CHAPTER XXII—INTO THE INCA’S COURT
“Do?” cried Jack. “I’m for complying.”
“Jack, you are talking wildly,” rebuked his father, sternly. “It is death.”
“But, Dad, don’t you see? Now we need have no scruples about going armed.”
“I know, Jack,” said his father, gravely. “But don’t you realize that if we go now, we go as prisoners, and not under the protection of a flag of truce?”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” said Jack, and fell silent.
They looked at each other, but none spoke for the moment.
“Senor Hampton,” said Michac, resolutely, “I shall not comply with the Inca’s command, though it be for the first time in my life I have failed to do so, and have put myself in open defiance of our supreme authority. Let him declare my life forfeit and place a price upon my head in the hope of finding traitors among the fortress garrison to slay me. I care not. I am concerned solely for the life of my friend, Prince Huaca. I do not ask that you go voluntarily and endanger yourselves in the hope of saving him, but I do appeal to you to help me save him in some manner. You are wiser men than I, with many wonders and marvels at your command, and——”
“Think you, Senor Michac,” interrupted Don Ernesto, “that if we reply to the Inca that we come as delegates from a great lord beyond the mountains with many marvels at his command, and that we wish to have an audience with him, but not as prisoners, he will give us safe conduct?”
Michac’s worried expression lightened.
“And then——”
“Having obtained an audience,” said Don Ernesto, “we shall seek to so impress him with our power that he will be overawed and will either surrender Prince Huaca or promise that his life be spared.”
“It may be,” said Michac.
“Let us make the attempt, Senor Hampton,” appealed Don Ernesto. “We are eight in number, capable all of us, armed with modern automatics. I believe we can protect ourselves, and, perhaps, even effect a gallant deed in the rescue of Prince Huaca.”
“Remember, Dad,” said Jack, “that Pizarro, with a handful of warriors, overthrew a far mightier host than we will face. And in a less worthy cause, besides.”
Mr. Hampton looked at the three lads, at Jack and Bob and Frank. He thought of the responsibility devolving upon him of looking after their safety. Nevertheless, there was much truth in what the others urged. In the automatics, they had weapons the like of which were unknown to the Inca’s people. In the marvels at their command, they had something with which to dazzle the others and convince them of the white man’s greater power. Besides, there was Prince Huaca—a man who had endeared himself. Mr. Hampton rubbed his eyes. Was he living in the twentieth century? He, himself, matter of fact though he was, felt the influence of another age upon him. He could see the boys had entirely yielded to that influence and that Don Ernesto was slipping fast. He felt reckless. After all, as Don Ernesto had said, it would be a gallant deed to rescue Prince Huaca. And in the mood that was upon him, he felt as if the doing of a gallant deed was all that counted.
“Very well, let us send a message to the Inca as you propose, Don Ernesto.”
“Hurray, Dad.”
“That’s the stuff, Mr. Hampton.”
“Senor, it is fine to be a boy again, is it not so?” Don Ernesto clasped his hand.
Michac was elated. The message was given the Incarial messenger, and he was sent back to the palace. Then they sat down to await developments. But not for long, as the boys recalled at once that they had not yet succeeded in calling the monastery, and all adjourned to the battlements.
Almost at once Jack succeeded in obtaining a reply. And when Brother Gregorio’s voice sounded in the receivers, he gave a cry of joy.
“Senor Jack, is it you? Tell me. How have you fared?”
“It’s Brother Gregorio, fellows. Hurray,” cried Jack, turning to the circle about him.
“We’ve found it, Brother Gregorio,” he replied, interrupting the other’s eager flood of questions. “We are in the Enchanted City. And it is not in ruins, but inhabited. By the descendants of the Incas. Oh, a marvellous story. But I have little time now for conversation. Do you call Father Felipe at once, as Don Ernesto has much to tell him.”
Father Felipe, fortunately, was close at hand, and he and Don Ernesto soon were engaged in conversation. Rapidly and concisely, Don Ernesto related the sequence of their adventures, and what they now proposed to do. In conclusion, he asked Father Felipe to take minute note of the directions for finding the Enchanted City, and to communicate at once with his brother-in-law, the President of Chile. From Don Ernesto’s remarks, those listening could tell that Father Felipe was protesting vehemently at the carrying out of the proposed visit to the Inca, and urging them not to do so. But Don Ernesto did not weaken.
So long did the conversation continue, that before its conclusion a messenger appeared on the roof to inform Michac that the Inca’s messenger had returned and awaited him below. Michac disappeared. When he returned, Don Ernesto still was talking, and Michac addressed himself to Mr. Hampton.
“The Inca will receive you as delegates from the Lord Beyond the Mountains,” he said. “You are to appear at once for audience.”
“And does he give safe conduct?”
“So states the message, yet Senor——”
“What?” asked Mr. Hampton, noting his hesitation.
“I fear treachery from Cinto. Remember you were told by Prince Huaca that he and you were to appear for audience today—when apparently you would be safe—yet were then to be seized and slain. I repeat me, Senor, of urging you to make this visit. It is not yet too late to withdraw.”
Don Ernesto meantime had concluded his conversation with Father Felipe.
“Treachery or not, Senor Hampton,” he said firmly, “I believe we should make the attempt to save Prince Huaca. Honor demands it.”
“Yes,” said Mr. Hampton, firmly. “I too, have decided in favor of it. We shall keep our eyes open and be on our guard.”
