CHAPTER X—IN THE HANDS OF THE INCAS
Even then Frank and Bob would have fought for their freedom, stupefied though they were. In fact Bob, who had fallen to the ground in tumbling from the hammock, had seized his gun which was standing against the tree, but the commanding voice of the glittering stranger again bade him forebear.
“Behold, we, too, have fire sticks that speak with tongues of flame and carry the unseen death.”
He swept his hand again around the clearing. And the two young fellows saw in the hands of the score of men ringing them ’round, weapons mounted in silver and gold and ancient in appearance, yet firearms, nevertheless, it was not to be doubted.
“Lower your gun, Bob, but don’t relinquish it,” whispered Frank, in English. Then in Spanish, and seeking to put into his voice all the imperiousness which he could summon, he added:
“We are travelers on peaceful business. By what right do you steal upon us like this? Surely,” he added, in a tone of scorn, “you are not thieves who would rob us of our few belongings.”
“You come into a land whence no man may bear report abroad,” said the other, darkly. “Yet fear not. Your lives are not in danger, if you will but yield peacefully. And”—he added, simply—“if you would fight, these would die for me. Though some be killed, yet can you not hope to escape.”
The two looked at each other.
“Ask him where the others are,” said Bob. “I can hardly understand his lingo. Sounds like Spanish, all right, yet it’s a new kind of Spanish to me. You get along better than I do, so fire away.”
“We had some friends,” began Frank. But he was interrupted.
“They are alive and in our hands,” said the stranger. “Speak. Will you fight or submit?”
“And you promise we shall not be slain?” asked Frank.
He realized that such a promise would not be worth much, perhaps, yet that it would be suicidal to attempt to fight. As the stranger had said, though they might kill some of the enemy, yet inevitably they must themselves be slain. They were hemmed in, and without shelter, and the men ringing them ’round were determined-looking fellows of military bearing.
“I have said,” answered the leader.
“Then we surrender,” said Frank. “But I warn you that we are citizens of the United States and that our government will demand an accounting for us.”
The leader regarded them with a slight trace of bewilderment. Then his face cleared, and he said:
“I do not understand your words. But suffice it you are in the Forbidden Land. Now lay down your sticks of fire.”
The boys complied. As they bent over, their heads close together, Frank whispered in a low voice:
“We’re up against it, Bob. He never heard of the United States.”
At a sign from the leader, two men advanced to the sides of each of the boys, deprived them of their revolvers, and then, disdaining to tie their hands, led them to one side. There Bob and Frank stood, a soldier on each side of him, clad in tunic and soft leather boots, and looked on while the others of the company packed up the camp baggage, struck the tents, led up the mules from their pasturage nearby, and loaded them. Camp was struck in an incredibly short time, and they started downstream and out of the valley.
The leader of the party had a proud, hawklike face, and as he strode ahead, Frank’s eyes kept returning fascinatedly to that profile.
“Bob,” he said, “I’ll bet we’ve fallen into the hands of the Incas.”
His speech was in English, but at the concluding word the soldiers guarding him looked sharply at Frank. The leader, too, spun around. He glanced sharply at the boys, then once more looked away. No word was said. But both boys noted the glances cast at them, and both were quick to understand.
Incas! Frank had guessed correctly.
“Did you see that?” asked Frank.
Bob nodded.
“Well, Bob, we’re in for the experience of our lives. And as long as Jack and his father and the rest of the party are all right, I can’t say that I object. We’ve stumbled on the Enchanted City, or I miss my guess. At least, we’ve gotten near it, and have been taken prisoner by the inhabitants. But think of finding descendants of those old boys, after all these centuries, hidden away from the world, and not a soul knowing anything about it.
“Why, Bob, there has been nothing like it in history.”
Bob nodded, but his voice was more sober as he replied:
“Yes, it’s a pretty safe guess that we’ve found what we came searching for. But from all appearances, we may not be able to leave it. Didn’t that chap call this the ‘Forbidden Land?’”
“Yes.”
“And didn’t he say something about our being in a place of which no report was allowed to get out?”
“Yes.”
“That’s what I thought. But I couldn’t understand him very well. My Spanish isn’t the best in the world, anyhow.”
“He speaks what I expect is very ancient Spanish,” Frank replied. “You know the story—how those old Spaniards stayed and intermarried. Well, the language has been handed down. It’s hard for me to understand, but I can make out what he means well enough.”
Both boys had been careful not again to mention the word “Inca,” which originally had stirred the interest of their captors. They walked along in silence, until Bob presently resumed.
“Well, what I started to say was that it looks to me as if the reason why no report of the Enchanted City has ever gotten out is that they have captured whoever came near them and either killed them or taken them into the tribe.”
