The Araucanos, whom certain travellers, either ill-informed or of bad faith, persist in representing as savage men plunged in the most frightful barbarism, are, on the contrary, a relatively civilized people. Their government, the origin of which is lost in the night of time, and which, at the period of the Spanish conquest, was as well organized and carried out as easily as at the present day, is, as we have said in a preceding chapter, an aristocratic republic, with essentially feudal tendencies. This government, which affects all the appearances of the feudal system, has all its good qualities and all its defects. Hence, except in time of war, the toquis possess but the shadow of sovereignty, and the power resides in the entire body of the chiefs, who, in questions of importance, decide in a general diet, called the Auca-coyog, the great council, or council of free men, for such is the name they claim for themselves, and very justly, for no power has yet been able to subdue them. These councils are generally held in the presence of all, in a vast prairie.

Antinahuel had eagerly seized the pretext of the renewal of the treaties to try and obtain from the chiefs authority to carry into execution the projects which had been so long ripening in his brain. The Araucanian code, which contains all the laws of the nation, created an obligation for his doing so, from which even his renown and popularity were powerless to release him. But he hoped to overcome the opposition of the chiefs, or their repugnance to submit to his will, by means of his eloquence and the influence which, under many circumstances, he had exercised over the minds of the Ulmens, even those most determined to resist him.

The Araucanos cultivate with success the art of speaking, which among them leads to public honours. They make it a point to speak their own language well, and to preserve its purity by guarding particularly against the introduction of foreign words. They carry this so far, that when a white establishes himself amongst them, they oblige him to abandon his own name and take one of their country. The style of their speeches is figurative and allegorical. They call the style of parliamentary harangues coyagtucan; and it must be observed that these speeches contain all the essential parts of true rhetoric, and are almost all divided into three heads.

The few words we have said will suffice to show that the Araucanos are not so savage as we have been led to suppose. In short, a small people, who, without allies, isolated at the extremity of the continent, have since the landing of the Spaniards on their coasts, that is to say, during three hundred years, constantly and alone resisted European armies composed of experienced soldiers and greedy adventurers, whom no difficulty was likely to stop, and who have preserved their independence and their nationality intact, are, in our opinion, respectable in every point of view, and ought not to be stigmatized as barbarians with impunity – the sad, despicable vengeance of those proud and impotent Spaniards, who have never been able to conquer them, and whose degenerate sons at this very day pay them a tribute, under the lying excuse of an annual offering.

We who, thrown by the chance of our adventurous travels among these indomitable tribes, have lived many days with them, have had an opportunity of judging soundly of these ill-understood people. We have been able to appreciate all that is really simple, great, and generous in their character. Terminating here this somewhat long digression, a tribute of gratitude paid to ancient and dearly-beloved friends, we will resume our narrative.

Antinahuel and Black-Stag arrived at the place where the chiefs were assembled. They dismounted and joined the groups of Ulmens. The chiefs, who were peacefully chatting together, at their arrival became silent, and, for a few minutes, not a word was heard in the assembly. At length Cathicara, the toqui of the Piré-Mapus, made a few steps towards the centre of the circle, and took the initiative.

Cathicara was an old man of seventy, of majestic bearing, and imposing countenance. A renowned warrior in his youth, now that many winters had wrinkled his brow and silvered his long hair, he enjoyed, by just title, a great reputation for wisdom in his nation. Descended from an old race of Ulmens, continually opposed to the whites, he was an inveterate enemy of the Chilians, against whom he had long waged war. He was acquainted with the secret views of Antinahuel, of whom he was the most devoted friend and partisan.

"Toquis, Apo-Ulmens and Ulmens of the valiant nation of the Aucas, whose immense hunting grounds cover the surface of the earth," he said, "my heart is sad; a cloud covers my mind, and my eyes, filled with tears, are constantly cast towards the ground; whence comes it that grief devours me? Why does the joyous song of the goldfinch no longer sound cheerfully in my ears? why do the rays of the sun seem less warm to me? why, in short, does nature appear less beautiful to me? Will you tell me, my brothers? You are silent; shame covers your brows; your humbled eyes are cast down – have you nothing to reply? It is because you are a degenerate people! your warriors are women, who instead of the lance take up the spindle; because you bow basely beneath the yoke of these Chiaplos, these Huincas, who laugh at you, for they know that you have no longer blood red enough to contend with them! When, Aucas warriors, did impure owls and screech owls begin to make their nests in the eyrie of eagles? Of what use is this stone hatchet, the symbol of strength; this hatchet, which you have given me to defend you, if it is to remain inactive in my hands, and if I must descend into the tomb, towards which I am already hastening, without having been able to do anything for your enfranchisement? – Take it back again, warriors, if it is to be nothing but a vain, honorary ornament; for myself, my life has been too long – let me retire to my toldo, where, to my last days, it will be at least permitted me to weep over our independence, which is compromised by your weakness, and our glory eclipsed for ever by your cowardice!"