“Dad,” interrupted Jack, “remember what I said about the ring radio? Well, I’ve got another idea. Let us give the Inca a present. That will be only natural. Now the box containing the tube transformers is a handsome piece of work, and will look impressive. Let us take it and the batteries and present it to him, string up an aerial and tell him the Lord Beyond the Mountains is so great he can speak and make his voice heard, although he isn’t present. Then we’ll get the Inca to put on the headphone and give him an earful from the battlement.”
“But who will speak from the battlement, Jack?”
“I’ve thought of that, too, Dad. Of course the Inca understands this archaic Spanish that the high nobles speak. One of us might stay behind and spring Spanish on him. But I’ve got a better plan. Wouldn’t it impress him to tell him that our Lord Beyond the Mountains is so powerful that he speaks all tongues, even that of the Incas—the most isolated people in the world?”
Mr. Hampton nodded. Frank interrupted eagerly.
“You mean——”
“Yes, sir, I mean Michac,” said Jack. “He isn’t going with us. He can stay here and act the part of the Lord Beyond the Mountains, and speak to the Inca. Besides, that will be all the better. For he knows all about conditions here and knows everybody by his first name. He can show such familiarity with the Inca’s affairs as to dumbfound the old boy. As for the generator, a couple of these husky soldiers can turn the handles and give him the juice. Now I know what you’re going to say, Dad. You’re going to object that Michac won’t know when the Inca puts on the receivers, aren’t you?”
Mr. Hampton nodded, smiling slightly, for Jack’s enthusiasm amused and warned him, and he could see his son had a plan already worked out.
“Suppose, too,” he said, “that the Inca refuses to don the headphones? What then?”
“If he doesn’t,” said Jack, “what’s to prevent us from bluffing this High Priest, Cinto, into putting them on? We can ask simply whether he is afraid. That ought to floor him. He won’t dare admit fear of another’s magic. For that matter, we can bluff the Inca into listening by the same method.
“Anyway,” Jack continued, “either of your objections can be met. We can say that the Lord from Beyond the Mountains speaks from the sky, and ask the Inca to come to that great platform before the Temple. Then we can put up our set there, and from the battlements here, Michac can see just who is listening on the ’phones, and when to speak.”
“Jack, I believe you’ve got it,” said his father, heartily. “Well, let’s go.”
“Look here,” said Bob, suddenly. “Michac can’t see from where this set is located. He can’t get sight of the square at all. But I’ve got an idea, too. Jack, you give him your field glasses, and explain them to him. Then he can station a trusty man in the embrasure there, with the glasses, and this man can make sure beyond possibility of a doubt, who is listening-in and when, and just call the information to Michac.”
The glasses were brought, a soldier instructed in their use, and two others put at the generator. Then Michac escorted the party to the fortress gate, and they set out across the square. Before resuming his station on the battlements, Michac assembled two strong parties under trusty petty officers, and stationed them at the main gate and at the sally port at the foot of the Acropolis, reached by a stairway hewn from the living rock. It was there the surprise attack had been delivered the night before.
“Keep close watch,” he commanded, “and if you see these strangers return in haste, pursued by the Palace Guard, dash forth to their rescue. They go to attempt the delivery of Prince Huaca.”
That last statement, he new, would steel their arms, for the common soldiers of the fortress adored Prince Huaca. Then he returned to the battlements to await developments.
By that time he could see the party, led by the Inca’s messenger, marching two abreast, in step, with Pedro and Carlos in the rear, bearing the radio outfit, reach the wide stone stairway sweeping up to the Incarial palace, which adjoined the Temple on the left. He was torn by conflicting emotions at the sight, hope that the marvels of the strangers would accomplish the impossible, fear for the possible effects of Cinto’s treachery.
Steadily they marched up the steps, received at the head of the flight by an armed guard in glittering armor, which closed about them. Fear overcame hope in Michac’s breast. Against those splendid armor-clad warriors, how could his newfound friends hope for success. His heart failed him. Had he been wise in permitting them to go? Were they not going to certain death, in spite of fair promises?
“Oh, Huaca, Huaca, my friend and leader,” he said to himself, in momentary despair, “I shall never see you alive again. My poor country!”
CHAPTER XXIII—THE OLD AND THE NEW
What a sensation that was, crossing the great square of Cusco Hurrin, facing the tremendous Temple of the Sun and the Inca’s Palace, in the bright sunlight, with not a soul in sight in all the great expanse. The boys again underwent that feeling to which they had been subject so often since arrival, namely, that they were dreaming. Could it be possible that here they were in the most secret and unknown city on earth, that the unparalleled experience which had come to Pizarro centuries before, of discovering the Inca civilization, was now coming to them?
They marched in step, shoulders squared, heads erect, looking very military in their camping outfits and campaign hats. By each man’s side swung his automatic in a holster, ready for instant use.
“If they do not know the purpose of these weapons,” said Mr. Hampton, as they set out, “it is not likely they will attempt to take them from us. But, should they do so, we must not permit it. In that case, let each man draw his automatic and await my instructions.”
“What would you do, Dad?”
“Demonstrate my ability as a shot,” said his father, grimly. “I would bring down something or other, to convince them it were best not to trifle with us. My hope, however, is that we shall not be asked to give up our weapons.”