“Tribe?” Frank laughed. “These aren’t wild Indians. They are members of the strangest race in the history of the world, or I miss my guess.”
“What do you think we’ll find?”
“I don’t know, Bob. But you can count on its being something marvellous. Look how these men obey their leader. He must be a prince of the royal blood. But look what we’re coming to.”
The travel along the stream carried them into an ever-narrowing valley which finally became a gorge, and now, as Frank let the exclamation escape him, this gorge broadened out suddenly on the other side and a beautiful valley lay below. In the middle shone a great lake. It was this which Jack had seen from his lofty eyrie in the treetop. Farther off shone other and smaller lakes. Frank counted them. Three.
“The valley told of by de Pereira,” he exclaimed.
“Look, Frank.”
Frank’s gaze followed Bob’s outflung hand. A little way ahead was a considerable body of men of the same sort as their captors. They were resting on a meadow beneath the shade of a gigantic tree. In their midst the boys could make out a number of forms—Jack, Mr. Hampton, the de Avilars, father and son, Carlos and Pedro.
Frank and Bob raised a glad shout of “Jack, Jack. Hello, fellows.”
At the same moment, they were seen. Answering cries came to them. They marched down into the meadow, and the two parties came together. A confused medley of handclasping followed. Evidently, their arrival had been expected, for preparations for moving on at once were in evidence.
The leader of the party who had captured Bob and Frank now approached Mr. Hampton and Senor Don de Avilar.
“We shall embark in boats,” said he. “I have your interest in mind, and you will be permitted to converse one with another, even in the tongue of the young men which is strange to us.”
“Don Ernesto,” said Mr. Hampton to his friend, “you seem to understand this chap better than any of us. Will you ask him where we are being taken?”
Don Ernesto nodded, then turned to the other. After a few sentences, their voices dropped and they drew apart. When Don Ernesto rejoined the group, and the other turned to issue some orders to his men, his eyes shone.
“Senor Hampton,” said he, in an awed tone, “it is as you surmised. These are Incas of the Enchanted City into whose hands we have fallen. This chap is a prince of the royal house. I am not certain, and I had but little time for conversation, yet from something he said, I gather that the reigning family has in it the blood of de Arguello, leader of that old band of Spaniards, as well as the royal Inca strain. Doubtless, too, the nobles have Spanish blood, but that is merely surmise. As to where we are being taken, we are bound for what this chap, Prince Huaca, calls ‘The Fair City,’ We are to cross the lake in boats, and, when we arrive at the landing, we shall be blindfolded, he says, and led ‘through the mountain.’”
“By George,” said Mr. Hampton, “we’re in for it. Well, we may as well put a brave face on the matter. It looks dark now, yet we have found what we came to look for; and remember, you boys, the battle is never lost until defeat is admitted.”
This he said to hearten the boys. Yet the advice was unnecessary. They had listened to Don Ernesto with close attention, and as Mr. Hampton gazed from one to the other, he found their eyes alight.
“Why, I don’t believe you boys are worried at all,” he said, banteringly.
“Why worry, Dad?” said Jack. “As you said, ’the battle isn’t lost until you are counted out.’ I, for one, am tickled to death with the adventure. And I know Bob and Frank and Ferdinand are the same.”
The others nodded.
“Well, here we go, down to the boats,” said Frank. “So, as long as we may talk to each other, tell us how you fellows were captured, and we’ll give our story.”
CHAPTER XI—INTO THE MOUNTAIN
The accounts of how Mr. Hampton and Don Ernesto and Carlos, and of how Jack, Ferdinand and Pedro were captured, differed little from the tale of the capture of the camp. Each party had been surrounded by an overwhelming number of the Incas, and had seen the folly of putting up a fight and so had surrendered.
As they moved in the midst of their captors down the sloping meadow to the shore of the great lake, sparkling and calm under the mid-morning sun, these stories were quickly told. At the shore, the Incas embarked in several great canoes holding a score of men each. The prisoners, however, were placed aboard a state barge in which Prince Huaca also embarked. The barge rowed forty oars, twenty to a side.
Paddles dipped in unison, and the canoes were off. The oars of the great barge flashed in and out in perfect time, and it, too, moved away in stately fashion, with the prisoners left to themselves on the half-deck at the bow, while Prince Huaca took his post on the other half-deck at the stern. The rowers could be seen bending back and forth, back muscles rippling under their tunics, in the waist of the barge.
“Am I dreaming?” said Frank.
Mr. Hampton nodded.
“It is hard to believe, isn’t it, Frank?”
“Hard? It’s impossible to believe. Why, this is like stepping back thousands of years to the shores of the Mediterranean and the Greek galleys of the days before Christ.”
