"Nay, stew me! a fly would not venture to kick out here," answered Pedro, with feeling. "Seize his tail!" She did so, and with many a piteous whine and gasp, was at length across the abyss. *CHAPTER XXX* _*An Encounter on the Plain of Chita*_ Within a few days after the passage of the Apurimac Matopo crossed, by a rapid night march, the plateau of Chita, not many leagues from Cuzco. He moved with caution, and halted, near morning, at the eastern edge of the plain, awaiting daylight before the descent into the valley of the Urubamba where lay Ollantaytambo, the rendezvous of the Inca’s forces and his objective. The column moved at sunrise. Below, a full mile almost straight down, spread the floor of the valley. The road was a masterpiece of engineering. At points it was hewn out of the solid rock; at others, supported by masonry; but everywhere of even breadth and gradient, and smoothly paved. Cristoval soon had a view of a distant town which Matopo said was Urubamba, clinging to the lower slopes of the opposite mountains, and near it the palace of Yucay, faintly visible. He saw it with a heart-throb, for here might be Rava. Upon reaching the plain the command went into bivouac. Three days of forced marches had been exhausting, and at the earliest moment possible Cristoval disarmed, stretched himself upon his cloak under a terrace wall, and was soon asleep. He was roused by a Conibo. The sun, far past the meridian, apprised him that he had slept long. "Viracocha," said the soldier, as the cavalier sat up, "the general would see you at once." Cristoval noticed the man’s perturbation, and gathered up his cloak to follow. He saw signs of unusual agitation among the Conibos, and that the few still sleeping were being roused. Those awake were gathered in knots, some conversing excitedly, but most were standing about, silent and profoundly depressed. Those he passed glanced at him darkly and turned away, some with muttered words which he could not hear. The cavalier, though wondering, was little disturbed; but he grew more concerned at the gloom and gravity of Matopo and his assembled officers. As he drew near he saw several nobles in the group quite unknown to him, who had apparently just arrived. "_Diós_! Something hath gone awry," he said to himself, and hurried his steps. Matopo said abruptly, "Viracocha, the Inca hath been made a prisoner." Cristoval stopped, thunderstruck, and looked about the grim-faced circle. For a moment he was speechless, then demanded sharply: "A prisoner, sayst thou! Where is he a prisoner? Who hath made him prisoner?" "Ah, who!" returned Matopo, fiercely. "Who but the Viracochas? He is in the Sachsahuaman. He was taken on his way to Ollantaytambo. The Auqui Paullo, the Ñustas, and most of his household are held in the palace at Cuzco, with—"