Steadily the march continued, and now, as they drew nearer to the Inca’s Palace and could see the individual figures of the armor-clad guard drawn up on the terrace at the head of the great stairway, Jack turned for a last look at the Acropolis. As he did so, he gave an exclamation, and halted, staring. The others turned at his words, and then also halted in their tracks and stared.
For the first time since arrival they obtained a clear view of the mountain peak behind the Acropolis. Through a flank of this lofty height was cut the Tunnel Way by which they had gained the fortress. During their only appearance on the battlements by day, only a very short time previously, they had been too occupied in calling the monastery by radio to look up at the towering peak beyond.
“Look at it smoke.”
It was Bob’s voice, breaking the silence.
At once the others gave tongue, too, and the air was filled with their exclamations.
For out of the truncated top of the mountain was pouring a thick black smoke, not of any great density, in reality, as yet, but still pronounced.
“Is that a signal fire, or something like that, by any chance, Dad?” asked Jack.
Mr. Hampton shook his head. His face was grave.
“That’s a volcano,” he said. “You know some of the most active volcanoes in the world are located in the Andes. And the whole Andine region is subject to earthquakes. The tremors are felt far out at sea, and when a great earthquake occurs, it is usually accompanied by a tidal wave that wreaks destruction along the Chilian and Peruvian coast. Valparaiso practically was wiped out by a tidal wave not so many years ago.”
“Does that look as if it would erupt soon, Mr. Hampton?” Frank anxiously inquired.
Mr. Hampton shook his head, doubtfully.
“I don’t know. But I do not believe so,” he said. “What do you think, Don Ernesto?”
The Chilian shrugged.
“Who can tell,” he said. “It feels like earthquake weather, a little, hot and muggy. But, come, we delay. Let us proceed.”
Once more the party moved forward. Now they were at the bottom of the great flight of stone stairs leading up to the Inca’s Palace. Now they were halfway up. Now they were at the top. And two lines of splendid warriors formed an aisle through which they must pass to enter the great doorway.
“Great guns,” muttered Bob in a low voice, “I didn’t realize—I didn’t suspect——”
“Ssh,” whispered Frank, who was his partner.
Nevertheless, he, too, was awed by the sight.
So were they all.
For the members of the Palace Guard were in golden armor. Breastplate, helmet, greaves, were all gold or gold-plated.
Stunned, almost, though they were, however, none of the party seemed to take any notice of the warriors, but kept their eyes to the front as they halted at a gesture from the herald who had brought them from the Acropolis. Then down between the aisle of golden warriors, each standing tall and straight and motionless, golden-tipped spear by his side, short sword with hilt of gold at his belt, came a young man to receive them. He, too, was clad in gold, but not in armor, except for the fine shirt of mail, all of golden links. Below this appeared the short tunic with the deep crimson border denoting a man of Incarial rank. By his side was also a short sword but with a hilt that was not only gold but also gem-encrusted. His head was bare, his hair long and straight, and raven black. His face was thin and cruel. The soldiers saluted as he passed by, raising their spears before them, and ringing the butts on the stone flagging of the terrace. They rightly surmised he was the Captain of the Palace Guards, Guascar, the High Priest’s nephew.
Bowing low before Don Ernesto and Mr. Hampton, who led their little column, he halted some six paces before them, and in halting, archaic Spanish said:
“Ambassadors from the Lord Beyond the Mountains, I am instructed to lead you to the August Presence.”
“If you refer to the Inca of Cusco Hurrin,” said Don Ernesto, “it is he whom we have traveled thus far to see.”
“What mean these strange objects borne by your men?” said Captain Guascar, sharply, pointing to the radio outfit carried by Pedro and Carlos.
“This,” said Don Ernesto, “is a gift from the Lord Beyond the Mountains to the Inca of Cusco Hurrin.”
“Come, then,” said Captain Guascar, turning on his heel.
All breathed easier. He had made no reference to their automatics. The first difficulty had been no difficulty at all. Guascar retraced his steps, the soldiers once more saluted, and the “ambassadors” marched up the aisle. Pedro and Carlos, who carried the main part of the radio outfit, and Jack and Ferdinand who assisted them, had their hands full. But the others unostentatiously kept their hands near their automatics, ready for action should treachery be displayed. The warriors, however, stood as if cast in bronze, and the passage of the aisle between their ranks was made without incident. As soon, however, as the “ambassadors” had entered the doorway, the guard closed in and fell in behind them.
Inside the doorway was a great, bare, stone reception hall. Captain Guascar led the way across this to another doorway covered by hanging cloth of gold. Unseen hands pulled this back on either side and the officer entered, beckoning them to follow. Soon he crossed the threshold, he fell on his knees, his face bowed.
Doubtless, the others, according to Court etiquette, should have done likewise. However, they had earlier talked this matter over among themselves, and it had been decided that they should carry themselves in proud fashion. They remained erect, therefore, awaiting developments.
The scene before them was one to take away a man’s breath. Foursquare and vast was the throne room, with the lofty stone ceiling supported by carven pillars. On each of these gleamed a circle of lights like golden censors hanging by chains, for, although it was broad day outdoors, it was perpetual gloom within.
The floor was a mosaic of blue and red blocks of stone. And at the far end, opposite the doorway where they stood, was the throne. It was a great, high chair of gold, and on it was seated a man of great age whom they recognized for the Inca, as they had seen him at the ceremonies of the Festival of Raymi, the first morning of their captivity.