“These fellows seem like Greeks or Romans, too,” mused Mr. Hampton. “The commoners, with their bobbed hair, their tunics and sandals, and Prince Huaca, proud and stately as a Roman noble, are not exactly what one would expect to find in the world of today.”
Don Ernesto agreed. The remark opened another line of thought.
“See how openly they operate on this lake, and in this valley,” he said. “Look around you, too. So far as I can observe, there is only the one entrance of the pass through which we were brought. Can it be that the Incas maintain frontier guards, so to speak, on perpetual watch to capture any intruders into this wild region who threaten discovery of their secret? I begin to believe so. Perhaps guards are on duty on the mountain tops about us, and others in the valley beyond the pass.”
This, they later learned, was the actual state of affairs. Not only were frontier guards kept on constant duty about the great valley in which they now found themselves, but also about the inner valley holding the Enchanted City, to which they were being taken. Moreover, such watch had been maintained down the centuries.
The prospect that greeted their eyes was wonderfully beautiful. The lake itself was some five miles long, but only one in width. As they now approached the shore opposite, they descried a stone jetty, for one side of which the canoes headed, while the barge was brought up on the other. They were disembarked and marched ashore under escort of Prince Huaca and twenty men. The others remained by their craft.
At the end of the jetty a guard house of stone was passed. What surprised the boys beyond measure was to see the half dozen sentries drawn up in military formation, present arms with their silver-mounted muskets as Prince Huaca passed.
“I can’t believe it,” muttered Frank. “Incas presenting arms!”
Mr. Hampton offered a solution.
“Perhaps some adventurer captured by them, as were we, has instructed them in military tactics.”
Ahead through a copse of trees lay a country home of stone, and toward this Prince Huaca bent his steps. On nearer approach they could see the stone was beautifully chiselled, and the house nobly proportioned with a broad portico in front, through the supporting pillars of which they could see a courtyard, around the sides of which the dwelling was constructed.
At the command of Prince Huaca, the guard halted at the foot of a broad flight of stone steps with the prisoners, while the prince mounted and disappeared into a door on the left of the courtyard. The captives now had a chance to look about them. Although about the house, or, better, the mansion itself, no figures were to be seen, there was a constant coming and going in what they took to be the servants’ quarters which lay considerably to the left.
Horses were being watered in one spot, out of a great trough, and then led back to the fields which stretched on every hand. Don Ernesto exclaimed at this sight.
“Those are Argentinian horses,” said he, with conviction. “The early Spaniards who colonized the region of La Plata were enjoined by their monarchs to bring over a certain number of head of horses and of cattle for their own use, and a certain number to be turned loose to breed. Thus the great herds of wild horses and cattle which used to thunder over the Pampas, but since have been largely exterminated or brought under herd, came into existence.”
“And you think——”
“Yes, Senor Hampton, that is what I believe. These horses either wandered thus far across the mountains, which seems preposterous, or, as is more likely, were captured by scouting parties and brought hither. The intermixture among the Incas of Spaniards in de Arguello’s early expedition or of adventurers captured since, as is more likely, told the Incas of these horses, and mayhap even helped to capture them.”
“This valley is certainly marvellous,” declared Mr. Hampton, shading his eyes with his hand, as he gazed about him in the bright sunlight. “Notice those irrigation ditches, carrying water to the fields everywhere from the lakes. Why, this is so intensively cultivated, it can raise sufficient food for a great city without difficulty.”
Don Ernesto nodded.
“The ancient Incas were fine agriculturists,” said he. “They practised irrigation, and had a very good knowledge of culture of the soil. These, their descendants, seem to be no whit behind them.”
At this moment they were interrupted by an exclamation from Frank, who pointed to two figures approaching them across the lawn. They were Prince Huaca and another young man dressed as he, evidently a noble. He was regarding them with curiosity. He did not address them, however, but the two halted at a little distance and concluded their conversation, during all of which time the stranger regarded them with bright quick glances.
Then he bowed to Prince Huaca, and the latter issued a command at which the guard started forward with the prisoners in their midst. They moved down the great driveway from the mansion to a highroad crossing the valley to the encircling mountains. Jack looked back as they reached the highroad, and saw the figure of the young noble, immobile, staring after them.
“He certainly was curious,” he commented.
Frank, who marched beside him, shook his head.
“I believe I know what was in his mind,” said he.
“What?” Jack glanced at him curiously.
“I don’t know—maybe I’m wrong—but it seemed to me there was a look of longing in his eyes—as if he wondered about the great outside world, perhaps, from which we came.”
Mr. Hampton, who had overheard, threw Frank an understanding and approving glance.
