“Don’t give up hope,” Mr. Livingston encouraged the little band. “The captain may outsmart himself. I thought of a scheme, but we can’t know until tomorrow whether or not it will work.”
Near exhaustion, the Scout leader closed his eyes and slept. Toward morning he was aroused by his companions, who whispered that the hour of dawn was upon the mountain.
“Willie will stay here with you,” Jack told him. “The rest of us are going to sneak down to the plaza to see what happens.”
Mr. Livingston aroused himself. “I’m stronger,” he insisted, stretching his cramped legs. “My fever is down again. We’ll all go together.”
The others could not dissuade him. Aided by Jack and Ken, the Scout leader made it through the tunnel. Still shielded by semi-darkness, the group found a hiding place not far from the scene of activity.
“This is going to be like watching a spectacle movie!” War remarked, thrilled by the sight.
In the plaza, hundreds of chanting natives knelt before the temple, their heads bowed. As a prelude to the ceremonial test between Captain Carter and the Inca ruler, replicas of the Sun and Moon were paraded on the temple steps. An impressive silence fell upon the throng.
“This is it,” Jack whispered to his crouching companions. “Here comes Panomuna!”
A procession of priests wound its way to the broken stone steps. Moving with great dignity, the Inca ruler took his place in front of the great crowd. He wore a flame colored robe and held aloft a magnificent golden bowl.
As the first rays of the sun came over the mountain peak. Panomuna turned to face the horizon. Raising his hand, he chanted: