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.”