He was clothed in a white toga which had a border of deep blue. His hair and a long beard that swept to his knees was golden red. His eyes were large and blue in color, his features regular, expressive and intelligent. Strangest of all his skin was white as our own!
I could not see that he bore any arms, but while he might not be very tall, if standing erect, the muscles that showed in his bare arms and neck convinced me he was powerfully built and strong as an ox.
Silently he sat, his knees clasped by his brawny hands, and even when he found himself observed he gave no start nor evidence of emotion.
The situation became rather embarrassing to us at last, for while we were objects of the man’s earnest scrutiny—a scrutiny that seemed to search out and analyze our very thoughts—his composed countenance offered us little information in return.
Chaka, as the important member of our party, just then, stood up and bowed with great solemnity. Speaking the Maya tongue, common to all the tribes throughout Yucatan, he said:
“I greet a friend. May peace reign between us.”
“If our god so decrees,” was the reply, in a deep, resonate voice. This was an established Maya form of greeting among strangers. Said Chaka, continuing:
“Whence do you come?”
“My foot was planted here before your own. It is for you to say from whence you came.”
The man spoke quietly, without a trace of curiosity in his tone. Doubtless he did not require information concerning us.