“You have an observant mind, Frank,” he said. “It is not unlikely that a gallant young fellow like that noble would wonder about the world beyond, and think at times that he would like, perhaps, to penetrate it. And your words give me an idea. We will bear in mind the possibility of young blood becoming irked at this self-immurement, no matter how idyllic the conditions. Perhaps, if no other way of escape suggests itself, we may induce some such young fellow to aid us by painting to him the wonders of the world to which we can introduce him.”
The party moved along in silence, until Bob declared:
“Fellows, did you ever see a finer road?”
The highway upon which they had entered from the estate drive was, indeed, a fine thoroughfare. It was made of concrete, and so broad that, a procession of farm carts drawn by horses, approaching from the opposite direction, was enabled to pass, although they moved three abreast.
“Ah, these Incas once more resemble their ancestors,” said Don Ernesto.
“Yes, they were great road-builders,” said Mr. Hampton.
“Great road-builders, indeed,” Don Ernesto rejoined. “When the Conquerors entered the Peruvian empire under Pizarro, they found the Incas had built a road not then equalled in any part of the world, perhaps not even equalled today. It was a road even finer than anything built by Rome. For more than twelve hundred miles it extended, bringing into communication all the provinces of the empire.
“Moreover, it must be remembered that road was built at a great elevation through the mountains, all of which added to the difficulty of the enterprise. At some places it was more than 12,000 feet above sea level. It went northward from Cusco to a point beyond Quito, in the province of Guaca, and southward from Cusco to Chuquisaca, not far from the mines of Potosi.
“You boys,” he added, “can better appreciate the magnitude of this road, if I tell you it was as far as a road from Calais to Constantinople, and through mountainous country immeasurably more difficult to travel than any country in Europe. In some places, the beds of concrete or mezcla, of which the road was formed, went down from 80 to 100 feet. The rains have since washed the earth away from under the concrete, for, I am sorry to say, the Conquerors and the later Viceroys of Spain did not see fit to care for this highway. Yet masses of it today are left suspended over washouts like bridges made of one stone, as the historian Velasco said.
“There was also a lower road, about forty leagues distant from the other, which traversed the plains country near the sea. And along both these roads, at equal distances, were built stone inns, called tambos by the natives. The word has persisted, and is still used throughout the Inca country, to describe a post house on a highroad.
“In fact,” he concluded, “it was the existence of these roads which, ironically, helped to destroy the Inca Empire. For over them the invading armies of the Spaniards were able to move with speed.”
As Don Ernesto had talked, they had continued moving forward at a brisk pace, and had drawn close to the base of a lofty mountain. Now the road began to mount, in some places the going being so steep that concrete stairways were built. Up this the guards with the prisoners, and with Prince Huaca at the head, moved steadily. With each upward step, they were enabled to see more of the valley outspread below them, the great lake, the three smaller bodies of water, the irrigation ditches like a network of bright ribbons, the little clumps of trees surrounding other country mansions like that they had stopped at, and everywhere laborers were at work in the fields.
“Truly a marvellous sight,” said Mr. Hampton, as they came to a halt at length on a wide concreted terrace with a low stone wall at the front, very thick, and loopholed, and with a stone building of fortress-like strength built at the back, seemingly into the side of the mountain. Here the path up which they climbed appeared to end.
“Senor,” said Prince Huaca to Don Ernesto, in his archaic Spanish, “here you will be blindfolded, your hands will be tied, and we enter the mountains. Fear not. There is no evil intended.”
“Very well,” said Don Ernesto with a shrug.
Guards tied each man’s hands behind his back, blindfolds were adjusted, shutting out all light, and then, with a man on each side to act as guide, they were led up a flight of steps, into what they took to be a fortress, and presently, after treading across a wide room, passed through a doorway and, by the cool and slightly earthy feel of the air, surmised they were in a tunnel.
CHAPTER XII—IMPRISONED IN THE ACROPOLIS
“What a tremendous engineering feat to have been accomplished without modern machinery,” said Mr. Hampton, at one stage of their journey through the tunnel. The words were surprised from him. “It seems,” he added, “like an impossible task.”
Jack, who was close to him, heard the remarks, and agreed with his father.
“I hope,” he added, “they haven’t brought us this long distance, merely to tumble us into some bottomless pit in the heart of the mountain.”
“Don’t worry, my boy,” his father replied. “I have only a hazy idea as to what our fate is to be, but I am certain it is not that.”
“What do you think they will do with us, Dad?”
Mr. Hampton considered.
“Probably give us the option of becoming citizens of their state,” he said, “or of refusing our parole and being imprisoned, and put to work under guard.”
“Wouldn’t they kill us, if we refuse to become citizens?”
“I don’t know, Jack, but I doubt it.”
In reality, Mr. Hampton was beginning to be filled with dark forebodings, as successive developments impressed him more and more with the power of this unknown race. But he did not want Jack to experience any fear, and spoke in a tone of conviction which he was far from feeling.
