Runners had been sent forward and before we reached the walls of Itza people came pouring out of the nearest gate in a dense throng, every eye being set in our direction. There was no confusion or excitement apparent—I wonder if an Itzaex ever could get excited?—but they plainly showed their interest in their newly discovered youthful atkayma by trooping out to meet him.
And Chaka received a right royal welcome.
Men, women and children “bit the dust,” as Archie said, by prostrating themselves before him. The boy looked very handsome in his gleaming copper skin and the single heron feather set in his hair, and he walked into his hereditary kingdom as proud as a peacock, as well he might.
Just within the gates stood an impatient group clad in flowing robes embroidered with colored feather work. I think I omitted saying that most of the people of the city wore single loose robes similar to the togas of the ancient Greeks or the burnous of the Egyptians. Only those engaged in hunting or upon an expedition of war cast aside all covering but the loin cloth.
A curious fact which I observed was that all the robes were of colors or tints. Among the common people dark blues and purples were much affected. The merchants and middle classes, including the warriors, wore greens and yellows. The nobility adopted delicate shades of lavender, rose and saffron. I saw no red, as yet. Pure white was reserved for the royal family alone, and the foremost figure in the group I have mentioned was an old man arrayed in soft flowing white and bearing over his arm another garment of like texture and color.
As Chaka entered the gate this ancient dignitary—I knew at once it was his precious Uncle Datchapa—raised an arm to bar his way and gazed shrewdly into the young man’s countenance. It did not take long to convince him, for in a moment he threw the extra robe over Chaka’s head and then knelt before him as the others had done. All the group, members of the nobility and the royal council, followed suit, and there they remained until the new atkayma bade them rise.
It seemed to me that we, Chaka’s friends and comrades, were somewhat important and distinguished ourselves, and entitled to consideration; but old Datchapa and his backers disregarded us utterly, affecting to ignore our presence. We stuck stubbornly at the atkayma’s heels and except for his uncle, whom he retained at his side, all the other big bugs were forced to fall into the procession behind us.
A procession it really became now. Musicians were present who blew weird sounds upon reed flutes and beat tom-toms to keep us all in step. The streets were lined with spectators, who uttered no cheers of welcome but fell on their faces automatically as Chaka approached and rose again when he had passed on. It seemed as if we tramped miles and miles before the royal progress finally reached the shores of the lake, where stood the palace. It was a great, rambling building, two stories high and built of blocks of rough marble with pillars and ornaments showing much clever carving.
Chaka mounted the broad steps to the entrance and then turned and addressed the crowd. He told them how he had been carried away from Yucatan nine years before and of how he had managed to return. He praised his “white brothers” for their noble assistance and introduced Allerton to them especially, placing his hand on Paul’s shoulder in token of his friendship. He then expressed his joy at beholding again his native land, his sorrow at the terrible death of his beloved father, the former atkayma, and his intention of ruling his people wisely and with consideration. He called upon them to prove their allegiance and pledge their support at all times to their royal ruler, the Child of the Gods, who promised to protect them in return.
They answered the speech by raising their right arms and shouting a single word: “Kaym!”[2] in unison, after which the throng quietly dispersed.