“Yes, Senor Hampton, that is what I believe. These horses either wandered thus far across the mountains, which seems preposterous, or, as is more likely, were captured by scouting parties and brought hither. The intermixture among the Incas of Spaniards in de Arguello’s early expedition or of adventurers captured since, as is more likely, told the Incas of these horses, and mayhap even helped to capture them.”
“This valley is certainly marvellous,” declared Mr. Hampton, shading his eyes with his hand, as he gazed about him in the bright sunlight. “Notice those irrigation ditches, carrying water to the fields everywhere from the lakes. Why, this is so intensively cultivated, it can raise sufficient food for a great city without difficulty.”
Don Ernesto nodded.
“The ancient Incas were fine agriculturists,” said he. “They practised irrigation, and had a very good knowledge of culture of the soil. These, their descendants, seem to be no whit behind them.”
At this moment they were interrupted by an exclamation from Frank, who pointed to two figures approaching them across the lawn. They were Prince Huaca and another young man dressed as he, evidently a noble. He was regarding them with curiosity. He did not address them, however, but the two halted at a little distance and concluded their conversation, during all of which time the stranger regarded them with bright quick glances.
Then he bowed to Prince Huaca, and the latter issued a command at which the guard started forward with the prisoners in their midst. They moved down the great driveway from the mansion to a highroad crossing the valley to the encircling mountains. Jack looked back as they reached the highroad, and saw the figure of the young noble, immobile, staring after them.
“He certainly was curious,” he commented.
Frank, who marched beside him, shook his head.
“I believe I know what was in his mind,” said he.
“What?” Jack glanced at him curiously.