Now, although our Indians made splendid soldiers, they hated the Spaniards so much that it was difficult to restrain their passions. Some excuse may be found for them in the long years of misery and oppression they had endured; but, of course, Jose set his face sternly against cruelties. Thus it was in our enemies' own interest that I raised my voice, crying, "Surrender, and we will spare your lives! You cannot escape!" And Jose echoed my appeal. He, too, dreaded the slaughter that must ensue if our Indians got out of hand. Perhaps the Spaniards guessed our motive; at least they must have seen the futility of continuing the contest. One by one they flung their weapons sullenly to the ground, and yielded themselves prisoners. "Torches!" cried Jose quickly, "and let us examine our capture. Where is Colonel La Hera?" No one spoke, but several Indians plucked blazing brands from the fire and brought them to us. By their light we saw one man lying dead near the windlass, and three wounded. Six others, disarmed, stood round, for the most part black-browed and scowling. Jose repeated his question. "Where is Colonel La Hera?" he asked. "Gone to get reinforcements to drive you into the sea," answered a calm voice. "Then he is not in this cave?" asked Jose bluntly, but with a certain ring of admiration in his tone. Now all this time I had been taking particular notice of this Spaniard. His uniform showed him to be a major, though he was quite young. His face was frank and open; he had dark, expressive eyes, and a pleasant, musical voice, which somehow seemed familiar to me. Where had I met this man before? In a moment or two he himself supplied the answer. "Who is in command here?" asked Jose. "I have the honour, and, as it seems, the misfortune also, of commanding these brave fellows. I am Major Santiago Mariano, in the service of His Spanish Majesty, whom may God preserve!" "I wish him no harm," replied Jose; "only for the future he must not reckon Peru among his dominions. Now, how am I to know that La Hera is not here?" "Ask the man who betrayed us," said the major scornfully; and on questioning the Indian, it appeared he had mistaken Santiago for the famous colonel. "Well," muttered Jose, "it's a disappointment; but it can't be helped. What are we to do with the wounded? They can't go down the rope." "Let me stay with them," I suggested, "and you can send a doctor back." "Meanwhile," interrupted the major, "I have some little skill in surgery, and, with your permission, I will remain also. You need not fear that I shall run away. I will give my parole to come to Moquegua. After that, matters must shape their own course." "Very well," exclaimed Jose; "the plan has its advantages. I'll hurry along the first doctor I come across, Jack. But you are hurt!" "It's only a scratch; nothing serious at all."