Saturday, 22 December 2007

Comets, Meteors and Shooting Stars



Comets, Meteors and Shooting Stars

By A. HYATT VERRILL

From American Boy, January 1912, digital copy 2007 by Doug Frizzle

IT IS rather hard to draw the line between comets, meteors and shooting stars, and even astronomers are at something of a loss to furnish hard and fast rules to distinguish them. As a, rule, comets are mainly composed of gas or gaseous matter, and travel in a regular course or orbit, while meteors or "shooting stars" are composed of metallic or stony material and have no real defined orbit.

Certain meteors or meteoric showers have regular orbits, however, and in some cases these meteoric showers are believed to be the remains of comets which have been split up or otherwise disintegrated. This is fairly well proven by the fact that the present meteors follow practically the same course and appear at the same time that missing comets should. The Brooks comet is pretty well known to be composed of gases, but even so, these gases might readily be solidified or combined with other matter and form solid material under certain conditions. Little is really actually known of the formation or composition of these celestial bodies, for while some observers claim a comet to be entirely gaseous, others equally as competent insist that the same comet is composed of great numbers of small meteors, while others claim that the head is solid and the tall gaseous. A great many comets have been recognized for many years and their orbits and the time of their appearance is well known and is computed for years in advance of their arrival. Such is the case with Halley's comet and many others.

Meteors are rather erratic and while certain seasons of the year are more productive of meteors than others, owing to the earth's passage through belts of meteoric showers, yet they are visible at all times and on any bright, clear night meteors or "shooting stars" may be seen.

The great majority of shooting stars never reach the earth but are entirely consumed while passing through the outermost stratas of our atmosphere. Doubtless many more fall into the sea and are never seen. Many people have seen meteors so brilliant and apparently so close at hand that they have actually thought they saw the spot where they fell, but authentic cases of eye witnesses of a meteor striking the earth are very rare.

Several years ago, while in the West Indies, I was fortunate enough to witness two exceedingly brilliant meteors. The first of these fell at midday and although it was a bright sunny day the light was so intense that it seemed like a magnesium flashlight. The meteor caused a sound like escaping steam and exploded with a deafening detonation. It was seen to fall into the Carribean Sea some ten miles distant and the splash of water was plainly visible.

The other meteor fell at night and for several seconds the atmosphere was illuminated with a greenish light as brilliant as day. The report of this bursting meteor was as loud as a large cannon and the natives screamed and ran in every direction believing that one of the island's volcanoes was in eruption. At the time we thought this meteor struck close at hand but a few days later the captain of a steamer told me that he had seen the same meteor some three hundred miles distant and that it appeared just as brilliant and exploded with as loud a report as described by us so that it was evident that it might well have struck several hundred miles from either of us, Meteors are roughly divided into two classes: stony meteorites and metallic meteorites. The first of these are stony and usually bear a general resemblance to trap rock, although usually more rounded and showing evidences of recent fusion. The metallic meteorites are composed mainly of nickel-iron and are very heavy. They are usually dull blackish or rusty on the outside with numerous rounded or smoothed nodules and hollows on their surface. In section they present curiously formed patterns known as Widmanstatten Figures and the presence of these are a sure proof of the meteoric origin of the specimen.

Many rare minerals and metals are found in meteorites and they are invariably of great interest to scientists.

While small meteorites frequently strike the earth, yet they are usually of great value, for no two are just alike in structure or composition. In some places, as in certain districts in Iowa, meteorites are quite common and as a rule these visitors from the heavens are far commoner on level, treeless plains than in wooded districts; not because more have fallen there but because they are easier to see or find. Very large meteorites are rare but quite a number have been found. Among these large specimens is one in the Yale museum weighing several hundred pounds and the huge specimens in the American Museum of New York City which were brought from Greenland by Commander Perry.

Doubtless most of the smaller specimens are but fragments from larger bodies which exploded upon coming in contact with the earth's atmosphere, and there seems no real reason why enormous meteors, or aggregations of small ones, should not strike the earth at any time or place. Such things have occurred in the past and at least one such happening has left indisputable records of the enormous size and power of large meteors. When this huge aerolite struck, or what its size, may never be known, but the impact was sufficient to form a great depression, or basin, in the crust of the earth that for many years was considered a volcanic crater. Coon Mountain, or Coon Butte is the common name of this crater but it is now known also as Meteor Crater. It is situated in northern central Arizona and investigations by trustworthy geologists and scientists have proven beyond a doubt that it was formed by the blow from a gigantic meteor, or aerial projectile of some sort.

