The meeting between the Spanish conquistadors and the last of the great Incas was surely one of the most remarkable in history, resembling somewhat the splendours of the Field of the Cloth of Gold. On the surface at least, amity prevailed on both sides, Pizarro being lavish in his professions of good intentions, and Atahualpa child-like in his belief of them. [Illustration: A LLAMA IN GOLD, MADE BY THE INCAS.] The Inca king was carried to the meeting-place on a throne or couch adorned with plumes of various colours, and almost covered with plates of gold and silver embellished with precious stones. Following him were the chief officers of his court carried in a similar manner, singers and dancers accompanying the procession, whilst the plain was covered with countless troops. Pizarro could make no such gorgeous display, being attended merely by a small band of soldiers and a priest. As always, this latter accompanied the Spanish adventurers to furnish a religious excuse for any excesses that might be deemed necessary. As the royal procession approached, the priest, Valverde by name, holding a crucifix in one hand and a breviary in the other, called upon the Inca to embrace the Christian faith, which he expounded at some length, and to acknowledge as his lawful sovereign the King of Castile, to whom the Pope, God’s viceregent on earth, had granted all the regions of the New World. Little understanding the badly translated harangue, the monarch indignantly refused to comply with the impudent demand, and this was the cue for one of the most remarkable exploits that even Pizarro ever carried out. The signal was given to fire, and for the first time in their existence the Peruvians were made acquainted with the deadly effect of firearms. In this unprovoked attack, more than four thousand of them were slain, and Atahualpa, rudely dragged from his throne by Pizarro’s own hand, was cast into prison. Although bent on the Inca’s destruction, Pizarro for a time, played with him with catlike cruelty. When there came a talk of liberty, Atahualpa offered to fill the room in which he was confined with vessels of gold as high as he could reach, provided he were allowed to go free. Pizarro jumped at so tempting a bargain, and the treasure was duly delivered, but the Inca was not given his liberty, and eventually the Spaniard had him strangled. Many pretexts were given for the crime, one being that he had ordered the death of his brother Huascar; another that he kept a great many concubines! But neither of these reasons nor any of the others cited revealed the dark motive in Pizarro’s soul. He was astute enough to perceive that so long as there was a single Inca alive a superstitious reverence would cling round his personality, and the domination of Spain would never be secure.