleep, nevertheless he was up bright 
and early in the morning. Arming himself completely, he 
mounted his battle-horse. One hundred tried and trusty 
horsemen joined him. The day had scarely dawned, when 
they rode down the broad main avenue of the city, and 
passing through the gate, followed the road toward Callao. 
A slight mist hung over the landscape, but as the sun 
came up, it disappeared quickly. 
The road they were following, was the popular 
promenade of the Limennos, as the inhabitants of Lima 
are called, and therefore bore the name Alameda de Callao. 
To the right of it there stretched away the lowlands, 
overgrown with rushes and reed-grass, to the banks of 9 
the Rimae river, which divides Lima into two unequal 
parts. The low mounds in this part of the country appeared 
as perfectly bare sand-hills. The view was wretched. Even 
the rushes and reed-grass had succumbed to the heat, 
and appeared burned and yellow. To the left the country 
gradually rose to a moderate height, crowned with woods. 
The sides of the mountain were here thickly covered with 
brushwood as far as the Alameda de Callao. 
A profound silence lay upon the scene. There were 
few animals in that region, and even birds were scarce, 
excepting the vultures, which fill the position of scavengers, 
keeping clean the roads and streets, upon which the people 
carelessly threw any refuse matter. They were seen now, 
flying toward the city from all directions, in search of 
their morning meal. 
At Cinchon's side rode old Don Perez, a warrior of 
great experience, who had grown gray in the service in 
Peru. Plis keen eyes sharply scanned the brushwood at 
the side of the road. Even when he answered the few 
questions which Cinchon addressed to him, he kept his 
face turned toward the side of the road. The vircy noticed 
this and finally asked of him the reason for his peculiar 
action. , 
"We shall probably very soon find out the good 
reason for my looking in that direction," said he. "I must 
have been very much mistaken, if I did not a little while 
ago, sec the head of a redskin, who was watching our 
approach. Lances up and tinder in readiness I" he thundered 
to the horsemen. The vircy looked at him in astonishment, 
while the horsemen instantly obeyed the order. 
"What is the meaning of this?" he quickly asked. 
"Here is the answer," cried the commander. A cloud 
of arrows whizzed through the air. Instantly it seemed as 
if several Indians rose out of every bush. Their war-whoop 10 
was the most horrible sound which had ever entered 
Cinchon's ear. 
It was fortunate for the Spaniards, that the arrows 
had been shot from such a distance as to make them 
ineffective. The command of their leader caused the troop 
to wheel about instantly, and in swift gallop they threw 
themselves upon the enemy. The Indians feared two things 
with the Spaniards, their long spears, which became 
dangerous from a considerable distance, and their firearms. 
They seldom held out over against these two, especially 
if their arrows rebounded harmlessly from the iron armor 
of the Spaniards. This was a wellknown fact. 
The red-skins had been carefully watching the 
Spaniards, but the sharp eye of Don Perez had detected 
them, and he had compelled them to shoot sooner than 
was their intention. Thus it came, that to their dismay, 
they saw that their arrows did not reach their goal. The 
swift attack of the Spaniards was more stubbornly resisted 
by them than ever before in the experience of that old 
fighter, Don Perez. Swinging their tomahawks, they rushed 
out from behind their cover, and sprang forward to battle. 
But thereby they exposed their naked bodies to the enemy. 
The Spaniards took careful aim and fired. The Indians 
fell like snow-flakes; but this did not keep them from 
renewing the attack with the greatest fury. Since there 
was no time to reload, the Spaniards brought their spears 
into action. Again they had a decided advantage. Although 
in other battles the Indians had always taken to flight 
before this weapon, the situation had changed now. With 
the greatest bravery they pressed forward, and the battle 
became hotter and fiercer than ever. More and more it 
became a single combat between the Spaniards and the 
Indians, who were their superiors in numbers. The swords 
were torn from their scabbards, and soon again the Spaniards 11 
found the advantage on their side. Still the result of the 
battle might have remained doubtful, if a cloud of dust 
moving rapidly along the Alameda de Callao, had not told 
the Indians, that a new danger was threatening them by 
the approach of re-enforcements for the Spaniards. Don 
Perez, foreseeing an ambuscade, had arranged for these, 
and by good fortune, they arrived upon the scene of battle 
in the nick of time. 
Count Cinchon, ever brave in fight, had remained by 
the side of Don Perez, until the irregular battle, caused 
by the underbrush, had separated them. A gigantic 
chief hurled himself against him. The color of this 
Indian's skin was somewhat lighter than that of the 
other savages. His ornaments also distinguished him. 
From his head there waved a crown of feathers, such 
as none of the other Indians wore. He fell upon the count 
with terrible fury. The blows of his tomahawk hailed upon 
him, and in spite of his agility in battle^ Count Cinchon 
would not have been able long to withstand him, had it 
not been for his excellent armor and trusty shield. The 
Indian was already bleeding from several wounds, which 
gave him a most horrible appearance. Just as five Indians 
were rushing to the aid of their chief, Don Perez, who 
had struck down an Indian but a moment before, discovered 
the perilous position of the virey, and hastened to his 
assistance. One powerful sidelong blow dealt by Don 
Perez stretched the chief to earth. The other Indians, who 
now also discovered the flight of their comrades before the 
Spaniards, swiftly sped away. The Spaniards pursued the 
fleeing Indians far up the mountain side, covering the 
ground with wounded and slain. But the flight of the 
Indians was far too swift, so that the Spaniards, because 
the ground was unsuited for cavalry fighting, could not 
completely wipe them out. 12 
A half hour later no enemy was anywhere to be seen. 
The battlefield covered with the bodies of the wounded and 
the slain, showed how awful had been the defeat of the 
Indians. 
But now there began a slaughter, which the noble 
Don Cinchon tried in vain to prevent. Like cruel tigers the 
Spaniards drove their spears into the hearts of the wounded, 
until there breathed not one of them. It was only the great 
influence of the virey, and his threat to strike down anyone 
who raised a hand against him, that saved the chief from 
certain death under the very eyes of Cinchon. 
The chief had received several very deep cuts. His 
head bore particularly severe wounds. 
Cinchon dismounted, in order to examine his wounds. 
"Don't you worry about him," said Don Perez, "such 
an Indian skull is thick and hard. It is true, he is very 
badly cut up, but I will wager my sword against his 
tomahawk, that he will come to and be healed before you 
imagine. They have a life as tenacious as that of a cat." 
A soldier who knew about the application of bandages 
was called, and at the express command of the virey, 
bound up the wounds of the chief. 
"Do you notice the golden sun on his breast?" cried 
Perez. "If this be not the Inca Huahamac himself, whom 
you have brought down, I must be very much mistaken 
indeed." 
"Would to God it were true!" said Don Cinchon, as 
he looked upon his stricken foe with deep sympathy and 
pity. "There would be hope of the speedy reestablishment 
of peace." 
"True," returned Perez; "for the serpent would have 
lost its head. But mark you, I have no inclination to make 
light of the lashings of the tail. However, our enemies 
have suffered a heavy defeat, and for a few days at 13 
least, Lima is safe from them. I doubt whether it will 
be for a longer time, since I know well the nature of these 
redskins." 
While this conversation was going on the chief had 
been skilfully bound up. Water had been carefully given 
him to drink, and from the canteen of one of the soldiers, 
he had been bathed with it. Under these applications he 
at last opened his eyes. Quickly he raised his gigantic 
body to a sitting posture. He cast one swift glance over 
the battlefield, and as the certainty of a complete victory 
by the Spaniards came to him, he quickly tore a daggerlike 
knife from his belt, in order to plunge it into his heart. 
But Don Perez had been narrowly watching him, and 
with an iron grasp now seized and held his hand. The 
knife fell from his fingers and Don Perez picked it up. 
Then the Indian began to tear off his bandages. Only 
after he had been securely bound with ropes, and rendered 
perfectly helpless, could he be prevented from carrying 
out his purpose of escaping captivity by committing 
suicide. 
Several hours passed while the things which have 
been related were happening. Men and horses stood in 
need of rest, in order to continue the journey to Callao 
under the scorching rays of the sun. The old willows which 
lined the road, offered scarcely enough protection. The 
sun burned down upon them, and the iron armor of the 
Spaniards became hot to suffocation. Prudence however, 
commanded to remain in armor in order to be prepared 
for an attack. It was possible that the Indians would make 
an effort to rescue their captured Inca. 
With great difficulty Don Cinchon restrained his 
eagerness to press to his heart his darling child, the last 
and dearest treasure of his life. He was not at all tired, 
although he had fought with great bravery at the head 14 
of his company. He recognized the necessity however, of 
giving rest to both men and horses. He would have gone 
on to Callao alone, for it was but a few miles distant, 
but his escort would not permit it. 
At last they started off. Now Perez was extraordinarily 
happy. The victory had been easily won. Only three of 
his men had been wounded, and these so slightly, that 
they were not even prevented from accompanying their 
honored virey to Callao. 
But the most important circumstance was the capture 
of Huahamac, the Inca. Perez did not for one instant 
doubt that the captured chief was the very soul and spirit 
of the uprising of the Indians. The captive was turned 
over to the leader of the troops, who had come from Lima 
to reenforce them. Cinchon impressed it upon him, that 
he would be held personally responsible for any harm 
. which might be inflicted upon the chief, who was to be 
kept in the virey's palace, and treated very kindly. Then 
they parted. The troops returned to Lima, while Cinchon 
and Perez together with their escort, accompanied the 
litter, borne by carefully chosen mules. On they went 
toward the shore of the ocean, which soon lay before 
them in all its immeasurable expanse, its deep blue waters 
smooth as glass in a perfect calm. 
Cinchon's thoughts were with his child, awaiting him 
in the city far below them. He was only half attentive to 
the enthusiastic stories Don Perez was telling him of his 
experience as an Indian fighter. Yet though he did not 
give him his full attention, Cinchon frequently shuddered 
when he heard of the wild barbarities, which Perez praised 
as deeds of valor. Such speeches, like the deeds which 
they described, showed how inhumanly a harmless people 
was being treated. Men seemed actually to consider it a 
good work to slaughter the natives. Yet the fruit of such 15 
a sowing could not but be irreconcilable, mortal hatred 
of the whites by the Indians, who had been made so 
wretched. Now the towers of Callao appeared. They saw 
the shipping in the harbor, and from the flagstaff on the 
house of the port-officer they saw waving the great flag, 
which showed that Donna Dolores, the daughter of the 
powerful virey of Peru, was stopping there. 
The ground began to gently slope toward the coast, 
and giving the reins to his horse, the virey sped forward. 
Behind him followed the escort, still bearing the traces 
of the bloody work they had but just done, in the blood- 
stains on their armor. A few minutes later, the lady, 
weeping tears of joy, lay upon her happy father's 
bosom. 
Cinchon could not weary of gazing upon her. During 
the time he had been compelled to leave her in Spain, she 
had ripened into womanhood, lovely as the opening rose, 
the faithful image of her mother. The happiness of the 
father knew no bounds, and even the stony hearts of the 
soldiers were moved, as they witnessed the happiness and 
joy of father and child. For, breaking through the 
formality of strict old Spanish etiquette and custom, these 
two followed the natural promptings of their hearts in 
their first greeting. 
Both riders and horses took a good rest in Callao. 
The men were richly entertained, and the horses were well 
fed, having had but small rations in the morning, on 
account of the lack of fodder in consequence of the Indian 
uprising. 
The conditions in Lima, and the fight with the Indians, 
did not permit of more than a few hours rest. Perez only 
waited for the time, when the day being spent, it began 
to grow cooler, and then in a modest way reminded the 
virey that the time for the return had arrived. 16 
Cinchon could not refrain from asking the question, 
whether another attack by the Indians was to be feared 
on the return. Perez knew very well that he asked this, 
on account of his daughter. 
"Most certainly not," said Perez. "They have already 
withdrawn far into the mountains. I only feared a second 
attack while they were yet in the neighbourhood, and 
because their chief was in our hands, and finally because 
they were not likely to leave their dead in our power, or 
at the mercy of the vultures. Their customs forbid that. 
But their retreat is explained in the same way. With the 
bodies of their dead they are hurrying away to a safe 
distance. We shall be secure from any attack while they 
are performing their rights over the dead, unless we seek 
them out ourselves, a thing I strongly recommend. Another 
defeat will take away the last bit of their courage, and 
compel them to sue for peace. The unfortunate condition 
of things in Lima, as well as the desire to prevent years 
of hostilities, urge this upon us. The longer a war with 
them lasts, the more serious it grows for us." 
The virey thoughtfully listened to this well considered 
advice. He compared it with what had been communicated 
to him by the magistrate of Lima and Father Escobar, 
and its truth became as clear as day to his mind. He 
therefore urged a speedy departure, and soon the company 
was ready. Donna Dolores and her "duenna", or governess 
and companion, an elderly lady, entered the litter, whose 
mules were led by negroes dressed in rich livery. Her 
maids rode behind the splendidly ornamented litter on 
gorgeously caparrisoned mules. To the right of the litter 
her father took his place, while Don Perez rode on the 
left. The escort took the litter in their midst. The company 
having thus been formed, they left Callao. 
Cinchon gave himself up to the full enjoyment of 17 
his daughter's company. She had so much to tell him 
about his country, his old friends and the different members 
of the distinguished and wealthy family of Cinchon, that 
he found no time to think of anything else. But old Don 
Perez gave all the more heed to those things required for 
their safety. 
Although many years full of experience had passed 
over him, he appeared almost youthful in bearing and 
action. His eye was as keen as that of the condor, the 
mighty bird of the Andes mountains, which from dizzy 
heights spies its prey amid the low shrubbery. Perez paid 
no attention to things near him, but the brush-covered hills 
lying to the right, and rising toward the thickly wooded 
highlands, these he sharply searched. No branch moved 
in the wind, but he keenly looked to see whether anything 
suspicious showed itself. From long experience he well 
knew the trickiness and treachery of the enemy. He knew 
how they could in the most marvellous manner cover 
themselves, until the moment favorable to them arrived 
and was instantly used. For this reason he not only noted 
every moving twig, but every sound, every call of bird 
or beast, he carefully observed, for these might well have 
been the signals of a hidden foe. 
This time however, there was no danger. There 
appeared no sign of trouble anywhere. When they came 
near to the place where the dreadful, bloody work had 
been done, and saw no trace of a dead body, the last 
care departed from his soul, and he gave his attention to 
other matters. 
The officer who had carried the flag furled up, since 
the little company had left Lima, now received the order 
to unfurl it. This was a signal which had been agreed 
upon. As soon as the flag was seen waving in the breeze, 
all the church-bells in Lima began to ring. At the same 18 
time a procession emerged from the city gates, and 
approached them on the Alameda. Crowds of young girls 
dressed in white and carrying palms, headed the procession. 
They were followed by the priests of the city, clothed in 
their magnificent robes. After these came the city officials, 
soldiers and citizens. 
The honor was shown not so much to the daughter 
of the virey, as rather to Don Cinchon himself. The city 
took this occasion to show how highly it respected and 
loved him. 
There were costly gifts presented to the young lady, 
addresses were delivered, and incense burned by the 
priests. The archbishop of Lima gave his benediction at 
the close of the celebration. Then the procession was 
again formed, all the riders following the litter. 
