About noon a troop of Indian girls entered, bearing food in various pots and earthen dishes which they set upon the floor before us. I have remarked upon the beauty of the male Itzaex, but I must confess their women are not up to the standard. Nearly all are short and dumpish in form, with dull eyes and apathetic countenances. I never saw a pretty Itzaex girl while I was there.
The food was plentiful and of good quality, but poorly seasoned and carelessly cooked. The meats were mutton or wild game, supplemented by various vegetables such as rice, barley and a root resembling turnip. The bread was heavy and tough; but we managed to eat it, nevertheless, and I am sure we ought to have been satisfied for the feast was as good as the natives were able to provide.
After dinner we waited in vain for Chaka to come to us. As the hours rolled by Allerton began to be uneasy and disturbed. Not until the sun had sunk low upon the horizon and we had come to heartily detest the blank walls of our room did our friend, the atkayma, finally appear. He seemed grave and thoughtful as he entered, and after a word of greeting he squatted on the floor before us.
“They have kept me busy,” he said in English. “I could not come before. There have been councils and discussions all day. Just now I have come from the great temple, where the priests have been telling me my duty.”
“Poor Brother!” said Paul. “It is not easy to be a king.”
Chaka shrugged his shoulders.
“Not that, Brother Paul,” said he. “But it is not easy to run against the traditions of an ancient people, to defy a powerful priesthood and stand alone against a nation.”
“Have you done that, Chaka?”
“I had to do it. Otherwise you would all now be dead.”
“Do they object to us so strongly?” I asked.