Several llamas, the native sheep, that is the largest of the four varieties, whose wool was the most coarse and used only for the garments of the subjects—the nobles got the finer wools!—had been brought up. They were the only beasts the Incas knew for burdens.
But Nicky thought they were there to be ridden!
Now a llama is a curious animal; he will carry a light burden without complaint; but if the load is heavier than he likes he will lie down and he won’t get up until the load is lightened.
Nicky flung the strap which was fastened between two small packs over the llama’s back and then, with a hop, was up there himself.
Thereupon the beast lay down promptly. Nicky shouted and slapped its woolly side, but it made a queer little grunt and lay still. The natives broke into shouts of laughter, as also did Tom and Bill as the latter hastened to explain to Nicky that he must walk.
Cliff had seen the little incident and he had hard work to avoid laughing; but he maintained sober gravity and soon the caravan was ready and moved slowly toward the road; first the soldiers, then the nobles, or priests perhaps; then came Bill and John Whitley walking at either side of Cliff’s litter; after them were Nicky and Tom, and then a regular throng of natives chanting and singing.
“Don’t ask about the white man—your father—too soon,” Bill warned Cliff softly. “It might arouse suspicion. But we’re on our way to Quichaka and I hope we find your pa well and wise.”
“So do I,” muttered Cliff, “I can hardly wait!”
It was a slow but interesting journey to Quichaka. The youths feasted their eyes on strange scenes. The valley was laid out in splendid farms, with many vegetables that were not easy to recognize, although great fields of maize or corn could easily be identified. The road was beautifully smooth, of great flat stones laid straight and level. Once they passed over a bridge of huge stonework piles, with heavy timbers laid across to support the flat slabs of the roadway.
Finally they came into the city. It was spread out widely, and, as Bill estimated later, probably had a population of some eight or ten thousand. In the poorer quarters the houses were of a rude clay-like composition, much like the adobe of Mexico; the finer homes were of stones, large and small, rough for the most part, but with their edges, where they joined, smooth and so closely matched that the joints were hard to detect; they had no windows; the Incas did not know about glass. The doors were open in the temperate noonday and early afternoon warmth; within there was too much gloom to show the furnishings.