After uttering these words, the old man made a few paces backwards, staggering as if overcome by grief. Antinahuel sprang towards him, and appeared to lavish consolations upon him in a low voice. The speech had strongly moved the assembly, for the toqui was beloved and venerated by all. The Ulmens remained apparently silent and stoical; but their feelings of hatred had been powerfully stirred, and passion began to gleam from their eyes in ominous flashes. Black-Stag stepped forward.

"Father," he said, in a low, insinuating tone, and with a quiet air, "your words are rough; they have plunged our hearts in sadness; why have you been so severe with your children? Pillian alone is acquainted with the intentions of men. What do you reproach us with? with having done today what our fathers have always done before us, while they did not believe themselves in a position to contend victoriously against their enemies! No, owls and impure birds do not make their nests in the eyries of eagles. No, the Aucas are not women! They are valiant and invincible warriors, as their fathers were before them. Listen! listen to what the spirit reveals to me: the council with the Spaniards of today is null and void, because it has not taken place as the Admapu requires. The toqui has not presented to the chief of the palefaces the branch of the Cinnamon tree, the symbol of peace; the canes of the Apo-Ulmens have not been bound in a sheaf with the sword of the Huinca chief; the oath and the speeches have been pronounced upon the cross of the palefaces, and not upon the sheaf, as the law requires. I repeat, then, the Huinca-coyog is a nullity, nothing but a vain, laughable ceremony, to which we ought to attach no importance. Have I spoken well, powerful men?"

"Yes! yes!" the chiefs cried, brandishing their arms, "the Huinca-coyog is null!"

Antinahuel then took a few steps forward within the circle, with his head advanced, his eyes fixed on vacancy, and his arms extended, as if he heard and saw things which he alone could see and hear.

"Silence!" Black-Stag cried, pointing to him with his finger; "the great toqui is holding conference with his nymph!"

The chiefs experienced a sensation of terror while looking at the toqui. A solemn silence prevailed in the assembly. On his part, Antinahuel did not stir.

Black-Stag approached him softly, and, stooping towards his ear, asked, —

"What does my father see?"

"I see the warriors of the palefaces; they have dug up the war hatchet, and are fighting with one another."

"What more does my father see?" Black-Stag resumed.

"I see streams of blood, which redden the soil; the odour of that blood rejoices my heart, for it is the blood of palefaces shed by their brothers!"

"Does my father see anything more?"

"I see the great chief of the whites! he fights valiantly at the head of his soldiers! he is surrounded, he fights still! he is nearly falling – he falls – he is down – he is conquered! His enemies seize him!"

The Ulmens present at this scene looked on in stupefied amazement; it was incomprehensible to them. A smile of disdain curled the lips of Black-Stag, as he continued, —

"Does my father hear anything?"

"I hear the cries of the dying demanding vengeance upon their brothers!"

"Does my father hear anything else?"

"Yes; I hear the cries of Aucas warriors, long since dead, and they freeze me with terror!"

"What do they say?" the chiefs exclaimed unanimously, a prey to intense anxiety. "What do the Aucas warriors say?"

"They say, 'Brothers, the hour is come! To arms! To arms!'"

"To arms!" the chiefs shouted, as with one voice. "To arms! Death to the palefaces!"

The impulse was given, enthusiasm had seized all hearts; from this moment Antinahuel was able to raise the passions of the crowd to delirium at his pleasure. A smile of supreme satisfaction lighted his haughty countenance as he recovered apparently from his vision.

"Chiefs of the Aucas," he said, "what do you order me to do?"

"Antinahuel," Cathicara replied, throwing his stone hatchet into the fire, in which he was directly imitated by the other toquis; "there is now but one supreme hatchet in the nation, it is in your hands; let it be red up to the hilt in the blood of the vile Huincas; lead our Uthal-Mapus to battle – you have the supreme command! We give you the power of life and death over our persons. From this hour, you alone in the nation have the right to command us; whatever be your orders, we will accomplish them."

