“Did he tell you to say that?” Stanley asked. “He did. You will come at once. The king waits on no man.” “I thought so. It sounds like him. Tell Quizquiz, Inca, and biggest coward that ever lived that we are ready to fight at any time he desires.” “You dare be insolent! You shall pay for this,” the officer retorted. “Come with me at once.” “Suppose we refuse?” “Refuse the king’s command?” incredulously. “Why not? He is nothing to us.” “Then you will be carried forcibly.” “Not a bad idea. Being carried is better than walking. The king rides from place to place, so why not we?” At a word of command from their leader the soldiers seized the two, raised them to their shoulders and passed quickly out of the tent. An encampment of great size had sprung up on the level floor of the valley. It was well laid out. The tents were placed in straight rows with wide streets between them, and there seemed to be armed guards and soldiers everywhere. The Inca’s quarters, covering a large plot of ground, were easily distinguishable on account of the brilliantly colored tapestries that adorned the sides of the tents. In the rear was a spacious courtyard, and it was there that the monarch awaited them, sitting in a raised chair covered with a silky brown vicuna robe. His nobles and amautas, or wise men, formed groups on each side. In front was a double row of soldiers with spears held in a horizontal position, the points outward, similar to the “on guard” position of bayonet drill. The prisoners were brought close to the rows of spear-points and unceremoniously deposited on the ground. Quizquiz cast one scornful, triumphant glance in their direction, but without one word to them turned and addressed the officials at his sides.