The country around Meteor Crater is a fairly level, rocky plain with a thin covering of soil, in spots the soil is entirely absent while there are no trees upon the plain other than stunted cedars and a sparse growth of cottonwoods and walnuts along the water courses. There are no volcanic rocks of any sort nearer than Sunset Mountain, nine miles distant, and the San Francisco Mountains forty miles to the northwest. The crater iiself is nearly circular and is about 4,000 feet, or about three-fourths of a mile in diameter. From the rim to the interior central plain or floor it is about 570 feet deep.

The rim is formed of broken and pulverized rock which has been forced up from beneath the surface of the earth and careful observations and measurements, as well as comparisons of the rock in the rim and samples of the original strata obtained by drilling, prove that this enormous mass of solid rock has actually been lifted upward for more than one hundred feet. The weight of this lifted mass of rock is estimated at twenty to thirty million tons and the fragments are of all sizes from the finest gravel to masses weighing over four hundred tons.

The total amount of material which was forced out to form the crater is over three hundred million tons. With such startling figures it is next to impossible to estimate the size of the projectile which caused the upheaval, or to even guess at the speed with which it travelled or the energy it exerted, but it is safe to say that it weighed at least a million tons and travelled far faster than a rifle ball. It certainly was several hundred feet in diameter and may have been either a solid meteorite or a dense mass of innumerable smaller projectiles.

That the present floor of the crater is composed largely of accumulated debris seems certain, for borings have shown similar material to extend down some five or six hundred feet. An Iron Company has a plant in the centre of the crater and large quantities of nickel iron (meteoric iron) have been collected both from the surface and from drillings.

Although several thousand tons of this material have been gathered, yet the great bulk, at least 90 per cent, of the original meteor remains to be accounted for. Several theories have been advanced to solve this puzzle, some of which are rather far-fetched. Among these is the theory that the mass, after striking, rebounded into space or else bounded into the Pacific Ocean.

These theories are unworthy of notice and the only ones worthy of consideration are the following: First that the huge mass was broken into small pieces and thrown out of the crater by the rebound of its own force. Second: That it has disappeared through oxidization and decomposition. Third: That it is still somewhere and in some form in the depths of the earth within the crater. The first two of these theories seem to have been disproved by the facts that there have been very few, if any, fragments of the meteoric mass found on the plains around the crater and that all the meteoric material found in the crater is in a fine state of preservation and shows little sign of oxidization.

This brings about the conclusion that a vast mass of meteoric iron lies somewhere beneath the crater but how far it penetrated or where or when it will be found, remains a mystery which will be of the greatest scientific interest when solved.

The human mind can scarcely grasp the size and power of the rushing meteor which, travelling at a rate of from twenty to thirty miles a second, struck the rocky Arizona plain with sufficient force to tear out a great bowl-shaped crater nearly a mile in diameter and a thousand feet deep and hurled up three hundred million tons of rock and sand, tossing great masses of four hundred tons far out upon the plain and pulverizing the flinty quartz to the finest flour. It is by far the most stupendous "shooting star" of which we have any record and the crater is undoubtedly the most remarkable mountain in the world and instead of being devoted to the commercial uses of an iron company it should be guarded and preserved by the Government as the most remarkable and most interesting of our natural curiosities.

Monday, 17 December 2007

Know Your Indians - Religions, Beliefs, Ceremonials

KNOW YOUR INDIANS

By A. Hyatt Verrill

INDIAN RELIGIONS, BELIEFS, CEREMONIALS, ETC.

From Double Action Western magazine, March 1954, digital capture by Doug Frizzle 2007.

THERE HAS been a vast amount of misinformation as well as many erroneous ideas in regard to the religious beliefs, the ceremonials and dances, the "medicines" and medicine-men, and the so-called superstitions of the Indians. One writer has even stated that the Indians had no conception of a single supreme deity, but lived in constant dread of evil spirits. Nothing could be much further from the truth. I do not know of a single tribe who did not believe in and worship a supreme deity or Creator. He might be called Manitu, Mani, Waitkam, He-Who-Sits-In-The-Sky, or by any one of scores of names; but in every case this supreme, deity was regarded as the Creator, and as a most beneficent spirit whose abode was usually in the heavens—in the sun, in some lofty mountain, or even in some sacred lake.