Thus they moved along between dense crowds of 
people, who shouted themselves hoarse in joyous greeting, 
until they arrived at the Plaza Major, as the great square 
in front of the virey's palace was called. 
The virey himself assisted his beautiful daughter to 
alight from her litter. Taking her by the hand he led 
her into the cathedral, where a service was held, to implore 
God's blessing for the young lady and to render praise and 
thanksgiving for the victory which had been won. After 
the religious ceremonies the virey brought his daughter 
to the palace, a plain, though massive structure, which 
Pizarro, the conqueror of Peru, had built. 
While she was comfortably settling herself in her new 
home, Don Cinchon presided at a council of war. Perez 
gave it as his opinion, that the small, yet strong army 
should set out very early on the following morning, to 
seek out the Indians in their hiding places. This plan 
prevailed. 
While Cinchon was loath thus to leave his daughter, 19 
when she had scarcely entered his home, he was nevertheless 
much comforted by the assurance of Father Escobar, that 
his prisoner really was Huahamac, a descendant of the 
powerful family of Incas, who had once ruled over _the 
land. The head of the rebellious Indians was in his hands, 
and under the circumstances, was doing very well. 
Cinchon had a hard struggle against the demands 
raised on all sides, that Huahamac be burned at the stake 
according to an old Spanish custom. However, his will 
was law, although his view, that Christian charity must 
at last take the place of harshness and brutality, was not 
accepted by these hard-hearted, cruel men. 
That very night he visited his prisoner, and to his 
satisfaction he found him much more resigned to his fate. 
The care which he received did him good, and when the 
noble virey visited him in his prison cell, and assured 
him of a mild and gentle treatment, that broke his pride, 
and he felt his heart swell with a feeling which he had 
thought he could never entertain for any Spaniard. Cinchon 
did more. He commended the wounded prisoner to the 
care of his daughter, when he found that he would have 
to leave Lima for a time. 
CHAPTER IT. 
It was a-sore trial for Dolores, that she had to be 
separated from her dear father so soon after her arrival. 
She bore it the more heavily because he was going out 
to battle, and would be exposed to the greatest dangers. 
Don Cinchon pressed the weeping girl to his bosom, and 20 
sought to comfort her. He told her to put her whole 
trust in Him who alone can give sure protection and 
safety. 
"Pray for me, dear Dolores," said he; "and God will 
give His angels charge over me, to keep me in safety. - 
One thing more. Be gentle with our prisoner. You can 
not speak with him, but everybody understands deeds 
of kindness, even though he may not be able to understand 
words of kindness, which are spoken to him. Deeds of 
kindness are acceptable to God. May He keep you. I 
know that you will do what I have asked of you." 
Then he hastened away, mounted his steed, and 
disappeared down the street, which led through the city 
gate to the mountains. The troops were already assembled, 
and they set out at once. 
The inen were well equipped, and courage filled their 
hearts and souls. And there was need of careful equipment 
and a stout heart, for the marches were long and frequently 
those in the van had to make a road for those who 
followed. When night came they sank down utterly worn 
out, to sleep under the open sky. The intense heat also 
wearied them very much. It was a fortunate thing that 
there was no lack of delicious, nourishing fruits, and that 
there was an abundance of fine clear springs. Besides 
they were in the very home of that plant which we praise 
as one of God's best gifts to man, the potato. Sir Frances 
Drake first brought it to England in 1586, and since then 
it has come to be one of the most indispensable articles of 
food. The season of its full growth was here, and they 
thus found everywhere the most wholesome and nourishing 
food. They prepared the potatoes by roasting them in 
the fire. 
Don Perez had sent ahead as scouts two negroes, who 
had served him well in the previous Indian war. They 21 
returned on the evening of the third day, and noiselessly 
slipped into the old fighter's tent. They reported that 
they had found the Indians engaged in their funeral rites 
in a deep valley, only a few hours'march distant. The 
Indians seemed to have no idea that their enemies were 
so near. The scouts had even found the very best routes, 
by which it would be possible to attack the Indians from 
two sides at, once. 
Now Perez was sure of his undertaking. When the 
day broke he communicated to the virey what his scouts 
had reported. Then he divided his troops into two equal 
companies, and appointed one of the negroes for each to 
act as guide. He took the leadership of that troop which 
was to attack the enemy from behind, because the virey 
desired to head the company which was to make the 
direct attack. 
Everything had been carefully considered in the 
council of war. And so they set out on that march 
which at last was to bring them face to face with the foe. 
Victory was certain, and yet Cinchon was not glad, was 
not happy. 
The route led through narrow passes, and then to a 
shallow creek whose course they followed. It led them 
straight into the valley where the Indians were encamped. 
Now they had to make haste to get out of the narrow 
gorge before the Indians could learn of their approach. 
It was almost incredible when one considers the great 
shrewdness of the Indians, that they should have had no 
warning of the coming of their foes. Yet this was the 
case, and so secure did they feel themselves, that they 
had made no provisions whatever for their safety. They 
depended upon the exceptional seclusion of this valley 
in which they were encamped. 
Their terror was indescribable when the horsemen 22 
suddenly broke from the forest which surrounded the 
valley, and when they saw the musketeers advance upon 
them. Thousands of them, for their numbers were great, 
hurled themselves against the foe. Thousands of them 
turned to flee into the forests, but Don Perez awaited 
them here, and there began a fearful massacre. Most of 
them turned back and brought confusion into the ranks 
of those who had courageously thrown themselves against 
the troops led by Don Cinchon. 
And now Don Perez and his troops broke forth from 
the forest, and there began a slaughter which we would 
rather not describe. The heart shudders at its very thought. 
Even to this day that valley in the heart of the Cordillera 
de los Andes, two days journey from Lima, is known as 
the "Valley of Blood". 
It could truthfully be said, that the army of Huahamac 
was annihilated, the insurrection quelled in its very 
beginning, and the power of the Indians broken for a long 
time to come. And even though many of them escaped 
from the battle, or rather' massacre, that made no difference 
in the result. The capture of their chief had already been 
of most discouraging influence. They clung to him with 
touching fidelity, and his loss left them without an adviser 
and leader. Their courage was broken, and now there 
came this terrible defeat to show them how utterly their 
plan to secure absolute liberty had failed. 
Two days later they sent messengers to Cinchon, who 
was returning to Lima, to sue fo'r peace. They declared 
themselves willing to submit unconditionally to the Spanish 
rule. They also offered hostages as guarantees for the 
honesty of their professions. 
Cinchon's heart bled at the thought of the massacre. 
Although a man who had been in many a battle, he had 
never seen such bloodshed before. He hid not from 23 
himself the fact, that his countrymen had laid themselves 
open to severe moral censure. A wild beast will slay, but 
only to satisfy its craving hunger. They murdered simply 
from bloodthirstiness. Could these unhappy natives ever 
be won over in this way ? Could they ever be converted to 
Christianity? This was what he most earnestly desired 
with respect to them, but such experiences as these gave 
him very little encouragement indeed. 
The Indian messengers asked only for the liberation 
of Huahamac and forgiveness for themselves. 
Cinchon would have granted their petition at once 
but his advisers implored him to first carefully consider 
the matter. They told him not to forget that Huahamac 
would plan how to be revenged; that he would not rest 
until all the Spaniards had been wiped out, or until the 
Indians themselves were annihilated. They went even 
further and demanded the chief's execution. 
But with this demand they exhausted Cinchon's 
patience. He grew very angry. In the most earnest and 
determined manner he refused to accede to their demand, 
and no one dared again to approach him on this matter. 
He arrived at Lima very much out of humor, so that 
even the joyous greeting he received could not cheer him 
up. Many things however, had happened there during 
his absence. 
Don Cinchon had scarcely left Lima with his troops, 
when Father Escobar came to the palace. Huahamac was 
kept a prisoner here in an underground cell, and the 
priest asked to be permitted to see him, in order to make 
an effort at his conversion. Donna Dolores, under whose 
charge the prisoner had been placed by her father, gladly 
gave the permission, and Escobar spent hours with the 
chief. But he grew more impatient after each visit. He 
declared that he had never met with a more stubborn 24 
and hardhearted heathen. He began to despair of ever 
succeeding in his conversion. 
This opinion of the priest made a bad impression 
upon the young lady and especially upon her old "duenna". 
Nevertheless it did not hinder her from being kind to 
the prisoner, nor from showing him attentions, and doing 
everything in her power to ease his lot. She herself bound 
up his wounds and was overjoyed to see how rapidly they 
healed. Her coming was indeed a blessing for Huahamac. 
He looked upon her as an angel, who had been sent 
to cheer him, for she was so gentle and kind. She never 
came to him without showing him some attention, and 
offering him some relief. 
"O, why can I not speak with him," she frequently 
cried. "I might succeed sooner perhaps, in instilling the 
principles of our most holy faith, than Father Escobar, 
against whom he seems to harbor an ill will." 
And without a doubt she would have had better 
success. The prisoner grew more gentle, nay even cheerful, 
since she began to come to his cell. She never left him 
without giving expression to her sympathy for him. His 
wounds rapidly healed under her care, and when Cinchon 
returned, he found him almost completely recovered. 
Huahamac seized his hand as he entered the cell and 
pressed it against his forehead and then against his breast. 
He spoke with deep gratefulness of the kindness which 
had been shown him. Cinchon could not understand his 
words, and yet he knew what the prisoner wished to say. 
Upon one occasion when Dolores visited him in company 
with her father, he pointed up to heaven and then to 
Dolores. His gesture was too eloquent to be misunderstood. 
Cinchon looked upon his daughter in happy pride. She 
was doing what he had asked her to do, and according 
to the careful training he had given her. 25 
Tie had declared to the Indian messengers, who had 
come to him on the homeward march, and with whom 
he could speak through Perez as interpreter, that he would 
only then think of making peace with them, if they would 
again supply Lima with provisions as they had formerly 
done. On the very day after his return, the great square 
opposite the palace was crowded with men and women, 
bringing more supplies than ever before. It was a sign 
how eager they were to be forgiven and to secure a 
permanent peace. 
Cinchpn under such conditions, grew more kindly 
disposed toward the poor Indians. 
However, the more inclined to show mercy the virey 
grew, the harder his courtiers urged upon him to have 
Huahamac executed. They told him how absolutely 
necessary it was for him to make an example. 
This moderation, they said, was considered by the 
Indians to be weakness, nay, they even attributed it to 
fear. It was Father Escobar alone, who had the courage 
to urge such opinions before the virey, and he tried 
every possible means to reach his ends. 
The Indians also learned of the virey's inclination 
to deal mercifully with them. They sent another embassy 
to him to plead for the liberation of their chief, Huahamac. 
They emphasized their peaceful sentiments, and as guar- 
antees of their faithfulness, offered to send hostages. 
Count Cinchon had learned from Escobar, that Huahamac 
had a daughter, about as old as Dolores, and that the 
chief clung to her with all his soul, since she was an 
only child. 
Among other hostages he demanded Hualma as 
hostage for her father. The Indians readily gave their 
assent. 
In a long procession they brought their hostages to 26 
Lima. Then with all the pomp and ceremony customary 
among the Indians, the treaty of peace was ratified. 
Huahamac gave his consent to the plan only on the 
condition, that Hualma should be permitted to remain 
with Dolores. Cinchon promised him this, and Hualma 
herself unbound the fetters of her father. 
It was indeed an affecting sight when the young Indian 
maiden, led by Dolores and accompanied by Cinchon and 
Perez, entered the cell in which her father was kept. 
With a heart-rending cry she fell at his feet. Her 
lovely eyes streamed with tears. With the greatest 
difficulty the Indian chief, usually so calm and stolid, 
kept control of his feelings, which threatened to over- 
power him. 
He drew his child to his bosom and imprinted a kiss 
upon her forehead. After his fetters had been loosed, he 
seized Hualma by the hand, and led her over to Dolores. 
Then he took Dolores' hand and placed it upon Hualma's 
head. Then he expressed his thanks to Dolores for all 
the kindness she had shown him, and begged her to 
treat Hualma like a sister. Most earnestly he spoke to 
his daughter, and urged her to requite Dolores' kindness 
to him, by self-sacrificing love and service to her. 
After having thus charged his daughter he stepped 
over to Cinchon. He praised the virey's courage, but 
above all his merciful spirit. He knew very well, said 
he, that he had to thank him alone for the fact, that 
he had not been condemned to die a most cruel death, 
and would ever remain grateful. 
"You are not like the other Spaniards," he continued, 
"who know no mercy. You are the first one to show the 
Indians a human heart. Had I known you formerly as 
I know you now, never would my tomahawk have been 
raised against your head." 27 
He begged him to treat his beloved child Hualma, 
tenderly and kindly, and then he departed with the vow, 
that never again would he take up arms against him. 
Perez had faithfully translated these things, and the 
words of the chief had made an impression even upon 
him, old Indian fighter though he was. Cinchon took 
Huahamac's hand, and assured him that he would ever 
treat Hualma like his own child. 
Once more Huahamac embraced his daughter, and 
then he proudly left the palace in whose orison he had 
worn the chains of captivity. 
The dissatisfaction with the virey's generous treatment 
of the Indian chief only very gradually, and after a long 
time disappeared. But he had the satisfaction, that as 
long as he was at Lima, the peace was not again broken. 
It is true that the crushing defeat of the Indians in the 
"Valley of Blood" may have had a great deal to do with 
this, for their strength had been broken. But long after 
he had left Peru in order to spend his declining years 
in the land of his fathers, his name still lingered on the 
lips of the Indians, as the protector of their people. 
CHAPTER HI. 
In silent, though sad resignation Hualma bore her 
captivity. She was a captive, even though she moved 
freely about the palace and enjoyed the companionship 
of Dolores. The virey's daughter soon came to love her 
dearly, for Hualma was as gentle as a dove. She seemed 
to read every wish from Dolores' eyes, and hastened to 28 
fulfil it. Yet a keen home-sickness filled herheart. Dolores 
tried everything to cheer her up, and to make her happy 
and contented. Unfortunately the chief means for com- 
forting were here lacking. The girls were unable to 
communicate their thoughts and feelings to each other 
by speech. Only look and gesture, and the kind and gentle 
treatment of the Indian maiden, were the means of com- 
munication between them. 
But Hualma was especially talented. With utmost 
diligence she tried to learn the Spanish language, and 
her pains were rewarded. After only six months the two 
girls were able to make themselves understood to each 
other. From this time on their intercourse was indeed 
ideal. They became as closely attached to each other, 
as if the same mother had .given them life. This beautiful 
relation was due to the fact that both had received from 
God, their Creator, the same pure, open, generous, mild 
and tender disposition. 
Now Hualma began to grow more cheerful. Her 
timidity disappeared and she moved more freely in the 
family circle, a circumstance which made her even more 
lovable. She still considered herself a servant to Dolores, 
even though the virey's daughter did her best to dispel 
such a notion, and tried tc, lift her to the station she wished 
her to hold, as companion and friend. 
Huahamac had visited her several times. These 
meetings with her dearly beloved and affectionate father, 
and the assurance that she might see him often, had 
overcome her longing for home. Her whole nature seemed 
to change, and from the sad-eyed mourning Indian maiden, 
she became sunny and happy. 
The fashionable ladies of Lima, who sought so eagerly 
the society of Dolores, were much displeased at the 
intimacy which sprang up between the two girls. Even 29 
the "duenna" took offence at it, and tried to hinder it in 
every way. Cinchon however, was delighted with the 
relation between the two girls, and spoke to the "duenna" 
so seriously, that she gave up her opposition. 