From the door to the throne, between two rows of pillars, stretched a carpet of the Incarial crimson. Before the throne, which was raised upon a dais, stood a rank of the golden-armored Palace Guards. At the Inca’s shoulder was the High Priest Cinto. Below the Inca, on an intermediate dais, stood a group of eight or nine in tunics, bearing the crimson border of Incarial rank. These were the members of the Cabinet or Council, with whom Don Ernesto and Mr. Hampton had had audience the day before.
The Inca lifted a hand slightly, and the gesture was understood.
“Advance, O Ambassadors, from the Lord Beyond the Mountains,” rolled out the voice of a herald who stood before the soldiers guarding the throne. “The Inca of Cusco Hurrin will receive you.”
“Steady, boys,” cautioned Mr. Hampton, in a whisper over his shoulder, in English, so as not to be understood by Captain Guascar.
Then they started forward down the carpet.
At the foot of the throne the party halted. To either side of them stood the ranks of the Palace Guard. Behind these were groups of courtiers. Before them and to the right stood the nobles of the Council. Above them towered the Inca on his golden throne, and now they could see that the gleaming background thereof was a representation of the sun with a halo of projecting golden spikes. On the Inca’s head was a crown also radiating golden spikes. They were aware, too, that the Palace Guard which had met them at the head of the outside stairway had closed in behind.
Upon their wits depended their safety. They were completely hemmed in. All realized the situation acutely, none more so than Mr. Hampton and Don Ernesto. These two looked fleetingly at each other, and each read in the other’s eyes a growing anxiety as to whether their rash venture after all had been advisable. But each read, too, an indomitable courage, and knew he could count upon his comrade. Don Ernesto gave an almost imperceptible nod, indicating Mr. Hampton should proceed, as it had been agreed beforehand the American should act as spokesman. For one thing, he wore a Vandyke beard, which in itself was a badge of distinction, as all within Cusco Hurrin, like most Indians, were smooth-faced.
Stepping slightly in advance of his party, therefore, Mr. Hampton bowed low before the Inca, and then began. He spoke in Spanish, and slowly, so that he might be understood. Representing that they came as ambassadors from the “Lord Beyond the Mountains,” he spoke briefly of the might of that ruler. Then he told of the legend which for centuries had persisted, of the existence of Cusco Hurrin, and how he and his companions had come at length in search of the city. That they came in peace, he added, was attested by the fact that they came without armed followers. Having proceeded thus far, he next changed his tone to one of sternness, and referred to Prince Huaca. A general stir and rustle in the audience apprised him that not only the members of the Council but others also could gather the import of his words. Over the sharp, hawklike features of the High Priest Cinto passed an expression of anger, and he made an involuntary step forward. But Mr. Hampton’s voice rang boldly forth.
CHAPTER XXIV—THE MIRACLE WORKER
“We found Prince Huaca, the heir to the throne,” he said, “an enlightened and intelligent man, filled with enthusiasm for the betterment of his people and very desirous of learning of the many wonders and marvels in our country.
“But”—and pausing deliberately and significantly, Mr. Hampton stared directly at the High Priest Cinto—“but,” he added, “he told us evil counsellors surrounded the throne. He was captured and imprisoned. And now, O Inca, we ask that the evil men be punished and Prince Huaca be restored to the favor of your countenance.”
It was too much for the High Priest. His face became convulsed with rage. He made a step forward. But the Inca, whose eyes though old were shrewd, and who showed none of the senility of age, lifted his hand. The gesture was sufficient.
“O Ambassador of the Lord Beyond the Mountains,” said he, in a thin, clear voice, “you speak with a fearless tongue. But, tell me, by what right do you thus seek to interfere in the affairs of Cusco Hurrin? Why should I not command my soldiers to seize you at once?”
“O Inca,” answered Mr. Hampton, stoutly, betraying no sign of trepidation, “we have your safe conduct. Moreover, if any evil befall us, the Lord Beyond the Mountains will know of it instantly and will send his lightnings through the air for our protection.”
“What mean you?” asked the Inca, staring at him keenly. “This talk of knowing instantly is folly. Is not Cusco Hurrin a sealed city whence no messengers may depart? And are we not separated from this Lord of whom you speak by many leagues of wild land? And what means this talk of lightnings? Is the Inca of Cusco Hurrin a child to be frightened by foolish tales?”
“Nay, Sire,” said Mr. Hampton, imperturbably, bowing, “this is no foolish talk. Great is the power of the Lord Beyond the Mountains, and such power also dwells in us his ambassadors.”
“This talk of power does not please me,” said the Inca, harshly. “Again I ask, what mean you?”
“Would you have evidence of our power, O Inca,” said Mr. Hampton, “then behold. For I have brought with me certain marvels with which to convince you. Shall I proceed, or is the Court of the Inca of Cusco Hurrin timid as a child and unwilling to look upon these marvels?”
“Nay, nay, stranger, we are not fearful. For our power, too, is great,” said the Inca. “Behold, here is my High Priest, who communes with our Lord, the Sun, and knows many secrets.”
On being thus indicated, Cinto assumed an expression of satisfaction.
“Ah,” said Mr. Hampton, composedly. “But can he order a man to pluck out his eye, to take his teeth from his mouth, or to remove the hair from his head, and be obeyed without injuring that man? Can he do this, and then restore that man to his original appearance?”
There was a renewed stir of interest among the members of the Council, a renewed rustling in the audience. Cinto looked supercilious and haughty, but Mr. Hampton thought he detected a gleam of worry. As for the Inca, he leaned forward a bit and stared more sharply than before.
