“Spanish, then? Anybody speak Spanish?” asked the captain in that language.
One of the red-robed men stepped forward. He was a fine-looking man with an expression almost of intellect which the others, even the chief, notably lacked.
“I speak Spanish,” he replied in that language, which they learned later he spoke with a most barbaric accent, “but you are not Spaniards?”
“No, we come from the north, from America,” rejoined the captain, with a sweep of his hand toward that point of the compass.
The red-robed man turned to the chief and spoke rapidly in a not unmusical tongue. The white-robed man nodded comprehendingly and then the inquisitor turned to the captain again. Of course the conversation was not understood by the boys but the captain gave them the details afterward.
“You come in that flying canoe?” was the next question.
The captain deemed it wise to reply in the affirmative. He added that having heard wonderful things of the country they had come to pay it a friendly visit.
He said nothing just then of the real object of their journey, thinking it more prudent to leave this till later on.
This reply being translated to the chief, that dignitary himself appeared to suggest a question. It was one that was to the point, too.
“What do you want in this country?” asked Red-robe.