As long as he remained at Lima, Father Escobar tried 
his best to convert Hualma to 'Christianity, but the girl 
felt rather repelled by the stern, harsh man, just as if the 
repugnance her father had felt against him, had been 
carried over into her soul. She trembled whenever she 
saw him. 
Cinchon did not venture to interfere with the impetuous 
man, since such a course might have brought serious 
consequences with it for the virey, on account of the 
great influence of the priest. Dolores had been trained 
to profoundly respect every priest, and she could pot 
bring herself to ;be unkind, or unfriendly to him. 
It was an occasion welcomed by all, when he returned 
to the mission station of "El Ingenio" in company with 
another priest of his order. The wealthy people of Lima 
presented him with rich gifts of money for his work, and 
he took along 'with him a number of poor negroes, who 
were to repair the damage done by the Indians in their 
late attack. 
Now Dolores began a course of instruction which 
sooner found its way into the Indian girl's heart than the 
harsh measures of Father Escobar. A stream of holy 
influence seemed to flow from her soul into the soul of 
Hualma. Her instruction drove a deeper root, because 
love prepared the ground into which the seed was sown. 
Hualma's eyes were fixed upon the face of her dear 
friend during these holy and blessed conversations, and 
not one of the words which the warm, glowing faith of 
Dolores prompted her to speak was lost. 
Hualma soon accompanied her into the lofty cathedral, 30 
where the religious ceremonies made a deep impression 
upon her. The deepest impressions she received however, 
when in their own quiet room they would kneel down 
together, and Dolores would pour forth her sincere words 
of prayer, just as she was prompted to speak by a devoutly 
religious heart. 
Thus Dolores gently, yet steadily brought the soul 
of the Indian maiden to the feet of her Saviour; thus 
she guided her into holy truth, and the road she led her 
was the more sure, her effort to draw the young soul to 
Christ the more successful, because a pious, hallowed life 
went hand in hand with her holy instruction. If the hearts 
of these young maidens had been bound together in love 
before, the bond became the firmer now by their common 
faith in their blessed Redeemer. 
The baptism of Ilualma was a high festival day for 
the whole city of Lima. To Dolores it was a higher and 
more holy festival, for at last she saw realized what she 
had most earnestly prayed for so long. One might have 
expected that Huahamac would have grown furious when 
he learned that his daughter had accepted the faith of 
the Spaniards. This was not the case however, for the 
kind treatment he had received at the hands of Cinchon, 
as he often said, had changed his heart. From a bitter 
enemy he had been changed into a devoted friend, since 
he had experienced Don Cinchon's generosity. He came 
to Lima very often. He learned more and more to love 
and honor Dolores and her father, for he saw how they 
treated his daughter not as an hostage, but as a friend 
and sister, as a child of the family. In this house he beheld 
the rich fruits of a sincere Christian faith, and he no 
longer was opposed to what Hualma told him of her 
intention, for his heart was reconciled to a faith that could 
lead to such noble deeds. 31 
Huahamac was a very sensible person. His heart had 
so much good in it, that he formed an exception among 
his people. He was constantly exerting his influence for 
good, for the uplifting of the Indians. Whenever he came 
Cinchon received him most cordially. The shrewd, keen- 
eyed Indian saw that this friendliness was not a mask, 
which the virey merely wore in order to hide his true 
feelings; that it was not an artificial kindness, practiced 
merely in order to win him, the powerful Inca, for the 
purposes of the Spaniards. That would have repelled him. 
But his heart was won by the frank, and honest, and 
heartfelt kindness which was uniformly shown him, and 
he blessed the day which brought him into a closer contact 
with the virey, and led his child into Cinchon's house, while 
his people and their priests cursed the Spaniards and the 
defeat which they had suffered through them. If Huahamac 
had not been an Inca, a descendant of the ancient family 
of the rulers of Peru, whom the natives revered almost 
as a God, he would have lost all his influence as chief. 
Again and again he urged the maintenance of peace. He 
pointed out to his people that the Spaniards held an over- 
whelming majority, and that every attempt to overcome 
them by war, must lead to inevitable defeat. 
"Children of the Sun" was what the Peruvians called 
their Incas. They were accustomed to show blind obedience 
to their will. If they gave in to Huahamac however, it 
was because they felt themselves too weak to take up 
arms after the crushing defeat they had sustained. But 
they submitted with the impotent rage of the defeated 
and oppressed. 
Huahamac's relations with Don Cinchon were product- 
ive of much good in another direction also. It was he 
who reported to the virey every act of brutality 
which a Spaniard had perpetrated upon the natives. The 32 
hatred and fury of the defeated people could easily be 
fanned into fresh flames by these things. But whenever 
he made such a communication, the virey at once took 
steps to mete out justice, and the offender was made to 
feel the sharpness of the laws. Huahamac never failed 
to bring such acts of justice to the notice of his people 
in order to create confidence in the noble virey. He 
called him the "Father of the Indians". While his efforts 
were not successful with all, yet he won over so many 
that it seemed as if peace would be secured for a long 
time for blood-washed Peru. This hope was a source of 
great happiness for Don Cinchon. His rule was a period 
of blessing, a circumstance which was recognized in Lima, 
as the Indians also had come to know it. 
The happiness of the noble virey seemed perfect. The 
foundations of his happiness were peace without, developing 
trade with the Indians, favor in Madrid, and the joy, which 
as a father, he took in his child, Dolores. 
Yet - - - when is man's happiness unclouded? 
When arc the heavens perfectly clear? When is man's 
joy absolutely complete ? 
CHAPTER IV. 
Since the conquest of Peru by Pizarro it had been 
a most deplorable fact, that more Spaniards perished in 
consequence of the unhealthy climate, than by the arrows 
of the Indians. All along the coast of Peru they died 
of malaria fever, after a prolonged illness. No medical 
skill, nor the most carefully regulated life, could protect 33 
the European against this fever,, which only the strongest 
constitutions seemed able to withstand, and even these 
sometimes succumbed to it. Those who were attacked 
by it, dragged themselves along, their faces haggard, their 
limbs trembling, their complexion a yellowish brown, and 
all of them sooner or later, became victims of the horrible 
disease from which there seemed no escape. Even when 
a patient dragged himself aboard a vessel to seek a more 
favorable climate, he did not always succeed in shaking 
it off. He bore the germs of the malady with him from 
the first chill, and like a messenger of death was that 
^first cold chill which shook his body. The Indians noted 
this wasting away of their oppressors with a mocking 
smile. For a long time the Spaniards were bound to 
dwell in the fever districts along the coast, because they 
did not succeed in founding secure towns farther up in 
the highlands and mountains. Besides the Indians gave 
them little opportunity for rest, or even for the care of 
the sick, and so it seemed as if in this way they would 
be relieved of their haughty oppressors, and that the grave 
would swallow up the last Spaniard. 
This was the bold, but unjustified hope of a people 
who had been made wretched by the Spaniards. The greed 
for gold characteristic of the Spaniards of that time, 
brought new numbers of oppressors to the shores of Peru. 
Neithei' the murderous battles with the Peruvians, nor 
the destructive malaria fever could prevent the steady 
stream of fortune hunters from pouring into Peru. They 
believed it to be the land where all their hopes would 
be realized. They called it El Dorado, under which name 
they pictured to themselves a city, nay even a country, 
where everything which a man needed in his house, was 
made of pure gold. Such fabulous tales as these had 
inflamed the brains of those old Spaniards in a most 34 
incredible manner, and filled them with a longing to 
find this El Dorado. Whoever could get away tried to 
reach distant Peru. The dangers and difficulties of the 
long journey were not considered, and the greed for 
gold overcame even the fear of almost certain death by 
the malaria fever of the coast. 
Everyone thought: "I will escape the dangers; I will 
not get the fever; I will find El Dorado." This was the 
sorcery by which the goldhunters were lured to the deadly 
place. 
It was wonderful that the Indians rarely contracted 
the fever, or if one did catch it, he recovered in a remarkably 
short time. 
Were they immune as natives of the place? Could 
they easier overcome it ? Or did they perhaps possess a 
medicine which secured them against it, or healed them 
when attacked? 
The Spaniards were most anxious to get clearness on 
these points. After Lima had been built, and regular 
intercourse with the Indians had been established, they 
had ample opportunity afforded them to make observations. 
They were all of the opinion, and this was confirmed by 
experience, that the Indians were just as frequently attacked 
by the malady as the Spaniards, as soon as they came 
into the northern fever-zone of the coast. They grew weak 
just as rapidly, but just as soon as they could come together 
with their Indian friends, or just as soon as they could 
get into the woods of the mountains, the germs of the 
disease were destroyed, and they recovered after a longer 
or shorter period, according to the length of time they 
had suffered from the disease. Every means were tried 
to discover the secret. Once in a while intimate friendships 
sprang up between Spaniards and Peruvians, but the secret 
was not found out, Even the most cruel torture failed to 35 
draw it out. Yet, without a doubt, there was such a secret. 
It was most probable that terrible oaths, and the fearful 
threats of the Indian priests closed the mouths of the 
people. It was possible also that the priests, who among 
the Indians were the physicians as well, alone knew the 
secret. Who could get positive answers to such questions ? 
Thus every attempt to find out the secret failed. The 
Indians who possessed it enjoyed its decided advantages, 
while without it the Spaniards wasted away and died. 
Experience had taught the Europeans that the climate 
was healthier and safer at a certain altitude above the 
coast. This had determined the selection of the site upon 
which the city of Lima had been built, which lay quite 
far up the mountain. They had hoped thus to escape the 
dreadful fever of the swamps. But the experiences of the 
future were a disappointment of their hopes. Two things 
endangered life in Lima, the climate and the frequent 
earthquakes. 
The climate of Lima was agreeable in a way, but it 
was not at all healthy. From April to October a heavy 
mist settled over the city and the surrounding country. 
The skies always began to be obscured in April. The 
morning hours were dreary and disagreeably cool. The 
rays of the noontide sun at this time still succeeded in 
penetrating through the veil of mists, but by the middle 
of this month they had already grown so dense, as to 
completely hide the sun's face. The mist was ever the 
cause of an intense humidity, although the temperature 
was not lowered in the least. The mist lingered along 
until October, then its density grew gradually less, until 
at last it disappeared altogether. 
This was the dangerous season of the year. Besides 
being menaced by other contagious diseases, malaria seized 
upon the inhabitants, claiming many victims. 36 
It was a peculiar thing that Europeans rarely took 
the fever upon first coming to Lima. Only after they 
had lived there for a while, and already began to comfort 
themselves with the thought, that they had accustomed 
themselves to the manner of living required by the local 
conditions, and that they had grown used to the climate, 
only then were they taken with it. Very often the terrible 
tribute required by the treacherous climate was not 
demanded before the second year of residence, and 
generally was paid by death. 
. The inhabitants of Lima had therefore, been bitterly 
disappointed in their hopes. But a more grievous dis- 
appointment still was in store for them. The terrible and 
frequent earthquakes were also believed to be overcome 
by the high location of the city, but the future showed 
Lima to be in the very centre of the zone of these 
disturbances. It was seldom that any length of time 
passed without the town being visited by an earthquake. 
These usually proved quite destructive, and always filled 
the inhabitants with terror. In the course of time Lima 
had to pass through terrible visitations by earthquakes. 
There were times during which not a day, not a night 
passed without a more or less violent shock. 
Cinchon had now been viceroy of Peru for several 
years, and had not yet been attacked by the deadly 
malaria fever. In fact, his health had not been affected 
so frequently here in this new country, as had been the 
case during his residence in Spain. And so he began to 
think himself immune. He believed that the strength of 
his constitution made him secure against any attack. He 
was very much concerned about Dolores however, who 
was a frail and delicate creature. He warned her repeatedly 
to be very careful so as not to contract colds, and to 
avoid eating the juicy and cooling fruits of the native 37 
trees. He watched over her himself with all the care of 
an affectionate father, and if the slightest indisposition 
showed itself, at once summoned the best physicians of Lima. 
But all this care could not prevent, that the rosy 
cheeks of the young girl gradually grew paler and paler, 
a circumstance which filled her father with secret terror. 
He consulted with the leading physicians, and their 
recommendations were followed out most conscientiously. 
In the meantime Dolores appeared to be well and was 
in the best of spirits, and so her father began to hope 
that she would escape the fever, and by this hope permitted 
himself to be lulled into a feeling of security. 
When April for the second time since her arrival, 
began to spread its misty mantle over the city, Dolores 
began to feel an increasing weariness. Her sleep was 
no more so refreshing as it used to be. It happened that 
occasionally, even on very warm days, she experienced a 
slight chill, but it was so slight and of such brief duration, 
that it was more like a shiver. These forerunners of the 
terrible fever would not escape the eye of an experienced- 
observer, especially since her appetite also began to fail. 
There were two persons who observed these ill-boding 
signs, Cinchon and Hualma, who were attached to Dolores 
with a love, capable of any sacrifice. Filled with grave 
presentiments, she tried in every way to cheer her up. 
With the increasing weakness of her body, however, 
Dolores also began to sink into a melancholy frame of 
mind. Hualma could no longer cheer her. Even her Indian 
dances and native songs which had formerly given Dolores 
so much pleasure, now failed to arouse her from her 
languor. Frequently when the young Peruvian knew herself 
to be alone and unobserved, she would wring her hands 
in agony of spirit, while the tears streamed from her large, 
lustrous black eyes. Then she would sink into brooding, 38 
and would give expression to the grief of her soul in 
loud sighs. When she recovered her composure she 
carefully removed all traces of her sorrow before returning 
to Dolores, who spent the greater part of the day reclining 
on a couch. 
Cinchon also tried just as hard to hide his anxiety 
from his daughter, who often gazed at him with a most 
peculiar sorrowful, questioning glance. The physicians 
exhausted their doubtful art. Soon the unmistakable 
symptoms of the destroying fever were apparent to all. 
Cinchon would not move from her bedside after that. 
Out of the wreck of his life's happiness, Dolores was all 
that was left to him. And now he had to see her wasting 
away without hope of recovery. He knew the disease well 
enough to be convinced that Dolores must inevitably 
succumb to it. For this malady the physicians had not 
yet found a cure, and the medicines they employed against 
it, were without any effect whatever. 
Thus the deepest sorrow and heaviest care had entered 
the palace of the virey, where a happiness had reigned 
since the coming of Dolores, such ns it had not seen before. 
Greater sorrow, greater care than this, man can not know 
on earth. The whole palace seemed as if died out. The 
servants noiselessly moved about. No one dared to speak 
a loud word, for fear of disturbing her, whom they all 
held dear in love and reverence. 
The visits of those kind citizens, who came to show 
their sympathy with the noble young lady in her suffering, 
could not be received, however well they were meant. Rest 
and absolute quiet were the most necessary things required 
for the patient. 
