Scarcely were we arranged when from the dip beyond the open space appeared heralds who carried spears and were fantastically dressed.  These shouted that the Inca Upanqui, the Child of the Sun, the god who ruled the earth, drew near.

“Let him approach!” said Huaracha briefly, and they departed.

Awhile later there arose a sound of barbarous music and of chanting and from the dip below emerged a glittering litter borne upon the shoulders of richly clothed men all of whom, I was told afterwards, were princes by blood, and surrounded by beautiful women who carried jewelled fans, and by councillors.  It was the litter of the Inca Upanqui, and after it marched a guard of picked warriors, perhaps there were a hundred of them, not more.

The litter was set down in front of the throne; gilded curtains were drawn and out of it came a man whose attire dazzled the eyes.  It seemed to consist of gold and precious stones sewn on to a mantle of crimson wool.  He wore a head-dress also of as many colours as Joseph’s coat, surmounted by two feathers, which he alone might bear, from which head-dress a scarlet fringe that was made of tasselled wool hung down upon his forehead.  This was the Inca’s crown, even to touch which was death, and its name was Lautu.  He was a very old man for his white locks and beard hung down upon his splendid garments and he supported himself upon his royal staff that was headed by a great emerald.  His fine-cut face also, though still kingly, was weak with age and his eyes were blear.  At the sight of him all rose and Huaracha descended from his throne, saying in a loud voice: 

“Welcome to the land of the Chancas, O Upanqui, Inca of the Quichuas.”

The old monarch eyed him for a moment, then answered in a thin voice: 

“Greeting to Huaracha, Curaca of the Chancas.”

Huaracha bowed and said: 

“I thank you, but here among my own people my title is not Curaca, but King, O Inca.”

Upanqui drew himself up to his full height and replied: 

“The Incas know no kings throughout the land of Tavantinsuyu save themselves, O Huaracha.”

“Be it so, O Inca; yet the Chancas, who are unconquered, know a king, and I am he.  I pray you be seated, O Inca.”

Upanqui stood still for a moment frowning, and, as I thought, was about to make some short answer, when suddenly his glance fell upon me and changed the current of his mind.

“Is that the White-god-from-the-Sea?” he asked, with an almost childish curiosity.  “I heard that he was here, and to tell the truth that is why I came, just to look at him, not to bandy words with you, O Huaracha, who they say can only be talked to with a spear point.  What a red beard he has and how his coat shines.  Let him come and worship me.”

“He will come, but I do not think that he will worship.  They say he is a god himself, O Inca.”