Legends of the creation are common to nearly all—if not all—tribes and in all, or nearly all, of these the "Great Spirit" is credited with having created the earth and all living things. A great many of the Indians were so-called Sun Worshippers, but when they "worshipped" the sun they were, in reality, worshipping the Creator, for they believed that the sun was his visual manifestation. When they prayed to or made offerings to some sacred lake, or mountain, or other object, they were not worshipping the natural formation itself but the deity who supposedly resided there. In other words, it was similar to the Christians praying to images of the Virgin, or the Saviour, or kneeling before an altar.

In much the same way, the so-called Indian "Idols" were not true idols but merely representations of certain deities, as the Indians believed they should appear if visible. Among many tribes the Supreme God was believed to have a wife, whose visual manifestation was the moon. They believed that the movements of the two planets were to enable the heavenly pair to watch over all people on earth; and some believed that when no moon was visible, the goddess came to earth, and —assuming human form—wandered about among the people—and that during the night the sun-spirit came to the earth. As they saw the sun rise— apparently from the earth—at dawn, they had some basis for this belief and they accounted for the fact that both the sun and moon were sometimes together in the sky by the belief that the moon had to be with her consort at times. Other tribes believed that both the sun and moon were always in the sky, but became visible only when tenanted by the Great Spirit and his wife.

We cannot afford to ridicule such beliefs, for man conceives his gods as beings to whom he owes the most and greatest blessings and hence pictures their abodes as the spots whence come the most important benefits—such as light, warmth, rains, etc. Even the Christian and Hebraic conception of God in a celestial Paradise is derived from similar reasoning, for from the sky comes the life-giving rain and the sunshine sent to earth by a beneficent deity who, therefore, must abide in the heavens; and just as the Indians believed that their greatest deity lived or manifested himself in the sun or elsewhere above the earth, so Christians—or at least many of them—believe that an invisible Creator or God exists somewhere above the earth. Among all tribes, the Great Spirit, or Creator, or Supreme Deity was believed to be a most kindly and beneficent god who watched over them, helped them, guided them, and left punishments for transgressions to the evil spirits or "devils". When, as was often the case, they had a Serpent God, an Eagle God, or a Jaguar or Bear God, and depicted the Great Deity in the guise of a jaguar or cougar, an eagle or a serpent, these were merely symbolic. The serpent was the symbol of wisdom, the eagle the symbol of power over the air, and the bear—or other beast—the symbol of power and strength on earth. Among tribes who depended greatly upon the sea for a living, the so-called "Fish God" was the symbol of power over the waters. And when Indians worshipped—or made offerings—to some certain mountain, lake, river, or other natural object or to some "sacred" creature, it was because they believed that the objects or creatures were tenanted by deities or good spirits.

In addition to the one supreme deity, and numerous lesser deities such as their Rain Gods, War Gods, Crop Gods, and others, the Indians believed in a multiplicity of evil spirits or "devils". As they reasoned that good spirits would not harm them, they devoted a great deal of their time to propitiating these evil spirits—which led many persons, especially the missionaries, to assume that the Indians were Devil Worshippers. Most of the Indians considered their "devils" rather stupid and easily-hoodwinked spirits, and often employed the simplest means to keep them at a safe distance.

AMONG A great number of tribes the children were given secret names, known only to the Shaman or Medicine Man and to the child's godmother; that name never was used or spoken, the Indians believing that in this way they could prevent the devils from learning the child's name and hence could not take possession of him or her. Another wide-spread custom was to fashion a charm or fetish —such as a crudely-carved or modelled figure—which served as a proxy to attract evil spirits, who would enter the figure instead of the maker. It was also an almost universal custom to "break" or interrupt the pattern, or design, of a textile, basket or decoration. This might be merely an interruption in the design that was scarcely noticeable, or it might be nothing more than a change of color; but the Indians believed that when this was done the "devil" could not find his way into the object. It was such a widely-used method of befuddling the evil spirits that the "break" is one of the most reliable means of distinguishing a genuine Indian-made object from an imitation.

With their beliefs in an after-life, the Indians varied as greatly as in their conceptions of spirits and deities. Indians who relied mainly upon the chase would naturally imagine an ideal heaven as a place abounding in game or a "Happy hunting ground"; an agricultural tribe would feel that a heaven of rich soil, abundant crops, and no weeds or insect foes would be the perfect paradise: and Indians who relied upon sea-food would, in the same way, desire any after-life where there were unlimited numbers of fish. Also, just as some Christians believe in a literal heaven and hell, and some believe in a bodily resurrection, or in a spiritual reincarnation, and still others believe in other conditions of afterlife, so the Indians had (and still have) innumerable conceptions of the destiny of the soul, or spirit, after death. But in the majority of cases— no matter what their belief in the future might be—the Indians are spiritualists, and are convinced that the spirits of the dead visit the earth, and their former friends and fellow-tribesmen, under certain conditions, are able to communicate with the living.

