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.