Antinahuel raised his lofty head, his brow radiant with pride: brandishing in his nervous hand his powerful war hatchet, the symbol of the dictatorial and boundless power which had just been conferred upon him, he said haughtily, —

"Aucas, I accept the honour you do me; I will prove worthy of the confidence you place in me. This hatchet shall never be buried till my body has served for food to the vultures of the Andes, or till the cowardly palefaces, against whom we are about to combat, shall have come upon their knees to implore pardon!"

The chiefs replied to these words by cries of joy and ferocious howlings. The Auca-coyog was terminated. Tables were placed, and a banquet gathered together all the warriors present at the council. At the moment when Antinahuel was seating himself in the high place reserved for him, an Indian, covered with perspiration and dust, approached him, and whispered a few words in his ear. The chief started; a nervous paroxysm shook his whole frame, and he arose a prey to the most lively agitation.

"Oh!" he cried, passionately, "it is to me alone that woman should belong!" and, addressing the Indian who had spoken to him, he added, "Bid my mosotones mount, and be prepared to follow me instantly."

CHAPTER XLII
THE NIGHT JOURNEY

Antinahuel beckoned Black-Stag to come to him, and the Apo-Ulmen did not delay. Notwithstanding the number and copiousness of the libations in which he had indulged, the face of the Araucano chief was as impassive, and his step as steady, as if he had only drunk water. When he arrived in front of the toqui, he bowed respectfully, and waited in silence till he was spoken to. The toqui, with his eyes fixed on the ground, and buried in serious reflections, was some time before he was aware of his presence. At length he raised his eyes; his countenance was dark, his eyes seemed to dart lightning, a nervous tremour agitated all his limbs.

"Is my father suffering?" Black-Stag asked, mildly and affectionately.

"I am," the chief replied.

"Guécubu has breathed upon the heart of my father; but let him take courage, Pillian will support him."

"No," Antinahuel replied; "the breath which dries my breast is a breath of fear."

"Of fear?"

"Yes; the Huincas are powerful. I dread the strength of their arms for my young men!"

Black-Stag surveyed him with astonishment.

"What signifies the power of the palefaces," he said, "when my father is at the head of the four Uthal-Mapus?"

"This war will be terrible; and I would conquer."

"My father will conquer. Do not all the warriors listen to his voice?"

"No," said Antinahuel, sorrowfully; "the Ulmens of the Puelches were not present at the council."

"That is true," Black-Stag murmured.

"The Puelches are the first among Aucas warriors."

"That is true, too," said Black-Stag.

"I suffer!" Antinahuel repeated.

Black-Stag laid his hand upon his shoulder.

"My father," he said, in an insinuating tone, "is a great chief; nothing is impossible to him!"

"What does my son mean?"

"War is declared. Whilst we attempt incursions into the Chilian territory, to keep our enemies in a state of uncertainty as to our plans, let my father mount with his mosotones upon his coursers more fleet than the wind, and fly upon the wings of the tempest to the Puelches. His words will convince them; the warriors will abandon everything to follow him and fight under his orders. With their assistance we shall conquer the Huincas, and the heart of my father will swell with joy and pride!"

"My son is wise! I will follow his counsels," the toqui answered, with a smile of mysterious expression; "but he has said war is resolved upon; the interests of my nation must not suffer from the short absence I am forced to make."

"My father will provide for that."

"I have provided for it," Antinahuel said, with a courteous smile; "let my son listen to me."

"My ears are open to receive the words of my father."

"At sunrise, when the fumes of the water fire are dissipated, the chiefs will ask for Antinahuel." Black-Stag nodded assent.

"I will place in the hands of my son," the chief continued, "the stone hatchet, the sign of my dignity. Black-Stag is a part of my soul, his heart is devoted to me; I name him my vice-toqui – he will take my place."

The Apo-Ulmen bowed respectfully before Antinahuel, and kissed his hand.

"Whatever my father orders shall be instantly executed," he said.

"The chiefs are of a proud character; their courage is fiery: my son must not give them time to cool, he must make them so compromise themselves, that they cannot afterwards retract."

"What are the names of these chiefs, that I may keep them in my memory?"

"They are the most powerful Ulmens of the nation. Let my son remember they are eight in number; each of them must make an incursion on the frontier, in order to prove to the Chiaplos that hostilities have commenced. The four principal among them will immediately repair to Valdivia, to proclaim the declaration of war to the palefaces."

"Good!"

