of the Peruvians was awakened at
last. Manco, burning with fiery patriotic zeal, summoned his great
vassals and subjects to his standard. "Death to the Spaniards!" were
the watchwords that resounded with fierce war-cries among the mountains
and hills. With ancient ceremonies, drinking from a common cup, they
pledged their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor to their
hereditary chief in defense of their altars and their fires, their
native land.

{96}

Early in 1536 a vast army swept down through the mountain passes and
made toward the ancient capital. The three Pizarros, Hernando, Juan
and Gonzalo, put themselves at the head of their horsemen and sallied
out to meet them. They killed numbers of Peruvians, but all their
valor could not check the resistless force of the patriotic army. The
Spaniards were swept back into the city, glad to escape with their
lives before such overwhelming numbers; indeed, only a timely attack by
a detachment in the rear of the Peruvians saved them from destruction
then and there. Cuzco was at once invested. The Indians, with a
heroism which cannot be too greatly commended, endeavored to carry the
place by assault.[9]

They set fire to the thatched roofs of their own houses, devoting their
city to flames, like the Russians at Moscow, to compass the
annihilation of the detested invaders. The wind favored them, and a
besom of flame swept over the devoted town until over one-half of it
was laid in ruins. There were ninety Spanish horse in the city,
probably as many foot, and a thousand Indian auxiliaries, but they were
soldiers of the highest quality and led by three captains whose like
for daring and skill are not often seen.

No one ever questioned the courage or the military ability of the
Pizarros and certainly they exhibited both qualities in full measure
during the siege. Of all the brothers, it is probable that Hernando
was the most daring cavalier as well as the most capable captain,
although in personal prowess his younger brothers were not a whit
behind him. Indeed, Gonzalo was {97} reckoned as the best lance in the
New World. Stifled by the smoke, scorched by the flames, parched with
heat, choked with thirst, exhausted with hunger, crazed from loss of
sleep, yet battling with the energy of despair against overwhelming
numbers of Indians, who, with a reckless disregard for life, hurled
themselves upon the sword-points, the Spaniards after several days of
t