There was a rocky wall running along one side of the city. This merely suggested a prison. But for all that, it might as well have been a prison wall. They were prisoners. They had learned this on the second day. With the vision of the red lure burning brightly in his eyes, Johnny had proposed that they find the way over which they had come, and try following it back. They had experienced little difficulty in finding the trail, but once they came to the spot where it entered the jungle, they had found it completely blocked by grim little brown men. These offered no violence, but neither would they move aside and allow them to pass. They blocked the way and shook their heads.
“Orders of the Chief,” Roderick had said. “I expected that.”
So their first attempt at escape had failed.
Prisoners though they were, they had been given the range of the city and the surrounding open spaces where corn waved in the bright sun, where banana plants reared themselves to the sky and cocoanut palms waved long plumes in air.
No guests could have been treated more royally. The best of food, wild turkey, deer, armadillo, the best of meats, the finest of corn cakes, the most delicious of fruits were served to them. At night they lay upon beds that rivaled the couches of kings. For all this, they were made to know that they were not to leave the land of the Mayas.
“Not ever?” said Jean with a wrinkled brow.
“Perhaps never,” Johnny said solemnly.
“Johnny, we were mad.”
“You are right. We were quite out of our heads when we came here. But what’s the fun of living if you can’t have some adventure?”
“Yes, there is joy in it!” exclaimed the girl, springing down from her perch on the carved rock. “And to-day, since we can’t leave, we will discover something wonderful in the midst of these ruins.”