The business of state was transacted by the virey in 
the lower appartment of his palace, so that no sound 
whatever might disturb the sufferer. So great was the 39 
sympathy with the sufferings of the young lady in Lima, 
that the Plaza Major, the great square between the virey's 
palace and the cathedral, was voluntarily deserted. The 
market which it was customary to hold there, was trans- 
ferred to another, distant square; and instead of taking 
their evening promenade there as they were used to do, 
the people went along the Alameda, beyond the Gate of 
Callao. In every way they thus also showed the tenderest 
consideration for the father in his sorrow, for they all 
held him in highest esteem. Unfortunately the efforts of 
the physicians were as fruitless, as all this considerate 
love of the people. The disease steadily progressed, and 
vitality was being exhausted. The time could not be far 
distant any more, when the young life would have to 
succumb to the treacherous malady. 
It is a sad experience of life, that our troubles never 
come singly. 
Cinchon also was to learn that his anxiety for his 
child was not to be his only trouble. He had never been 
quite relieved of the unrest which had been caused by the 
excitement due to the outbreak of the Indians. Now 
that his daughter was taken so critically ill, this disquiet, 
or rather nervousness began to increase. Even at the time 
of the Indian outbreak he had suffered from loss of sleep. 
Disquieting thoughts drove it from him. When Dolores 
began to suffer from the fever, he gave himself no rest 
at all. To all the multitude of cares connected with his 
position, came this great anxiety for his child. Was it 
to be wondered at, that all this began to seriously effect 
his health? 
He felt the approach of the sickness, but the iron will 
of the man held back its outbreak. But when the time 
of the heavy fogs arrived, the disease broke out in a much 
more dangerous and irresistible form. 40 
He. made a desperate attempt to hide the truth from 
Dolores, but of course, did not long succeed in doing so. 
He had been attacked much more severely than she, and 
sooner than she was compelled to take to his bed. 
Hualma now became the tireless, devoted nurse of 
both sufferers. The clearer she recognized the progress 
of the disease, the more anxious she became. A fatal 
ending seemed absolutely certain, since none of the 
medicines employed by the physicians of Lima took any 
effect whatever. 
It was just at this critical time, that Huahamac, 
impelled by the longing to see his child, came to Lima. 
Hualma saw him coming and ran to meet him. 
"You look ill! You are weeping, my dear child," said 
he. "What has happened? Speak!" 
"O, my father," cried the heart-broken girl, "Dolores, 
my dearly beloved Dolores, is lying hopelessly ill with the 
fever. Her life is like to a light burning out. Soon she 
will surrender her pure soul into the hands of her God. 
But this is not all! The virey also, who loves me like a 
father, the blessed benefactor of Peru, he who saved your 
life, he also has been taken with this terrible disease, 
which mercilessly slays these strangers. If Dolores should 
die, my heart shall break; for I do not care to live 
without her. If the virey should die, he will be followed 
by a Spaniard without a heart, without mercy, and our 
poor people will again become the victims of pitiless and 
cruel persecution, as was the case formerly, according 
to what you have told me. Dear father, must they 
then die ?" 
These words were accompanied by a look from the 
beautiful eyes of the girl, so beseeching, so sorrowful, that 
it entered into the very soul of the chief. Still Huahamac 
remained silent for a long time. 41 
"Father, will you not answer your child?" cried the 
girl in great excitement. 
"You know, Hualma, what an oath binds my tongue," 
he answered slowly in a most sorrowful tone. 
"An oath made to destroy, to kill the noblest men, 
is a most guilty thing before God," she cried. 
Huahamac again remained silent, but his face became 
clouded as by heavy trouble. 
"Let us go to them," he said, seizing her hand. 
Together they entered Don Cinchons apartment. 
Huahamac drew back in fright, as he beheld the 
wasted frame of the once powerful man. Cinchon was 
scarcely able to give his hand to the chief, so feeble had 
he grown during the brief time of his illness. His face 
had grown thin; his eyes lay deep in their sockets, and 
his skin was frightfully yellow. 
Huahamac was deeply moved at the sight. 
"I am afraid that the end has come for my dear 
Dolores and for me," said the virey. "There is no cure 
for this wasting fever. Our physicians have tried every- 
thing, but nothing takes effect, nothing helps. Alas! why 
did I ever summon her to Peru ?" 
The tone of his voice showed the intense sorrow which 
filled the soul of the virey. Hualma took his hands between 
hers and leaned her head against the wall. The tears 
streamed from her eyes. Huahamac looked upon him in 
sincere sympathy. 
"We are not quite as far as that," he said firmly. 
He had learned to speak a little Spanish. 
"You foolish man," said the virey, "do you also wish 
to deceive me as the doctors are trying to do? Do you 
think that I am not aware, that no man ever recovered, 
who had the fever as severe as I have it ? Do you really 
think that the delicate constitution of my child, can resist 42 
this treacherous malady? No, Huahamac, I do not give 
myself over to false hopes, which must be disappointed. 
Nay, I consider it wrong to do so. I must think of my 
end, and prepare for it, in order that I may stand before 
the eternal Judge of my days. There is one comfort for 
me, namely that my beloved Dolores will soon be with 
me in the eternal kingdom of my God." 
Huahamac was deeply moved by the words he heard. 
The physician entered at this moment and found Don 
Cinchon somewhat excited, and weaker in consequence. 
''You have spoken with the Indian too long," he said. 
''This is very harmful to you." 
Hualma understood the words of the physician. She 
gently drew her father from the room. Once outside the 
door he released his hand. 
"I do not wish to see Dolores," he said. "It might 
do her harm." 
Then Hualma threw herself upon her knees before 
him. She lifted up her hands to him beseechingly and 
whispered: 
"O my father, have mercy upon her and upon your 
own child!" 
"Hualma," he cried, "you do not know what you are 
asking. By the sun I have sworn never to reveal the cure 
to a Spaniard." 
"It is a godless oath, which in itself is a sin before 
God," cried the girl springing to her feet. "You have 
sworn it by the creature instead of by Him, who gave it 
existence and life. In your blindness, father, you swore 
it to the destruction of your fellowmen. It is your solemn 
duty to break that oath, unless you would load heavier 
guilt still upon your soul." 
"Did they not torture us mercilessly? Did they not 
murder our wives and children, and our best warriors 43 
relentlessly? Have they not robbed us of the land of our 
fathers ?" he asked with quivering voice. 
"It is their fault," returned the girl with earnestness, 
"but Jesus Christ, the Son of the living God, our Saviour, 
says: 'Bless them that curse you, do good to them that 
hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use, and 
persecute you; that ye may be the children of your Father 
which is in heaven: for he maketh his sun to rise on the 
evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and 
on the unjust!" 
"Does He say that?" the Indian asked with a peculiar 
tone of astonishment. 
"Yes, my father, these are His words. But more than 
that, this is what He did during His life on earth. He 
did this while His enemies were crucifying Him under 
unspeakable tortures. He prayed for His enemies: 'Father 
forgive them, they know not what they do!'" 
The Indian's head fell upon his breast. He stood thus 
for a while as if he were a statue carved out of stone, 
deeply engaged in thought. Suddenly he tore himself away 
from Hualma, and hastily left the palace. Hualma wished 
to hurry after him, but he ran like some wild animal 
pursued by the hunter. She could not catch up with him, 
and by the time she emerged from the palace, he had 
disappeared in one of the streets leading into the Plaza 
Major. 
She hurried back into the palace and up to her apart- 
ment, closing the door behind her. Here she threw herself 
upon her knees, and folding her hands, she lifted eye and 
hand to heaven in her appeal. Her lips moved slightly, 
but no sound was heard; only this much the ear might 
have distinguished: "Lord, Lord, enlighten him by Thy 
Spirit, and move his soul to a blessed determination." 
When she again became composed, and had removed 44 
the tear-stains from her face, she left her apartment, in 
order to prepare a cool, refreshing drink for the patients, 
from the juice of some delicious fruit, which is found in 
such abundance on the mountain-sides of Peru. She alone 
knew how to prepare this drink, and from her hands 
alone Dolores and her father would receive it. Now again 
she brought it to the patients in golden cups, and affect- 
ionate looks and grateful words were an ample reward 
for the true and faithful girl. 
CHAPTER V. 
The Indians of Peru had long been acquainted with 
a positive remedy for malaria fever. This was the bark of 
a certain tree, known to us as Peruvian bark. They had 
used the cure in the treatment of every case occurring 
among them since time immemorial, and since the treat- 
ment became known in Europe, physicians recognize in it 
the only reliable means with which to fight this treacherous 
fever. I will have to speak of this tree to my readers, 
because the thread of the story compels me. Let me first 
relate to you what the Indians of Peru tell about the 
discovery of the healing properties of the bark of this tree. 
A certain Peruvian had been guilty of a crime, which 
was punishable by death, according to the laws of his 
people, and the Inca, or ruler of the people, had spoken 
the irrevocable sentence. The Peruvian however, belonged 
to a distinguished and powerful family, who could not 
endure the thought that one of their number should be 
executed as a criminal, and thus a great disgrace be 45 
brought upon them all. They put forth every effort to 
aid him to escape, and they succeeded. Pachicamak was 
the name of the criminal. He fled into the almost 
impassable fastnesses of the mighty mountain range, which 
runs through the country. The Inca of Peru exhausted 
every means in vain in his effort to again get him into 
his power. His hiding-place could not be discovered for 
the simple reason that it was not a single place, for the 
fugitive was sly enough not to remain in hiding too long 
in one place. The regions that he sought out were the 
wildest and most unknown parts of the Andes mountains, 
or the Cordillera de los Andes, as the Spaniards called 
the range. There he hid himself in deep gorges, in caves, 
or in impenetrable thickets. He never suffered from lack 
of food because the favored land produces an abundance 
of wholesome fruit, which everywhere grows wild. His 
arrow never failed to hit when he shot, and to bring down 
the lama, which lives in that climate, and whose flesh is 
very nourishing and strengthening. 
But this restless life in the damp gorges of the 
mountains, finally began to have an evil effect upon his 
health. In consequence of the dampness, of sleeping in 
the open air, of drinking different kinds of water, and of 
often eating the cool, refreshing fruits of trees, he was 
seized with the fever common in those parts. Plc quickly 
understood that the end of his days was quite near. With 
the progress of the disease it grew harder for him to 
travel. Pie sought 'out a spot therefore, where he erected 
a hut of moss, 'and now comfortless and forsaken, he 
determined to await his end. Whenever the sun shone near 
his hut, he dragged himself forth to enjoy some of its 
warmth, without exposing himself to its burning rays. 
A rocky wall, thickly overgrown with shrubbery, 
afforded him an excellent opportunity for this. From this 46 
point he could look into a little valley running off to one 
side. He noticed there a peculiar kind of tree, which he 
had not seen elsewhere in the Andes mountains, although 
his eye saw the familiar plants and trees of his home on 
every side. 
These trees, growing together in groups near the edge 
of the dense forests of trees of different species, attained 
a height of between thirty and forty feet. Their trunks 
were covered with a bark which was sometimes of a 
greenish, then again of a brownish, or redish-brown color, 
and very rough. The branches grew straight out from 
the trunk, and had beautiful leaves, of a shining green, at 
all seasons of the year. At the ends of the branches there 
grew bunches of bell-shaped flowers, upon which the eye 
rested with as much pleasure, as the nostrils found in 
inhaling their lovely scent. 
Pachicamak easily distinguished different species. 
Although the general shape of the trees, the bark and the 
leaves was almost the same with all, the bunches of flowers 
differed, sometimes being pure white, then again of a 
bright red color. 
The fruit formed a capsule, but uneatable, of a bitter, 
disagreeable taste. At the time Pachicamak lay sick and 
weak in the mountains, these fine trees were in full bloom, 
and their sweet scent as well as their beauty, as they hung 
under the protecting roof of the shining fresh leaves, 
refreshed, and strengthened him. 
As he lay there thinking of the nearness of his end, 
he could not entirely repress his longing for father, mother, 
brothers and sisters. He felt the need of at least seeing a 
living being. It was seldom however, at that height, that 
he saw a bird or any animal; only the giant-bird of the 
Andes, the condor, he occasionally beheld, hovering in 
almost immeasurable heights, whence it searched out its 47 
prey, upon which it pounced like a dart of lightning. Thus 
time dragged on heavily for him, and had there not dwelt 
in his youthful soul that love for life characteristic of 
those of his age, he would have longed for death to come 
sooner, than his disease seemed to threaten. Just this slow 
progress of his disease, with the certainly of its outcome, 
made the future appear more and more dreary to him. 
One day he again lay propped up against the rocky wall, 
following his gloomy thoughts, when he saw a lama creeping 
along, quite without fear, for it did not see him. It was 
very lean and its gait was tottering. Its breath was short, 
and its flanks rose and fell quickly. The animal was 
evidently suffering from a disease similar to that of 
Pachicamak. He observed it closely, and to his astonish- 
ment saw it eat the bark of the tree, whose beauty he 
had so often admired. 
For quite a number of days the animal appeared every 
morning and ate of the bark of the tree. From day to day 
the healing effect of the remedy became more apparent. 
The appearance of the animal improved, it became sportive, 
and its strength increased, until finally it no longer came. 
"How?" cried Pachicamak. "Should not the bark 
perhaps help me as well ? I must die a slow death from 
exhaustion at all events. I shall try it." 
He tried to drag himself near to one of the trees. 
With great difficulty he broke off some of the bark and 
began to chew it. It required the utmost selfcontrol for 
the taste was exceedingly bitter, and it drew together 
his mouth by its sharpness. 
When he had repeated this for several days he thought 
to his great delight, that he noticed an improvement in his 
condition. He then steadily continued the use of the 
strangely discovered remedy, and had the satisfaction of 
seeing his malady entirely disappear. 48 
When he had completely recovered, he gathered a 
great quantity of the healing bark, and then approached 
the place where his tribe was dwelling. 
One day he met a friend in the forest, who told him 
that the Inca, who had condemned him to death, had 
been seized with the fever and was Hear his end. It flashed 
through Pachicamak's mind that he might make his remedy 
the ground of his salvation. He asked his friend to tell 
the Inca, that he was in the possession of an infallible 
remedy for the fever. He would heal him on the condition 
that pardon would be granted, and if he failed, he would 
come and voluntarily lay his head upon the executioner's 
block. 
His friend did what Pachicamak bade him to do. The 
message aroused in the soul of the Inca, a strong love of 
life. He vowed solemnly that Pachicamak should be a free 
man, if his cure succeeded. And so he was summoned to 
the court of the Inca. 
But the bark had become quite dry and hard by this 
time, and he tried to find a way to make it easy to take. 
The idea came to him to grind it to powder. This he did. 
The Inca faithfully took the powder and in a short time 
had completely recovered, and so had many others who 
had suffered from the fever, and to whom the remedy had 
been administered. Thus a cure had been discovered, and 
for centuries the remedy proved sure against the fevers, 
which the Indians no longer dreaded. 
When the Spaniards under Pizarro conquered Peru, 
the fever showed itself as the most reliable ally of the 
Indians. They saw the Spaniards dying helplessly, and 
they bound themselves by an oath, whose breaking meant 
&n awful death, never to reveal the remedy to a Spaniard. 
And this oath they kept faithfully. The Jesuits tried in 
vain to coax the secret from those whom they converted; 49 
in vain the viceroys subjected Indians to the most terrible 
torture in order to draw it from them, they would die 
under their sufferings, but the seal could not be removed 
from their lips. They kept their oath. 
