“Boy, an enemy plane could spot us from miles away!” Dick commented with a chuckle.
Weary and hungry, the group finally reached the Mayan village. News of their approach had spread, and Ahau Quetzal and his whole tribe had assembled to stare in awe as the travelers climbed out of their steel caravan.
“First you drop from sky in strange airship,” Quetzal told Tom. “Now you come in a steel monster which crawls along the ground like a lizard or snake.
You are indeed possessed of great magic!”
Tom smiled and shook his head. “Not magic. Like your great Mayan ancestors who ruled here in Yucatan, I study science-meaning the laws of nature. My father taught me that those laws must be used only for the good of mankind.”
“Then he too must be a wise man,” said Quetzal, nodding approvingly.
A MAYAN FEAST 83
“Now that that’s over—come an’ get it!” Chow bawled.
He stepped from the crowd, banging a native gong. Then the cook turned to Wilson Hutchcraft, who had just languidly entered the village. “You’re invited too, pardnerl”
In the center of the clearing the women had spread large ferns for a “table.”
At each place was a crude mat woven from the leaves of the guano palm. The “dishes” were fashioned from hollowed-out pieces of a banana-tree trunk. As the men and children scrambled for places, the women served the delicious native food.
First course for the North Americans was mamee-a sweet, red-meated fruit.
Next, Chow served a steaming platter of stewed chicken, covered with a rich dark-brown sauce.
“Mm!” Bud closed his eyes and inhaled the appetizing aroma. Then he added, pointing to the sauce, “But what’s this stuff?”