“But the great treasure was in the lake,” he wrote in his letters.
“There was no stint of gold, jewelry, emeralds, food, and other things sacrificed here when a native was in trouble. With prescribed ceremonies, two ropes were taken and attached to the rafts which were drawn 98 to that portion of the lake where the altar was supposed to be, below the surface. Two zipas, or priests, would accompany the person wishing to make the sacrifice on rafts which were composed of bundles of dried sticks or flotsam, tied one to another, or made from planks in the form of a punt holding three or more persons. By this means they would reach the altar and, using certain words and ceremonies, throw in their offerings, small or large, according to their means. In further reference to this lake, it was the principal and general place of worship for all this part of the country, and there are those still alive who state that they witnessed the burial of many caciques who left orders that their bodies and all their wealth be thrown in the waters. When it was rumored that the bearded men (the Spaniards) had entered the country in search of gold, many of the Indians brought their hoarded treasures and offered them as sacrifices in the lake, so that they should not fall into the hands of the Spaniards. The present cacique of the village of Simijaca alone threw into the lake forty loads of gold of one quintal each, carried by forty Indians from the village, as is proven by their own statements and those of the nephew of the cacique sent to escort the Indians.”
Forty quintals, Wilson computed, is £8820, which would make this single offering worth to-day $26,460,000!
He looked up from the dry, crisp documents in front of him and glanced about the room. The tables were lined with readers; a schoolgirl scowling over her 99 notes, pencil to her pouting lips, an old man trying to keep his eyes open over his magazine, a young student from Technology, and a possible art student. Beyond these, there were workingmen and clerks and middle-aged bachelors. Truly they were an ordinary looking lot––prosaic enough, even mediocre, some of them. This was the twentieth century, and they sat here in this modern library reading, perhaps, tales of adventure and hidden treasure. Outside, the trolley cars clanged past. The young man attendant glanced up from his catalogue, yawned, studied the clock, and yawned again.
Wilson looked at them all; then back at his parchment.
Yes, it was still there before his eyes, and represented a treasure of probably half a billion dollars in gold and precious stones!