“You would be afraid of her, too, and very likely will be before you have done with her.  Nevertheless, you may find favor in her sight, and I have just bethought me of a scheme which, if you consent to adopt it, may not only save our lives, but bring you great honor.”

“And what is that scheme, Gondocori?”

“I will explain it later.  This is no time for talk.  We must push on with all speed or we shall not get to the boats before nightfall.”

“Boats!  You surely don’t mean to say that we are to travel to Pachatupec by boats.  Boats cannot float on a frozen mountain torrent!”

But the cacique, who was already on the march, made no answer.

CHAPTER XXII.

THE CACIQUE’S SCHEME.

Shortly before sunset we arrived at our halting-place for the night and point of departure for the morrow—­a hollow in the hills, hemmed in by high rocks, almost circular in shape and about a quarter of a mile in diameter.  The air was motionless and the temperature mild, the ground covered with grass and shrubs and flowers, over which hovered clouds of bright-winged butterflies.  Low down in the hollow was a still and silent pool, and though, so far as I could make out, it had no exit, two large flat-bottomed boats and a couple of canoes were made fast to the side.  Hard by was a hut of sun-dried bricks, in which were slung three or four grass hammocks.

There was also fuel, so we were able to make a fire and have a good warming, of which we stood greatly in need.  But as nothing in the shape of food could be found, either on the premises or in the neighborhood, we had to go supperless to bed.

Before we turned in Gondocori let us into the secret of the scheme which was to propitiate Queen Mamcuna, and bring us honor and renown, instead of blame and (possibly) death.

“I shall tell her,” said the cacique, “that though I have lost my braves and brought no maidens, I have brought two famous medicine-men, who come from over the seas.”

“Very good.  But how are we to keep up the character?”

“You must profess your ability to heal the sick and read the stars.”

“Nothing easier.  But suppose we are put to the test?  Are there any sick in your country?”

“A few; Mamcuna herself is sick; you have only to cure her and all will be well.”

“Very likely; but how if I fail?”

“Then she would make it unpleasant for all of us.”

“You mean she would roast us by a slow fire?”

“Probably.  There is no telling, though.  Our Great Mother is very ingenious in inventing new punishments, and to those who deceive her she shows no mercy.”

“I understand.  It is a case of kill or cure.”

“Exactly.  If you don’t cure her she will kill you.”

“I will do my best, and as I have seen a good deal of practical surgery, helped to dress wounds and set broken limbs, and can let blood, you may truthfully say that I have some slight knowledge of the healing art.  But as for treating a sick woman—­However, I leave it to you, Gondocori.  If you choose to introduce me to her Majesty as a medicine-man I will act the part to the best of my ability.”