bearing, I conjectured to be a
chief, though I never recollected to have seen him before. Other
Indians kept arriving from all sides through the forest. He stood
elevated above the rest on a mound of earth under a canopy of cloth of
many colours; and I observed that the _borla_, the red fringe worn only
in ancient days by the proud Incas, bound his brow. From this sign I
could have no doubt that he was the well-known chieftain, Tupac Amaru,
the lineal descendant of the Incas, and the elder uncle of my friend
Manco. By the Indians he had been known usually by the name of
Condorcanqui, and by the Spanish as Don Jose Gabriel, Marquis de
Alcalises, a title which had been given to one of his ancestors by the
King of Spain.

He was addressing the multitude in a harangue which, from the distance
he was from me, I could not hear. The people listened with deep
earnestness and silence, till some expression aroused their passions,
when brandishing their weapons, their bows, their clubs and spears, they
uttered shouts of approval, or wild cries of defiance and hatred to
their foe.

I had no doubt that I was in one of the strongholds of the Indians,
among the mountains on the eastern side of the Andes. The Inca, for so
I may call him, continued speaking for an hour or more, when I again
fell off into a sleep or stupor. I had discovered that I was wounded
both in the head and side; and I felt dreadfully weak and ill. The sun
was just gliding behind the mountains when I again opened my eyes. By
my side sat a young and very beautiful woman, her large black eyes and
the tinge of copper in her complexion showing that she was of Indian
birth.

In front of the hut stood a man whose figure I thought I knew. An
exclamation of surprise escaped my lips. He turned his head at the
sound of my voice, and I recognised, to my joy, the chief Manco. He
knelt down by my side.

"Ah! my young friend, I rejoice to hear you speak once again," he said.
"My wife and I have watched over you anxiously, for we thought with
sorrow that you would never recover."

I did not before know that Manco had a wife. "You have been very good
to me; and had it not been for her care, I must have died," I replied.
"I dare say I shall now soon get well; but can you tell me anything of
my parents and my brothers and sisters? Is Ithulpo with you?"

"I can give you no tidings of them," he replied, turning away his head.
"Ithulpo has not come back to us, an