A month later, and Arequipa was wild with excitement. War had been declared by Chile against allied Peru and Bolivia. It was a sad blow, as Peru had been extremely prosperous and was rapidly forging ahead in the commerce of the world. I had concluded to leave the country and seek some other field, when a call was made to the railroad men to assist the government to convey troops from the interior to the coast. I responded and was sent to Santa Rosa on the proposed railway to Cusco, the ancient capital of Peru. Here a great number of Indians were huddled together to be sent to Arequipa, and drilled and sent to the coast. They were abject and disconsolate. The priests were calling on them to be brave and return victorious. These people had never seen the ocean and had never lived in an altitude of less than two miles. There was much suffering in store for them under the tropic sun of the coast. I asked an officer if he thought these men would make good soldiers. He replied with an air of great importance, and looking quite serious, that he had received word that the Chilean navy was coming to bombard Mollendo, and it was his intention to instruct the Indians in the use of the rifle. When the ships came near enough, he would station his men among the rocks and shoot the sailors off the decks. This, too, with flint lock rifles--a sample of the calibre of the Peruvian officer of the interior and his unfortunate Indian soldiers. After getting to the head of the Tambo valley, I proceeded to Mollendo and found a terrible state of affairs. Everyone was expecting the Chilean fleet; men and women were carrying their household goods to the mountains. At sight of every ship on the horizon, whether sailing vessel or steamer, a cry would go forth--"They come--they come!" The greatest confusion prevailed. There was no organization, no discipline; everybody for himself, and all running at the cry of--"They come!" One morning about ten o'clock the hostile fleet did come. XVII. THE BARBARIAN MEETS HIS INGOMAR. A heavy fog was clearing from the sea, when from out of the mist rose the black hull and conning tower of the Cochrane. The senior officers of the flagship stood grouped on the starboard rail. The wind changed suddenly to the west, and, as it changed, it rolled up patches of the fog and revealed the black hull and conning tower of the Enlado. A heavy cloud of smoke poured from their funnels; decks cleared for action when they should put into practice the desperate objects of their existence. A boat was lowered from the flagship and rowed to the wharf of Mollendo by sturdy Chileans, while an officer bore a message to the Prefecto for all noncombatants to leave the city, as bombardment would begin in an hour.