Chapter XXV

Almagro, at the head of his two hundred men, arrived at Caxamalca the middle of February. The occasion was made one of great joy and feasting by order of Pizarro.

In a gust of stormy emotion the commander met his partner with outstretched arms and the two men embraced.

“Our dreams have come true, my comrade!” Pizarro cried. “For eight long years you and I have been laughed at and ridiculed. The deed is done. Our names--yours and mine--go down in history with all the glory we have dreamed and more. It’s yours--it’s mine. The treasure we have taken here is but a token of what is yet to come. The two hundred loads of gold from Cuzco scarcely made an impression on its riches.”

“Then we’ll on to Cuzco!” shouted the little partner.

“This is now possible with your help and the help of your two hundred brave men. A vast empire of twelve million people, with all its power and wealth, is ours. There is room for all. There are fortunes for all.”

“Good!” Almagro exclaimed. “We forget our differences!”

Pizarro grasped the extended hand.

“And pledge anew our loyalty and eternal friendship.”

But one man refused to shake hands with the new captain. Hernando Pizarro not only failed to join in the welcome, but hung back with words of bitter insult to all who came to hear his ugly talk.

He complained loudly to De Soto whose judgment he prized.

“Now that we have won an empire,” he snarled, “this ignorant, coarse little ass appears on the scene to share our honors and demand a division of our treasures. It’s more than human flesh can endure. My brother Francisco is a sentimental fool. He talks of comradeship and loyalty. The one-eyed ugly brute hates him and he is too generous to see it. Or seeing and knowing it, he passes it over for the sake of the old days at Panama.”

De Soto maintained a stolid silence to the tirade of abuse and promptly followed his chief in extending a cordial welcome to Almagro.

Francisco Pizarro faced his brother trembling with passion.

“All my life,” he complained, “I’ve looked up to you with the loyalty and love of a little boy for his big elder brother. When the Emperor showered honors on me, I hurried to Truxillo to share them with you. I have honored you above all the men under my command.”

“And have I ever failed you when danger called?” Hernando demanded.

“In your sullen pride and overbearing manners towards my comrades in arms--yes! You embroiled me once in a dangerous quarrel with Almagro in Panama. You are now risking a clash of arms between us at a moment that imperils the work of a lifetime. I cannot and will not permit such folly!”

“Clash of arms? What do you mean?” Hernando interrupted.

“Just what I say. The sight of our treasure will excite his men. I signed with Almagro a contract providing that he should receive a third of all the spoils taken. He has under his contract the legal right to demand his third. If he does, and persists in the demand, his two hundred men will back him up. They outnumber our force. In such a clash the Inca’s army may rise and all is lost. You must apologize to Almagro.”

“I’ll fight the little beast down to the bottom of hell first!” Hernando shouted.

Francisco squared himself before his brother with his heavy jaws set.

“You’ll go with me now to his rooms and apologize in my presence, or I’ll deprive you of your command and put you in irons!”

“I dare you to try it!” the older brother hissed.

“I’ll not try it,” was the firm answer, “I’ll do it. Will you obey my orders as your superior officer?”

Hernando sullenly submitted, followed his brother to Almagro and gave a grudging apology. He hurried from the hated presence and left Francisco with an angry frown watching his departure.

Almagro slipped an arm around his old partner and laughed.

“It’s all right, Francisco. Forget it. It’s all right with me.”

“Well, it’s not all right with me, and I’ll see that he gives us no further trouble. I’ll send him to the Court of Spain to deliver the Crown’s fifth to the Emperor.”

“And we’ll be rid of him! Great!” The little partner shouted. “Francisco Pizarro, you’ve brains as well as brawn. I’ve always said it.”

“That satisfies you?”

“Surely,” was the prompt response.

But in spite of all assurances, Francisco Pizarro left the scene with a sense of foreboding. He knew his sullen brother well enough to realize that the seeds of a death feud had been sown between the two men.

The arrival of Almagro’s men produced vast excitement in the ranks of the Spanish soldiers. A demand for an immediate division of the gold was made on the commander.

“But the ransom agreed on is not yet paid in full,” Pizarro answered.

“Why wait?” the leader of the delegation asked. “But a few inches remain to be filled. It is enough if we only make sure against its loss. The new men will demand a share if we wait. They have no rights if divided now.”

“The gold is pouring in daily in thousands.”