“Nay,” said he, “and be cautious, O Ambassador, lest your tongue lead you into idle boasting. For these matters of which you speak are for the God Himself alone to perform.”
“O Inca, I do not boast,” said Mr. Hampton. “If you would behold, then observe closely.”
It was their cue. Pedro and Carlos advanced to take station beside Don Ernesto. Mr. Hampton faced them, arms extended.
“Behold, O Inca,” said he. “I speak, too, in the tongue of the Lord Beyond the Mountains—a tongue of power.”
And rapidly he began, in English:
“Hocus pocus, abracadabra, Pedro, give me your eye.”
Pedro passed his hand over his glass eye, plucked it out, and then, good actor that he was, and thoroughly enjoying the situation, he turned so that the sightless cavity stared at the Inca and held up the eye between thumb and forefinger.
A gasp of amazement and horror came from the audience. The boys who were watching the proceedings with keenest enjoyment had difficulty in restraining their laughter.
“Look at the High Priest. He’s going to faint.”
“Yes, and the Inca is paralyzed.”
Not pausing, Mr. Hampton next cried his incantations over Carlos, and the latter opened his mouth wide and brought forth his false teeth. He held them up, so that all could see. And, indeed, they were a gruesome sight, with the red rubber palate resembling the roof of the mouth. He, too, profiting from Pedro’s example, stared toward the throne, lips wide apart, toothless gums displayed.
If before had been horror and amazement, now was stupefaction. Whimpers of panic ran around the audience. The soldiers before the throne trembled, so that their erect spears waved like saplings in a strong wind. The Inca, the High Priest, the members of the Council, all were endeavoring to restrain their fright, but they were palsied with terror.
“Good night,” murmured Jack, suffocatingly. “He’s got them. Oh, I’m going to blow up if I can’t laugh soon.”
Mr. Hampton also realized he had his audience in his grip, and he proceeded to strike while the iron was hot.
Extending a knife to Don Ernesto, he gestured with his hand to indicate the latter was to scalp himself. Don Ernesto complied. And a thorough job he did of it. Then he lifted off his toupee and held it, poised above his head. The lights from the pillar behind him gleamed on his shining bald head.
It was too much for Inca nerves. The courtiers in the audience cried out whimperingly like frightened children and there was a great scurrying to get behind pillars. The soldiers before the throne, as if with one accord, threw themselves prone before this worker of wonders. There was a rush of feet away from their party in the rear, and the boys, turning, saw some of the soldiers of the rear guard, forgetful of discipline, forgetful of everything, stricken by blind fear, dashing madly for the doorway.
“You’ve got them, Dad,” cried Jack. “Look at the Inca. Look at the High Priest.”
The High Priest had fallen back a step or two, and assumed a crouching position. His attitude betokened not only fear, but desperation and hatred. Plain as if he had spoken the words, could be read in his expression the fear that here was a greater magician than he, the ruin of his hopes. As for the Inca, he had attempted to rise from his throne, but had fallen back and now cowered in the great chair, his hands over his eyes.
Mr. Hampton’s voice rang out.
“Behold, O Inca,” he cried, “your people flee before these wonders. But there are greater wonders to come. Bid them stay.”
His voice had the effect of arresting the panic. The Inca withdrew his hands, and by a tremendous effort pulled himself together. In a shaky voice, he said:
“Continue.”
“You will observe,” said Mr. Hampton, “that though one of these men has plucked out his eye, another his teeth, and a third has removed his hair, yet none have suffered pain nor bled. This itself is a great marvel, and by order of the beneficent Lord Beyond the Mountains, who protects his children from all harm. Now I shall restore them to their original appearance.”
He clapped his hands three times, and at this, the previously agreed-upon signal, Pedro replaced his eye, Carlos his teeth, and Don Ernesto his toupee.
An audible shudder ran through the audience, most of whom, fascinated by the promise of more wonders, had halted in their flight and returned. The soldiers of the rear guard also had slunk back into place.
“Captain Guascar is going to overlook their having started to flee,” whispered Bob to Frank. “He’s not paying any attention to them.”
“No wonder,” whispered Frank, in reply. “He almost died of fright himself, and he’s not over it yet, either.”
In truth, the doughty captain had a staring, hysterical look in his eyes, as if he had seen some frightful apparition, and his limbs still trembled.
“These, O Inca,” said Mr. Hampton, “are simple matters. It surprises me that your people should be surprised, for in my country any child can perform them. Indeed, any of my young men”—waving toward the boys—“can perform them as easily as I. Aye, if you so desire, I shall ask one of them to do so. And, if it be your wish”—he added, daringly—“I shall ask one of my young men to demonstrate upon one of your subjects. Shall we tell this lad”—laying his hand on Jack’s shoulder—“to pluck forth the High Priest’s eye?”
“Hey, Dad, you’re taking a long chance,” whispered Jack, anxiously.
He need not have worried.
With a howl, Cinto leaped to the Inca’s side, hands outspread.
“O August One,” he cried, “Representative of the Sun God, protect me from these evil spirits who be not men but demons.”
“Nay,” said Mr. Hampton, “if the High Priest fears——” And he pushed Jack back into column. He had produced the effect he desired. He had unmasked the High Priest’s fear, and publicly humiliated him. It would be better not to press the matter. They were skating on thin ice. What if the Inca should point to some man in disfavor and ask that they blind him, render him toothless or scalp him?