The progress through the tunnel seemed interminable, especially inasmuch as they were blindfolded, while their captors, they knew, bore lighted torches. But long as was the journey, they at length emerged from the tunnel and into another fortress. That such was the case, they could tell from the difference in the atmosphere. Their blindfolds, however, were not removed, nor were the lashings binding their hands behind them.
They were halted in a great room, while around them was a buzz of voices.
“When are they going to take off these blinkers?” Bob muttered.
“I imagine, Bob,” said Mr. Hampton, who overheard, “that we will be led elsewhere before the blindfolds are removed. They will want to hide from us the secret of the exit through the tunnel. Once we are in the city, we shall be as if sealed up.”
Such, indeed, proved to be the case. From the guardhouse, they were taken out into the open air. They could feel the hot sun beating upon them. For a considerable distance they were marched through the streets of the city. They could hear the exclamations of the populace, as they passed along, in the midst of their guards, and they had the feeling several times of crossing great open squares.
No demonstrations occurred, and at length they were led up several flights of stairs, in through a great gateway where soldiers evidently were stationed, as challenges were given and answered in the Inca tongue, across a stone-flagged courtyard, and into a building.
Here at length the blindfolds were removed, their wrists untied, and they could look about at their surroundings. They were in a lofty-ceiled room, walls and roof of which were of stone. The room was of great size, and there were scores of soldiery scattered about, mending tunics, polishing arms, or gossiping. It was the great assembly hall of a fortress. Had they known, this was at the exit of the tunnel, and the tour through the city had been made to confuse them.
Prince Huaca approached, and addressed himself as before to Don Ernesto, whom he evidently took to be the leader of the expedition.
“Senor,” said he, “you are now in the central fortress of the city. You will be given quarters and food. Tomorrow I shall call upon you, and explain. Until then you will consider yourselves prisoners, but, as you are under my protection, no harm need be feared.”
Turning abruptly, he motioned a man bearing a great brass ring from which depended a number of heavy keys, to approach. He delivered a command in the Inca tongue, to which the other listened respectfully. Then once more he addressed Don Ernesto.
“You will follow this man.”
Led by the jailer, and escorted by a half dozen armed men, the party crossed the great hall, passed through a doorway into a dark corridor, lighted only by unglazed slits in the walls, mounted a flight of stone steps, proceeded along another dark corridor, and then entered a room luxuriously furnished. The jailer motioned them in and, by signs, indicated this was to be their quarters.
Thereupon, he left, swinging shut a tremendous metal door. The key grated in the lock. They were alone. The first thing, Jack went up to the door, and a moment later, he exclaimed in excitement:
“Dad, it’s bronze.”
Mr. Hampton moved to his side.
“By George, that’s so.”
Meantime, the others were examining the room. The floor was of stone, and here and there were thick woven rugs of alpaca wool, died in brilliant colors. About the sides stood wooden couches with thick mattresses upon them, over which were thrown covers in vivid dyes. In the middle of the room was a great table of stone, of beautiful work-manship, Food was set upon it, ready for their coming, but as Frank, who was first to make the discovery, approached the table, his eyes almost popped from his head and his voice shook with excitement, as he cried:
“Fellows, look here. Gold and silver dishes, or I’ll eat my hat.”
He was correct. Salvers, platters, great bowls, all were of gold, and the spoons of silver.
Frank clasped his head in his hands with a melodramatic gesture.
“They oughtn’t to spring everything on us at once,” he said. “I can’t stand much of this.”
All gathered around the massive table, and from each was wrung some expression of surprise and delight. The dishes were examined closely as possible, although numbers of the larger articles could not be taken up and handled because they contained food.
“Well,” said Don Ernesto, at length, “I, for one, am famished. Suppose we dine before the food becomes cold.”
He stirred the contents of the largest bowl with a great silver spoon.
“Apparently a vegetable stew,” he said. “The odor is delicious. Come, I shall fill these smaller bowls and let each help himself. I promise you I shall eat heartily.”
“Would they poison the food, perhaps, Father?” Ferdinand inquired.
“That is a foolish idea, Ferdinand. They might have disposed of us otherwise long ere this. Come, eat.”
All fell to with a good appetite, the two Chilian huachos, old retainers of Don Ernesto, taking their bowls apart and sitting on one of the great couches, talking together in low tones. The others stood about the table, exclaiming at this and that, the excellence of the food, the beauty of the dishes, while Don Ernesto—a polished conversationalist—held forth at length upon the advantages of a vegetable diet.
“You see, there is no meat here,” said he. “Perhaps these Incas are vegetarians. For such dieting goes with civilization. It is only the savages who eat nothing but meat.”
