"The gods!" Na-tay-atch-sa cried, and prostrated himself before the two Spaniards.  The boys followed his example.

Not understanding the strange actions or language of the natives, Emmanuel and Arturo held their own conference.

"What kind of men are these that wear only a skirt of woven leaves?  Do you think they will be friendly?" wondered Arturo.

"Savages, obviously.  Look at the way they fall down before us.  They must think us kings...or gods.  We need them, Arturo, if we are to survive in this strange land.

Loudly, Emmanuel commanded, "Rise, men of this land, we come as friends."

Na-tay-atch-sa sat up and leaned back on his haunches.  The god had spoken to them in a strange language.  It was a soft, pleasant sound, but indecipherable.

O-tcha-kee glanced sideways and saw the others beginning to sit up and did likewise.  For the first time, he got a good look at the Revered Ones.

Both were small and thin, and wore curious garments.  Both had much hair upon their faces.  The shorter of the two, although of lighter complexion than the natives, had black hair and gleaming black eyes.  The taller one--the one who spoke--was very different.  His wavy hair was the color of the ripened sea oats, and his eyes were the color of the summer sky.  "This one must be very powerful," he thought, and was surprised to see the light one make motions of hunger and eating.  Even though small offerings were left for the gods in the sacred places, O-tcha-kee had never thought of the gods as beings that actually ate.

Na-tay-atch-sa leaned forward and tentatively touched the ston