Argue the matter as he would, the young man saw no hope. Garcia’s victory over the Federal troops at Cuzco had given the district into the hands of the Indians. The Spanish population, only an eighth of the 50,000 souls in the ancient city, had fled. Never since the Spanish Con5 quest had the Quichuas so completely been the masters. Garcia himself had prudently6 left the town, waiting for the end of the Interaymi; and the few troops he had left behind him were heart and soul with the native population, from which they had been levied7, and with which they shared customs, faith and fetichism. In a word, the Cuzco was as much the home of the Incas as it had been in the heyday8 of their despotic rulers.
When Dick and his companions had reached the outskirts9 of the city they had hidden their | motor in a half-deserted country inn, bribing10 the landlord. They had at once realized that force was out of the question. Happily, there remained Garcia’s money. The landlord, a poor half-breed who asked no better than to become rich, had listened readily, and the offer of a small fortune had set him off looking for Red Ponchos11 willing to betray Huascar.
He found four, the very men who were to be the Guards of the Sacrifice, in the House of the Serpent. When these men had explained their functions, the four Europeans could hardly believe their good fortune. Dick and Don Chris-tobal were so absorRed by the idea of getting through to the prisoners somehow, that they did not stop to think how suspiciously easy their task had been. Uncle Francis, a witness of the bargain, was for once not altogether wrong when he shrugged12 his shoulders at their childish scheme to “take him in.”
The Red Ponchos agreed to everything, and the price was fixed13, and they received half-payment. The remainder was to be handed over when the Marquis’ children were free. The traitors14 promised to help them escape from the sacred precincts, and moreover brought them their disguises.
Uncle Francis, chuckling15 covertly16, accepted the part assigned to him with such readiness, showed such quiet courage in his attitude, that he reconquered at one stroke the lost esteem17 of both the Marquis and his nephew. Natividad, ever ready to believe anything to the discredit18 of an Indian, and knowing from experience how easily they were to be bought, was quite confident in the success of the expedition.
Thoroughly19 fooled by Huascar, they had walked into the trap, and only amazing luck had saved one of them. Where were the others now? Where was the dungeon20 that held them, and what was to be their fate?
Dick was waiting in the dark street before the palace, determined21 to shoot Huascar when he saw him. All night through, nobody came out of the House of the Serpent. At dawn, the young engineer suddenly felt a hand on his arm, and, looking up, recognized the old man to whom he had spoken at Arequipa, the father of Maria Cristina de Orellana.
“Why do you stop here?” asked the stranger. “You won’t see the procession if you do. Follow me, and I’ll show you my daughter coming out of the Corridor of Night.”
Dick stared at him. Groups of Indians were passing, all heading in the same direction. The old man spoke22 again.
“You may as well go with them. They are all off to see the procession of the Bride of the Sun.”
Dick followed him mechanically. Why not, after all? He was nearly mad himself. Why should a madman not be his guide? As they walked, Orellana babbled23 on tonelessly.
“I know you well. You want to see the Bride of the Sun. I see you have even disguised yourself as an Indian to do so. Not in the least necessary, I assure you. You’ll see her, right enough, if you come with me. I know Cusco, below ground and above ground, better than any living man. I have lived in their secret passages for ten years. When I am not under ground, I guide strangers through the city, and show them where the Bride of the Sun used to pass on her way to the Temple of Death. You know that, of course? It’s the same as the Temple of the Sun, only underneath25. I’ll show it you, for it’s worth seeing.
“Fine fêtes this year, se?or. Last time, they had to hide themselves in the Corridors of Night, but to-day they are masters both above and below, and that dead king of theirs, Huayna Capac, will see daylight again. They’ll take him all through the city, as they used to do. If you don’t know that, you haven’t been keeping your ears open.
“Where are your friends? I could have shown it to them as well. And I don’t charge much; a few centavos keep me going for weeks. All the innkeepers know me, and send for Orellana when they have visitors. I know you all quite Well. I saw you at Mollendo, then at Arequipa, and now here you are again outside the House of the Serpent. That’s where they always go first. Yes, that’s the way they brought Maria Cristina ten years ago. She was the prettiest girl in Lima, so they chose her for their god. I didn’t know then, but this time they won’t have their way quite so easily. When I saw the Interaymi come round again, I said to myself: ‘Orellana, you must get ready for them.’ And I’m ready for them, never fear!”
Thus they crossed the whole city. Dick, walking like a man in a dream, following to the next station in the martyrdom of his sweetheart, paid no heed26 to the wonderful ruins on all sides of him, the mighty27 buildings piled rock on rock by demi-gods, and which have not moved, nor will move until the earth dies, long after the winds of heaven and the quivering of the mountains have stamped flat the miserable28 huts left by the Conquistadors.