Hualma also knew the legend of Pachicamak. She 
had frequently seen the almost miraculous effect of the 
remedy. She knew that it consisted of the powdered bark 
of a tree growing in a distant part of the Cordillera de los 
Andes, but the tree she did not know, nor the place where 
it grew. She would have shunned no difficulties, no dangers 
in order to obtain the healing bark for those persons, whom 
she loved so dearly. However, she had most earnestly 
pleaded with her father, and she had noted what a deep 
impression her words had made upon him. Upon this 
fact, but especially upon the evident change in his way 
of thinking which she had observed, she based her hopes, 
that he would bring the remedy by which the virey and 
her beloved Dolores would be saved. The change in her 
father's views was also the source of a blessed happiness 
for her. The frequent visits he made in the palace of the 
virey were in themselves a proof of this change. But she 
learned it more from the high regard and kindly affection 
with which he used to speak of the virey and Dolores. 
From occasional remarks which he made, she also learned, 
that he was a frequent visitor at the Jesuit settlements, 
the so-called missions, which had been established for the 
purpose of carrying on the work of converting the Indians. 
He spoke in terms of highest admiration of those men, 
who had given up the more comfortable life of the cities, 
in order to settle in the lonely mountains, for the purpose 
of carrying on the work of evangelizing the Indians. He 
knew that this was connected with infinite hardships, and 
required great devotion, many sacrifices and much self- 
denial ; and sometimes they had to endure even sufferings 50 
and persecutions. She had with great joy observed, that 
he had come more often of late, and had frequently asked 
her about the teachings of the Saviour. She could not 
but see how earnestly he had listened to her, when she 
explained to him the moral wrong of the Indian's pledge 
to keep from the Spaniards the knowledge of the cure 
for the fever. And finally she had noted the deep impression 
made upon him by the words of the Saviour: "Bless them 
which curse you; do good to them which hate you and 
persecute you." She well knew his earnest manner in 
which he would often ponder over a matter for a long 
time, if it interested him. All these things supported her 
in that hope in which she daily prayed to her God and 
Saviour, and in the confidence that her prayers would 
be heard. 
However, a week rolled by and he did not return. 
The disease of Cinchon and Dolores made slow but steady 
progress, and still there came no help. Her anxiety in- 
creased day by day. Often she would wring her hands 
as if in despair, and her prayers were a wrestling of the 
soul with her Lord. 
A hundred times she resolved to go to her father, and 
a hundred times she had to give up her purpose. She 
was a hostage for her people, and well she knew the 
dreadful consequences of such a step, which would be 
looked upon as flight, as breaking her pledge. And who 
would nurse the sick while she was away ? The "duenna" 
of her friend Dolores was an old woman, unable even with 
the best of will, to nurse both patients, and she felt that 
she could not entrust so sacred and responsible an office 
to the negro slaves. They were slaves and lacked the 
self sacrificing love, which alone made one competent for 
such a service. 
Ah, Hualma had no idea of the battles Huahamac 51 
had to fight. He had been brought up in the religion 
and customs of his fathers, and never once had the 
thought entered his mind that it was wrong to take 
that oath, which wa3 part of the usages of his people, 
and which was rooted in their hatred of the Spaniards, 
their merciless oppressors. 
He had already departed from the ways of his people 
when he began going to the missions to listen to the words 
of the preachers. According to the views of his people 
he was already faithless because he loved and honored 
a Spaniard. And yet - could he refuse to follow 
his conscience and his clear understanding? He had him- 
self known two noble Spaniards, the excellent Las Casas, 
whom his father already had honored, and the virey 
together with his pure, angelic daughter Dolores. This 
had struck root in his heart, and he began to search for 
other good points with the missionaries, which would be 
in favor of the Spaniards. But he was compelled to bury 
such opinions deep in his own heart, and he did it most 
successfully. To these things came his conversations with 
Hualma, which introduced a kindling fire into his soul. 
He sought solitude in order to ponder over many questions 
and to gain clearness, to come to some conclusion. He 
was entirely occupied with these things, until at last the 
highest Spirit broke all fetters, and out of his severe 
conflicts, he emerged a victor. 
Now he set out for the place where those remarkable 
trees grew. The way was long, and the dangers for hirn 
were great, since none of his own tribe must have any- 
suspicion of his intentions. Already the priests were 
watching him. They were wroth with him, because he so; 
often went to Lima to the palace of the virey; they all 
knew about the illness of the virey and his daughter. 
H.e bad an excellent ex,cuse foy going to the palace.. 52 
His only daughter was there and his heart urged him 
to seek her, to be where she was. But because he knew 
himself watched, it was a good thing that for so long a 
time he had not been at Lima. He would have to try 
to get the feverbark, as the Indians called their remedy, 
into Hualma's hands as cautiously as possible, and then 
avoid Lima and any intercourse of the virey's palace 
for a long time. 
There came a dark night during the foggy season. 
Hualma in her anxiety had retired to her room for a few 
minutes, while the "duenna" watched in the sick-room. 
She leaned her weary head against the windowpane, and 
the grief of her soul found vent in her sighs and tears. 
Suddenly she heard the door of her room open almost 
noiselessly. Quickly turning about she inquired: "Who 
is it?" ' 
"I," answered Huahamac in the Peruvian language. 
She at once recognized the sound of her father's voice, 
and hastened to him to throw her arms around his neck. 
"Have you come at last?" she cried. "Do you at last 
bring me help ?" 
"I have brought it," Huahamac answered softly, as 
he placed a small package in her hand. Then he gently 
loosed her arms and said: "My time is short, let us speak 
of the 'most necessary things. You know well the conditions. 
You are aware that if it becomes known that I have given 
you the remedy my life is forfeited. No one, not even 
the patients, nor the "duenna", must know from whom 
you have received the bark. The "duenna" must not even 
know that you are administering it, for old women are 
talkative. Make the virey and Dolores solemnly promise 
to be absolutely silent about the matter. The doctors also 
must not be permitted to suspect its use. Let them think 
that their 'miserable remedies have saved the patients. 53 
Never forget for a moment that your father's life is at 
stake." 
He then gave her specific instructions about the proper 
use of the remedy. Once more he embraced her and 
kissed her on the forehead. 
''Do not worry/' said he, ''if you should not see me 
for the next six months. Precaution forbids my coming 
to you for a long time." 
With these words he glided through the door like a 
shadow and was gone. The overjoyed girl fell upon her 
knees and gave thanks to the Lord, who had made all 
things well. She commended her father to the care of 
the all-merciful God, and prayed for His blessing upon 
the remedy. Then she hurried away to the patients. 
It was an easy matter to persuade the "duenna" to 
leave the sick-room. The old woman had been up with 
the patients the previous night, in order to give the girl 
a chance to get some rest after the many nights she had 
spent in watching. And so Hualma urged her to go and 
get a little sleep. 
After the "duenna" had gone, Hualma told the virey 
and his daughter everything her father had said. 
A new courage entered into the hearts of these two 
who had believed themselves hopelessly ill. They cheer- 
fully promised to keep the secret inviolate. Both at once 
took a dose of the remedy with an eagerness, which in 
itself seemed to offer a guarantee for a good result. 
The two physicians who had been treating the patients, 
came once more late that evening. They were amazed at 
the change in the condition of their charges. They had 
last seen them utterly hopeless, they found them full of 
hope. They had been deeply despondent, and were now 
cheerful to a degree which they had not expected. 
They, of course, ascribed this to the medicines they 54 
Had employed. They left with the urgent injunction to 
most carefully continue their use. They extended the 
comfort, that although the physical condition of their 
patients did not seem to be much improved, yet their 
spirits had revived, which was an excellent sign, and the 
sure proof that they had found the proper remedy at last. 
It was necessary to leave them under this illusion. 
Hualma now began to pour away the medicines in the 
measure in which she ought to have administered them. 
Naturally however, she gave the patients nothing by way 
of treatment, except the remedy of her father, and strictly 
in accordance with the directions he had given her. 
The continued use of the dry, powdered Peruvian bark 
soon showed itself effective. Aided by their renewed 
courage, the spirits of the patients wonderfully revived. 
The fevers daily grew less severe in their attacks, and 
strength returned visibly. With these favorable symptoms 
cheerfulness and confidence increased, and the improve- 
ment was so steady as to leave no doubt of a speedy 
recovery. 
The two physicians were jubilant over the success 
of their treatment, and loudly boasted of it throughout 
Lima. The constant intercourse between the Indians and 
the citizens of the capitol, made it impossible to confine 
this astounding news to Lima. The Indians wondered 
greatly, but no one for an instant suspected Huahamac, 
who had not been in the city since long before the recovery 
of the virey and his .daughter. When he heard the news 
his heart rejoiced, and he gave thanks to the God his 
daughter worshipped, and Whom he was also trying to find. 55 
CHAPTER VI. 
The virey and his daughter were very highly respected 
and much beloved by the citizens of Lima and in fact 
of all the Spanish settlements in Peru, when they therefore, 
as soon as they were permitted to go out again, took their 
way to the cathedral to thank God for their recovery, the 
occasion was made a festival of rejoicing by great throngs. 
The Plaza Major was crowded with men and women 
and children of all classes on that Sunday morning. After 
the long period of fog, the sun also for the first time 
again broke through. Everyone was anxious to see the 
two, who had been healed in so wonderful a manner, 
and to give them a proof of the general rejoicing at their 
recovery. 
The virey stepped from the great door of the palace; 
Dolores walked at his right, and Hualma at his left. The 
two convalescents appeared healthy, even though they still 
showed traces of the serious and protracted illness through 
which they had passed. All eyes were turned toward them 
as they issued from the palace, and a great shout from, 
the people greeted them, while the sound of the mighty 
cathedral bells mingled with the joyous greetings of the 
people. Cinchon waved his thanks, bowing in every direct- 
ion, and the expression of his face showed how much he 
was pleased with this demonstration of the kindly feeling 
of the populace for him. The three had now reached the 
Plaza, where the people formed a passage-way for them. 
A great number of young girls of the best families of the 
city came forward, carrying neat baskets filled with 
flowers, which they strewed over the way. Thus they 
crossed the square. At the entrance of the cathedral they 56 
were received by the archbishop of Lima and many priests. 
After they had taken their places in the choir, and the 
people had streamed in, filling every bit of space in the 
great sanctuary, the solemn services began. After the 
religious ceremonies were over, the three were escorted 
back to the palace under the same ovations with which 
they had been received. At the palace the city officials 
had assembled themselves and formally extended their 
congratulations to the virey. Far into the night the visits 
continued of those who desired to extend personal con- 
gratulations, while upon the square the people made 
holiday, giving expression to their joy by singing and 
dancing. 
It was late when the virey at last entered his apart- 
ments accompanied by two negroes bearing candles. His 
first glance fell upon an Indian standing in the silent, 
dignified attitude characteristic of his race. Cinchon at 
once recognized Huahamac. He quickly dismissed the 
negroes, then hastened toward the Indian, and threw his 
arms about him in a long embrace, for in the fulness 
of his heart, he found it impossible to utter a word. 
Huahamac was deeply affected by this proof of sincere 
gratefulness, such as no Indian ever before had received 
from the haughty Spaniards. 
Only after he had recovered his selfcontrol, was 
Cinchon able to give expression to the feelings, which 
filled his heart, and out of whose fulness his mouth now 
ran over. 
"Ah, I know how to appreciate what you have done 
for me,'' he cried, "and never, never shall I forget it." 
"Do not thank me," replied the Indian deeply moved, 
"but let my people reap the fruit of your kindness. 
Continue to treat them kindly, and they will bless your 
name, and it shall be deeply engraven upon their hearts." 57 
Cirichon promised this with a solemn and sacred vow. 
"But you," he said, "you are the saviour of my child 
and myself!" 
Again he threw his arms about the Indian, warmly 
embracing him. Then he summoned Dolores and Hualma. 
The latter had been anxiously looking about for her 
father, without having been able to discover him. Now 
she found him just as Dolores, having seized his hand, 
covered it with tears of gratefulness. At a glance she saw- 
how deeply he was affected, and she too threw her arms 
about him in affectionate embrace. 
These scenes moved Cinchon more deeply than all 
the congratulations which he had received. The four sat 
together until after midnight, when Huahamac tore 
himself away, in order to return to his home among 
the mountains. 
It was a grand, happy day which Cinchon had passed, 
and his soul was filled with holy impulses. He again vowed 
before his God to solemnly keep the promises he had given 
Huahamac, ,and he did keep them even under the most 
trying conditions. 
He very frequently communicated with Huahamac, 
although the chief came to him only secretly, and ever 
departed under cover of the night. 
He learned from him many things about which he had 
before vainly sought to fully inform himself. Huahamac 
was thoroughly acquainted with the condition of his people, 
especially in their relations with the Spaniards. The virey 
became acquainted through the chief with many deep- 
rooted abuses, and he saw how cruelly the Indians had 
been treated. He saw how the causes of bloody wars were 
to be sought on the side of the Spaniards alone. This 
information led him to devise new legal measures for the 
protection of the Indians and for the prevention of violence, 58 
which the Spaniards were constantly committing against 
the natives, because heretofore the guilty ones had never 
been punished, but the blame had always been put upon 
the Indians. This had led more than one of his predecessors 
to commit acts of cruelty, even though otherwise gentle 
in their rule. But these acts only deepened the hatred 
against the Spaniards, and after awhile another one of 
those bloody conflicts would break out, such as he had 
himself experienced, whereby the misery of the Indians 
however, was merely increased. 
But these laws and regulations for the protection of 
the Indians, which filled them with gratefulness, had the 
opposite effect upon the Spaniards. The more the Indians 
honored and revered the virey, the deeper grew the hatred 
of the Spaniards against him. Their acts of violence and 
their cruelty were prompted by their greed for gold. 
Their sole purpose for coming to America, was to grow 
rich quickly, and they could only expect to succeed in 
this, if they could force the peaceable Indians to serve 
them in the attainment of this object. 
It was seldom that one of the earlier vireys of Peru 
had been guided by humane principles in his government, 
as a rule, they were no better than the fortune-hunters, 
who flocked to this land of promise. 
Cinchon was a man of a different character. He was 
a Christian with all his heart and soul, and therefore full 
of mercy and love for his fellow-beings. This fundamental 
trait of his character showed itself in all his measures, and 
prompted the formulating of the laws, which he issued by 
virtue of his power; It is true, that in the first years of his 
administration, this did not show itself so much, because 
he was not yet thoroughly acquainted with conditions as 
they really were. It thus happened that he was much 
beloved in Lima because of his mild rule. The peace, 59 
which the city of Lima, and in fact, all the Spanish settle- 
ments enjoyed since his coming, and the firmness with 
which the late insurrection of the Indians had been quelled, 
all deepened this regard for the virey, which found such 
a generous expression in the ovations brought him after 
his recovery. But now he learned the true state of affairs, 
through the trustworthy descriptions of Huahamac. With 
characteristic energy he at once set about to devise means 
for the relief of the shamefully oppressed nation. It had 
always been the custom to slander unpopular vireys at 
the court of Madrid. This was the more easy, because 
the king of Spain very reluctantly placed his power in 
the new world, in the hands of a virey, and consequently 
was mistrustful and jealous to a marked degree. Whether 
the charges brought were purely invented or not, he never 
took the time to investigate. But if ,at any time there was 
an investigation, it was entrusted to some individual, whose 
position entitled him to the succession in the office, so 
that it was most natural to find the charges sustained. 
There was no other way for such an individual to attain 
his desired object, namely to sit in the virey's place. 
