The order had scarcely left the Captain’s lips ere those in the vanguard had already set about obeying it, and it was passed down the line, each rank forming up as it went by, for every man in the little army, from the Captain-General himself to the meanest pike-bearer of them all, knew that on such an errand as theirs each one took his life in his own hands, and more than that, might by his own failure put all the rest in jeopardy.
Two days before all the faint-hearts whose courage had failed them in face of the difficulties and dangers of that unknown march had been given a chance to go back to San Miguel without loss of credit, and they had gone. There were only nine of them out of a hundred and eighty men, and all the rest were staunch and true, for their going had made the little army stronger and not weaker, and the Captain knew that on every man that was with him he could trust without fear for his own life and the honour of the great enterprise.
More than this, every man knew his orders almost before he got them, and so was worth three who might not have known them. So hardly had the word of command reached the other end of the column than every cavalier was in the saddle, helmed and plumed and in his place in the rank, and every footman was marching step for step with his fellow, and the whole army was moving forward over the desert, not limping or straggling now, but firm and close-ranked like a living wall of steel and iron.
The pace was now nearly doubled, for the column was moving with the uniform motion of a machine instead of that of a crowd of straggling units, and not many minutes had gone by before the leading troop of horsemen saw a considerable body of natives emerge from the long low line of straggling thicket which formed, as it might be, the union between the wilderness of rock and dry earth and the green-carpeted, plentifully wooded valley which swept in waves of gentle, rolling wood-crowned hillspurs far away to the eastward where the giant shapes of the mountains beyond loomed dark and vague through the purple haze of the tropical evening.
They could see now, almost right ahead of them but a little to the left-hand side, a considerable town lying in a little side valley between two bold green bluffs, on each of which stood a guardian fortress which all must pass between who would gain the town from that side.
The sun, which was now sending its almost level beams across the desert plain and low hills which the Spaniards had crossed during the day, glinted brightly on polished mail and helm and trappings, so that to the wondering eyes of the natives who were coming to meet them they seemed as though already adorned with the glory of their deity and endowed with unmistakable marks of his favour. So when they came near to the glittering strangers mounted on those wondrous beasts, whose fame had already travelled far through the land, some of them stood back and waited as though awe-stricken, but others came on making gestures of welcome and deference.
When the two companies were within some fifty paces of each other the Captain made the signal for a halt, and called Filipillo to him. As the lad came to his stirrup he said shortly—
“Seek out some one of credible appearance among those yonder. Ask him the name of the valley and town, and how many soldiers there are in it. Then say that we come in peace on an embassy to the Inca, and ask for guides and safe conduct to the town.”
“I obey, Lord!” Filipillo replied, laying his hand lightly on Pizarro’s foot. Then he looked up, and with a half-boyish, half-cunning smile said, in a soft, almost girlish voice, “and may I not say too, Lord, that the sons of Viracocha are coming to do the bidding of their father?”
“Do thou my bidding, boy, and leave these unholy fancies to the heathen. Have we made thee so bad a Christian that thou should still prate of thy false gods and seek to make us their servants? Go and speak only the words that I have put into thy mouth. What else is it for, save to do that and praise the Lord and His saints?”