They left the city behind them and Orellana, taking Dick by the hand, like a little child, made him climb the mount which the Quichuas call the Hill of the Dancing Monkey. Its gigantic summit, hewn into terraces, galleries and giant stairways by long-dead craftsmen29, was already I crowned with Indians. All eyes were turned toward that other miracle of Inca work which is Sacsay-Huaynam, a hill of stone fashioned into a Cyclopean fortress30, with three lines of defenses rising one above the other, each wall dotted with niches31 from which on this day, as of yore, armed sentries32 looked out over the country. On the summit of Sacsay-Huaynam towered the Intihuatana, or “the pillar on which the sun is bound.”
Orellana’s broken voice explained it all to Dick, guide-like.
“This pillar, se?or, was used by the Incas to measure time. A religious stone, erected33 to mark the exact period of the equinoxes. That is why they call it Intihuatana; it means where the sun is bound.’ Look over there! You can see the procession starting.... Don’t you understand? The Corridors of Night run right under the city, from the House of the Serpent to Sacsay-Huaynam. When my daughter comes out, they will take her round the hill, and round the Intihuatana. Then, when the Sun has been freed by the High-Priest, the procession will come down to the gates of the city.”
Dick could now clearly see the procession forming up on the walls, and even distinguished34 Huascar at its head, giving orders. Leaving Orellana, he hurried toward Sacsay-Huaynam, getting as near as the press of Indians would allow. He could now see that the solstice pillar, placed in the center of a circle, was loaded with festoons of flowers and fruit, while on its summit stood a golden throne. The throne of the Sun, vanished centuries before, had been brought out from the Corridors of Night and replaced there before the dawn.
There was silence on Sacsay-Huaynam; a few priests were grouped round the Pillar, waiting for the hour of noon. Then Huascar appeared, clad in golden vestments. Facing the throne of the Sun, the High-Priest waited a few seconds, turned and cried aloud in A?mara a phrase which was taken up on all sides in Quichua and Spanish:—“The god is seated on the Column in all his light!” Then he struck his hands together, giving the signal for all to march; the god, having visited his people, had been freed, and continued his voyage through the heavens. The faithful followed him on earth, from east to west.
The sacred procession sprang into life, led by Huascar. First came a hundred servitors of the god, simply dressed, whose task it was to clear the way, chanting paeans35 of triumph. After them, a group of men in chequer-board tunics36 of red-and-white, whom the populace greeted with shouts of “The amautas! The amautas!” (the sages24). Then others all in white, bearing hammers and maces of silver and copper37, who were the apparitors of the royal palace; the guards and the Inca’s body attendants, their azure38 robes blazing with precious metals; finally, the nobles, with heavy ear-rings marking their rank. The procession wound slowly down from Sacsay-Huaynam to the plain, and then the double throne, borne on the shoulders of the noblest among the Indians, appeared to the multitude. Thousands of throats greeted the dead king and his living companion; a roar of mingled39 enthusiasm for the descendant of Manco Capac, and hatred40 for the conquering race, translated by deafening41 shouts of “Muera la Coya! Muera la Coya!”
Maria-Teresa seemed to hear nothing; pale as marble and beautiful as a statue, she passed unheeding, little Christobal still in her arms. Instead of the bat-skin robes, they now wore vicuna tunics, sheer as silk. Behind them walked the two mammaconas who were to die, their faces veiled with black; the other women and the three Guardians42 of the Temple had disappeared. The cortège was brought up by a company of Quichua soldiers in modern uniform, rifle on shoulder, tramping to the lilt of the quenia-players, who closed the march.
The contrast between this antique procession and that fragment of a modern army was more than curious. Uncle Francis, the only one who could have really appreciated it under the circumstances, was not there. As to Dick, he was watching Maria-Teresa with the fixed gaze of a madman. Strive as he would, he could get no nearer, and so backed out of the press to run toward the gates of the city, where he hoped to fight his way to the front ranks.
On the last steps of the Hill of the Dancing Monkey he was immobilized by the press of people and forced to look with them to the summit of Sacsay-Huaynam, where, on the top of the highest tower, had appeared the scarlet43 figure of a priest, sharp-cut against the azure of the sky.
Dick at once recognized the Preacher of Cajamarca, and voices around him further explained that this was the chief officer of the quipucamyas, or Keepers of the Historical Word. His voice, sweeping44 down from Sacsay-Huaynam, checked the advance of the procession, chanted the glory of by-gone days.
