Now I returned to them, saying that I had been to Riolama.

He knew where Riolama was, although he had never been there: it was so far.

Why did I go to Riolama?
It was a bad place.
There were Indians there, a few; but they were not good Indians like those of Parahuari, and would kill a white man.

HAD I gone there?
Why had I gone there?
He finished at last, and it was my turn to speak, but he had given me plenty of time, and my reply was ready.

"I have heard you," I said.
"Your words are good words.