When an Indian wished to communicate with the spirits of the departed, in order to obtain advice or help in some important matter, or desired to make some very potent charm or "medicine", he would go to a remote spot. There he would pray and fast until he had a vision and the spirit gave him explicit directions as to what he must do. In all probability, they did have such visions. Many a white man who has suffered hardships and privations has had "visions", even though he was not delirious, and the Indian is far more susceptible to such hallucinations than the white man. Moreover, in his exalted state, and believing implicitly in the efficacy of his prayers and his fasting, his visions would be far more realistic and vivid than those of a white man.

Nor should we ridicule such visions as purely hallucination. Much of our Christian Faith is founded upon visions, and the whole story of the Crucifixion and the Resurrection would be shattered were we to cast aside the visions that were the results of sublime faith coupled with overwrought nerves and brains. Moreover, many highly intelligent white persons are firm believers in spiritualism; when an Indian isolates himself and fasts and prays he is merely holding a private seance. At any rate, he invariably follows the dictates of his vision to the most minute details and, not infrequently, with amazing results. It is a trite old saying that "Faith will move mountains" and the faith of the Indian is truly sublime. In fact faith was, and still is, one of the most outstanding features of Indian psychology. It was largely owing to their faith in the white men's promises and treaties that led to their downfall.

I have never known an Indian— who has not been ruined by civilization and contact with the whites—who intentionally broke a promise, or who was dishonest. As a result, until they learned better, they judged others by white men's words and treaties. But when they discovered their mistake, and their faith was destroyed, they lost confidence in all white men and withdrew into a shell of suspicion and aloofness.

But they never have lost faith in their deities and their religions. They reason that their gods are infallible, and when anything goes wrong they blame themselves or the evil spirits. Their faith in prayers is sublime, more especially when their prayers have been augmented by fasting, dancing, making offerings, elaborate ceremonials, and some form of self-sacrifice.

On one occasion, after a prolonged drought during which the Zunis had prayed and made offerings to their rain god, there had been a torrential downpour over a small area, and it had completely destroyed the crops of one old Indian.

“I guess you'll stop praying for rain now," a white friend remarked as be saw the ruined fields.

"Me pray," replied the Indian. "Rain God make mistake. Send too much rain one place. Must send water other place now."

IN ADDITION to their innumerable charms, fetishes, proxies, etc., the Indians had absolute faith in their good and bad "medicine". In the broadest sense of the term, "medicine" was anything that had either a beneficial or a detrimental influence or power. However, it was not the "medicine" object itself that was supposed to do this, but the prayers and rituals or "magic" put into it that won the favor of the gods. A "medicine" might be anything—either animate or inanimate, natural or man-made. It might be a true medicine or cure, but the term we translate as "medicine" includes dreams, witchcraft, prophecies, spiritualism, visions, unusual or peculiar objects, special weapons—or, in fact, anything which the Indian considers what we might call lucky or unlucky, or that he considers mysterious, or connected with the occult. Thus they had their medicine-dances, medicine-moccasins, medicine headdresses, medicine-houses, or lodges, medicine-bundles, medicine-weapons, etc., as well as their medicine-societies and medicine-clans—the latter often being founded or based upon some strange or mysterious occurrence of the past.

One form of medicine used by many tribes are the "medicine-sticks". These are of many designs, and are used for many purposes. They may be offerings to spirits and designed to bring about some particular result; they may serve to keep undesirable spirits or persons at a distance; or they may even serve as invitations.

Among the Sioux, and other plains tribes, these medicine-sticks are very common. As a rule, they consist of the sprout or young shoot of some tree that is stripped of bark and either left bare or painted. In the latter case, the colors and designs are symbolic; a red stick, for example, indicating an offering to some supernatural being. In this case, a tiny bundle is attached to the stick, and within this there will be something that the Indian believes will please the spirits. It may be cloth, beads, tobacco, trinkets, hair, fur, a bit of skin or feathers, or some medicinal seed, tuber or leaves—for the offering is merely a proxy or a sample, as we might say, representing the gifts the Indian is willing to bestow if his prayers are answered, and an expression in concrete form of his desire to please the deity to whom it is dedicated. No matter how small the offering may be, it contains the spirit or the immaterial idea of the true offering. If the sticks are properly prepared with the correct ceremonies anyone may make and use them—for almost any purpose—although, as a rule, they are mainly used to cure some illness.