And the favor of the fickle people ever turned to the 
new ruler. 
This plan had been tried too often since the days of 
Pizarro, not to suggest itself now. The virey had shown 
himself as a friend of the Indians, and the favor of the 
people turned from him, nay was changed jnto its very 
opposite. 
The citizens of Lima had a natural inclination for 
plotting and conspiring, and they did not hesitate an 
instant to use every means to stop the virey's plan. They 
seemed to be convinced that if he continued along his 
lines, in a few years, instead of being benefitted and 
enriched, they would be empoverished and destroyed. 60 
This was enough to cause them to cast their full hatred 
upon Don Cinchon. 
And so these lying accusations, these slanders against 
the virey were sent to Spain. The weightiest charge against 
him was, that he favored the Indians because they had 
bribed him, having brought him immeasurable wealth in 
gold. They said, that he considered only his own advantage; 
that he was as severe with the Spaniards, as he was lenient 
with the Indians. They intimated that his plan was, with 
the aid of the Indians, to make himself independent .of 
Spain as ruler of Peru. 
Thus the seeds of distrust and jealousy were sown 
at the court of the king of Spain, and the accursed seed 
fell upon a ground very favorable to the slanderers. 
In Spain they did not dare to proceed against the virey 
in the manner which had been customary since the days 
of Columbus, the discoverer of America, for they had to 
consider his high position, and his powerful and wealthy 
family. Every ship arriving from Callao however, brought 
fresh reports, until there appeared to be sufficient material 
upon which to base a serious charge against Cinchon. 
They were only too ready and willing at the court of 
Madrid, to receive these accusations, which were constantly 
arriving from Lima, as pure, unadulterated truth. However, 
in order at least to preserve the appearance of justice, the 
whole case against the virey of Peru was referred to the 
Castilian tribunal for careful investigation. This was a 
course of proceedure, which invariably led to the result 
desired by the king. They never thought of asking the 
virey to answer the charges brought against him, or if it 
was thought of, they never considered it worth while to 
act accordingly. The verdict against him was formulated; 
he was to be recalled, and only upon his arrival at Madrid 
was he once more to be tried before a tribunal of justice. 61 
However, the tremendous distance separating Lima and 
Madrid, and the long time required by the slow-sailing 
vessels of that day to make the trip, caused years to pass 
before the charges were in, and the verdict rendered, and 
finally published at Lima. The virey had no intimation 
of what had been so treacherously plotted against him. 
Actuated by the dictates of his noble heart, he continued 
along the course he had set himself to follow. Without] 
the least consideration for the name or the station of the 
offenders; whoever was guilty of violence against the 
Indians, was delivered over to the punishment prescribed 
by the law. By such strict measures he called down upon 
himself the hatred of those whom he had punished, while 
he lost the last bit of favor with the people. This change 
of public feeling began soon after his recovery. It was 
carefully kept from him however, and all the more certain 
he fell into the pit which had been dug for him. 
Popular favor is a most uncertain thing, and no age 
forms an exception in this particular. Who would ever 
have believed that the people would so soon have tried 
every means to destroy that man, whom they had brought 
such grand ovations upon his first visit to the cathedral 
after his convalescence? 
The problem is simply and easily solved. With those 
laws which Cinchon had enacted for the protection of the 
Indians, he touched the selfishness of his people, indeed 
he touched their very hearts. But it is one of the sadest 
experiences of life, that the so-called good friendships 
among men find their deepest roots and their limits as 
well in selfishness. As long as you extend certain privileges 
and advantages to a man, he is your friend; but the 
moment these privileges are withdrawn, his friendship for 
you not only will cease, but somehow he gets an idea, 
that these advantages are being purposely withheld, and 62 
a bitter hatred and enmity may take the place of his 
former friendship. This is a common experience, and has 
been a cause for complaint in all times. 
This is what Cinchon now had to experience. The 
Spaniards had been highly pleased at the peace, whose 
blessings they enjoyed, at the security they felt since the 
Indians had been so completely conquered, and now humbly 
bowed before their victors. At first they were inclined 
to overlook the virey's exceptionally favorable attitude 
toward the Indians, because of the advantages which they 
enjoyed, and because he was very lenient with them also, 
and showed no trace of that haughty spirit, which demanded 
of everyone to bow low before him, because the virey 
was to Peru, what the king was to Spain. 
But all the sharper was their change of feeling toward 
him after his recovery, when it became apparent that he 
not only had firmly decided to break the Spaniards of 
their brutality against the natives, but showed openly his 
friendship for the Indians, whom he offered advantages 
upon every occasion. Those who held influential positions 
in Lima were soon filled with bitter hatred, and they were 
followed by the subordinate officials. They were joined 
by the monks .of the mission stations, who also had to 
sacrifice many privileges which they had formerly enjoyed, 
and who well knew that the cause for the changed con- 
ditions lay with Cinchon. 
This hatred not only fell upon the virey, but also 
upon Huahamac. It was believed that to his friendly 
intercourse with the virey, the latter's favorable attitude 
toward the Indians was to be attributed. It was also 
believed, that from the chief the virey learned of the acts 
of violence perpetrated by individual Spaniards upon the 
Indians. The more Huahamac was honored and beloved 
by his people, who well knew what they owed him, the. 63 
deeper grew the hatred of the Spaniards against him 
They did not dare to get their revenge openly, because 
they feared the vindictive hatred of the Indians, and so 
they sought secret ways of getting their satisfaction, which 
brought them success more surely than Huahamac would 
have dreamed. 
Perhaps jealousy is nowhere to be found to a greater 
degree than among the serving class. The favor, real or 
imaginary, shown one before the others, is ground for 
bitter hatred, whose source is envy. 
The relation of Hualma to Dolores was sisterly, toward 
the virey it was that of a child. This aroused envy and 
hatred with the servants of the virey's household. They 
saw in her only the Indian. That reverence of the Peruvians 
for one in whose veins ran the blood of the Incas, who 
was a member of the ruling family, found no place in the 
soul of a negro from Africa. And this enmity eventually 
delivered her over into the hands of Cinchon's enemies. 
With jealous eyes they regarded Hualma, to whom 
they would concede only the condition of slavery, so long 
as she abode in Lima as an hostage. The higher she rose 
in the estimation of the virey and his daughter, the deeper 
grew the hatred against her. The "duenna" already 
advanced in years, was not proof against this. As the 
love of Dolores for Hualma deepened, she felt her influence 
wane, and her heart turned away from Hualma to the 
slaves. The "duenna" knew the legend of the Indians 
concerning the remedy for the fever. She knew of the 
solemn oath of the Indians, for she was the most con- 
fidential servant of the virey's family. It is possible also, 
that she played eavesdropper, when .Huahamac and the 
virey met after the latter's convalescence. She would not 
have considered that a wrong against her enemy. At any 
rate, she openly declared, and quite positively too, that 64 
Hualma must have received the remedy from her father, 
whose extraordinary effect was the cause of the recovery 
of the virey and his daughter Dolores. With this statement 
there agreed what was told by one of the negroes, who 
said, that on the night preceding the remarkable 
improvement in the condition of the patients, he had 
seen Huahamac secretly enter the palace, hand a small 
parcel to Hualma, and then disappear again. 
There was not an individual in the servant's hall of 
the palace, who had any doubt whatever, but that 
Huahamac had broken the Indians' oath. These secret 
enemies of Hualma knew perfectly well, that they could 
not undertake anything against her personally, but the 
hateful old Spanish "duenna" conceived a diabolical plan. 
She would drive a sword into the soul of the girl, by 
the almost certain murder of her father by the Indians. 
This was to be her revenge, because she imagined that 
Hualma had crowded her out of her place of intimacy 
with Dolores. Her vile plan was at once put into operation. 
Through the Indians who regularly came to Lima to 
market, she hoped to scatter the seeds of hatred against 
Huahamac among the people of his tribe, dwelling in the 
heart of the distant mountains. The negroes were at once 
ready to serve the old woman with all their trickery and 
treachery, for they were anxious to destroy Hualma, whom 
in their envy they hated, although she had never harmed 
one of them. 
The plan pursued by these plotters was far-reaching, 
but sure. Count Cinchon's negroes knew how to put 
themselves into communication with the Indians. In the 
most harmless manner they related to them as if it had 
been a fact, the story they had so artfully put together, 
and its effects was all the more sure. Thus there gathered 
a dangerous cloud over the head of Huahamac, of which 65 
he had not the least intimation, and at the same time one 
of the best viceroys of Peru was in danger of being undone. 
Although the persecution of these two was being pursued 
independently by the enemies of each, it really sprang 
from the same root. The secret slander against Cinchon 
took a longer time to accomplish its end, because it had 
to make use of various channels, because the distance 
between Peru and Spain was so great, and the means 
of communication so scant. On the other hand the plot 
against Lluahamac promised to develop much more quickly, 
and actually did. But as the hand of the Almighty is 
everywhere the surest and safest protection, so it was 
evidently over Huahamac, who was to be the instrument 
through which God planned to bestow infinite blessings 
upon men, both here and beyond the seas. 
CHAPTER VII. 
It was an easy matter to enter into communication 
with the Indians who daily brought fruit to the market 
at Lima, and the negroes together with their friends and 
accomplices, did not delay putting the "duenna's" plan 
into operation. At first the Indians seemed to pay little 
attention to the gossip of the negroes, but when they 
repeated the story at home, a different face was put upon 
the matter. Long since it had been suspected, that 
Huahamac inclined to the religion of the Spaniards as 
Hualma had done, who became a Christian. The frequent 
visits to the virey, and more still his constant visits to 
the mission, confirmed this suspicion. This was reason 66 
sufficient for the priests to give credence to the story, 
which the Indians, who had been to market, brought home 
from Lima. They were shrewd enough not to confide to 
the Indians their opinions, but whenever an opportunity 
afforded, they communicated the story to the tribal chiefs. 
A secret meeting of the chiefs and priests was 
thereupon held. Breaking the oath was a crime among 
the Indians, which brought certain death; but in the eyes 
of his people, Huahamac was a sacred person. He belonged 
to the few descendants of the Incas, was the oldest of 
them in fact, and in the eyes of the Indians, undisputed 
ruler of all Peru, to whom all were subject. They certainly 
could not be careless in dealing with so grave an accusation 
in his case. They therefore determined, first of all to 
carefully investigate, and if sufficient evidence were found 
to 'warrant it, to call Huahamac to account. In their natural 
devotion to the Inca, the people refused to believe the 
charge of the priests, whom they knew to be greedy for 
power, and they resented the way in which their chief 
was being attacked. On the other hand the priests did 
not give up their plan to destroy Huahamac. They had 
a deep-rooted suspicion of his faithlessness toward the 
religion of his people. This was the ground of their hatred. 
Huahamac learned nothing of the hostile plans, 
at least, so his adversaries thought; but their plan, like 
so many founded on absolute secrecy, was not so sure 
as they imagined. 
An Indian, the son of a chief, had grown up with 
Huahamac, who had lost his parents early, during a 
persecution by the Spaniards. This man was supposed to 
succeed his father as chieftain. 
Between Huahamac and this Indian there existed a 
deep friendship, which up to this time, had stood every 
test, and never been dimmed. The old chief was still 67 
living, but he had become childish from age, and his son, 
Huahamac's friend, while not yet actually chief of his 
tribe, represented his father in the councils. 
He was much disturbed by the charge against 
Huahamac. He alone thoroughly knew the Inca. He 
knew better than any of them, of what things Huahamac 
was capable, when his fidelity was put to the test. Once 
he had been wounded unto death in a battle with the 
Spaniards, and Huahamac had saved his life, by carrying 
the wounded man for miles upon his shoulders, far into 
the safety of the mountains, until exhausted, he fell in 
a faint, where other Indians found them. That experience 
this true and faithful man had not forgotten, for his 
grateful heart would not permit it. When he thought of 
Huahamac's love for his child, for the virey, and for the 
Donna Dolores, he knew that for these he would be 
capable of bringing any sacrifice. When therefore, he 
learned in the secret council, that the virey and Dolores 
had lain at death's door, and when he recalled what 
Huahamac had said to him about the oath of the Indians, 
it became clear to his mind, that the Inca had done from 
motives of pure love, that thing of which he was accused. 
He wisely kept these thoughts, to himself however, and 
determined to speak with Huahamac, and if it were true, 
then he would do by him, as Huahamac had done by him 
years ago, when he had saved his life. 
A few weeks later Huahamac was sitting before the 
door of his hut, enjoying the delightful coolness of a 
mild evening. The evening breezes wafted over to him 
marvellous perfumes from the blossoming trees and shrubs 
of the nearlying hills. The little brook, which ran into 
the valley over a steep incline just opposite his hut, sang 
its song, and with it were mingled the voices of the 
birds awakening to new life, after the moderating of the 68 
intense heat of the day. Half dreaming, half waking, 
his thoughts were busy with his beloved child, who 
unfortunately, was compelled still to remain in Lima by 
the provisions of the treaty of peace. 
Suddenly he heard the leaves softly rustling by his 
side. Only the ear of an Indian could have detected the 
sound. Huahamac drew himself up. His hand seized the 
tomahawk. In those times no Indian was without his 
tomahawk at any time, for he was never safe from the 
bitter persecutions of the Spaniards. At the same instant 
he observed an Indian who, having come out of the woods, 
soon stood before him. It was his foster-brother. 
"Just let your tomahawk rest," said the Indian with 
a smile as he drew near. Huahamac again quietly lay 
down upon the soft moss, and a few moments later the 
Indian lay beside him. 
"Huahamac," said he, "do you remember how you 
carried me out of the thick of the battle, and regardless 
of your own danger, saved my life ?" 
"Those are things of the past," replied Huahamac, 
"one ought not to speak of them any longer." 
"But they ought not to be forgotten either," returned 
the other, "so that one may not forget what is due the 
friend, when the time has come to make return." 
Huahamac raised himself quickly. His penetrating- 
glance fixed itself upon the face of the Indian. 
"What do these words mean?" he asked, "I am not 
on the war path, and neither are you." 
"There are paths much more dangerous than the 
warpath," said the Indian. "Upon the warpath you arc 
able to defend yourself against your enemy. This you 
can not do when a treacherous snake uncoils itself behind 
you, without your seeing it, in order to bury its fangs 
in your body." 69 
"I see no venomous serpent," cried Huahamac in 
astonishment. 
''Perhaps it is all the more dangerous for that reason," 
returned his friend. 
''But I do not understand you, my brother! Speak 
plainly, that I may know what kind of an enemy you 
mean," said Huahamac. 
"You frequently go to the missions," said the Indian. 
"It is true," was Huahamac's brief reply. 
"You are being watched," continued his friend. 
"I know it," said Pluahamac with a disdainful curl 
of his lip. 
"They are watching you, and suspect you of falling 
away from the faith of the fathers. Hualma, your child, 
a daughter of the Incas, has already done this thing," 
continued the Indian. 
"And did not Huascar, a son of the Incas, do the 
same thing before her?" asked Huahamac. 
"He did, and he became estranged from his people. 
You are the rightful head of our nation. Do you consider, 
why you are watched, why suspicions have been aroused, 
and why they are beginning to mistrust you?" said the 
Indian in a low tone. 
Huahamac remained silent for a time, as if in deep 
thought. 
"Since when is it forbidden an Inca to investigate 
the teachings of another people? To whom is he account- 
able for this ?" he said quietly but firmly. 
