All-Story Weekly, Vol. 112, No. 1 — page 63: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

LAND OF THE SHADOW PEOPLE. “Tt’s a question that I’m going to an- swer before I’m many months older,” de- clared Jim decisively. ‘I’m going to find that girl!” ' “Have you any objections to my telling Kate of your adventure?” his friend asked. * Or perhaps you would prefer to tell her. I take it that you won’t give it public cir- culation.” “ “No, I won’t. But tell Mrs. Jones by all means. For the time it will be between the three af us. I understand that we are going to camp below Huantar this after- noon. If I may have the loan of a guide and a mule, I’m going to take the back trail into the gullies to-night, and see what I can see. Maybe she will visit me again.” By a rugged path, the flooring of which in places consisted of slabs of granite placed there by the Incas themselves, and through a succession of climatic changes almost as marked as those of their ascent of the pre- ceding day, the travelers reached Huantar in mid-afternoon. The town, a collection of mud-walled chozas, nestled at the foot of towering quartzite rocks along the banks of a boisterous ‘mountain stream, the Rio Poccha. Most of the care-free inhabitants of the place were squatted in their miserable little plaza, listening to the plaintive melodies of a wandering Quechua minstrel, who was accompanied by a lad with pan-pipes. Two Huantarian peculiarities presented themselves at once to the eyes of the visi- tors. One was the church, an adobe struc- ture, roofed with shining squares, which at no distant date had formed. the sides of rum- tins. The other was that nearly every second one of the population was afflicted with the malady known as coto, manifested in an immense swelling of the throat which causes it to depend from beneath the chin like the pouch of a pelican. As the town was filthy and odorous, no_ one offered objections. when Don Castro proposed that camp be made a distance below it in the Chavin Valley. Some time after the tents were pitched, the don ap- proached Jones. “If the patron will permit,” he said, “TI will return to the village, and there arrange with the gobernadore, who is an honest man, | to keep until our return the heavy clothing which was necessary to our crossing of El Paso Yanashallas. I have also, the patron permitting, affairs with certain men of Huantar.” Jones acquiesced, though he wondered what “ affairs’ might connect the haughty, little Peruvian with the wretched catosos of thé village. “The Senor Arnold informs me that he wishes to revisit a part of the mountain slope,” continued De Ulloa. ‘“ He will leave with me. The sun is still high. If I might suggest it, the patron and his senora and the senor Kelly would find much of interest in the ancient Castle of Chavin, one of the most famous Casas de los Gentiles in this. region, which is but a short distance.” In his brief association with the Ameri- cans, the don seemed already to have di- vined the status of Grimshaw, and did not include him in the invitation. , As it would be their first view of intact Inca ruins, Jones availed himself of the op- portunity. Thus far the acquaintance of the travelers with the work of the ancients had been confined to specimens of their road-building, and to the blocks of hewn stone used abundantly in the dwellings of the Cholo villages. For the modern Peruvian Indians, while they fear the ghosts of the departed “ Gen- tiles,” as they call them, and will not dig among their graves for fear of incurring their displeasure, have no scruples about disturbing the habitations which they occu; pied while living, and construct huts, and even corrals for cattle, with stones pulled from the antique masonry. ‘“ There can be no danger for the senora,”’ assured Don Castro. ‘I will send with you Tomas and one other who knows the ruins well.” De Ulloa and Amold and his guide de- parted shortly, followed by three or four of the arrieres, who were attracted village- ward by remembrance of a wisp of barley which hung from a pole before the door- way of one of the tiendas, and indicated that native corn-beer was on sale there. For the small outlay of one medio a thirsty man can get a surprisingly large drink of this chicha. comiclboolk C©