Chapter 8: A Successful Embassy.

During his previous visit to the Darien region Mr. Paterson had gained some knowledge of the native language, and this now stood him and his companions in good stead, as it caused them to be received not only with kindness, but with honour, by the Indians when they met them.

It was towards the close of their second day’s journey that the quick ear of Donalblane, who was in the lead with the guides, caught a sound that was different from anything he had hitherto heard.

“Eh! but is na that music?” he cried, turning to the nearest guide, who smiled assent, although in truth he did not understand the question. “I maun gang and tell Mr. Paterson;” and he raced back with the information.

Mr. Paterson was very pleased at the news, for he understood it to mean that the report of their expedition had preceded them, and that the Indians were coming to welcome them in their own way; and so it proved, for the music grew louder as they advanced, until, on entering one of the long forest aisles, they beheld a group of musicians playing upon reeds, accompanied by a chorus who joined in from time to time with a kind of musical humming.

Donalblane’s eyes opened wide at this. He had never expected to find an orchestra and a choral society among savages, and he expressed his surprise to Mr. Sutherland, who smilingly replied—

“Don’t be astonished at anything in this strange New World, my lad. It is as full of wonders as it is of perils.”

When the Scotsmen had come up to them, the musicians changed their march into a curious kind of dance, which continued until they crossed a small savannah and drew near a lofty grove standing by itself, within whose recesses it was understood the king awaited his visitors.

Then the dancing ceased, the music resumed, and there issued from the grove a bevy of graceful girls, glittering with golden ornaments, and carrying garlands of flowers which they threw over the necks of Mr. Paterson and his companions, not neglecting Donalblane, who blushed to the roots of his sandy hair at this unlooked-for adornment.

Guided by them, the visitors at length were ushered into the presence of the King of Darien, and Donalblane caught his breath at the imposing sight. Seated upon a huge throne of mahogany logs, decked with Spanish crimson cloth, and wearing a great crown of gold, the dusky potentate—albeit his robes were only of some light cotton stuff, and big shining rings dangled from his ears and nose—looked every inch a king.

So royal indeed was his appearance that the Scotsmen, moved by a common impulse, not only bowed, but knelt before him, which mark of respect evidently impressed his Majesty very favourably. Standing about him were fine-looking men, whose stature was heightened by diadems of the gold plumage of the mocking-bird, out of which rose two long feathers from the scarlet macaw. They leaned upon gleaming spears, and were no doubt ready to execute the commands of their master for life or death.