"These are the names of the Ulmens: Tangol, Qud-pal, Auchanguer, Colfunguin, Trumau, Cuyumil, and Pailapen. Does my son hear these names distinctly?"

"I have heard them."

"Has my son understood the sense of my words? Have they entered into his brain?"

"The words of my father are here," said Black-Stag, pointing to his forehead; "he may banish all uneasiness, and fly towards her who has taken possession of his heart."

"Good!" Antinahuel replied; "my son loves me, he will remember; after two suns he will find me at the toldería of the Black Serpents."

"The Black-Stag will be there, accompanied by his most valiant warriors; may Pillian guide the steps of my father, and may the god of war grant him success."

"Farewell, brother!" Antinahuel murmured, taking leave of his lieutenant.

Black-Stag bowed to the toqui and retired. As soon as he was alone, Antinahuel made a sign to the Indian whose news had caused his departure. During the conference of the two chiefs this man had stood motionless, at a sufficient distance to prevent his hearing what they said, but near enough to execute immediately the orders that might be given him. He drew near in obedience to the sign.

"Is my son fatigued?" the toqui asked.

"No; my horse alone wants rest."

"Well, my son shall have another horse; he will guide us."

Antinahuel, followed by the scout, advanced, without more words, towards a group of horsemen, who, leaning on their long lances, cast their black shadows gloomily into the night. These horsemen, about thirty in number, were the mosotones of the toqui. Antinahuel, at a bound, sprang upon a magnificent horse, held by the bridle by two Indians.

"Forward!" he cried, settling himself in his saddle, and plunging his spurs into the sides of the horse, which set off with the speed of an arrow.

The mosotones followed as quickly after, and the troop of horsemen glided through the darkness like a legion of gloomy phantoms, preceded by the scout. Who can express the terrible poetry of a night ride in the American deserts? The midnight wind had swept the heavens clear of clouds, and its vault, of a dark blue, appeared to be, like a monarch's robe, splendidly adorned with an infinite number of stars. The night had that velvety transparency peculiar to warm climates. At intervals, a puff of wind, loaded with indistinct sounds, scattered the dry leaves into the air, and was lost in the distance like a sigh.

The Araucanos, bending over the necks of their horses, whose nostrils emitted dense clouds of smoke, rode on, and on, and ever on, without casting even a look around them. And yet the desert they were traversing, so silently and so rapidly, poured floods of splendid harmonies into space. The murmur of water among the lianas and the glayeuls, the moaning of the wind among the leaves, or the confused noise of a thousand invisible insects, could be heard; at times, lights, fluttering through the foliage, danced upon the grass in the manner of wild fires; at distances were to be seen old trees, at the angles of ravines or the brink of precipices, standing like spectres, shaking their winding sheets of parasitical plants; a thousand rumours hovered in the air; nameless cries issued from dens hollowed under vast roots; stifled sighs descended from the hoary summits of the mountains: an unknown and mysterious world could be felt existing around. Everywhere, on the earth, in the air, was to be heard the great flood of life, which comes from God, passes away, and is incessantly renewed.

The Araucanos still continued their furious course, clearing torrents and ravines, and crushing under the hoofs of their flying coursers stones, the fragments of which rolled with a splash into the barrancas. At two lances, length, in front, by the side of the scout, Antinahuel, with his eyes ardently directed forward, kept urging on his horse, whose hard and loud breathing proclaimed fatigue. All at once a dark mass surged up in the distance, and then a voice was heard.

"We have arrived," the guide exclaimed.

"At last!" Antinahuel said, pulling up his horse, which could no longer stand when the impetus had ceased. They found themselves in a miserable village, composed of five or six huts falling to ruins, and which, at every gust of wind, threatened to tumble to pieces. Antinahuel, who expected the fall of his horse, disengaged himself quickly, and addressing the guide, who had likewise dismounted, asked —

"In which toldo is she?"

"Come," the Indian replied, laconically.

Antinahuel followed him.

They walked some steps without exchanging a word; the chief pressing his hand strongly on his breast, as if to keep down the beatings of his heart. After a hasty march of ten minutes, the two men found themselves in front of an isolated cabin, from the interior of which glimmered a feeble light. The Indian stopped, and turned towards Antinahuel.

"That is it," he said, stretching out his arm in the direction of the cabin.

The toqui turned round to ascertain whether his mosotones, whom, in his rapid course, he had left far behind, were rejoining him; and then, after the hesitation of a second, he approached the door and pushed it, saying in a low but determined voice —

"An end must be put to this!"

The door opened, and he entered.