He hurried on to another matter. Holding up his hand, index finger extended, he said:
“O Inca, a greater marvel have I. Above me I can hear the voice of the Lord Beyond the Mountains. He wishes to speak to you. This great Lord speaks every tongue known to man; aye, even the Inca speech he knows, even though for hundreds of years none have spoken it in the world Beyond the Mountains. And this voice which I now hear, but which is inaudible to you within this hall, commands that I invite you to appear upon the terrace before your palace, where——”
Mr. Hampton paused. He had been wracking his brain for a good reason to assign for urging the Inca to appear on the terrace in order to hear the radio. Now, as by inspiration, it came to him. “——Where,” he added, “you will be under the protection of the Sun God and need fear no dark magic. This Lord Beyond the Mountains would speak to you now, within this hall, except that he desires you to feel secure.
“He will speak to you in your own tongue,” he added. “And this,” he added, pointing to the radio outfit, “is the medium of his voice.”
He turned to his own party.
“Come on, quick. Take up the outfit and let us march out. If we waver, there may be trouble. If we put on a bold front, I think the Inca will follow.”
CHAPTER XXV—A VOICE WARNS THE INCA
That rear guard fell back before them, scrambling hastily to the sides that they might pass. Bob, Frank and Ferdinand felt sore from restrained laughter, and this new evidence of the panic they had created amused them and made restraint even more difficult.
Jack, however, had fallen back beside Mr. Hampton and Don Ernesto, and was bringing up the rear. His sharp eyes had discerned something which caused him grave concern, and he spoke of it in a quick whisper.
“Cinto has disappeared,” said he. “I have a hunch it means no good.”
“Ah,” said Don Ernesto, shrugging, “these soldiers, they are frightened of us. The Golden Palace Guard is trembling in its armor. We have nothing to fear.”
“That’s just it,” said Jack. “Maybe Cinto realizes he cannot trust to these soldiers to attack us, and so he has gone to get others who have not fallen under our spell.”
“We’ll keep our eyes open, Jack,” said his father. “That’s a hunch worth attention.”
“By golly, Dad, the Inca is following us all right. They’re bringing up a litter for him. Four bearers are carrying it.”
“We won’t look back, Don Ernesto,” said Mr. Hampton. “It would injure our dignity to do so. Don’t stare, Jack. Thank heaven, the old boy is coming. That means not only that we have got him on the run, but also that Cinto won’t attempt any demonstration against us while the Inca is present, in all likelihood.”
The terrace was reached, and Jack and Frank at once began setting up the aerial. They had brought along a second umbrella aerial similar to that set up on the battlement of the Acropolis, which had been included in the outfit, and this they proceeded to set up. Then the three, Jack, Bob and Frank, connected up batteries, tube transformer and headphone. Meanwhile Mr. Hampton was staring covertly at the battlement of the Acropolis, towering high on the distant side of the square opposite. Would Michac fail them? Or would he carry out his part in the plot successfully? Mr. Hampton was thankful to think that, even if Michac should fail them, they were out in the open where they stood a better chance for their lives in a fight, and, also, that they had already roused a wholesome respect for their power in the breasts of their enemies.
The boys worked with lightning swiftness. They were grateful for the delay in the arrival of the Inca, whose movements were attended by so many ceremonies that it was a considerable time before he had reached the terrace and was ensconced in a great chair brought out for him by other bearers.
“Put on the headphone, Jack, and try it. See whether our friend Michac is at his post,” whispered Mr. Hampton, when the last connections were completed.
Jack complied, adjusting the tuner to the meter wave length at which he had set Michac’s instrument. A smile broke over his face, and he nodded to his father.
“Senor Jack, I am ready. My man at the parapet tells me you are at the ’phone. Thanks be to the gods, that you are safe out of that trap. I have been in agony, lest you be overcome and go to your death. I saw the soldiers move into the palace behind you. Now, if you let me speak to the Inca, I shall do my part.”
“Good man,” whispered Mr. Hampton, when Jack repeated the conversation. “I’m beginning now really to hope for success. If he scares the Inca badly enough, we may hope for Prince Huaca’s relief.”
Approaching the Inca, Mr. Hampton bowed. Then he gestured toward the radio instrument, the installation of which had been watched with absorbing and breathless interest by soldiers, courtiers and counsellors.
“The Lord Beyond the Mountains would speak to you in your own tongue, O Inca,” said he. “Will you deign to approach so as to put to your ears this instrument even as the young man has done.”
He indicated Jack, who at his father’s direction, continued to wear the headphone and smiled invitingly. This, Mr. Hampton had felt, would help to assure the Inca no evil would come to him from acceptance of the invitation.
“I assure you no evil will come to you thereby,” Mr. Hampton added.
The Inca regarded him with impassive face. His shrewd eyes sought to read the countenance of this strange magician and to detect whether he spoke in good faith or was attempting deception. He decided Mr. Hampton was honest. Moreover, it would not do for him to show fear.
“Ambassador from the Lord Beyond the Mountains,” said he. “I will listen to your master’s voice, if, indeed, he can speak to me across the forests and the mountains, and in my own tongue. But woe betide you if this be false.”
Signing to the bearers, he was lifted, chair and all, and set down where Jack indicated. Then Mr. Hampton took the headphone, while a noble, at the Inca’s command, stepped forth and, after prostrating himself, removed his crown. Thereupon Mr. Hampton placed the headphone upon the Inca’s head.