“What of it?” the spokesman continued. “We are masters of the country. It’s all ours now. We’re not going to run. Let’s divide and let every man care for his own. The new men are eager to march on Cuzco and so are we all.”

“I’ll march on Cuzco, never fear.”

“But let’s march now before they have time to hide their treasures. Every hour we stay here will make them more difficult to find.”

The last argument of the man won Pizarro. He agreed to order the division.

The Inca was notified by the commander that he had fulfilled the conditions of his ransom, and great was the joy in his household.

“And I am free to go?” Atahualpa eagerly asked.

“The moment the formalities have been completed,” Pizarro assured him.

“Formalities?”

“Yes. Your smiths must melt down the treasure and its division and conveyance to the coast must be assured before the transaction is complete.”

The monarch frowned at the unexpected delay but agreed to summon his smiths at once. They were instructed to reduce each article to ingots of uniform size. As the articles were of many degrees of purity, the removal of the alloy was a long and difficult process. They labored day and night for five weeks at their tragic task. Most of them were artisans of skill and some of them had wrought these works of art with infinite pains. To melt them down at the command of strangers wrenched their hearts. Their suffering at the sacrilege added to the delay.

The articles consisted of all sorts and sizes of goblets, plates, cups, ewers, salvers, vases, bowls, pitchers, medallions, statues; tiles and cornices from temples, and curious images of plants and animals.

The most notable reproduction of plant life was a stalk and ear of Indian corn, the staple food. The golden ear was wrapped in a silver sheath from which hung tassels of silver thread.

Before melting down these wonderful specimens of ancient art Pizarro decided to set aside as part of the fifth belonging to the Crown a number of the most beautiful specimens for the palaces of Charles V. Selections were made to the value of a hundred thousand ducats and placed in the hands of Hernando Pizarro for delivery to the Emperor.

At the end of a month the work of molding the gold into uniform ingots was finished. Under the eye of the king’s inspector from Spain they were weighed carefully and their value reckoned. The total amount, we are told by the ancient chronicler, was one million three hundred and twenty-six thousand five hundred and thirty-nine _pesos de oro_, equivalent to sixteen million dollars. To this was added a half million in silver.

The report of its amazing value swept the camp, and quickly started a storm of discussion, between the soldiers of Almagro and Pizarro. An excited group stood around the fire in the center of the plaza arguing with rising passion until long past midnight.

The commander thought best to allow them this liberty. The longer they talked, the less likely a fight. He took pains, however, to have his secretary send a faithful report of their debate.

“It’s all well enough,” muttered a veteran of the new army, “for our leaders to shake hands and hug one another, but what good does that do us? We enlisted under Almagro, who claimed to be Pizarro’s partner. They signed their contract on the holy missal at the altar of the church in Panama. We have the right to his share, one-third of the whole.”

“Get your own gold, damn you,” was the short answer from a stalwart in Pizarro’s crew. “We climbed the mountains, took our chances, fought for our fortune and won it. We’d like to see you touch it!”

“We’ll have our share ...” said one of Almagro’s men.

“Sure as God lives!” cried another.

“You’ll take it over our dead bodies ...” answered Pizarro’s followers.

“All right--still we’ll take it--”

For hours they snarled.

By noon the following day they were gripping their weapons, ready for battle. Almagro and Pizarro quickly took council.

“God’s Light! This will never do,” the little man growled. “We must stop it.”

“And without delay,” Pizarro agreed. “Calm your men and you and I will come to an understanding. A fight now would be an insanity that would cost us everything.”

Almagro called his division of troops together and placed the ringleader of the threatened mutiny directly in front. He bored him through with his one eye in a look of keen appraisal that was little to the fellow’s liking. It was impossible to withdraw into the crowd. He would be marked at once as a coward if he did. He was compelled to stand the gaze of his captain.

“The first thing I want you to understand, comrades, is that I am your commander--are we agreed on that?”

The leader of the trouble saw his drift and growled a half-hearted assent. The little captain fixed him again with his gleaming eye and shouted:

“I don’t like your tone. I want to hear from every man before me--am I your commander?”

From every throat came lusty approval.

“That’s better,” Almagro nodded. “Now listen! Back to your quarters and leave the question of the division of this treasure in my hands. I will reach an agreement with Francisco Pizarro. If I am satisfied, it is enough for you.”

There was a faint murmur of dissent but the grumbler caught an ugly gleam in the little captain’s eye and turned away in silence.

