Now I was at the bow of the balsa and Quilla was at its stern, and between us were the others, so that during all that long night’s journey I had no speech with her and must content myself with gazing over my shoulder at her beauty as best I could, which was not well, because of Kari, who ever seemed to come between my eyes and hers.

Thus the long hours went by till at length when we were near the land the moon sank, and we sailed on through the twilight.  Then came the dawn, and there in front of us we saw the lovely strand green with palms within a ring of snow-clad mountains, two of them the great peaks that we had seen from our isle.

On the shore was a city of white, flat-roofed houses, and rising above it, perchance the half of a mile from the sea, a hill four or five hundred feet in height and terraced.  On the top of the hill stood a mighty building, painted red, that from the look of it I took to be one of the churches of these people, in the centre of which gleamed great doors that, as I found afterwards, were covered with plates of gold.

“Behold the temple of Pachacamac, Master,” whispered Kari, bowing his head and kissing the air in token of reverence.

By this time watchmen, who had been set there to search the sea or the boat of Quilla, had noted our approach.  They shouted and pointed to me who sat in the prow clad in my armour upon which the sun glittered, then began to run to and fro as though in fear or excitement, so that ere we reached the shore a great crowd had gathered.  Meanwhile, Quilla had put on her silver-broidered mantle and her head-dress of feathers, crowned with the crescent of the moon.  As we touched the beach she came forward, and for the first time during that night spoke to me saying: 

“Remain here in the balsa, Lord, while I talk with these people, and when I summon you be pleased to come.  Fear not—­none will harm you.”

Then she sprang from the prow of the balsa to the shore, followed by her two maidens, who dragged it further up the beach, and went forward to talk with certain white-robed men in the crowd.  For a long while she talked, turning now and again to point at me.  At length these men, accompanied by a number of others, ran forward.  At first I thought they meant mischief and grasped my sword-hilt, then, remembering what Quilla had said, remained seated and silent.

Indeed, there was no cause for fear, for when the white-robed chiefs or priests and their following were close to me, suddenly they prostrated themselves and beat their heads upon the sand, from which I learned that they, too, believed me to be a god.  Thereon I bowed to them and, drawing my sword—­at the sight of which I saw them stare and shiver, for to these people steel was unknown—­held it straight up in front of me in my right hand, the shield with the cognizance of the three arrows being on my left arm.