Presently, Bob and Frank, having finished their meal, wandered off to a loopholed wall at the far end of the room. These loopholes were long and narrow slits, and at their first glimpse through them, both boys cried out excitedly.
“What is it?” cried Jack and Ferdinand, running up. The older men also approached.
“Look here, Jack,” said Frank, while Bob made place at his loophole for Ferdinand. The older men found others through which to gaze—long, narrow apertures in the solid masonry.
Because of the thickness of the walls, the view was limited. Apparently, however, they were located on a side of the fortress which formed one of the outer walls, and because of the distance to the city seen below, this wall evidently crowned a great rock. Later, they were to learn that the rock upon which the Acropolis was built had been quarried and squared until it rose 200 feet above the city, the walls sheer, and approachable only upon one side.
The hour was past noon, and from the direction of the sun they could see the valley in which lay the Enchanted City stretched east and west. They faced the east and, high though their altitude was, they could see in the distance lofty mountain peaks crowned with snows.
But it was the city itself which caused each man to gasp at first sight. Everywhere nearby, showing the Acropolis was at the center of things, were great stone palaces, some private dwellings and some quite obviously public buildings. And the roofs shone in the sun as if made of gold.
“Copper,” explained Mr. Hampton, succinctly. “Probably they have a mine somewhere near.”
Beyond the palaces could be seen streets and squares and smaller houses, all of stone. Trees grew everywhere, adding to the charm of the scene.
Greatest sight of all, however, was the huge central square at the base of the Acropolis. Due to their height, only that part of the square opposite could be seen. Yet that view was sufficient to give an idea of the size of the square.
Opposite the fortress stood the Temple, a broad stone structure approached by a great flight of steps, at the top of which was a sacrificial altar. A lesser stone building on one side were the cloister of the vestal virgins. On the other side was the Inca’s palace. From his knowledge of Inca history, Ferdinand was enabled to guess that such was the character of the buildings, and in this supposition they were later confirmed.
In all the square, however, and in those thoroughfares of the city which they could observe, was no sign of life and movement.
“It looks like a city of the dead,” said Jack. “If I didn’t know differently, I would believe we had stumbled upon an abandoned city. But the fortress certainly has occupants, as we have seen. What do you make of it, Dad?” he inquired, walking over toward his father.
Mr. Hampton shook his head, and Jack turned inquiringly to Don Ernesto. The latter looked thoughtful.
“There is a possibility,” he said, as one cudgeling his brains to recall something once known but long out of memory. “Yet—I don’t know—it seems foolish.”
“What?”
“That these descendants of the Incas should be keeping the great annual religious ceremony of their ancestors? Yet, it is the same time of year.”
“Oh, Father. The annual festival of the Sun?” cried Ferdinand.
Don Ernesto nodded.
“Tell us about it,” said Jack. “I’d like to learn all I can about these people.”
“Very well,” said Don Ernesto. “Sit down, and I’ll tell you what I can recall. The religion of the Peruvian Empire,” he continued, when all had found seats around him, “expressed the feelings of the people toward their heavenly protector and their earthly ruler. They worshipped the sun and adored the reigning Inca as his descendant upon earth. For the term of Inca, you will doubtless recall, did not apply to every member of the empire, but only to those of royal blood. The legend was that the sun looking down upon the savages took pity upon them for their mode of living, and sent to earth a son, Manco Capac, and a daughter, Mama Oello, children of his own, to civilize and instruct mankind. They came to earth near the Lake of Titicaca. He gave them a rod of gold and bade them go whither they pleased, but, to remember that when they came to a place where this rod should sink into the earth, that was the place at which he wished them to abide. The legend has it that the rod disappeared in the earth at Cusco. Therefore, there they stayed, bringing the savages together, instructing them, and building up the great city that afterwards became the capital of the empire.
“The worship of the sun was inevitable. Yet, you must remember, Sun-worship was not confined to Peru, but was universal. The Chaldeans, the Babylonians, the early Hindus—all worshipped the sun. Yet Sun-worship, with most races and tribes, in time passed either into some lower form of idolatry or became humanized and spiritualized. It was only amongst a few, the most remarkable of which were the Persians and the Peruvians, that the development of religion was arrested at a period when the sun was the visible, un-humanized Deity, not translated into manlike terms.
“The principal religious ceremony was the annual celebration of the Feast of Raymi, at Cusco. To that great city, where the palaces were all built of huge blocks of stone of a dark slate color, came every year from all quarters of the empire the principal nobles and military men, as well as the great men of each subject race. For the Incas, you know, did not blot out the subjugated, as did their Spanish conquerors, but absorbed all that was best of the conquered into the empire. Preceding that feast was a fast, emblematic of the suffering which precedes great joy. This fast lasted three days, and during that time, Fire, which was related to the Sun, and, therefore, divine, was not used by anyone.”
