Then, raising his hands above his head and fixing his eyes upon the sun, he began muttering what seemed to be a prayer.
This done, he turned to the professor and poured out a rapid flood of eager, emphatic words in his corrupt Spanish. So fast did he speak that the professor had difficulty in following him. But by paying close attention he managed to make out the old man’s meaning.
“What does he say?” asked Mr. Tubbs, as the old Indian ceased his torrent of words, and leaned back, looking quite exhausted.
“Why, it’s like fiction,” said the professor. “The old man says that we are fulfilling a tradition of his race which says that one day winged men from the sky would discover the city.”
“Well, that’s a good omen,” said Nat.
“W-w-w-whatever that may be,” sputtered Ding-dong. “Guess you mean n-n-no men.”
But the professor paid no attention to the irrepressible youth. Instead, he assumed rather a grave look.
“Why, I’m not quite so sure that it is a good augury,” he said slowly. “The old man says that the prophecy or tradition goes on to say that the wrath of the long-dead Incas shall be visited on the violators of their hidden city, and that a terrible end will overtake the sky men who invade it.”
As the professor talked the old Indian fixed his eyes on him as if he realized what he was saying. As the man of science concluded, he nodded solemnly, as if indorsing all that had been told.
“Oh, well,” said Nat, “we are not going to turn back for the sake of an old Indian ghost story.”