He willingly let the nugget pass from hand to hand:––it was restful as sleep to make the trail seem short. To Don Ruy he had told somewhat of its finding, and the story in full was promised some day to the cavalcade.
And at Ah-ko where they rested––they had not halted at hostile Ci-bo-la!––At Ah-ko where the great pool on the high mesa made glad their eyes, and the chiefs came to pay ceremonial visits, and the men felt they were nearing the end;––there, at the urging of Don Ruy who deemed it worthy of the “Relaciones”––there was told the story of the bit of gold, the Symbol of the Sun, as it had been told to Padre Vicente years before.
“Yes––I did mean to tell you of the finding of it,” he announced amiably. “I have listened to all your discourses and romances on the journey––and good ones there were among them! But mine would not have been good to tell when seeking recruits, it might have lessened their ardor––for a reason you will shortly perceive!”
“I plainly perceive already that the good father has saved us thus far from a fright!” decided Don Ruy.
“Since a man lived through it you can perhaps endure the telling of it––even here in the half darkness,” said the priest, and noted that Don Diego was sharpening a pen, and Chico taking an ink horn from his pocket. The journal of the good gentleman had grown to be one of the joyful things of the journey, and the more gay adventurers gave him some wondrous tales to include.
“It is not a pretty tale, but it may teach you somewhat of these brown people of the stone houses––and some of the meaning back of their soft smiles! It is not a new tale of to-day:––it goes back to the time when the vessels of Narvaez went to the bottom and a few men found their way westward to Mexico.”
“De Vaca and his men?” said Don Diego. But the priest shook his head.
“Earlier than that.”
“Earlier? Holy Father:––how could that be when no others––”