ople were brought out of the prison--men, women, and children--
and were marched up to the stakes, and bound to them with cords. Last
of all came a man, whom I soon saw was the Inca, for he was dressed as
he was on the day of the battle, and looked a real king, every inch of
him. They made him stand up on the platform, and look down on what was
going on below.

"They first shot all the children, and then they set fire to the wood,
and burnt the women, and then the men; and, would you believe it, among
them was the wife of the Inca, and his children, and his brothers, and
nephews and nieces. He didn't utter a cry or a groan, but kept looking
on as if his eyes would start out of his head; but they, poor creatures,
shrieked out for mercy from men who hadn't got any in their natures.

"When the rest were dead, they put some faggots under the platform, and
burnt the brave fellow where he stood. The people shouted and rejoiced
as if they had done something to be proud of. I couldn't stand it any
longer, so I hurried away from the place; for I heard that all the
Indian prisoners in the city were next to be shot, and that there were
some hundreds of them. I got into talk with a number of people. From
some I heard one thing, and from some another; but what I made out was,
that young Andres, the Inca's son, with several other chiefs, were still
in arms in the south; but that the Spaniards had sent for troops from
all parts of America; and that, by fair means or foul, they were
resolved to destroy every Indian, till the war was finished. When I
found that I could learn nothing more, I waited till night, and climbed
over the walls. I then ran on as fast as my legs could carry me, till I
got back to the wood, where I found my guide. Thinking I might be
pursued, as I have no doubt I was, we made a very roundabout course, and
kept a bright look-out for enemies on every side. We managed to keep
clear of them, however, but were very hard up for food; and I'm not
sorry, let me tell you, mate, to find myself safe back again here."

Such was the substance of Ned's account. Prepared, as in a great degree
Manco had been, he was dreadfully affected by it, and for some time
could come to no resolution what course to take. Had he been alone, he
would at once have decided to join Andres, and endeavour still to make
head against the Spaniards; but Nita and his child were in the other
scale. At last he announced his resolution of qu