Juan had too often encountered as fearful odds, in his Mexican campaigns, to lose his presence of mind in a crisis like this. He called to his men to come to his succor, as he prepared to hold the gate-way against his foes, and shouting his accustomed battle-cry, drew his long Toledo blade, and advanced it in guard to await Kiana’s onset.
This chief in his rush up the steps had not fairly lifted his eyes until the shout of “Santiago for Spain” reached his ears. His astonishment at the apparition of the white man,—the gleaming steel, fierce eyes, thick red beard and strange tongue, the costume so unlike his people’s,—instead of the expected tawny hue of his own race, brought him to a sudden stop. It was but for a moment, for, excited by his previous fury at a crime so uncommon among his people, he saw only an offender who seemed aided by sorcery, and rushed at him with uplifted javelin, reserving his force to strike and not to throw. So sudden and powerful was his spring, that although Juan’s sword parried the blow, he was borne backward, and Kiana found himself on the platform.
Both paused as they now better saw each other’s strength and strangeness. Kiana’s surprise was increased as Juan’s men, followed by Olmedo with crucifix in hand, came hastily up and ranged themselves at his side. His own soldiers were fast crowding upon the platform, filled with wonder rather than fear, at so unexpected a sight. At his command they were filing off to surround Juan’s little band, and close in upon them, while he upraised his javelin, prepared once more to tempt the skill of his strange enemy. His right foot was advanced, his broad chest thrown out and weapon poised to try again the thrust, which had never before failed him, when a new cry was heard and a new figure came forward and sprung between him and Alvirez.
It was Beatriz. Her long flowing robes, dishevelled hair, her pallor and the impulsive energy with which she pushed aside Juan’s sword, and turned her eager eyes towards Kiana, fearlessly fronting his javelin, amazed the red-men. Their weapons dropped silently by their sides, as their chief gazed in astonishment with powerless arm upon the new apparition.
Kiana’s indecision was, however, only momentary. A sudden thought had seized him. Turning to his followers he said, “Behold Lono and his wife! they have returned with their faces brightened, and their speech changed, from their abode in the sun. They have come as Lono promised, with new teachers and good gifts. Let us honor them and make them welcome.” As he spoke every weapon was laid upon the earth, and every head was bowed. Kiana alone stood erect, asserting his dignity even in the presence of a returned god.