Almagro and Pizarro quickly agreed that a small sum should be paid to the new force and they should reserve an amount equal to the Inca’s ransom out of the first spoils taken in Cuzco. As an additional balm to the dissatisfied a new _repartimiento_ was ordered of the natives and five thousand slaves were assigned to Almagro’s men.

The settlement with Almagro made, Pizarro proceeded to the division of the spoils. He summoned his own troops into the Square and addressed them as was his custom on all important occasions.

“Comrades, you are now to receive the reward of your suffering and trial. I ask the aid of Heaven that I may deal justly with all.”

The King’s fifth was delivered to the officers of the Crown, valued at $3,300,000 in gold, a sum sufficient in its day to equip and maintain a vast army of conquest for the Emperor Charles V.

To each common soldier was delivered a sum equal to $25,000. Men who had lived the bitterest of lives of abject poverty, waifs, and foundlings, as were both Pizarro and Almagro, suddenly found themselves with money enough to maintain themselves in comfort for life, to say nothing of twenty slaves each to do their bidding. In the history of the world no such fortune had ever before fallen into the hands of a common soldier. That they lost their heads for the moment was not to be wondered at.

To Francisco Pizarro was allotted fifty-seven thousand two hundred and twenty-two _pesos_ of gold and two thousand three hundred marks of silver, making him a millionaire in the coin of our day. In addition, as leader of the expedition, he was given the throne of the Inca, a chair of solid gold valued at twenty-five thousand _pesos_.

Hernando Pizarro received thirty-two thousand _pesos de oro_ and two thousand three hundred marks of silver.

De Soto was given eighteen thousand _pesos de oro_ and seven hundred and twenty-four marks of silver.

The new church was named San Francisco in honor of Francisco Pizarro, and endowed with two thousand two hundred and twenty _pesos_ of gold. Almagro accepted twenty thousand _pesos_ for himself and as much for distribution among his men.

An orgy of the wildest debauchery immediately followed. Pizarro was too wise a leader of men to attempt to stem the turmoil until its force was spent.

Within two weeks the institutions of the Christian civilization of the sixteenth century were firmly established and in full swing. The church, monastery, court room, and torture chamber had been built some time before and chattel slavery had been imbedded in the social order. Five hundred soldiers owned more than ten thousand slaves.

Two gambling halls were now opened and did an immense business. More than one soldier parted with his entire fortune in a night. It was the custom to stake his slaves one at a time. It was not considered good form at this high tide of wealth for a man to wager less than a slave on a single throw of dice. Within two weeks a new distribution of wealth had been made. Almagro’s men had better luck than the veterans of Pizarro. They had little to lose and by shrewd partnerships they managed to relieve the drunken revelers of a large part of their golden burdens. There was no longer serious cause for complaint. Both factions were shouting now:

“On to Cuzco!”

A red light district was established near the Plaza and the owners filled the houses with slave girls lost in the gambling hells. The diseases of this institution were early established and widely spread, to the amazement and terror of the natives. Begging, vagrancy and theft made their appearance and the complete machinery of civilization was in full blast.

Felipillo, the renegade, in a desperate effort to keep pace with his fellow Christians, attempted to abduct the unfaithful wife of the Inca whom he had seduced. Like a noble Spaniard he boldly entered the royal apartments, took the girl and was leading her to the door when he was seized by attendants and dragged before the Inca.

In strict accordance with the native law he was immediately sentenced to death.

He faced Atahualpa with fury.

“I am no longer your subject. I demand to be taken before Francisco Pizarro--your master and mine. Dare to lay your hand on me and your own life will pay the forfeit.”

The Inca feared to proceed without consulting the commander. When Pizarro appeared he was puzzled for the moment. The last thing he could afford in this crisis was to provoke an uprising, the one terror he must ever fear. How far the natives would resent this crime against the person of their sovereign he could only guess. As they had suffered his capture, his chains and his long imprisonment he decided to take a chance. The interpreter was too valuable a man to be executed at this junction. He asked for clemency.

“Release the man, Your Highness, and I will vouch for his good behavior hereafter.”

Atahualpa, seeing no other course possible, reluctantly consented.

Felipillo threw him a look of hate, drew himself erect and marched to the door. He stopped, gazed at the Inca a moment and said in low tones:

“Remember, O Lord of a cloudy Sun, and some day regret.”