had just been sacrificing to their gods, perhaps to gain power to overcome us.
Many Indian women now came up to us with smiles, and while we were looking on, other natives clad in tattered cloaks approached, each carrying dried reeds, which they laid upon the ground. Behind them were troops of men, also in cotton armor, and bearing bows, shields, slings and stones.
At this moment there came running from another temple ten Indians, all dressed in long, white robes, the long hair of their heads so matted with blood that it could neither be combed nor put in order without cutting. These ten were priests, and in that country are called papas—I repeat it, they are in that country called papas. These papas carried clay pans filled with glowing coals and a substance that looked like resin, and they term copal. With this burning resin they began to incense us, and they signed that we should leave their country before the reeds, about to be lighted, should be consumed; otherwise they would attack us and kill us, every man.
After we had understood this determination of theirs, the papas ordered the reeds to be fired, and as soon as the wood began to burn they were silent. Those who had formed in line of battle, however, now set up a blowing of their pipes and twisted shells and beating of their drums.
When we saw what they really meant, and how
