When we had been properly fixed up and inspected by the wild-eyed one, who had authority under the senile High Priest, we were ushered past the great temple to the gates of the enclosure beyond. Here the priests turned us over to the care of six beautiful damsels whose tunics bore the device of the flaming sun. They were in no way embarrassed by the care of nine men of a strange race. Indeed, they regarded us impersonally as sacrifices intended in the near future to propitiate their god.
Demurely they led us along flower-bordered walks; into the main entrance of the magnificent palace of the Priestesses, through a lofty hall and out by a rear entrance, down a long pergola shaded by climbing roses, past a garden resplendent with rare and gorgeous blooms, and finally into a roomy pavilion that stood almost at the edge of the cliff that towered above the city.
The pillars, roof and floor of the pavilion were of pure white marble. In the center was a fountain that sent its cooling sprays far into the air. Beyond the fountain we found the floor strewn with exquisite rugs and downy cushions while in the rear of this spacious retreat was a golden divan upon which reclined the High Priestess, Supreme Ruler of the Vale of Tcha.
How shall I describe Ama to you? Shall I say she was the embodiment of grace and beauty, that her figure was tall and supple, her hair a golden bronze, her eyes turquoise and her lips budded like a rose? All that seems stale and flat in depicting Ama.
To our amazement this redoubtable High Priestess, in whose hands reposed all power, was a mere child, scarcely more than seventeen years of age.
No daintier, fairer, sweeter girl could be imagined. Reared from the cradle to occupy this exalted position, she was a real queen, regal alike in bearing, in natural attributes, in education and in person. Never had she known a wish unfulfilled, never a command thwarted. She had succeeded her mother at twelve years of age, and her omnipotence among the Tcha was accepted by the girl without a thought that she owed all to the accident of birth.
As we stood before her the mighty priestess sat up and examined us with undisguised interest. First she deliberately stared at Paul, until his eyes fell and a deep blush suffused his face. Then Chaka was observed, with evidences of lively approval. Indeed, the youthful atkayma looked very handsome in his haughty, dignified pose, and his brown eyes met those of Ama quite frankly. When she turned to me I bowed and smiled. She was only a girl; why should I fear her? Yet for some reason we had all forgotten entirely our instructions to prostrate ourselves most humbly before the Supreme Ruler. We felt more like treating her as we would an American girl.
One by one she silently scrutinized us all. Then, lying back on her cushions, she waved her hands and said:
“Be seated, thou consecrated ones, thou who art sacred to our Lord the Sun. Let us converse together,” she added, graciously.
We squatted on the rugs, arranging ourselves as comfortably as possible, and the attendant Virgins followed suit. When we were seated Ama said: