le with the royal
fifth, as the Spanish Emperor's share of the treasure was called; he
also took with him all the Spaniards who had had enough of the life of
adventure and wished to settle in their native land to enjoy their
ill-gotten spoils. Pizarro judged rightly that the sight of the gold
would bring him ten recruits for every one who thus returned. And so it
was, for when he again sailed for Peru it was at the head of the most
numerous and the best-appointed fleet that had yet set out. But as so
often happened, disaster pursued him, and only a broken remnant finally
reached the Peruvian shore. Quarrels now arose between Almagro and
Pizarro, the former claiming to be Governor of Cuzco; and when after
many difficulties peace was again made, and Almagro, withdrawing his
claim, had led his partisans off to conquer Chili, a new trouble began.
The Inca Manco, under pretext of showing Hernando Pizarro a hidden
treasure, managed to make his escape; the Peruvians flocked to his
banner, and the party of Spaniards under Juan Pizarro who were sent out
to recapture him returned to Cuzco weary and wounded after many
unsuccessful struggles with the enemy, only to find the city closely
surrounded by a mighty host of Indians. They were, however, allowed to
enter the capital, and then began a terrible siege which lasted for more
than five months. Day and night the Spaniards were harassed by showers
of missiles. Sometimes the flights of burning arrows or red-hot stones
wrapped in some inflammable substance would cause fearful fires in all
quarters of the town at once; three times in one day did the flames
attack the very building which sheltered the Spaniards, but fortunately
they were extinguished without doing much harm. In vain did the
besieged make desperate sallies; the Indians planted stakes to entangle
their horses, and took the riders prisoners by means of the lasso, which
they used with great skill. To add to their distress the great citadel
which dominated the town had fallen into the hands of the enemy, and
though after a gallant struggle it was retaken, yet it was at the cost
of Juan Pizarro's life. As for the Inca noble who defended it, when he
saw that the citadel must fall, he cast away his war-club, and, folding
his mantle about him, threw himself headlong from the battlements.
Famine now began to be felt sharply, and it added horror to the
situation of the besieged when, after they had heard no tidings of their
countr