For his own part he thought its source was a spring, heated by volcanic fires, and many others thought the same.

Its depth was unknown; he himself had tried to fathom it with the longest line he could find, yet had never succeeded in touching ground.
Meanwhile we were making good progress, sometimes paddling, sometimes poling (where the channel was narrow) and toward evening when, as I reckoned, we had travelled about sixty miles, we shot suddenly into a charming little lake with sylvan banks and a sandy beach.
Gondocori made fast the canoe to a tree, and we stepped ashore.
We are on the summit of a spur which stands out like a bastion from the imposing mass of the Cordillera, through the very heart of which runs the mysterious waterway we have just traversed.

Two thousand feet or more below is a broad plain, bounded on the west by a range of gaunt and treeless hills ribbed with contorted rocks, which stretch north and south farther than the eye can reach.

The plain is cultivated and inhabited.
There are huts, fields, orchards, and streams, and about a league from the foot of the bastion is a large village.
"Pachatupec ?" I asked.
"_Si, senor_, that is Pachatupec, a very fair land, as you see, and yonder is Pachacamac, where dwells our queen," said Gondocori, pointing to the village; and then he fell into a brown study, as if he was not quite sure what to do next.
The sight of his home did not seem to rejoice the cacique as much as might be supposed.

The approaching interview with Mamcuna was obviously weighing heavily on his soul, and, to tell the truth, I rather shared his apprehensions.