"To no one, Huahamac, my brother," answered the 
Indian, lowering his head; "but the priests demand of 
an Inca, the head of the nation, that he be true to the 
faith of the fathers. This can not be unknown to you." 
"Are you saying these things of yourself?" asked 
Huahamac pointedly. "Is this your opinion also?" 70 
"Yes, and no, as you will have it," replied his friend. 
"I tell you this, because my love for you prompts me to 
speak openly to you. I tell you also, however, because 
the priests have held a meeting of the tribal chiefs, in 
which they charged you with this thing. You must know 
the plans of your opponents, I will not call them enemies." 
Huahamac leaped to his feet excitedly. In his hand 
he clenched his tomahawk. His eyes flashed in hot anger. 
"You called and held a meeting without me? You 
took counsel without me, and without hearing me?" he 
cried in angry excitement. 
"It was done," calmly answered the Indian, "because 
another grave accusation was raised against you, a charge 
which I scarcely dare to mention, because its truth would 
arm the hands of your opponents against you, openly and 
secretly. Your life would be forfeited for breaking faith, 
and for breaking our solemn oath." 
The Indian looked at him sharply as he said this, 
yet, even though the consciousness of his guilt made his 
heart beat faster for a moment, the keen eye of the Indian 
could discover no trace of emotion in Huahamac's face. 
"Speak out," said Huahamac with a firm voice. 
"It is claimed," said the Indian, that you brought 
our secret remedy to the virey and his daughter, or 
rather that you gave it to your daughter Hualina, and 
by its use, both of them, already at the verge of the 
grave, were healed in a wonderful manner." 
"Who says that?" asked Huahamac in an almost 
careless tone. 
"The priests," replied the Indian. 
"And what is the source of their information?" asked 
Huahamac in the same careless tone. 
"One of the black slaves of the virey claims, that he 
saw you secretly enter the palace under the cover of 71 
darkness, and go to the apartment of your daughter, to 
whom you gave a package. He says, that you gave Hualma 
careful instructions concerning the use of the medicine, 
and on the following day the patients showed a marked 
improvement." 
Huahamac was silent a moment, then he proudly 
raised his head. 
''If a man were convinced of the right of his action, 
would the oath forbid giving the remedy to a Spaniard, 
or does it forbid revealing its nature and the source 
whence it is obtained?" he asked. 
The Indian was evidently surprised by the question. 
He stared at the ground before him and remained silent 
for a long time. He carefully proved the oath which he 
also had sworn, and after a calm consideration of the 
matter, he came to the conclusion, that the oath merely 
forbade revealing the nature of the remedy to the Spaniards, 
but it said nothing about giving the powder, so long as 
its nature remained a secret. His better knowledge and 
his conscience compelled the Indian to give a negative 
answer to the question. An expression of great joy came 
over his face. Leaping to his feet, he cried: 
''No, Huahamac, no, the oath does not speak of that." 
''Come along then," said the Inca, ''let us call a 
council of the chiefs." 
"You are right," replied the Indian. As night began 
to fall, the two wjere seen entering the forest with hasty 
strides. 
Three days later the chiefs were assembled about 
their head priest. A gigantic magnolia stood in the middle 
of their place of meeting, among whose dark, glossy 
leaves hung the rosy fruit, giving the tree a most beautiful 
appearance. 
Against its smooth trunk, leaned Huahamac, the Inca. 72 
His bow was slung over his shoulder, and upon his back 
hung the quiver, made of the fibres of the palm. In his 
right hand he held a large, magnificently ornamented 
tomahawk, while his left grasped a half dozen light, slender 
spears. Upon his head he wore a gaudy crown of parrot- 
feathers. 
He was tall in stature, perfect in proportion, and 
extraordinarily muscular. The color of his skin was much 
lighter than that of the other Peruvians, and this color, 
approaching that of the Spaniards, was the unmistakable 
sign of his descent from the Incas. The expression of his 
face was earnest, nay almost forbidding. His bushy eye- 
brows were drawn together, and from under them his 
eyes flashed forth, bringing almost a terror to the hearts 
of some upon whom his piercing glance fell. All the chiefs 
had answered the call. Silently they sat at the feet of the 
man, to whom they all conceded the right to rule over 
them. 
At length Huahamac raised himself to his full height 
with as much pride in his manner, as natural dignity. His 
flashing eyes swept around the circle of expectant chiefs 
and priests. Then he began to speak, and his voice sounded 
like the deep roll of distant thunder, but the longer he 
spoke, the richer and fuller it grew. In the sharpest terms 
he rebuked them for having broken the custom of their 
people, the hallowed usage since time immemorial, in that 
they had dared to call and hold a council against, and 
without the knowledge of the Inca. His words fell like 
bolts of lightning. They lowered their eyes before him, 
and even the priests felt, that the sword of vengeance 
hung over them by a hair. With inward satisfaction 
Huahamac noted the effect of his words. 
Without pronouncing any further judgment excepting 
the severest condemnation of their action, for which he 73 
also sharply rebuked them, he proceeded to take up the 
second point, that they had dared to sit in judgment over 
him without giving him the least opportunity to defend 
himself. 
His words fell heavily upon the men sitting around 
in the circle. Shame and the consciousness, that they 
had deserved such chiding, nay crushing words, were 
written upon every face. Everyone keenly felt how com- 
pletely Huahamac had the right on his side. 
He was silent for a few moments, then in somewhat 
higher tone which he gradually lowered as he proceeded, 
he expressed his deep contempt, because they had caused 
his steps to be watched by spies. This struck home with 
the priests. With an expression of profound grief he asked: 
"Since when is the Inca of Peru deprived of his 
freedom? Since when is it commanded that a father's 
heart is to be closed against love for his child?" 
As he said this his voice trembled. The effect was 
most stirring. All eyes were fixed upon the man, whose 
life and deeds appeared spotless before them, and in these 
eyes he read approval. 
Suddenly he raised his voice to its full power, and 
stepping into the centre of the circle he cried: 
"Stand forth, ye enemies of mine, ye who charge 
me with gravest fault of all, with having broken the oath! 
Stand forth, and freely and openly say whereof ye have 
secretly accused me to the chiefs 1" 
He laid down his bow, the quiver, spears and tomahawk 
in the circle, and taking .off his crown of feathers, placed 
it upon them. Then he cried with a voice of thunder: 
"Come forth, come forth with your charge that I have 
broken the oath! Here I have laid down the symbols of 
my honor, and I shall not touch them again, if I am found 
guilty." 74 
The priests trembled, fearing to look into his face, 
but not one of them moved. As if by magic, however, all 
the chiefs leaped to their feet and cried: 
"Take up again the hallowed symbols of your 
honorable office. We are not your judges, but you are 
ours. Hail to the Inca Huahamac. Death and destruction 
to all slanderous tongues 1" 
Each one of the tribal chiefs made haste to seize one 
of the articles laid aside by Huahamac, and approaching 
him, to offer it to him. 
For a time Huahamac hesitated, then however, he 
again received the weapons and the crown of feathers, 
and with a firm voice he said: 
"Very well then, I will do as you request." 
"Render judgment!" cried the chiefs deeply 
moved. 
"No," said Huahamac, "no. The stain is not yet 
removed from me, even though they lack the courage to 
tell me to my face, what they charged me with in secret, 
I shall do it myself. Hear me!" 
He again stepped back under the leafy roof of the 
magnolia, under which he had been standing at the opening 
of the council. He began to tell them of all the kindness 
and affection which the noble virey and Donna Dolores 
had bestowed upon his daughter Hualma, who, although 
she had accepted the faith of the Christians, was never- 
theless his only child, the treasure of his soul. He described 
the violent illness which had seized upon them both, and 
showed them how they must inevitably have died of the 
fever. He placed before them the manner of the virey, and 
laid stress upon the duty of gratefulness toward the man 
who had proved himself ever a friend of the Indians, and 
their greatest benefactor. He pictured the noble soul of 
the man with an enthusiasm, which deeply moved the 75 
hearts of the listeners. He then pointed out, that if Cinchon 
had died, probably another one of those inhuman rulers 
would have come to Peru, of whom so many had preceded 
him, since the "Children of the Sun", as the Peruvians 
called the Spaniards, had first come sailing across the 
salt water to the shores of Peru. He described with much 
feeling the scene, when Hualma had knelt before him, 
and implored him to give her the remedy, of which she 
herself was ignorant. 
Then, he continued, he had carefully proven the oath 
which he, which they all had sworn. He found that the 
oath required nothing more, than that no one of his people 
should reveal the remedy to the Spaniards, that no one 
should show them the tree whose bark furnished it; that 
no one should reveal to them the place where it struck 
its roots into the earth. Not one word was said however, 
by which it \vas forbidden to give the self-prepared powder 
to a Spaniard, who, by his kindness to the Indians, had 
merited it, in order to save him from certain death. When 
he had gained this conviction, after severe inner conflicts, 
he had gone into the mountains and had peeled off some 
of the bark of the sacred trees of Pachicamak. He had 
dried the bark and ground it to powder, which he brought 
to Hualma, who was overjoyed to receive it. He had also 
given her some instructions as to the manner in which 
the brownish powder was to be administered. He had 
thereby preserved the benefactor, nay the father of the 
Peruvian people, and for Hualma a loving sister. 
"This is my wrong, if it be one; this is the breaking 
of the oath with which I have been charged. Not one, 
not my dear Hualma, nor the noble virey, nor his child, 
knows what the remedy is, nor where it can be found. I 
have preserved a fatherly heart for my people. This is 
my fault." 76 
He was silent and looked around the circle. Again 
all the chiefs leaped to their feet crying: 
"Hail, hail to the Inca Huahamac! Death to the 
slanderersI" 
"No!" cried Huahamac. "I know that jealousy and 
envy of my dear child, who enjoys the confidence and 
love of Donna Dolores; I know that jealousy and 
envy of me, among those who are in the palace of the 
virey, have determined to destroy both my daughter and 
me. They were very shrewd in selecting the method by 
which to secure belief for their lies. Unfortunately they 
found open ears and hearts, which were not friendly 
disposed toward me. I will judge as my heart dictates. 
I forgive all who have done me wrong." 
He was about to turn and leave the council, but the 
priests approached, and throwing themselves down at his 
feet, they implored: 
"Noble Inca, forgive!" 
"I have forgiven you," said he, and turning away, 
he left the meeting. From a distance, however, he heard 
the cries of approval and the praise of his name. That 
night he slept in his hut, and calmer than for many months. 
CHAPTER VIII. 
Ilualiamac was in doubt a long time, whether to tell 
the vircy, or his daughter Hualma, anything about his 
experiences; however, Hualma occasionally came in contact 
with Peruvians, with whom she was accustomed to speak 
in her dearly beloved mother tongue. In this way she 77 
found out all about the occurence. At first she was greatly 
disturbed by the matter, but her fears were allayed by the 
fortunate outcome. Then she related all the circumstances 
to Dolores, and was happy because the virey's daughter 
highly praised her father's action. 
Thus everything came to the ears of Count Cinchon 
also. When Huahamac came to the palace shortly after, 
the virey drew him into his private room and had a long 
audience with him. Huahamac could not refrain from 
revealing to Cinchon the trickery whereby the old 
"duenna", and the negroes in the virey's employ, had 
hoped to destroy him and his daughter Hualma. 
The soul of a man like Cinchon must be filled with 
deepest loathing by such base treachery. Huahamac earn- 
estly begged him not to follow up this revelation of the 
plot against him and Hualma, because the serpent had 
been made harmless by the breaking out of its poisonous 
fang; but the virey felt that he could not conscientiously 
permit the matter to pass over unnoticed. At first he was 
inclined to send the treacherous old creature back to Spain 
by the first vessel leaving Callao; but Dolores begged 
so warmly for mercy for her "duenna", who was otherwise 
most faithful, and sincerely devoted to her, that he gave 
up this idea. 
The culprit did not, however, escape all punishment. 
The virey summoned her and called her to a severe account. 
She recognized then the wrong she had done, and frankly 
acknowledged it, showing sincere repentance. And so the 
old relations between her and the family were reestablished, 
indeed, the old "duenna" became the instrument, whereby 
Cinchon's eyes were opened to the treachery planned 
against him. 
Dolores had but little intercourse with the ladies of 
the aristocratic families of Lima, the "duenna", however, 78 
cultivated the acquaintance of a great number of women 
belonging to the middle class, who stood nearer her station. 
She frequently called upon them, and they often visited 
her. There was always, of course, a great deal of gossip. 
One of these women, who entertained a particular liking 
for Dolores, during a visit spoke about the feeling of 
animosity to the virey, of which she had learned through 
her husband. 
The "duenna" grew attentive. She began to question 
about the matter, and her talkative friend told her every- 
thing she knew about it. But this was enough to reveal 
the whole dastardly scheme, in which high and low 
were involved, and to show its motive and ultimate 
object. 
It is true, the anger of the virey had deeply humiliated 
the old "duenna", for she had grown up in his family, 
and had carried him in her arms, just as later she had 
carried his daughter Dolores. She was all the more happy 
to show him a service now, whereby she would again 
gain his favor and confidence. With breathless haste she 
returned to the palace. She alone had the privilege to 
enter the virey's apartments unannounced, and so she 
went directly to him. She found him in earnest conversation 
with Huahamac. 
The presence of the Indian disturbed her. 
The virey knew the old woman too well, not to see 
from the anxiety written upon her face and from her 
excited manner, that she had something of grave import- 
ance to communicate to him. 
"Stay here," said he kindly to her; "you can speak 
freely before this man, no matter what it may be that you 
have to tell me." 
She approached and began to tell all she knew. 
The virey listened to her with increasing interest. 79 
Huahamac was more disturbed by the things he heard 
than Cinchon 
"Wretched people!" cried he, "which is innocently 
compelled to furnish weapons against the man, whom it 
praises as its greatest benefactor!" 
"Do not say that, Huahamac," said the vircy deeply 
moved. "How can your unfortunate people be blamed, 
if the wild passions of my countrymen cause them to blame 
me for my gentleness and benevolence? How can they 
be blamed, if my countrymen seek by lying and deceit to 
destroy me, as if I had been injurious to their best 
interests? Did they act any differently toward my 
predecessors ?" 
"But what are you going to do?" asked Huahamac. 
"What course are you going to pursue in order to wrest 
the tomahawk from the hands of your enemies? What 
plan do you propose to follow in order to secure a clear 
trail for justice and right?" 
The virey sat thinking for a while, then he calmly said: 
"There are only three ways open. Either I must 
quietly await the result, or I must write a justification to 
free myself of all the charges they have brought against 
me, or, finally, I must sail at once, in order to go to the 
king in person, and reveal the network of treachery 
against me." 
"If I were permitted to counsel you," said Huahamac 
modestly, "I would advise you to choose the last course. 
It is the surest, and the only one to lead you directly to 
the goal. And I, I shall hasten to my people and call a 
council, so that as a representative I may accompany you, 
in order to testify in the name of the Peruvians, to your 
dealings, and to bear witness to your high and noble spirit." 
The virey looked upon the Inca with deep emotion. 
Then he seized his hand and pressed it warmly. 80 
"I thank you, Huahamac," said he. "This expression 
of your fidelity to me but strengthens the bond of friend- 
ship already existing between us. But I must calmly and 
carefully consider all things before acting. Stay here, or 
come again to-morrow. By that time I will have reached a 
positive decision." 
