“I am Chaka, Royal Atkayma of the Itzaex,” returned our spokesman. “These companions are from countries beyond the sea.”
The red-beard nodded.
“Little is there on bleak Aota to reward you for your journey,” he remarked. It seemed he spoke the native language as well as Chaka did. “May the gods of your fathers direct you upon your return.”
It was hard to answer this hint and say we were not going back just then. We had no doubt that before us perched an inhabitant of the hidden city, one of the mysterious and ancient race of Tcha. Remembering the report of Chaka’s father that spies were detailed to guard the mountain from intrusion we at once decided that this fellow was of this class. He would have had poor eyes, indeed, had he not noted our aerial approach, and his presence was now to be attributed to his desire to warn us against ascending the mountain farther.
As for our being able to get much information from him, the task seemed hopeless; but Allerton, addressing us in a low voice in English, said:
“I am going to ask this man some questions. Now that he has discovered us I can see no harm in trying to pump him. He will report our presence to his superiors, anyhow.”
“Maybe not,” I responded significantly.
“Don’t try to hurt him, for heaven’s sake!” warned Allerton. “We can’t afford to antagonize these people in any way. Our cue is to make them our friends.”
I had my own opinion concerning that, but said nothing.
The lieutenant now turned to the man above us, speaking the Maya to him.