“Capitan” Ogo made an impressive bow in the direction of his mud mansion and then another bow to Nux and Bry.

“Come,” he said.

They accepted the invitation and climbed out of the machine.

“Don’t be long, Nux,” I remarked, in the Tayakoo dialect.

Instantly the chief swung around on his heel.

“What does this mean?” he cried, speaking the same language. “Do you receive orders from your white slaves?”

I stared at him open mouthed, but to my intense admiration neither Nux nor Bryonia exhibited the least surprise.

“Orders?” asked Bry, quietly. “Do you blame us that the whites are fools, and speak like fools? My brother has surely more wisdom than that. If you knew the white dogs, you would believe that their tongues are like the tongues of parrots.”

“I know them,” answered Ogo, grimly. Then he asked, abruptly:

“Where did you learn the language of my people—the ancient speech of the Techlas?”

“It is my own language, the speech of my people of Tayakoo, whose chief I am.”

They looked upon each other with evident curiosity, and I examined the two Indians, as they stood side by side, and wondered at their similar characteristics. Bryonia might easily be mistaken for a brother of the San Blas chief, so far as appearances went, and although Nux was of a different build there were many duplicates of him in the silent crowd surrounding us.

“Where is Tayakoo?” asked Ogo.

“Far to the south, in the Pacific ocean.”

“What is the history of your people?”

“I do not know.”

“Are there many of you?”

“But a few, inhabiting a small island.” The chief seemed thoughtful. Then he turned again.

“Come!” he commanded; and they followed him into his house.

Duncan Moit was clearly puzzled by this conversation, carried on in a language unknown to him.

“What is it all about, Sam?” he enquired, in a low voice.

“The Sulus and the San Blas speak the same language,” I replied.

“Anything wrong?”

“No; our chances are better than ever, I guess.”

Fifty pair of eyes were staring at us curiously; so we decided not to converse further at present. We stared in turn at the natives, who seemed not to object in the least.

Without question the San Blas were the best looking Indians I have ever seen. They resembled somewhat the best of the North American tribes, but among them was a larger proportion of intelligence and shrewdness. Their faces were frank and honest, their eyes large and expressive, and they moved in a self-possessed and staid manner that indicated confidence in their own powers and contempt for all enemies.

Their costumes were exceedingly interesting. Men and women alike wore simple robes of finely woven wool that were shaped somewhat like Greek tunics. The arms of the men were bare; the women had short flowing sleeves; and this was the only perceptible difference in the garb of the two sexes, except that most of the men wore sandals of bark, while the women and children were bare-footed.

The tunic was their sole garment, and reached only to the knees, being belted at the waist. The women, I afterward learned, wove the cloth in their houses, as one of their daily occupations, and the body of the tunic was always white, with colored stripes worked in at the neck and around the bottom.

These colors, which must have been vegetable dyes, were very brilliant in hue, including purple, orange, red, blue and yellow. Black was never used at all, and green was the color reserved for the nobles and the king. I noticed that the chief, Ogo, had a narrow band of green on his robe, which explained his proudly proclaiming himself a “green” or royal chief. The bands of green we found varied in width according to the prominence of their wearers.

One can easily imagine that the appearance of an automobile in this country, isolated as it was from all modern civilization, would be likely to inspire the natives with awe and wonder, if not with actual terror. Yet these queer people seemed merely curious, and tried to repress even their curiosity as much as possible. They knew nothing at all of mechanics, existing in the same simple fashion that their ancestors had done centuries before, plowing their land with sharpened sticks and using arrows and spears as their only weapons except for the long bronze knives that were so roughly fashioned as to be well-nigh ridiculous. The only way I can explain the stolid demeanor of these Indians is through their characteristic fearlessness and repression, which enabled them to accept any wonderful thing without displaying emotion.

But they were interested, nevertheless. Their eyes roved everywhere about the machine and only we, the accursed whites, were disregarded.

After a half hour or so Nux and Bryonia came out of the house, accompanied by the chief. They had broken bread together and tasted a native liquor, so that they might now depend upon the friendship of their host unless he found that they had deceived him. This was a long stride in the right direction. But when they had asked to see the king they were told that his residence was several miles to the eastward, and that in the morning Ogo would escort them to the royal dwelling and introduce them to the mighty Nalig-Nad.

Meantime Nux and Bry were given plain instructions not to leave this village, and when they were invited to sleep in the chief’s house they were able to decline by asserting that they always lived in their magic travelling machine. This excuse had been prearranged by us, for we deemed it best not to separate or to leave the machine while we were in the enemy’s country.

As soon as the blacks had re-entered the machine they commanded me, in abusive language, to prepare supper. Duncan at once got out our table, which was a folding contrivance he had arranged to set up in the center of the car, and then I got the alcohol stove from its locker and proceeded to light it.

While I made coffee and set the table with the food we had brought, Nux and Bry lolled on their seats and divided the admiring glances of the surrounding villagers with the (to them) novel preparations I was making for the repast. Then the Sulus sat at the table and I waited upon them with comical deference, Moit being unable to force himself to take part in the farce. Afterward we ate our own suppers and I for one relished it more than I usually did. In my boyish fashion I regarded it all as a great lark, and enjoyed the humor of the situation.

As it was growing dark I now lighted our lamps while the inventor drew the sections of the glass dome into place and fastened them together.

We could still be observed by those without, for although the top was provided with curtains we did not draw them. But now we were able to converse without being overheard, and Nux and Bry, appearing to be talking with each other, related all that had transpired in the chief’s house, while we commented upon it and our good fortune up to the present time.

“After we have visited the king, and made friends with him, we shall be able to go wherever we please,” I prophesied; “and then it won’t take us long to get the diamonds and make tracks back to the wreck again.”

To this all were agreed. Then Duncan remarked, musingly:

“It is strange you two Indian nations, so far removed, speak the same language.”

“True ’nough, Mars’ Moit,” replied Bry. “But I ’spect our folks come from de same country dese San Blas did, an’ dat ’counts fo’ it.”

“This fact ought to help us with them,” said I.

“Sure t’ing, Mars’ Sam,” Nux responded. “Dey knows now we just as good as dey is—an’ we know we’s better.”

As we were tired with our day’s excursion we soon removed the table and spread our blankets upon the roomy floor of the car. Then, with a courtesy we had not anticipated, the crowd of observers melted silently away, and by the time we were ready to put out the lights and draw the curtains we were alone in the village street, where not a sound broke the stillness.