From the black turban of wool that he wore he saw that his veins did not boast of the blood of the Sacred Race, so he saluted him with more friendliness than deference and, straightway forgetting or ignoring his master’s orders, told him that the men in shining clothing were the long-promised sons of Viracocha, who had come into the land by command of their Father to give it peace, and that as they only spoke the speech of the gods heard only in the Mansions of the Sun, he, Filipillo, had been endowed by the god with the power of this speech so that he might speak for the celestial messengers, and make plain their intentions to his children. All of which the Indian heard gravely enough, bowing his head every time the name of the god was mentioned, and when he had answered the questions which followed Filipillo went back to his master and made his report. “The town and valley are called Zaran, Lord. It is a strong place and one that guards the approach from this wilderness and the coast beyond to the roads which lead over very great and high mountains to the heart of El-Dorado itself. But now there are but a few soldiers in the town, not more than a score or so, for the Inca Atahuallpa has drawn all the fighting-men from these regions to swell his armies, so that the way is open to my Lord, and if my Lord will follow, the man yonder whom I spoke to will go before with me and lead you to the causeway by which the river is crossed.” “That is well, go thou with him,” said Pizarro; “we follow. Keep thine eyes open and be ready to run back to me at need.” Then the column moved forward again, preceded at about twenty paces by Filipillo and the native, to whom he was talking constantly. They were guided along the edge of the scrub towards the valley, and then a straight, narrow path opened out. This led them through the thicket and a broad belt of trees and then between level fields, well watered by little channels lined with stone, and when they had passed through these the welcome sight of a broad, shallow river rippling smoothly between its green, shady banks cheered their eyes, so long dazzled by the stones and sand, and set their horses whinnying with delight. From the end of the path a broad, straight causeway of stone, pierced by wide, square openings, ran from shore to shore, and at the end of this Pizarro halted his troop so that men and beasts might slake their thirst. But the Fray Valverde’s mule, with the headstrong self-will of its kind, waited neither for halt nor order, and carried the cleric with unseemly haste through the breaking ranks and waded out till it was knee deep in the water, where, after striving vainly to drink, it looked round at its master and brayed angrily, saying as plain as speech of mule could say it: “I have thirsted all day for you, now take the bit out of my mouth that I may drink.”