When the men who carried the precious burden reached the end of the lane formed by the soldiers they halted and lowered the fitter to the level of their knees. The curtains were drawn aside and an elderly man wrapped in a mantle of black-and-white and wearing numerous amulets, bracelets, and anklets stepped out upon the rug that had been spread on the ground for him and stood with outstretched hands. Apparently he belonged to the religious order, or perhaps he was a witch-doctor, for he made mysterious passes with his hands and shook a rattle of dried seeds. After a moment he came forward a dozen paces, bowed to the ground, and throwing one corner of his mantle over his shoulder in an impressive manner, spoke. “Benevolent spirits, demons or men,” he began in a loud voice, “I know not which you may be, so know not how to receive you.” “And who are you who dares question us?” Stanley returned, pitting his own strategy against the Indian’s. “If you are spirits or demons, you must know that; for I am Villac Umu, one of the obedient servants of the great Inca, and High Priest of the Temple of the Sun. And you?” “We have come from the sky. That is all you shall know until it pleases us to tell you more.” “Yes, yes; even the king saw the great bird swoop into the valley. It filled him with amazement and joy, for might it not be a messenger from heaven with tidings to the greatest of the Incas? If you are brothers of the moon or children of the sun, you may confide in me; the king demands to be told, so that he may prepare to receive you according to your rank.” “Why did not the king come in person?” Stanley abruptly changed the subject. “The king is far away.” “Villac Umu, you dare say that? For all you know we may be able to read your most secret thoughts and to separate the truth from the untruth.” “Then you must know that I speak truly. The king is not here. If he were, you should feel his very presence, though you could not see him. He is great and powerful and so terrible that he is called the Tiger.” “Go back to your people,” Stanley commanded, “and return when I wave my hand like this.” The man bowed and turned without a word. “What do you make of it?” Ted asked when he was out of hearing. “It looks like a plot of some kind.” “Certainly. Quizquiz sent him on a spying mission, to find out who or what we are. He dared not come himself, the coward, but I would bet he is concealed somewhere in the background, at a safe distance. No doubt he connects this occurrence with our previous visit, but does not quite trust his own judgment.” “So much the better. We do not want to see him.” “I will call back the old man and tell him what we need and ask him to send it to us.” “Good! Tell him to come on.” Stanley waved his hand and the waiting figure approached.