he man, his
religion, the laws of Spain, and the circumstantial evidence of his
habitual conduct lead us to believe that he intended to set Atahualpa
free when the ransom should have been paid. But later circumstances, in
which he had neither blame nor control, simply forced him to a different
course.

Atahualpa's messengers dispersed themselves through Peru to gather the
gold and silver for the ransom. Meanwhile, Huascar,--who, you will
remember, was a prisoner in the hands of Atahualpa's men,--having heard
of the arrangement, sent word to the Spaniards setting forth his own
claims. Pizarro ordered that he should be brought to Caxamarca to tell
his story. The only way to learn which of the rival war-captains was
right in his claims was to bring them together and weigh their
respective pretensions. But this by no mean suited Atahualpa. Before
Huascar could be brought to Caxamarca he was assassinated by his Indian
keepers, the henchmen of Atahualpa,--and, it is commonly agreed, by
Atahualpa's orders.

The gold and silver for the ransom came in slowly. Historically there is
no doubt what was Atahualpa's plan in the whole arrangement. He was
merely _buying time_,--alluring the Spaniards to wait and wait, until he
could collect his forces to his rescue, and then wipe out the invaders.
This, indeed, began to dawn on the Spaniards. Tempting as was the golden
bait, they suspected the trap behind it. It was not long before their
fears were confirmed. They began to learn of the secret rallying of the
Indian forces. The news grew worse and worse; and even the daily arrival
of gold--some days as high as $50,000 in weight--could not blind them to
the growing danger.

It was necessary to learn more of the situation than they could know
while shut up in Caxamarca; and Hernando Pizarro was sent out with a
small force to scout to Guamachucho and thence to Pachacamac, three
hundred miles. It was a difficult and dangerous reconnoissance, but full
of interest. Their way along the table-land of the Cordillera was a
toilsome one. The story of great military roads is largely a myth,
though much had been done to improve the trails,--a good deal after the
rude fashion of the Pueblos of New Mexico, but on a larger scale. The
improvements, however, had been only to adapt the trails for the
sure-footed llama; and the Spanish horses could with great difficulty be
hauled and pushed up the worst parts. Especially were the Spaniards
impressed wit