They had no lack of manner, and Luis and I had the Castilian to draw upon.

Then came presents and Diego Colon interpreting.

But as for the Admiral's letter, though I showed it, it was not understood.
It was gazed upon and touched, considered a heavenly rarity like the hawk bells we gave them, but not read nor tried to be read.

The writing upon it was the natural veining of some most strange leaf that grew in heaven, or it was the pattern miraculously woven by a miraculous workman with thread miraculously finer than their cotton! It was strange that they should have no notion at all--not even their chieftains and priests--of writing! Any part of Asia, however withdrawn, surely should have tradition there, if not practice! In this hut or lodge, doored but not windowed, we found a kind of table and seats fashioned from blocks of some dark wood rudely carved and polished.

The cacique would have us seated, sat himself beside us, the _butio_ at his hand.
There seemed no especial warrior class.