He paused, evidently having concluded his explanation, so Frank spoke up quickly.
“But, Senor, you say the use of fire was not permitted. If these descendants of the Incas keep their fast now, how is it our food has been cooked?”
“I cannot say,” smiled Don Ernesto. “Perhaps, though, it was some especial provision made for us prisoners.”
By now it was late afternoon. Already the sun had disappeared behind the western rampant of mountains, and twilight had come over the city below. Only the tops of the eastern mountains were tipped with fire.
The two older men drew apart, conversing in low tones. The Chilian huachos, Pedro and Carlos, already had disposed themselves upon a couch and were asleep. The four boys stood for a long time at the loopholes, gazing down at the dimming city, in which no sign of movement was to be observed, until it was too dark longer to see.
“Not a light in all that city,” said Frank the sensitive. “This is certainly an eerie experience.”
“I wonder what tomorrow will bring,” said Jack.
“Prince Huaca said he would call then,” added Bob.
“Well,” said Ferdinand, philosophically, “I suppose we might as well dispose ourselves for sleep. There is nothing else to do.”
“Here’s my flashlight,” said Bob, throwing its rays about. “Had it on me when I was captured. At least we can see our way to the couches.”
CHAPTER XIII—THE FEAST OF RAYMI
“Fellows, what’s that?”
Bob rolled over drowsily, then fell to the stone floor with a thump that effectually awakened him. He looked up. Jack stood above him, grinning. Bob rubbed his hip ruefully, then got to his feet. Frank, with whom he had been sleeping, also clambered out of bed.
Gray light coming in through the loopholes to the east lighted the room only dimly. Ferdinand and his father still slept on the couch which they had shared together. Mr. Hampton, who had slept with Jack, was not awake, nor were the two huachos.
“What in—-”
Bob was still rubbing his hip.
“Listen,” said Jack. “There. That dull humming sound. What is it? I lay awhile, half asleep, half waking, before I got up. Then I stopped to shake you fellows awake. Come on, let’s look out of these loopholes.”
“The Sun’s not yet up,” grumbled big Bob. “Why in the world do you have to beat him? Having such a good time of it, that you hate to miss a minute?”
Nevertheless, he followed Jack and Frank to the loopholes.
The humming sound referred to was louder. For several moments they stared through the apertures, unable to see anything in the dark square below. But the light grew momentarily stronger, as the sun neared the top of the eastern rampart of the valley. Then objects began to grow and took form in the lessening shadows.
“Whew,” exclaimed Bob, in an awed tone. “Did you ever——”
“And I said last night it looked like a city of the dead,” said Frank.
As for Jack, he deserted his loophole and, gaining his father’s side, shook him into wakefulness.
“Come here, Dad. What a sight.”
What a sight, indeed! The others were roused and summoned, too. For the great square was packed with humanity, rank upon rank of people, on their knees, facing the Temple and the east. At that moment, the sun shot above the horizon. And all that great multitude of people bowed forward, touching their hands to their lips, and then flinging their arms wide to the Sun.
The serried ranks were dressed in gorgeous costumes. Many wore wreaths upon their heads. Many wore ornaments of gold and silver that reflected back the light of the sun in myriad flashings. And on standards high above the multitude flapped great imperial banners, stirring lazily in the breeze that brought the dawn.
“Ah,” said Don Ernesto, breaking the silence of stupefaction which had enthralled them, “I was right. Now we shall see something. It is their great festival. The fast has come to an end.”
“Look,” said Jack excitedly, “Who is that?”
He pointed to a figure, upright amidst all those kneeling figures, the only dark spot, moreover, amidst those gaily-clad hosts. He wore a robe descending to his feet, so darkly crimson that it appeared to be black.
“That,” said Don Ernesto, “is the Inca.”
But Jack had run back to the table and picked up the field glasses which he had placed there on retiring the night before.
“No. The Inca?” he cried. “Why, it is—No, not Prince Huaca, but he looks so much like him. Yet he is older. And, wait. There is Prince Huaca near him. Look, Father, that man on the left.”
Meantime, a fascinating ceremony was transpiring in the square. From the hands of Vestal Virgins, clothed all in white, the Inca took two great golden goblets filled with wine. Lifting the one in his right hand to the sun, as if drinking a pledge, he set it to his lips. Then, solemnly, he poured the wine from the goblet into a wide-mouthed jar of gold.
“Why is he doing that, I wonder?” cried Frank. “Do you know, Don Ernesto?”
“I don’t know for certain. But I believe the wine is supposed to flow through a golden conduit into the Temple. Thus the Sun may drink the wine pledged to him.”
