“Turn as though you were in a dream and stroll into the tent,” Bill told Cliff. He obeyed.
“No use letting the novelty wear off,” Bill grinned to Mr. Whitley. “And, besides, I want him ready to make a grand entrance, sort of the way they do in the circus.”
“Grand entry? To what?” Nicky was still lost in the mazes of this unusual procedure.
“To ride to town with the Inca!” Bill chuckled.
Sure enough, about noon, by which time the crowd around their location had trebled in numbers, a procession was seen on the road.
When it reached them the young fellows stared, hiding their surprise at Bill’s muttered warning. Many soldiers, with bows and arrows, some with curious looking swords, came first; they separated into two lines, to the right and to the left; through the lane advanced many tall, erect men in colorful garments.
These advanced and stopped in a little group. Behind them other men carrying two gorgeous litters, one a little more gaudy than the other, set down their shafts and rested.
What Bill said as he advanced to parley with several men who came a few steps toward him, the other members of the party could not hear. Presently he returned.
“I told them we are servants of the royal and heaven-sent Chasca, who has been sent to bless their land; they seemed to like it. That second ‘hamaca’ is for Cliff.”
He moved close to the tent.