Stepping back quickly, he raised his hands aloft and looked to the heavens, as if indicating to some unseen spirit overhead that the time to speak had come. In reality, this was a signal to Michac’s spy at the parapet of the Acropolis battlement to pass word to Michac to speak.
The next moment, Michac’s voice, sonorous and deep, was heard in the receivers.
“Great guns,” whispered Frank, in English, “what a wonderful radio speaker he is. Why, you can hear him plainly.”
“Wish I could understand what he’s saying,” said Jack, excitedly. “Look at these counsellors and courtiers, will you? They get him, and, boy, they’re scared stiff.”
It was true. Michac had one of those rare voices with a bell-like quality that carries beautifully by radio. And he was obeying to the letter Jack’s hasty instructions as to where to place his mouth near the transmitter so as to get the best effect. He spoke in the Inca tongue, and, of course, the boys could not understand what he said. Nevertheless, that it was having a powerful effect, not only on the courtiers and nobles surrounding the Inca, but on the Inca himself, was apparent.
What Michac was saying, the boys knew in general, for he had been instructed to demand the release of Prince Huaca under threat of dire catastrophes to be visited upon Cusco Hurrin otherwise. But Michac had said that he would make his commands intimate, employing his knowledge of the Inca and the affairs of Cusco Hurrin. And, quite evidently, he was doing so.
The Inca’s face became white, his eyelids fluttered, and then his head fell forward.
“Great guns,” cried Bob, “he’s fainted. The shock was too much for him.”
Jack sprang forward and snatched the headphones from the Inca’s head. The audience gasped, and then its fear of these strangers, created by their marvels piled upon marvels, gave way before the deep-seated instinct of reverence for their ruler, the personal representative of their god. Hoarse cries of rage arose, and courtiers, nobles and soldiers, all jumbled together, began to surge forward toward them.
Affairs looked bad, indeed.
At that moment a shot sounded from the direction of the Temple of the Sun. Another followed. All spun about. Down the broad steps of the Temple came flying a familiar figure. It was Prince Huaca. Behind him was Cinto, followed by a detachment of the Palace Guard. The soldiers were armed only with sword and lance. Whence, then, came the shots?
That was apparent the next instant. For, pausing in his flight, as with one great bound he reached the bottom of the steps, Prince Huaca faced about, leveled his arm, and fired.
“The automatic,” cried Mr. Hampton. “I forgot I had given him one.”
Cinto stumbled and fell in a crumpled heap on the steps.
CHAPTER XXVI—THE MOUNTAIN SPEAKS
“Come on, Dad,” cried Jack. “Come on, fellows. Let’s join him. We’re in a bad hole here.”
So astounded was the crowd about them by this new development, that, for the moment, it had forgotten the fainting of the Inca, forgotten the strangers. It was their chance. Whipping out their automatics, the eight, close together, burst through the fringe about them on the edge of the terrace and darted down the steps.
“Run, Prince,” cried Mr. Hampton, in Spanish. “Run for the fortress. We are your friends. We follow.”
Prince Huaca heard, glanced their way, and then stood stock-still in amazement. He had known nothing of their presence. But sufficient that they were at hand and were coming to his rescue. A smile of joy broke forth on his face. Instead of starting directly across the square, he dashed along the face of the steps of the Temple toward them.
Tumultuous cries broke out behind them now, and Bob and Jack, who brought up the rear, facing about, saw the mob of courtiers and soldiers, intermingled, start down the steps after them. One man was ahead of the others. He was Captain Guascar. Sword uplifted, unhindered by heavy armor as were his warriors, he came bounding down, three steps at a time.
“I don’t like his looks, anyway,” Bob cried to Jack. “Here’s where I spoil ’em.”
And, turning suddenly, the big fellow leaped back up the steps, dashed in under Guascar’s up-raised sword, seized him about the waist, and with one mighty heave tossed his body into the face of the oncoming horde.
The flying form crashed into an armor-clad soldier and the two fell to the steps, bringing down still others who stumbled over them, unable to turn aside. In a trice the mass piled up.
“Run Bob, run,” cried Jack, who had paused and turned back a step or two, revolver raised, to help his comrade with a shot, if necessary.
Big Bob grinned, leaped back to Jack’s side, and the two raced down the steps.
This temporary diversion created by Bob’s unexpected attack had given the others a good start. Their figures were out on the great square, darting for the distant fortress. Prince Huaca had joined them. The fall of the High Priest Cinto, shot down so unexpectedly by the prince, likewise had delayed pursuit from the Temple, as the soldiers had paused uncertainly, mystified as to this new form of death wielded by the prince.
Mr. Hampton at first had not noticed the absence of his son and Bob, being interested in speeding on the others and in sweeping the prince into their party. But as they started across the square, he looked back to assure himself the boys were following. He was just in time to see Bob’s mighty heave, and the ruin which it wrought.
“Go on,” he cried to the others. “We’ll follow.”
And he waited for the approach of the two lads.
When they came up, he started running swiftly with them.
“Great stuff, Bob,” he cried. “I saw it. You certainly piled them up.”
To gain the fortress seemed a simple matter, for pursuit was so far behind that it could not catch up with them, and the reunited party was congratulating itself on a safe return when, as they drew near the foot of the Acropolis, shots began to fly overhead and they saw a party of soldiers, armed with the ancient rifles, cutting obliquely from the mouth of a street on the left side of the square to intercept them.
