At Truxillo, Pizarro put himself at the head of his little army,
and moved without loss of time against San Miguel. His rival,
eager to bring their quarrel to an issue, would fain have marched
out to give him battle; but his soldiers, mostly young and
inexperienced levies, hastily brought together, were intimidated
by the name of Pizarro. They loudly insisted on being led into
the upper country, where they would be reinforced by Benalcazar;
and their unfortunate commander, like the rider of some
unmanageable steed, to whose humors he is obliged to submit, was
hurried away in a direction contrary to his wishes. It was the
fate of Blasco Nunez to have his purposes baffled alike by his
friends and his enemies.
On arriving before San Miguel, Gonzalo Pizarro found, to his
great mortification, that his antagonist had left it. Without
entering the town, he quickened his pace, and, after traversing a
valley of some extent, reached the skirts of a mountain chain,
into which Blasco Nunez had entered but a few hours before. It
was late in the evening; but Pizarro, knowing the importance of
despatch, sent forward Carbajal with a party of light troops to
overtake the fugitives. That captain succeeded in coming up with
their lonely bivouac among the mountains at midnight, when the
weary troops were buried in slumber. Startled from their repose
by the blast of the trumpet, which, strange to say, their enemy
had incautiously sounded, *6 the viceroy and his men sprang to
their feet, mounted their horses, grasped their arquebuses, and
poured such a volley into the ranks of their assailants, that
Carbajal, disconcerted by his reception, found it prudent, with
his inferior force, to retreat.
Pages:
861
862
863
864
865
866
867
868
869
870
871
872
873
874
875
876
877
878
879
880
881
882
883
884
885