There was a patch of cleared ground outside the village and Jack aimed the great flying auto toward this. By this time the crowd had increased till the village was swarming with humanity. Suddenly, as they shot downward, they saw an odd procession emerge from the central building. Several men in scarlet robes appeared, escorting a tall man dressed entirely in white.
“That’s the king, or chief, or whatever they call him, I reckon,” remarked Captain Sprowl. “If we can make a hit with his nibs, we’re all right.”
“Wonder what those red fellows that look like bottles of chili-sauce, are?” asked Dick, the inquisitive.
“Priests, I guess, or suthin of that nature,” was the reply of the captain, “and say, young fellow, you don’t want to get disrespectful among these folks. They might resent it and their resentment takes the form of a spear in the ribs.”
The flying auto came to the ground as easily as usual; but Jack experienced some difficulty in clearing a path for his landing. Far from running from the machine, which must have been the strangest they had ever seen, the natives appeared to be more curious than alarmed. They crowded about it and several narrowly escaped being run over.
“I don’t much like the look of this,” muttered the captain to Mr. Chadwick. “They don’t scare worth a cent, and that’s a bad sign. Look at ‘em size us up, too. Don’t a soul of you leave the machine whatever happens, till I give the word,” he added.
“Hullo! Here comes his nibs,” said the irreverent Dick, as the crowd gave way respectfully and the tall man in white, with his scarlet-robed retainers, advanced.
As he drew nearer, they saw that although he appeared to be tall, the white-robed man was only altitudinous by comparison with his subjects, as they guessed them to be. These latter were much like the Indians they had encountered the day before, only a trifle more intelligent looking. They had the same small stature, copper-colored skins, straight black hair and sloe eyes. Several of the younger ones bore a striking resemblance to dark-colored Japanese.
The red-robed men, surrounding the chief, wore circles of feathers like coronets around their heads, and several of the villagers sported the same decoration. As only those so decorated were armed with spears, or bows or blow-pipes, the travelers assumed that they formed the warrior or hunter class. In this they were correct.
“Anybody speak English?—United States?” asked the captain, as the white-robed chieftain approached. He was anxious to remove any impression that they were Spaniards or Portuguese, two races that the Indians hate with an undying resentment for their past cruelties. The captain bowed low to the ruler as he spoke and the others followed his example.