“CAUGHT UP SOME OF THE TORCHES AND ADVANCED IN A BODY.”
“Perhaps,” said Juan, “if we can make them think so they won’t—won’t—” he was going to say “eat us,” but changed it to “hurt us.”
Diego had thought of the same thing. The other Indians had readily believed, without any suggestion from the voyagers, that they were from the skies. Why should not these? He spoke to them in the tongue he knew.
“We are from the skies. We will not do you any harm if you do not molest us.”
The men listened attentively, and the boys could see the cave beyond them crowded full to the very entrance. When Diego had ceased to speak, the men consulted among themselves in a puzzled way, as if trying to make out the full sense of what they had heard.
Then they drew nearer and approached until they were within arm’s-length of the boys, who watched them uneasily, but without knowing how to act; for the actions of the men were not merely pacific, but even conciliatory. Diego drew a long breath and whispered to Juan:
“I think we’d better act as if we were not afraid.”
It was more easily suggested than accomplished, but it was so plainly the only thing to do, and the men were so mild in their manner, that Diego gained courage to act upon a sudden inspiration. He took a hawk’s bell from his pocket and, jingling it, gave it to the man nearest him.