"Not tomorrow," said Huahamac. "Give me three 
days. They will not matter much." 
The virey agreed to this. The Indian hastened back 
to his mountains, while the virey sent a mounted messenger 
to the captain of a vessel, lying ready to sail in the harbor 
of Callao, in order to detain him, until he should have 
come to a definite conclusion concerning his course of 
action. 
Huahamac had scarcely reached the home of the 
nearest chief, when he sent messengers in every direction, 
in order to call the people to a great council at the well- 
known meeting-place, under the huge magnolia. From 
tribe to tribe flew the messengers of the Inca. On the 
following morning already, great crowds of armed Indians 
could be seen taking their way from the mountains, out 
of the passes and valleys, and encamping in the familiar 
place of meeting. By noun Huahamac was justified in 
considering the council full and could formally open the 
meeting 'with his address. 
His address was remarkable for its simplicity, clearness 
and warmth. He explained the situation to the assembly, 
and reminded them of the obligations they had over against 
the virey, and that their gratefulness to him should urge 
them to bear testimony to the truth. He then declared 
his intention of accompanying the virey across the big 
saltwater, if his people should choose to delegate him. 
He would endeavor to clear their benefactor of the stain, 
which his enemies had tried to fix upon him. As with 81 
one voice, the numerous assembly gave their assent. 
Huahamac had not miscalculated. 
In the meantime, the resolution had become fixed in 
the soul of the virey, to prevent his enemies. He had 
communicated his intentions to Dolores, and given her 
the choice, either to remain in Lima until he should return, 
or to accompany him to Spain. Dolores soon reached her 
decision. She declared, that under no circumstances would 
she permit herself to be separated from her beloved father. 
Hualma was present during this interview between Cinchon 
and his daughter. She was deeply affected by what she 
heard and saw, and when Dolores asked her what she 
would do in the matter, she arose, and placing her hand 
on her heart, she said: 
"Can the earth want the light, without being in 
darkness ? Can the earth lack the quickening and nurturing 
sunlight, without becoming cold and dead ? Where thou 
goest, Hualma will follow, and be it into death." 
Dolores embraced her, with tears in her eyes, and the 
virey kissed her forehead, as he said: 
"Thou most faithful friend!" 
The most necessary preparations were now made for 
the hasty departure. When evening came, Huahamac 
appeared in the full dress of a Peruvian Inca. 
"I come with the full authority of an envoy of the 
people of Peru to the king across the great salt-water," 
he said with dignity. "My mission is to bear testimony to 
the faithfulness and uprightness of the virey. How is it, 
must I make the long voyage alone?" 
"No, my dear friend," answered the virey, heartily 
shaking his hand. "To-night we sail together." 
"But Hualma will accompany us?" Huahamac asked. 
"I need her as my interpreter, since I can but poorly speak 
your native tongue, while she uses it perfectlv." 82 
"Hualma will accompany us," answered the virey, 
"because she will not be separated from Dolores. Go to 
her, so that you may be convinced that it is her own free 
decision." 
Don Perez was announced. He was the most liberal 
of the Spaniards in his position over against the Peruvians, 
and the virey had therefore selected him as his represent- 
ative during his absence. He placed the appointment in 
his hands, and recommended the Peruvians to his kind 
consideration. 
Perez, as well as the whole city of Lima, were suprised 
at the sudden, unexpected departure of the virey. No 
decision had as yet been received from the court at 
Madrid, and yet he sailed for home. Perez, moreover, had 
nothing to do with the intrigues against Cinchon, indeed 
they were unknown to him, because he was numbered with 
the friends of the virey. 
With great astonishment he learned the circumstances 
from Cinchon's lips. He quickly determined to draw up 
a true and honest statement of the facts, before the virey's 
departure, and therefore asked him to put it off until the 
following morning. To this Don Cinchon consented. Perez 
then hastened to carry out what his honest, open soldier- 
heart had prompted him to do. 
A mounted messenger brought the document to the 
virey, just as the vessel in which he, Huahamac, Dolores 
and Hualma had taken passage, was about to sail. A 
favorable wind filled the sails, the prow was turned to the 
open sea. A few hours sailing sufficed to withdraw from 
view the mountains of blood-saturated Peru. 83 
CHAPTER IX. 
Seldom was the dangerous voyage Cinchon had under- 
taken, completed with so little discomfort. There was not 
even a mishap. 
With a certain feeling of uneasiness, the usually brave 
Huahamac and his daughter Hualma, had gone aboard 
the frail vessel. This feeling lingered with them for quite 
a while, and grew stronger when land was lost to view. 
On the open sea they became conscious, more than ever 
before, of the helplessness and feebleness of man. This 
was a most favorable opportunity to show them the bless- 
edness of the Christian faith, which fills the heart of man. 
with confidence toward God. Dolores discharged this office 
of Christian love toward Hualma, while the earnest, deeply 
pious virey did the same toward Huahamac. An aged 
missionary, who had faithfully served his Master among 
the Indians of Peru, was returning to Spain, to spend the 
declining years of his life in well-deserved rest. He thor- 
oughly understood the Peruvian language, and completed 
the holy work. Never had he found a pupil more eager 
to learn the teachings of Jesus, who received them with 
greater clearness of understanding or with more earnest- 
ness, or who was better prepared, than Huahamac. 
Bonifacio daily devoted himself to his holy task of 
instructing his pupil, and one day, as they were nearing 
the coast of Spain, Huahamac said to him: 
"Dear Father, give me, I pray you, the seal of 
communion with Jesus Christ, the blessed sacrament of 
Baptism, so that I may enter the land of the Christians 
as a Christian." 
Highly pleased with the request of the Inca, the 84 
priest consented. Huahamac's knowledge was sufficient, 
his faith was strong and joyous. The solemn ceremony 
took place on the deck of the vessel, which, swimming on 
the deep, formed a strange baptistry. No one was more 
happy over the event, than Huahna, and her dear friend 
and sister Dolores. The relation between Huahamac and 
Don Cinchon grew more intimate still from this time on. 
The Indian and his child were no longer strangers, they 
were members of the count's family. 
A new world was opened to Huahamac and Hualma 
when they landed on the shores of Spain. Everything 
they saw appeared strange, new and wonderful to them. 
They received these new impressions in silence, and only 
when alone with Don Cinchon and Dolores, a thousand 
questions were asked, which the virey and his daughter 
cheerfully answered. 
Don Cinchon had reported his arrival, and that of 
the Inca of Peru, immediately upon landing. He was 
notified, that he was to wait in a city near the capital, 
until he should receive the summons to appear at court. 
This showed him that the slanderous reports of his enemies 
had been only too readily received. In the consciousness 
of his innocence, he willingly submitted to every arrange- 
ment, even though frequently his soul was deeply hurt. 
Nevertheless all the honors due to his office, were 
shown him. The summons to appear at court was long 
delayed. Suddenly however, there came a change. As 
cool as they had formerly been toward him, so warm 
and friendly they now showed themselves. Don Cinchon 
could not understand this sudden change, and yet the 
explanation was very simple. 
Father Bonifacio, although he had never spoken with 
the virey about the matter, was yet fully informed about 
the troubles that compelled him to make the long voyage 85 
to Spain. He knew perfectly the conditions prevailing in 
Lima, and some things which had been dark to him, were 
cleared up by his conversations with Huahamac. Knowing 
what he did, he felt himself compelled to speak a word 
in favor of the much slandered virey. He had learned to 
know him well during the long voyage, and had come 
to esteem and love him. 
As soon as the prior of the cloister to which he 
belonged gave him permission, he hastened to Madrid. It 
was not a difficult matter for him to secure an introduction 
at court. Here he gave his testimony as truthfully, as it 
was strong and emphatic. This produced a profound effect. 
He had to remain upon command of the king, in order 
to repeat his testimony before the Castilian tribunal of 
justice. In the meantime the report of Don Perez was 
received, which was found to correspond almost literally 
with the statements of Father Bonifacio. The slander and 
treachery of Cinchon's enemies were thus unmasked. 
Father Bonifacio also strongly advocated Cinchon's method 
of dealing with the Indians. He also claimed that only 
a mild and gentle treatment of them would secure a firm 
foundation for Spanish rule in Peru. The greed for gold 
and the cruelty of the Spaniards living there, and of those 
who kept coming, would have to be controlled, if this 
object was to be attained, and as well a higher object, 
namely the conversion of the Peruvians to Christianity. 
From his own long experience he showed how the cruel 
treatment of the Indians by the Spaniards, had crippled 
the work of the Christian missions for a long time to come. 
They could only succeed if the government would go 
hand in hand with Don Cinchon and the missionaries in 
their efforts. 
He gave the same advice before the Castilian council, 
which had already received the report of Don Perez. These 86 
two testimonies thoroughly unsettled their preconceived 
opinions. The sentence which had already been rendered, 
was revoked, and with one stroke the whole situation was 
changed. Don Cinchon was now summoned to appear at 
court. All the honors due his office, were lavishly bestowed 
upon him, and wherever he appeared Donna Dolores 
shared his honors with him. The presence of the virey 
at court, was celebrated with great pomp. The king with 
his own hand hung about his neck the highest decoration 
of Spain, the order of the golden fleece. Although Cinchon 
and Huahamac both demanded a hearing in the matter 
against the virey, no one would consider such a request. 
Everyone wondered at the noble bearing of the Inca. 
He was highly honored, and received many valuable gifts 
from all sides. Hualma also soon became the favorite of 
the queen, and thereby, as is usually the case, of the whole 
court. Feast followed feast, honors followed upon honors 
at the court of Madrid for a full three months. 
One day, as they were sitting quietly together, 
Huahamac said to his friend, the virey: 
"I am weary of this intoxicating life at court. It robs 
me of my peace and health. More and more a yearning 
for the mountains and the woods of my home is growing 
upon me. Verily, I prefer my humble cabin amid the 
lofty mountains of Peru, to the royal palace. What I have 
here seen and learned shall be of benefit to my people. 
I .will tell them, that it is foolishness 'to war against your 
nation. Wars will only lessen our number, and blood will 
be needlessly and uselessly spilt. The only road to blessing 
and fortune is, to go hand in hand with you, to learn to 
know and to pray to your God, to leave forever the 
warpath, and to learn from you the arts of peace." 
He stopped suddenly. Then he turned his eye full 
upon Don Cinchon. 87 
"But you, will you return to the land where you were 
treated so ungratefully by your own countrymen?" he 
asked. "Sometimes I have doubted it. I beg of you, I 
entreat you, return with me. You brought us blessings 
unnumbered, you will keep them for us." 
"Under one condition, I will return," said Don Cinchon 
smilingly, as he seized Huahamac's hand. "Under the 
condition that you and your people will reveal to us the 
remedy for the fever. You will do a great work, you 
will do a deed blessed among men and worthy before 
God, if you (will persuade your people " 
Huahamac. agreed. 
"I am a Christian," Jie said firmly, "and that oath 
which I swore, was 3 sin before God. It no longer binds 
me, and even though my people should refuse their consent, 
I will teach you and your people to know the healing tree. 
This I promise you before the face of Him, who is your 
Lord and mine, your God and Judge and mine. Amen." 
About a year and a half later a vessel appeared in the 
harbor of Callao, flying ,the standard of the king of Spain. 
The commandant of the harbor of Callao at once entered 
his boat, for he knew that the vessel must bring the new 
virey of Peru, ;who was hourly expected. They were all 
so sure of the deposition of Count Cinchon. 
When he arrived on board and was led to the cabin, 
where the yirey was awaiting him, his heart beat faster. 
But when he had opened the door and beheld Count 
Cinchon, he stood as if petrified, unable to utter a single 
word. 
"Welcome, Don Rivarez," Cinchon greeted him. "Why 
do you seem so struck?" 
The commandant was now compelled to speak, and 
he did it the more freely because he was a friend to 
Cinchon. He had considered Cinchon's cause lost, and it 88 
appeared prudent to him to attend to the transmission of 
the accusing documents from Lima. Cinchon knew this 
very well, for he had learned it in Spain, but he forgave 
him on condition that he would not again be guilty of 
such a wrong. 
Rivarez promised this. He was evidently sincerely 
sorry for what he had done, and Cinchon was mild and 
friendly as always. Now the commandant opened his 
heart to the virey. 
"You do not know, dear sir," said he, "what has 
befallen the city of Lima during your absence. "Instead 
of a beautiful city, you will find a heap of ruins. An earth- 
quake has worked terrible destruction. Many churches, 
and a great number of houses have fallen and are in 
ruins, especially in the parts of the city lying near the 
Rimae." 
"How is it with the cathedral and the palace of the 
virey?" cried Cinchon in horror. 
"Strange to say," answered the commandant, "the 
buildings about the Piazza Major have suffered little or 
nothing. The distress in the city, however, is indescribable. 
Many have openly said, that this misfortune has fallen 
upon them, on account of the great wrong, which they 
have done to the noble virey." 
Here there must be no delay. The virey left Dolores 
and Hualma in Callao under Huahamac's care and hastened 
on to Lima. 
His friends gave him joyous greeting. His enemies 
were filled with anxiety and fear. When they saw, however, 
that he was mild and considerate, they began to count on 
his forgiveness. He devised wise plans for relief with the 
assistance of Don Perez, and when Huahamac arrived 
with those who had been entrusted to his care, he summoned 
the Indians to aid. Ruins were cleared away, and the 89 
building of low houses was at once begun by the order 
of the vircy. 
All were full of gratefulness for the noble man, and 
before the rainy season had set in, Lima had arisen out 
of its ruins. Nevertheless the fever broke out worse than 
ever, and the hour had arrived for Huahamac to keep 
his word. 
Hualma accompanied him into the mountains, since 
Cinchon released her and all other hostages. This con- 
fidence which the virey showed the Indians, had a wonder- 
ful effect upon the whole nation. 
Huahamac called together a council. He gave an 
account of his voyage across the seas and of the intentions 
of the Spanish king with respect to the Indians. He 
promised a happy future, but he made the one condition, 
that the fever remedy be no longer kept secret from the 
sufferers. 
A murmur of dissent was heard in the circle of the 
assembly. Now Hualma, in all the attractiveness of her 
maidenly beauty, clothed after the manner of the women 
of the Incas, a magnificent crown of feathers on her head, 
entered the circle. 
The effect of her appearance was remarkable. More 
wonderful still was the effect of her spirited and inspiring 
address to the people. Overwhelmed by her arguments, . 
they were unbound from their oath by the priests. 
A few days later the Indians appeared in the market 
with the fever bark. The careful use of the remedy saved 
the lives of almost all those who had been taken sick in 
Lima, and the dreadful fever was henceforth under control. 
A blessing was bestowed upon the human family on 
this and the other side of the sea, which a justifiable 
hatred had withheld until overcome by Christian love. 
As long as Count Cinchon ruled as virey of Peru, 90 
peace continued, and the relation between the Spaniards 
and the Indians was mutually benficial for a long time 
to come. 
The family of Cinchon and that of Huahamac 
remained bound together by ties of closest friendship. 
Their names deserve to be praised among the namens of 
the benefactors of the human race. But the tree, which 
provides the healing fever remedy, received Cinchon's 
name. It is called Cinchona. 
F. E. Haag, Melle i. Hann.