OXENHAM (_abruptly_). Here comes the canoe, like a regiment of men in single file. What a length of side! and made out of a single trunks. MOON. It would puzzle a fellow like me, with only a little arithmetic, to count them. Lord! it shoots like an arrow. As we speak it is at the bank. Hurrah! there is our friend Chiruca in the bow. He is now you see an Indian Chief, and waves his eagle plume to us. _The canoe with the Indians arrives_, _loaded with fruits and other provisions_, _and drinks of the country_. DRAKE. Brave Chiruca, welcome! (_they embrace_) CHIRUCA. Welcome to the land of our fathers, noble Drake. (_He points to his companions_.) These are the sons of Caciques, who have come to welcome you; the Chiefs who will gather round you; the valiant of their tribes (_they prostrate themselves before_ DRAKE, _who by the instruction of_ CHIRUCA _raises and embraces them_). OXENHAM (_to_ DRAKE _aside_). This is the best move yet, General. We are now at the very throat of Spain. I have long had this in my eye, and kept it to myself. Make a nation of these Symerons, but the gold and pearls first. DRAKE. I can see farther, John. I mean to ascend the heights and behold the other ocean—what Spain is doing. The source of all her wealth lies there. _Indians_, _loaded with provisions_, _proceed up the precipitous rock at the side_; _others armed with lances and bows mingle with the English_, _and prepare to accompany them_. CHIRUCA _approaches_ DRAKE. CHIRUCA. Friend Drake! We wait for you; the sun is above the mountains, and warns us that time passes (DRAKE _takes him by the arm and points forward_). DRAKE. On then, Chiruca. Looking at these precipitous rocks—those tangled forests—those foaming cataracts—the stern outline of that high Sierra—the task would seem hopeless. CHIRUCA. Gold and silver, in loads, traverse these heights on mules and llamas. We will show you the Recoes and their Spanish escort. With your men of iron, we shall make short work of the guard, and carry off the treasure. We will ambuscade them for you, and mow them down with poisoned arrows. You shall see them fly, as from a pestilence, or the scourge of the evil one. DRAKE. Lead on. CHIRUCA. This is the way. Follow me. _The Indians bound up the face of the rock and disappear under the hanging shrubs_. MOON. That’s what I call a flying leap. Body o’ me! They’re birds or antilopes—not men. DRAKE (_he calls up to_ CHIRUCA). Call you this a path? To get up there would require the wings of one of those Condors that have scented death from the Sierra, and are sailing over our heads, ready to pick our bones, should we break our necks.