Ringing clear and impassioned, it recalled the day when the Stranger and his diabolical45 train had first entered those plains after the death of Atahualpa. As to-day, the Sun blazed over the Imperial City, then full of altars sacred to his cult46. Then, innumerable buildings, which the conqueror47 was to leave in ruins, traced white streets in the heart of the valley, and clustered on the lower slopes of the hills. In the conqueror’s train was Manco, descendant of kings, in whose name he gave orders and was obeyed. On that day, when the sun went down behind the Cordilleras, it might well have been thought that the Empire of the Incas had ceased to exist.
“But it still lives!” thundered the voice. “The Sun still shines on his children; the Andes, cradle of our race, still tower to the skies; Cuzco, navel of the earth, still quivers at the voice of his priests; Sacsay-Huaynam and the Intihuatana are still standing48; the procession of the Interaymi still starts from these sacred walls!”
At these words, the procession moved on again, and had it not been for the anachronism of the riflemen bringing up the rear, one could almost have believed that five hundred years had brought no change in the plains of the Cuzco.
Dick, Anally free to move on, was despairing of ever getting nearer to Maria-Teresa when he met Orellana again.
“What are you looking for?” asked the old man. “A place to see from? Then come with me, and I’ll show you my daughter. I know Cuzco better than the Incas themselves. Come with me.”
Once again Dick allowed the madman to be his guide. They reentered the city by way of the Huatanay ravine, spanned to this day by the Conquistadors’ bridges, and entered a maze49 of side-streets free from the crowd. Skirting the prodigious50 Hatun Rumioc, or wall-which-is-of-one-rock, they passed Calcaurpata, which tradition makes the palace of Manco Capac himself, first King of the Incas and founder51 of Cuzco; then they turned toward the Plaza52 Principale, called Huàcaypata by the Quichuas of to-day as by the Incas of yore. To reach it, Orellana took Dick through the ruined palace of the Virgins53 of the Sun, detailing, as he went, the uses and names of the various rooms. The young man’s impatient interruptions left him quite unmoved.
“We have plenty of time. You shall see my daughter from so near that you could speak to her. Stop a minute, and listen to the quenias. The head of the procession has no more than reached San Domingo. That church, curiously54 enough, was built on the very foundations of the Temple of the Sun.... I have never met a visitor less curious than you are.... This is the cloister55 of the Virgins of the Sun.... It has always been the home of virtue56 and piety57, for the Christians58 turned it into a convent under the auspices59 of Santa Catarina.”
Dick, unable to stand the guide’s jargon60 any longer, began to run toward the noise of the advancing procession.
“You might pay me!” shouted Orellana in his wake. “Pay me what you owe me!” and stooped to pick up the centavos which the young engineer threw on the ground.
Nearing the plaza principale, Dick again found his way blocked by the crowd, and forgot his anger in the relief of finding a friend when Orellana tugged61 at his poncho again.
“You might as well stop with me,” urged the old man. “Hurrying won’t help you. I know a little tiny Corridor of Night that will lead us to the Sun, right to the top stone of one of those temples.... It’s a temple dedicated62 to Venus.... They call her Chasca, or the young man with the long and curly locks, and he’s supposed to be the page of the Sun. Come with me.” Orellana had taken Dick by the hand, and led him to a cellar, in which they found the foot of a harrow staircase. Once at the top of it, they were, as the old man had promised, on the summit of a ruined temple, dominating the crowded square below and the streets radiating to it like the spokes63 of a wheel to the huh. Around them were other ruins; temples sacred to the moon, to the “armies of the heavens,” which are the stars, to the rainbow, lightning and thunder... walls which still defied the elements, though the temples were now shops, work-rooms or stables.
The head of the procession had appeared, the hundred servitors of the god pressing back the crowd, and slowly wound its way round the square. Then the golden litter came into sight and Huayna Capac, for the first time in centuries, came to the center of the world, the Umbilicus of which he had been lord and master. All heads were bowed before this sovereign shadow and the memory of ancient glories once again brought to life. The crowd even forgot for the moment its hatred of the stranger woman, the motionless Coya with the stranger child in her arms.
The double throne was brought to the center of the square, and the crowd rose with clamoring voices. Around the litter, the caciques and the chiefs, the nobles and the amautas, who are the sages, joined hands and began to circle, dancing as they danced of yore, when each man held a link of the golden chain and danced the Dance of the Chain. Hands made the links to-day, for when the Strangers slew64 Atahualpa, the nobles of the Cuzco threw that chain, which otherwise would have gone to the King’s ransom65, into the deepest water of Lake Titicaca.
“Recuerda!”
Suddenly, as if from the heavens, this cry checked the rhythm of the Dance of the Chain. Maria-Teresa started on her throne, remembering the signal in the House of the Serpent. The child in her arms also lifted its head, and their eyes questioned the blue vault66 above from which this word of hope had fallen.
“That was Dick’s voice, Maria-Teresa! I told you he would come to save us!”