“We’ll have to fight for it, after all,” panted Don Ernesto, upon whom the pace was beginning to tell.
But a cheer went up from Frank:
“Michac to the rescue. Hurray.”
Out of the little sally port at the foot of the rock, reached by the stairway hewn from the living rock, came the band posted there by Michac upon their departure for just such an emergency. In the face of the fire of this troop, the band of pursuers fell back.
A moment or two later, Prince Huaca was recognized by his soldiers with cries of joy. Casting the restraints of discipline aside, they seized him, raised him aloft in their arms with cries of “Huaca, Huaca.” Some even wept while pressing their lips to his feet.
Then, alarmed by the near approach of the main body of pursuers, they put him down and all joined in a final dash for the sally port. It was gained without casualties, although several shots whistled about them, indicating the nobles had been re-enforced by some of the foot soldiers armed with guns. The great gate clanged to behind them, and the pursuers fell back, baffled.
They were safe. Safe, after incredible adventures.
“Whew,” said Bob, sitting down on the cool stone steps. “That was a hot one while it lasted.”
Michac came running down the steps to meet them. He and Prince Huaca embraced. Then the prince led the way up through the tunneled stairway, lighted by torches taken from the guard room at the gate, to the fortress above.
Another moving scene was enacted in the main guard room, where the soldiers, laughing or weeping, according to their various temperaments, gathered about their leader. The prince was as much moved at this demonstration of esteem. At length, he broke away from them and, asking Michac and the others to accompany him, led the way to his apartment.
There, while servants brought them refreshments of wine and cooling drinks made from fruit juices, the various threads of their intertwined adventures were straightened out.
“First of all,” said he to Michac, “how came you here, my friend?”
When Michac explained, Prince Huaca embraced him.
“The fortress would have fallen but for you,” he said. “And these good friends here and I would have been slain.”
Michac flushed and turned the subject to that of the exploits of the others, whom he heartily praised. When he told of how they had ventured forth to the Inca’s court and put themselves in the power of Cinto and the Palace Guard, in order to endeavor to obtain Prince Huaca’s release, the latter was much affected.
Mr. Hampton in his turn related what had occurred at their audience. And when he spoke of the impression created by the false eye, false teeth and false hair, nothing would do but that the whole performance be restaged for Prince Huaca. The key had been supplied him and, of course, he was not frightened. At Jack’s explanation, added to by the others, of the consternation which this exhibition had caused, he laughed heartily.
“Indeed, I can well believe it,” he said. Then he sobered: “Ah, but how wonderful that men should be able to do these things. I myself had an aching tooth for long. Certainly, these blessings must come to Cusco Hurrin.”
He, in turn, related his own adventures. Surprised the previous night while he slept, he had been bound and gagged and carried out of the fortress by the sally port, the officer of which had turned traitor. For the occasion, this officer had reduced the guard to a half dozen men and had sent these into the guard room on some pretext. That he intended to admit the enemy as soon as Prince Huaca’s capture was assured, the prince was convinced. Why, he asked, had plans miscarried? Why had the enemy not entered?
“The soldiers became suspicious,” answered Michac. “When you were carried out, bound, although they did not at first know it was you, they leaped for the gate and managed to close it in the face of the enemy. Then the treacherous officer was overcome, and the guard room roused in time to prevent other traitorous officers from throwing open the main gate.”
“These men——”
The prince half rose from his chair, his face dark.
“They have been attended to,” said Michac, simply, but significantly.
“And then what, Prince Huaca?” asked Mr. Hampton. “What did they do with you?”
“My life, though once attempted by an assassin,” said Prince Huaca, “was spared. Why, I know not.”
“The man I captured wasn’t an assassin, Prince Huaca,” said Bob. “At least Senor Michac so stated. But he can tell you.”
Michac nodded, and briefly related what had since been learned or suspected, that the man was one of the band to spirit Prince Huaca away.
“At any rate,” continued the prince, “I was imprisoned in Cinto’s chambers in the Temple, and considered that, perhaps, I was to be made a sacrifice to the Sun God. You know, Senor Hampton, that Michac and I and numbers of others in Cusco Hurrin are not idolators, but worship the true God as revealed in the teachings of the Spanish Fathers who came centuries ago with de Arguello. It is one of my grievances that the Inca permits himself to be dominated by this Cinto, who continues the old idolatrous religion because of the hold it gives him upon the people.
“There, to continue, I was held close prisoner under guard, although my bonds were removed. Yet the little weapon you gave me”—and he drew out the automatic—“was not taken from me. I but awaited my chance. ‘If I must die,’ I said to myself, ‘I shall attempt to take Cinto and Guascar with me and thus rid my land of their curse.’
“Today, only a little while ago, Cinto came to my room. And he was greatly enraged and frightened, too. Why, I did not know. For I did not know of your presence. He had not spoken of it. He ordered the guards to take me from the Temple precincts, and I knew he meant to have me slain but feared to stain the Temple with my blood, lest the people turn against him. I resolved to use my weapon to escape, if possible, but, if that could not be done, at least to slay Cinto too.
“They took me to the portico of the Temple, and then I shot down my two guards, broke away, and, as I ran, turned and shot Cinto. You know the rest.”
As he ceased speaking, there was a rumble as of distant thunder, and the floor beneath them swayed slightly but perceptibly.