mendacious chronicle leaves him on the throne, just after having joined the empire of the Mamalucos to that of Paraguay, and promising to give the world more of his history when it comes to hand. By stories such as those contained in the mendacious little book imprinted at St. Paul, the easy-minded public—then, as now, always more easily impressed with lies than with the truth—was biassed against the Jesuits in Paraguay. Father Dobrizhoffer,[295] who knew ‘King’ Nicolas from his youth up, has left a very different version of his history, in which no Donna della Cupidità or de la Victoria even remotely flourishes. Nicolas Ñeenguiru was born in the township of La Concepcion, of which in after-life he rose to be the mayor. He married an Indian woman, not ‘une belle Andalouse’, and Dobrizhoffer says a friend of his, one Father Zierheim, had him whipped publicly for petty theft when a young man. At the time (1753) when, in company with another Indian, one José, mayor of San Miguel, he headed the Indian revolt, he was a man of middle age, tall, taciturn and grave, and not ill-looking, though marked across the cheek with a disfiguring scar. At no time was he even a lay brother of the Jesuit Order, as by their rules in Paraguay no Indians were ever taken either as lay brothers or as priests. So little was the man feared by the authorities that, once the Indians’ resistance was over, Nicolas went to the Spanish camp, was quietly heard, dismissed, and then continued in his office as the mayor of his native place. The legend sprang from a mistake in Guaraní, to which perhaps a little malice gave its artful charm. In Guaraní the word ‘Rubicha’ signifies a chief, whereas ‘Nfurabicha’ means king. The two, pronounced by one but ill acquainted with the language sound identical. Nothing was more likely than that the Indians should call their general their chief; had they thought really of settling upon a king, it is certain that they would have chosen one of the family of some well-known chief, and not an Indian merely appointed mayor by the Jesuits. But be that as it may, General Ñeenguiru, though he has left some interesting letters, which are preserved in the archives of Simancas, showed no capacity for generalship.[296] Throughout the course of the campaign he endeavoured to replace his want of skill by tricks and by intrigues, but of so futile a nature that they were frustrated and rendered useless at once. His first endeavour was to gain time, when he found himself with seventeen hundred men opposed to Andonaegui, Governor of Buenos Ayres, who had an army well equipped with guns, of about two thousand men. Ñeenguiru wrote to Andonaegui, telling him that the Indians were ready to submit, and then, whilst waiting for an answer, set about fortifying the position which he held. Warned by a spy, Andonaegui attacked at once, and drove the Indians from their trenches like a flock of sheep, taking their wooden cannon,