The girl’s eyes explored the towering walls about her, black with Indians. How could she recognize him in that crowd? Where was he? Again the voice rang out over their heads, so loud that it could be heard by the most distant | unit of the crowd.
“Recuerda!”
Every head was turned upwards67, and a threatening murmur68 rose from that human mass, torn from its dream of renascence and liberty by a single Spanish word. Recuerda! What must they remember? That they were slaves? That these fêtes, striving to recall an abolished past, could only last the space of a day? That the sun of to-morrow, forgetting that of to-day, would only shine anew on their servitude?
Maria-Teresa started up from the golden throne with the child in her arms, brought to life and action again by the beloved voice.
Looking higher, they at last saw, on the highest stone in the azure, a pigmy figure holding out its arms to the Coya, and crying, “Maria-Teresa! Maria-Teresa!”
“Dick!”
Then all understood that on high there was a stranger, one of the hated race, come to rob them of the soul of their Coya.
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1
crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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niche
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| n.壁龛；合适的职务(环境、位置等) | |
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poncho
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| n.斗篷，雨衣 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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con
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| n.反对的观点，反对者，反对票，肺病；vt.精读，学习，默记；adv.反对地，从反面；adj.欺诈的 | |
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prudently
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| adv. 谨慎地，慎重地 | |
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levied
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| 征（兵）( levy的过去式和过去分词 )； 索取； 发动（战争）； 征税 | |
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heyday
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| n.全盛时期，青春期 | |
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outskirts
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| n.郊外，郊区 | |
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bribing
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| 贿赂 | |
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ponchos
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| n.斗篷( poncho的名词复数 ) | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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traitors
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| 卖国贼( traitor的名词复数 )； 叛徒； 背叛者； 背信弃义的人 | |
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chuckling
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的现在分词 ) | |
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covertly
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| adv.偷偷摸摸地 | |
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esteem
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| n.尊敬，尊重；vt.尊重，敬重；把…看作 | |
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discredit
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| vt.使不可置信；n.丧失信义；不信，怀疑 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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dungeon
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| n.地牢，土牢 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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23
babbled
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| v.喋喋不休( babble的过去式和过去分词 )；作潺潺声（如流水）；含糊不清地说话；泄漏秘密 | |
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sages
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| n.圣人( sage的名词复数 )；智者；哲人；鼠尾草（可用作调料） | |
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underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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craftsmen
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| n. 技工 | |
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fortress
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| n.堡垒，防御工事 | |
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niches
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| 壁龛( niche的名词复数 )； 合适的位置[工作等]； （产品的）商机； 生态位（一个生物所占据的生境的最小单位） | |
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sentries
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| 哨兵，步兵( sentry的名词复数 ) | |
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ERECTED
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| adj. 直立的，竖立的，笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立，建立 | |
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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paeans
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| n.赞歌，凯歌( paean的名词复数 ) | |
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tunics
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| n.（动植物的）膜皮( tunic的名词复数 )；束腰宽松外衣；一套制服的短上衣；（天主教主教等穿的）短祭袍 | |
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copper
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| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
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38
azure
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| adj.天蓝色的，蔚蓝色的 | |
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39
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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41
deafening
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| adj. 振耳欲聋的, 极喧闹的 动词deafen的现在分词形式 | |
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guardians
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| 监护人( guardian的名词复数 )； 保护者，维护者 | |
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43
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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44
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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45
diabolical
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| adj.恶魔似的，凶暴的 | |
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46
cult
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| n.异教，邪教；时尚，狂热的崇拜 | |
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47
conqueror
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| n.征服者，胜利者 | |
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48
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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maze
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| n.迷宫，八阵图，混乱，迷惑 | |
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50
prodigious
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| adj.惊人的，奇妙的；异常的；巨大的；庞大的 | |
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51
Founder
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| n.创始者，缔造者 | |
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52
plaza
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| n.广场，市场 | |
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53
virgins
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| 处女，童男( virgin的名词复数 )； 童贞玛利亚（耶稣之母） | |
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54
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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55
cloister
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| n.修道院；v.隐退，使与世隔绝 | |
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56
virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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57
piety
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| n.虔诚，虔敬 | |
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58
Christians
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| n.基督教徒( Christian的名词复数 ) | |
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auspices
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| n.资助，赞助 | |
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60
jargon
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| n.术语，行话 | |
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61
tugged
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| v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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dedicated
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| adj.一心一意的；献身的；热诚的 | |
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63
spokes
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| n.（车轮的）辐条( spoke的名词复数 )；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 | |
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64
slew
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| v.（使）旋转；n.大量，许多 | |
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ransom
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| n.赎金，赎身；v.赎回，解救 | |
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66
vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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