On that I took off my upper garments and Mamcuna, rising from her hammock, examined me as closely as a military surgeon examines a freshly caught recruit. She felt the muscles of my arms, thumped my chest, took note of the width of my back, punched my ribs, and finally pulled a few hairs out of my beard. Then, smiling approval, she retired to her chinchura.
“You may put on your clothes; the inspection is over,” said Gondocori. “I am glad it has passed off so well. I was rather afraid, though, when she began to pinch you.”
“Afraid of what?”
“Well, the queen is rather curious about skin and color and that, and does curious things sometimes. She once had a strip of skin cut out of a mestiza maiden’s back, to see whether it was the same color on both sides. But she seems to have taken quite a liking for you; says you are the prettiest man she ever saw; and if you cure her of her illness I have no doubt she will give you a condor’s skull helmet and make you a cacique.”
“I am greatly obliged to her Majesty, I am sure, and very thankful she did not take a fancy to cut a piece out of my back. As for curing her, I must first of all know what is the matter.”
“Shall I ask her to describe her symptoms?”
“If you please.” In reply to the questions which I put, through Gondocori, the queen said that she suffered from headache, nausea, and sleeplessness, and that, whereas only a few years ago she was lithe, active, and gay, she was now heavy, indolent, and melancholy, adding that she had suffered much at the hands of the late court medicine-man, who did not understand her case at all, and that to punish him for his ignorance and presumption she made him swallow a jarful of his own physic, from the effects of which he shortly afterward expired in great agony. The place was now vacant, and if I succeeded in restoring her to health she would make me his successor and always have me near her person.
I cannot say that I regarded this prospect as particularly encouraging; nevertheless, I tried to look pleased and told Gondocori to assure the queen of my gratitude and devotion and ask her to show me her tongue. He put this request with evident reluctance, and Mamcuna made an angry reply.
“I knew how it would be,” said the cacique. “You have put her in a rage. She thinks you want to insult her, and absolutely refuses to make herself hideous by sticking out her tongue.”
“She will of course do as she pleases. But unless she shows me her tongue I cannot cure her. I shall not even try. Tell her so.”