“I have but eighty men left alive,” he stated. “The Itzaex are thousands.”
“But you have possession of the pass,” said Paul, “and I and my comrades will be there to help you. At all hazards the Itzaex must be kept from entering the valley. If they succeed they will kill without mercy every inhabitant.”
The Waba asserted he would do all in his power, and retired to assemble his men. Like all the rest of his people he was completely discouraged and had no hope of making a successful resistance.
When the miner, Ampax, arrived he proved to be a fine big fellow with a bushy beard of fiery red and keen, steadfast eyes. He was asked to get together all the men of his caste that he could and raise a rampart of stones across the mouth of the pass. As this was nearly a hundred feet in width it seemed a herculean task; but Ampax promptly undertook to do all that was possible. We liked this fellow. In this crisis he was the most capable Tcha we had found.
All night the miners labored at the pass and many others of the Tcha, when they understood the matter, willingly assisted them. The ground was well littered with rocks and blocks of marble from ruined buildings, so material was close at hand. By daybreak a barrier had been erected nearly five feet in height entirely across the opening.
Waba Pagatka came with his men, fully armed with spears and battle-axes, and the soldiers were lined up behind the barrier. Ama had ordered our firearms and ammunition returned to us, and these, supplemented by our electrites, made our little party of nine more formidable than the eighty soldiers of Pagatka. But the Tcha were at last beginning to take a lively interest in their own welfare and at daybreak volunteers began to join our ranks in fair numbers, among them several of the priesthood. They came armed very primitively with whatever weapons they could pick up. Axes, knives and heavy clubs were the chief of these, and there were a few bows and arrows brought out, but not many. Never in the lifetime of this generation had they been called upon to fight a battle; but they were a calm and determined lot, in spite of their inexperience, and we looked for them to render a good account of themselves.
Altogether we mustered that morning some four hundred men all told, and opposed to us were more than five thousand skilled Itzaex warriors, the bravest and fiercest fighters I have ever known. Really, our case seemed desperate.
The enemy broke camp at daybreak and marched up the mountain in good military order. At their head was borne aloft an open palanquin, upon which reclined a man who was doubtless their leader. Paul examined him through his field glasses and declared he was none other than our old enemy Datchapa. How the ancient uncle of the atkayma had managed to survive his tumble down the pyramid was a wonder; but he had, and of course he had soon recovered from the shock of the electrite.
The attack of the Itzaex was now fully explained. Chaka’s father, believing his son dead, had before his own demise confided the secret of the hidden city to Datchapa, who would become his successor. Doubtless he included in the tale a description of the beauty and riches of the city and valley. So when the earthquake came and the Itzaex saw the mountain rent asunder and a passage opened, old Datchapa had quickly decided to invade and conquer the stricken and helpless kingdom of the Tcha. That secluded race was certainly unprepared to oppose such an invasion, never having dreamed of trouble with their neighbors, the Itzaex, which proved how little they understood the savage nature of the tribe surrounding their retreat.
The sun had risen brilliantly when the attack began. The Itzaex were probably surprised at sight of the rampart which had sprung up in a single night, but they did not hesitate to advance upon it. Datchapa halted his palanquin to one side, but quite near the scene of action, and sat up, propped by his cushions, to direct the battle. I imagine his fall had broken some limbs that were slowly mending, but the old fellow’s energetic spirit urged him to lead his people on this momentous occasion in spite of his injuries.