1831.] The Ravine of f he Unburied Dead. G3 



rising deity. With a fullness of agony that could scarce find vent in 

 utterance, she supplicated her inexorable parent to change his stern pur- 

 pose, and yet save himself, in this last moment of hope, by divulging 

 his precious secret. Finding her intreaties useless, and seeing her 

 father about to he stretched on the fearful instrument of anguish, Ualla 

 flew to the opening of the apartment, and shrieked with a violence which 

 made the dark chambers of the Indian palace resound to her cries. " O 

 Hernando ! Hernando ! In the name of our mutual God I charge thee 

 come and save my parent." 



Awed by the name of the famous chief on whom Ualla called, and 

 aware of the tender eye with which he regarded the Peruvian beauty, 

 the executioners paused for a moment, and seemed to suspend their 

 work of anguish, as if to see whether the brave Spaniard were really 

 near to answer the cries of his young protegee. 



With breathless attention Ualla now listened at the entrance of the 

 apartment, to catch the faintest sound of her lover's footstep. The 

 morning breeze, sighing through the obscure dismantled chambers of 

 the dwelling of her sires, was the only response to her listening ear. 

 Yet there was a sound at length. It came nearer and nearer. And 

 now it resembled the tread of an armed warrior. Hernando, himself, 

 appeared, but he came not alone ; Juan Di Alcantara, the chief of the 

 Spanish foe^ and the object of Ualla's terror and abhorrence, accom- 

 panied her brave protector. They entered as men whom different 

 motives had drawn to the same spot. The noble Castilian, Hernando 

 Di Valverde, advanced with stern brow and authoritative mien. His 

 look of sui-prise shewed that the hour of the Indian's extremity had 

 been accelerated by the impatient rapacity of his European conqueror. 

 With a manly tenderness, which rendered him indifferent to the scorn- 

 ful smile of his compatriot, Hernando supported the terrified and half- 

 fainting j'oung Indian, and spoke words of comfort and encouragement 

 in her ear. He then waved his hand authoritatively to the ministers of 

 Juan's tyranny, who, receiving no countersign from their chief, withdrew. 

 Hernando approached the fallen cazique. Struck with the unquenched 

 fire of his eye, and respecting the courage and former exploits of 

 his brave adversary, Hernando, not without somewhat of deference in 

 his manners, raised the chained and fallen cazique from his appalling 

 situation, and placed him beside his daughter. " You are brave, Don 

 Juan," he said, unable longer to smother the indignation which policy 

 and the desire of retaining power to protect the father and daughter 

 had, hitherto, urged him to conceal ; " you are brave, but, methinks, 

 it asks small courage to wage warfare with women and captives. Had 

 I not reasonably appeared (God knoweth, little guessing your diligence 

 began so early), yon white-haired old man had, ere this, scarce owned 

 a limb to stand on. For xliame, Juan Di Alcantara, /or shame! In 

 blind and unacceptable zeal, you bid your servile priest to sprinkle 

 these unbaptized subjects of your sword, with the healing wave of our 

 pure sacrament, while you fearlessly and foully pollute its holy waters 

 with the iimocent blood of those you pretend to convert. IBut you 

 shall not thus trample on man's rights and God's mercy, witliout 

 warning ; I, for one, will dare to lift up my voice against you. What, 

 ho ! executioners, remove this foul engine, and bring it hither again at 

 yonr peril." — "At your peril touch it;" exclaimed Juan furiously. 

 " Base patron of wretched idolators, besotted lover of an Indian savage. 



