One of these animated chains swung to and fro so near to Donalblane that he thought the grinning, grasping creatures meant to attack him, and he drew his cutlass to strike at them, when happily Mr. Paterson divined his intention, and with a quick movement caught his arm.
"Let them alone, my lad," he said almost sternly. "They will do you no harm. They are sacred here. Be careful."
It was well he had been so quick, for already some of the stalwart attendants of the king had observed Donalblane, and were lifting their long spears menacingly.
Donalblane's weapon went back into its sheath; and, bracing himself up, he said under his breath—
"Ye grinning loons, ye'll not scairt me, but gin ye do lay hands on me, I'll gi'e ye a clout that'll teach ye manners."
The uneasiness of the Scotsmen at the monkeys' antics must have been amusing enough to the natives, who not only tolerated the saucy creatures, but looked upon them as sacred, and therefore regarded their appearance on the scene as a favourable omen; in fact, nothing more fortunate for the success of the embassy could have occurred. The pawarress, or priests, were particularly pleased. So, too, was the king; and when at last the monkeys, doubling up their chains again, returned to the tree-tops and scampered off in high glee, both he and the priests were ready to enter into negotiations.
A treaty was accordingly drawn up and ratified, whereby full freedom was given to the Scots to settle in the land and enjoy it, and between them and the natives there was declared to be peace "as long as rivers ran, and gold was found in Darien." Then followed a banquet prepared and served in true native style. The roast flesh of the peccary, broiled fish from the mountain streams, and luscious fruit from the trees all around composed the bill of fare; and the hungry visitors needed no urging until there was produced the dish of honour, being a huge lizard, called the iguana, carefully baked and served up with tomato sauce.
One look at it was quite sufficient to make the Scotsmen suddenly lose their appetites. With one consent they began to invent excuses for letting the tempting dish go by them. All except Mr. Paterson. He had tasted iguana before and knew it was not at all unsavoury. Moreover, good manners required that this item should not be treated with disgust. So he bravely helped himself to a goodly slice, and when it came round to Donalblane, he, by way of atoning for his mistake in regard to the monkeys, did likewise.
It was a hard job getting down the first morsel, but the flesh proving white, firm, and of fine quality, with a flavour somewhat resembling chicken, he actually managed to polish off his portion, being rewarded therefor by a look of warm approval from Mr. Paterson.
The following morning the embassy set forth on their return to the coast, attended by all the honours and marks of goodwill that had marked their arrival; but before they reached their destination Donalblane had an adventure that came within an ace of costing him his life.