Passing the City of Itza, Chaka announced his determination to rejoin his people and rule over them as their lawful atkayma. Now that Uncle Datchapa was dead he would meet with no opposition, especially if his white brothers continued their trip through the air and did not alight in the city.
Paul protested loudly at first, but a whisper from Ama, whose womanly intuition led her to understand the situation, induced him to let Chaka act as he desired. Their parting, as they embraced in the air, was as affecting as it was novel, and Ama graciously allowed Chaka to kiss her hand by way of farewell. The atkayma handed his electrite to Pedro and divided his rubies among us all, saying he would have no use for them.
“Do not grieve for me, Brother Paul,” said the Maya, pleadingly. “I am sure to be happier in my own country, ruling my people, than in your stiff and luxurious civilization. It’s the call of the wild, I suppose, and I am wise to heed it. Think of me kindly sometimes, you and Ama; but think of me as free and contented, leading the chase and the wars against the Mopanes. And now, farewell!”
He unfastened the rope from his belt, released a portion of the gas from his jacket, and slowly descended into the city. We waited long enough to see him surrounded by the natives, who prostrated themselves humbly before him, and then resumed our journey.
* * * * * * * *
It was a tedious yet arduous trip, that flight over Eastern Yucatan, for the wind was contrary and we had hard work to make satisfactory progress. There was no safety in alighting, so we kept on as best we could.
The night was brilliantly lighted by the stars and moon, and we were too excited to feel fatigue. It was a marvelous experience for Ama, yet the girl was not a bit afraid and endured the strain as well as the stoutest of us.
By daylight we came to the seacoast, and proceeding north, with a slight breeze in our favor now, we presently sighted by the aid of Paul’s field glasses our handsome ship the Seagull. She was standing in toward the shore from the open sea, a proceeding followed daily by my father ever since we had left him, so that he might be on hand to assist us if we suddenly appeared along the shore.
They were all considerably astonished when they discovered us coming by “air route,” and it was amusing to us from our elevated position to observe them craning their necks to watch us. Archie, when we were just over the deck—father had stopped the engines by that time—mischievously dropped a ruby that struck Uncle Naboth plump on his bald head and made him whoop like an Indian.
We landed safely on the dock, and oh, how glad we were to feel the planks under our feet again and be relieved from all anxiety.