They rode past the guardian fortress, scanning it closely and listening intently without seeing the glint of a weapon or hearing anything but the wash of the river behind them. As they rounded the angle the ground became rougher, and presently they came to a very narrow place where there was nothing but a steep, rugged footway leading close under an ancient and seemingly tottering fortress wall, and fenced in on the other side by the fast-flowing river. Beyond this they came to another bend in the river, and here the valley widened out again, leaving a broad and fairly level plain of some considerable size on either side of the stream. This plain was completely walled in on all sides, save the one on which they had entered it, with tiered fortresses built into the rocky mountain-sides, and as they came in sight of it Asterre pointed ahead with his sword and said to de Molina-- “Ha! yonder they are at last, Señor! And this is the death-trap in which they would fain give us battle.” De Molina looked ahead as he rounded the point and saw the whole of the upper end of the valley covered with glittering ranks of silent warriors, conspicuous in the midst of whom were the figures of Manco and Ruminavi mounted on their Spanish war-horses and clad in their shining Spanish mail. “A goodly array and well posted, friend Manco!” he exclaimed, “yet if you do but bring it out to fight us on the plain the end will not be long in doubt.” “It is not the fight, Señor,” said Asterre, “but rather the getting back after it that looks the worst to my eyes. If they give us battle here it will be but as a feint. They will entangle us here with their multitudes. Yonder fortresses are unscaleable for us who have no ladders. The horses cannot work among those rock-strewn slopes that line the hills, and some time, whether victors or vanquished, we must get back.” “Then let us get back now, good Michael,” said de Molina abruptly. “Those are matters for the commander to decide, not for us.” And with that he turned his horse’s head and led the way back through the narrow path under the fortress wall. Their retreat was watched without a sound or a sign from the hosts of the Inca, which remained under their entrenchments silent, terrible, and portentous. When they reached the main body again de Molina told the commander exactly what they had seen without proffering any advice. “Well, friend Alonso, that is not very good hearing,” said Juan Pizarro when he had finished his description of the valley and the preparations that the Inca had made for their reception in it. “It would seem to me that, unless some miracle like that of Cajamarca happens, we shall discover that our erstwhile guest in Cuzco has invited us to a feast where we shall find the viands somewhat hard of digestion. Hast thou any advice to offer--or let me say rather, what wouldst thou do wert thou in my place?”