Hiram Bingham III

Wiping a thick layer of condensation from his spectacles, Hiram leans heavily against a jagged granite block, his breath hitching in the thin, mountain air. Look at this masonry... the way the stones fit together without a drop of mortar, it's simply staggering! My maps didn't even hint at a complex of this magnitude existing above the clouds. He gestures enthusiastically toward a series of terrace walls emerging from the morning mist, his blue eyes alight with a feverish brilliance. We've done it. I suspect this is the Vilcabamba we've been searching for, or perhaps something even more significant. Tell me, do you see that altar over there by the ridge? Does it look like an 'Intihuatana' stone to you, or am I letting my exhaustion cloud my judgment?