Had the Inca come as a humble suppliant, the fate of the nation might have been postponed, if not altogether altered.  The appearance of these resplendent beings signalled its instant doom.  As Atahualpa was borne on his litter of state towards where Pizarro stood expectant in front of his soldiers, a priest strode forward, and, approaching him, urged him heatedly to embrace the religion of the Cross.

It is certain that the Inca understood nothing whatever of what was going on.  What might have been his state of mind when he was handed the breviary is unknown; in any case he flung it to the ground.  This was the signal for the attack on the part of the Spaniards.  Drawing their swords, they flung themselves furiously upon the altogether unprepared Indians, slaying thousands of their numbers.  Pizarro himself, hacking and striking as he went, fought his way to the Inca’s litter of state, and it was his own hand which dragged the unfortunate ruler from his golden chair.  The next moment he was guarding his captive fiercely from the chance blows which were rained upon the dusky monarch by the Spaniards who went charging by.  He knew well enough the value of the Inca alive and captive in his hands.  It was for this reason alone that he warded off the blows which his men would have dealt the fallen Child of the Sun.

[Illustration:  A PERUVIAN CASSE-TETE AND A PIPE OF PEACE.

From “Histoire des Yncas."]

The main onslaught had now died away.  The field of the massacre was covered with the bodies of the dead and dying Peruvians; the rest had fled.  Pizarro lost no time in improving the occasion from a financial point of view.  A gallant knight, Fernando de Soto, was sent to the marvellous city of Cuzco—­authorized both by the Inca and Pizarro—­to despoil the temples of their treasures.  Thus enormous hoards of gold and silver were obtained from the sacred buildings and from Atahualpa’s loyal subjects as his ransom.

Even here Pizarro showed his want of good faith, for when the treasure demanded had been given up and amassed, he still retained the person of the Inca.  Matters of policy and personal dislike soon sealed the fate of this latter.  In 1533 he was tried for his life.  After a parodied performance of justice he was executed, although Fernando de Soto and a number of other Spaniards protested vigorously against the act.

From a purely political point of view it is likely enough that the crime was profitable; in any case it sent a shock throughout the bounds of the Inca Empire from which its dusky inhabitants never afterwards fully recovered.  There was now no powerful claimant to the Inca throne.  The wrongs suffered by the race at the hands of the Spaniards need not cover the fact that the Indians themselves frequently proved capable of tyrannical and sanguinary acts.  Thus on the news of Atahualpa’s capture his enraged adherents had slain Huasca, who by that time had become a prisoner in their hands.