“That is sound advice,” said ben-Alcazar, “and yet to me there seems but little need for suspicion, whatever there may be for due caution, for never did I see or hear of so strange a people as this. Methinks even the holy father himself might take a few lessons worth the learning from them or some of their priests, whatever their creed may be, in the matter of Christian charity, and especially that doctrine which tells him who is smitten on one cheek to turn the other to his enemy, for surely never did a people give good for evil as these poor folk have done to us.” “There spoke the old infidel blood in thee, ben-Alcazar!” said de Soto, with a laugh that he would not have let into his voice had the Fray Valverde been within hearing. “But come, let us onward. I would rather rest to-night in another of those fair valleys than up here among these chilly mountains.” So they got back into their litters and the bearers lifted the long, pliant, silver-shod poles to their shoulders, and once more they started off southward at the easy, swinging trot which, after their labours on horseback and afoot over the mountains from the sea, seemed in truth the very luxury of locomotion. Thus they went on, making the most marvellous journey that men of their race had ever made in the world, for the space of eight days. Down between the two vast ranges towering far into the sky on either hand they went, ever at the same swift, rhythmic pace. Some of the mountains were huge, bald rounded domes of brown rock, some tapered up into pointed pyramids, and others were broken into clusters of fantastic shape. Others, again, as they went southward, towered up above the nearer ranges, far-off pinnacles of ice and domes of snow ever rising higher and higher and coming nearer and nearer; but the lower slopes, walling in the valleys through which they travelled, were green with verdure or golden with rustling maize, and cut out into countless terraces, each one of which was as carefully tended as a garden. On the bleaker uplands they could see vast flocks of llamas, the only beast of burden which this strange people possessed, and smaller herds of vicuñas, which yielded the wool that was spun into textures as fine and soft as silk. Each night they were lodged in the tambos, or rest-houses, welcomed with a silent, stately deference which showed them that their entertainers held no ordinary rank in the land of the Inca, and their fare was such as might have been offered to princes. Indeed, such sumptuous treatment did they receive that, as Alonso de Molina said towards the end of the journey, there seemed to be something of shame in taking it all as they did from the hands of one who had suffered such treatment from them as Atahuallpa had.