One thing remained; to invite their Indian friends to join them.  And that was done in due form the next day.

Ayacanora was consulted, of course, and by the Piache, too, who was glad enough to be rid of the rival preacher, and his unpleasantly good news that men need not worship the devil, because there was a good God above them.  The maiden sang most melodious assent; the whole tribe echoed it; and all went smoothly enough till the old cacique observed that before starting a compact should be made between the allies as to their share of the booty.

Nothing could be more reasonable; and Amyas asked him to name his terms.

“You take the gold, and we will take the prisoners.”

“And what will you do with them?” asked Amyas, who recollected poor John Oxenham’s hapless compact made in like case.

“Eat them,” quoth the cacique, innocently enough.

Amyas whistled.

“Humph!” said Cary.  “The old proverb comes true—­’the more the merrier:  but the fewer the better fare.’  I think we will do without our red friends for this time.”

Ayacanora, who had been preaching war like a very Boadicea, was much vexed.

“Do you too want to dine off roast Spaniards?” asked Amyas.

She shook her head, and denied the imputation with much disgust.

Amyas was relieved; he had shrunk from joining the thought of so fair a creature, however degraded, with the horrors of cannibalism.

But the cacique was a man of business, and held out stanchly.

“Is it fair?” he asked.  “The white man loves gold, and he gets it.  The poor Indian, what use is gold to him?  He only wants something to eat, and he must eat his enemies.  What else will pay him for going so far through the forests hungry and thirsty?  You will get all, and the Omaguas will get nothing.”

The argument was unanswerable; and the next day they started without the Indians, while John Brimblecombe heaved many an honest sigh at leaving them to darkness, the devil, and the holy trumpet.

And Ayacanora?

When their departure was determined, she shut herself up in her hut, and appeared no more.  Great was the weeping, howling, and leave-taking on the part of the simple Indians, and loud the entreaties to come again, bring them a message from Amalivaca’s daughter beyond the seas, and help them to recover their lost land of Papamene; but Ayacanora took no part in them; and Amyas left her, wondering at her absence, but joyful and light-hearted at having escaped the rocks of the Sirens, and being at work once more.

CHAPTER XXV

HOW THEY TOOK THE GOLD-TRAIN

“God will relent, and quit thee all thy debt,
Who ever more approves, and more accepts
Him who imploring mercy sues for life,
Than who self-rigorous chooses death as due,
Which argues over-just, and self-displeased
For self-offence, more than for God offended.”