I had but a moment in which to view the impressive scene. Scarcely had the head of our column entered this natural prison when it was greeted with wild shouts of triumph, immediately succeeded by shrieks of distress, while there streamed forward to meet us a tumultuous band of savages, a large proportion of whom were women and children. The children were absolutely nude and peculiarly white of skin, while the former wore rude skirts of coarsely woven cloth fastened about the waist, their long hair in many instances trailing upon the ground, yielding them a wildness of aspect beyond description; yet withal they were not uncomely of features. These newcomers thronged about us with scowling faces, and, when sternly forced back by the lowered weapons of the guard, either joined the procession, or else trooped alongside, yelling and jeering.
Pressed forward, although by now so utterly spent I could barely stagger rapidly enough to escape those pitiless thrusts, I mechanically noted enough of our surroundings to understand that we traversed ground which had been cultivated; that low fences, here and there encountered, divided the land into small sections, even as in more civilized regions farmers protect their fields. What their crops may have been I could not determine, the season of harvest being already past, yet I distinguished what I supposed must be evidences of garden culture, observing also a considerable ditch, certainly four feet in width, filled with clear running water, which seemed to encircle the entire basin, the deeper green of vegetation marking its course close up against the farther rock wall.
The view directly in advance was at first obscured by the leaping figures of the exultant savages leading the way, whooping with excitement, and wildly brandishing their war-clubs. These at length fell back along either side, our guards hurrying us across the ditch, spanned by the great trunk of a tree, and thus on into the village. This town resembled no other encampment of savages on which my eyes had ever looked. I saw a wide open space, a blackened stake set in the middle of it, the ground bare of vegetation, and tramped hard as if by countless feet. Beyond, circling this plaza upon two sides, were several rows of houses, all facing the same direction. It reminded me of pictures I had seen of Hebrew camps in my father's great Bible, only the houses were built of sun-dried clay, such as peons use in the far Southwest on the Brazos, square in shape, of but a single story, having dome-shaped roofs, heavily thatched with cane. They were windowless, with one narrow opening for a door, protected by a heavy matting of grass. Behind these, perhaps a hundred yards or more, and within a short distance of the steep cliffs bounding the upper extremity of the valley, there arose from the surface of the plain two immense rounded mounds of earth, each fully a hundred paces wide at its base, sloping sharply upward. Considerable vacant space lay between the two, while on the apex of each stood buildings of sun-baked clay, resembling in form those below, yet much larger, and, because of their elevation, appearing spacious and imposing. Above one were posed three rudely carven figures bearing a slight resemblance to giant eagles, their wings outspread as if for flight. The other was surmounted by a hideous, grotesque figure, blackened as by fire, with distorted face daubed a glaring yellow, and long hair glittering from red pigment. Here the grass curtain had been drawn aside, while before the entrance, their faces striped with disfiguring black lines, their dull vestments trailing to the ground and gaudily trimmed with fanciful trappings, their coarse hair so trained as to stand almost erect, were two aged men, who, with wild gesticulations, and solemn chanting, were apparently paying adoration to the setting sun, the last beams streaming over them through a rift in the western wall.
Directly past these priests we were driven like cattle, finding ourselves plunged into a vast square gloomy apartment, having an earthen floor, but utterly devoid of either furnishings or ornament. There was another mat-draped opening at the farther side, and in the centre a huge log smouldered, resting upon what bore the appearance of a rudely chipped altar of rock. About this were ranged numerous fancifully painted statues of wood, grotesque and hideous, while a third figure, attired as were the aged priests without, lay prone upon the earth moaning as if in agony. The walls were hung thickly with undressed skins of wild animals, and at the back stood a slightly upraised platform of logs, cut in halves by a narrow passageway leading toward the second curtained door. It was in the midst of this we halted, still under strict surveillance of our brutal guards. These, however, permitted us to sink down exhausted on the hard floor.
CHAPTER XXII
PRISONERS IN THE TEMPLE
A fear of impending danger will not always prove sufficiently strong to prevent yielding to the demands of fatigue. I realized the desperation of our position, feeling no doubt regarding our ultimate fate. I read it plainly in our surroundings, as well as within those vengeful, scowling faces, yet so dulled was every physical sense from excessive weariness that I had passed through much already described like a man in a dream. The brief repose of the previous night, broken by nervous, superstitious terrors, the anxious effort to escape from the haunted canyon, the hurried labor on our rude defences, the two fierce combats with the savages, my numerous wounds, none dangerous yet weakening me by loss of blood, together with the rapid marching and the difficult climb up the cliff, combined to exhaust my vitality so completely that, the moment we halted within the sacred precincts of this temple, I flung myself full length upon the floor. I remember the sun had already disappeared behind the western heights. I retain some slight memory of a tender hand resting softly on my forehead, of a familiar voice questioning me, yet if I made response, it must have been in the unconsciousness of sleep, as these faint remembrances were my last.
I had no means of telling how long I lay thus, close against the north wall of the building in that very posture in which I had first fallen. It must have been after hours of unconsciousness I was at last partially aroused by the reviving touch of cool water with which my face was being bathed. As I slowly unclosed my heavy eyes the huge smouldering log in the centre of the room burst into sudden flame, lighting the interior, casting weird, dancing shadows along the black walls, its red radiance falling upon the face bending above me, and permitting me to look into the dark, troubled eyes of Eloise de Noyan.
"There is no necessity for moving," she explained softly. "Nothing of moment has occurred since you fell asleep, except that the savages brought us food."