Next the Inca drank from the goblet in his left hand. Then turning to the nearest of the kneeling figures, those wearing capes of darkest crimson, of which there were eight, including Prince Huaca, he poured out the remainder of the wine into goblets which they held extended.
“They must be members of the royal family,” surmised Bob
“Yes,” agreed Don Ernesto. “The other nobles, and the common people will get a lesser wine, as well as the special bread made for this occasion. Ah, my reading all comes back to me now. But who would think to see that ancient ceremony of the Feast of Raymi reproduced today by the descendants of the Children of the Sun?”
As he had prophesied, so it came to pass. For now young women all in white could be seen making their way through the kneeling throng. But their mission was not yet to be carried out. They merely took their appointed stations. Then those of royal blood arose and moved in slow and stately procession behind the Inca toward the Temple. At the base of the steps they removed their sandals. They then entered the Temple.
“Probably to make offerings to their Deity,” said Don Ernesto.
The multitude continued kneeling, indicating that the ceremony was not yet over. Presently the Inca and the members of his family returned to the square. They came out of the Temple empty-handed.
“Those goblets from which they drank,” said Don Ernesto, who at the moment had the field glasses. “Those have been left behind. Those were their offerings.”
Following the Inca came a patriarchal man in a white robe bordered with crimson, upon his head a golden disk from which protruded a great number of golden spikes. This they took to be the High Priest. Following him were attendant priests bearing a large number of animals, including a black lamb. This was slaughtered first, and examined by the High Priest for the auguries. Then the other animals were sacrificed, certain parts being offered on the altar to the Sun, the balance distributed by the lesser priests among the multitude to be roasted at great fires which now were lighted in the square. At the same time, the women in white, the Vestal Virgins, who earlier had taken station in the throng, began distributing the special bread of the festival.
All this required a long time in the doing, but the boys and their elders watched with unabated interest, moving about a little now and then from one loophole to another to converse, shifting position occasionally to relieve the irksomeness. As for Pedro and Carlos, they had produced a deck of cards and, squatting on the stone floor, were playing a game between themselves, untouched by the romance of the spectacle in the square.
Presently, the feasting having come to an end, the Inca, the members of his family and other nobles in the multitude withdrew toward a side of the square which, from the loopholes, was not under observation. Then the throng broke up in scattered groups, here and there spaces were cleared, while the observers packed themselves around in dense formation and, in these cleared spaces, dancers appeared.
“Ah,” said Don Ernesto, “now the festival has begun. They will make merry for a long time. See, wine is being distributed to everybody.”
But at that moment, Pedro called to his master, and Don Ernesto turned about. So did Mr. Hampton and the boys.
The door had been opened to admit Prince Huaca. He stood within the room, while the door swung to again behind him, his face inscrutable. After a moment of hesitation, Don Ernesto advanced to meet him.
“We have been looking,” he began.
Prince Huaca bowed slightly.
“Yes?”
“At your great festival.”
Prince Huaca smiled.
“For the common people.”
“I do not understand.”
“Perhaps, some day——”
Prince Huaca made a slight gesture with his right hand, as if to dismiss the subject.
“Senor, sit here with me,” he said, indicating a couch. “I would talk with you. Let these others watch a little longer. Then my servants will bring you food, so that you, too, may feast.”
“I am honored,” said Don Ernesto. However, he hesitated to be seated.
“Pardon me,” he said, “if I point out that these”—indicating Mr. Hampton and the boys, who were at the far end of the room—“are my son and my very good friend and his young men. Perhaps, what you wish to say is for their ears, too?”
“Ah, I did not understand,” said Prince Huaca, courteously. “Then they are not your servants?”
“No, only these two,” answered Don Ernesto, indicating Pedro and Carlos, who had withdrawn from their vicinity. “And they are old family servants.”
Prince Huaca considered.
At that moment the great bronze door again was opened, and a number of servants entered, bowed low before Prince Huaca, removed the dishes from the table and then returned bearing other dishes, this time including meat. Throughout the process, Prince Huaca sat silent, nor did Ernesto venture to disturb him. When the servants at length had withdrawn, the prince arose.
“Eat,” said he, “and, when you have refreshed yourselves, my servants shall bring you and your friends to me. Assure your old servants they have nothing to fear in being separated from you.”
When he had gone, Don Ernesto lost no time in communicating the purport of the conversation to Mr. Hampton and the boys. Pedro and Carlos took the news philosophically. The food was excellent, the meat roasted and hot. All ate with good appetite. There were goblets of mild, honey-like wine, which Don Ernesto recommended highly. At the conclusion of the meal, the servants returned bearing ewers of water and rough towels, with which they bathed face and hands. Then, one of the servants gestured that Don Ernesto and his companions were to follow, and, bidding Pedro and Carlos have no worry, the party set out.