Frequently a dozen or more of the sticks may be seen outside of a home where someone is ill. In this respect they are not so different from the blessed candles that many devout Christians place about a sick person, with the belief that they will aid in his or her recovery, and that are visual representations of prayers offered.

The offering-sticks should not be confused with the true prayer-sticks, which are very similar in purpose to the Orientals' paper-prayers. In the case of the Indians' prayer-sticks, a true prayer or invocation is made, the stick itself being merely a representation or proof of the prayer, and perpetuating it, whereas the offering-sticks employed as curatives are representations of actual offerings promised, or expressive of certain sacrifices to be made—and may or may not be accompanied by prayers. Somewhat similar sticks are also used by Indians when they isolate themselves and, by fasting and meditation, see "visions" or communicate with the spirits.

ONE VERY popular medicine that was used by many of the plains tribes were the "buffalo stones"—in reality fossil mollusks—which the Indians believed would attract or "call" the buffalos and that almost always had a place in the Indians "medicine-bundles". The latter had innumerable forms and no two were exactly alike, for each contained the private individual medicines of the owner of the bundle. This might be a true bundle containing all manner of odds and ends— such as scalp-locks, herbs, roots, teeth, fur, sweet flag roots, bones, a human jawbone or even a skull, dried fingers and "buffalo stones", brightly-colored or oddly-shaped pebbles, etc. But each and every item was regarded by the owner of the bundle as possessing some special "medicine" power. As a rule, many of the objects were adorned with bead work, or were painted in symbolic colors and designs, while the "buffalo stones" were neatly covered with beaded buckskin—but always with a hole or small opening to enable the stones to "look out".

Other bundles consisted mainly of wearing-apparel such as beaded vests or shirts, headdresses, medicine-moccasins, etc., often in miniature size but frequently full-sized, and each article carefully made and prepared in accordance with some spiritual vision. As an example of this there is the medicine-bundle of Sees-the-Living-Bull, a Crow chief and famous medicine-man, who died in 1896 when ninety-eight years of age. The bundle, now in the Museum of the American Indian, Heye Foundation, in New York City, was obtained from Gray Bull in 1921 and contains a pair of "medicine-moccasins" which, according to the family traditions, were made in the following manner.

He fasted for a period of four days, for four times, while isolated on a high mountain in Montana; on the morning of the fifth day of the fifth fast, he had a vision in which the morning star changed slowly into a man who stood on the verge of the horizon. As the visitant walked toward the Indian a fire appeared to spring from each of his footprints. Finally, when he was close to Sees-the-Living-Bull, the being spoke, saying, "I am here bringing a message from Bird-Going-Up who is coming to visit you." The Indian then noticed that the visitant wore strange moccasins. The one on his left foot was made from the skin of the head of a silver fox, while that on the right foot was made from the skin of a Coyote head—both heads with the ears left on, while about the edges of the soles were scalp-locks with quill wrappings. The heel of the right moccasin was painted black, and that of the left moccasin was red.

Presently Sees-the-Living-Bull heard the howling of a coyote and the barking of a fox, the sounds seeming to come from the moccasins of the spirit, while flames appeared coming from the mouth of the fox head. The spiritual visitor wore a shirt of scalp locks and buckskin leggings fringed with colored horse-hair, while his face was painted with a wide red circle and two smaller red circles. Presently the visitant commenced to sing and taught Sees-the-Living-Bull the song that was as follows:

The bird is saying this, and wherever we are, nothing may be in our way,

The bird is gone; I will let him come and watch over you.

I am letting him stay, I am telling him to stay.

I am going toward human beings, and they are weak.

The bird from above has sympathy toward you.

Wherever 1 am going I say this: I am the bird in the world.

My child, I am living among the clouds and there is nothing impossible to me.

After he had learned these lines, Sees-the-Living-Bull was warned that he should never go to war in a westerly direction as it would bring bad luck; and never afterward would he attack the Arapahoes, the Shoshones or the Flatheads, who lived to the west of the Crow country.

Having received these instructions, the Indian felt a sudden gust of wind that blew away his blanket; and as he sought for the blanket the vision ended, and the mysterious being disappeared. Then, as the sun rose, he returned to his village and made his medicine-bundle with the magic-moccasins. This was always kept outside his teepee, except during ceremonials when it was carried inside—first around the left side of the teepee, then out on the right side of the entrance. According to the Crows, this medicine was very efficacious in locating enemies and in protecting Sees-the-Living-Bull when on the warpath. Until his death he always wore the magic-moccasins at ceremonials, after first smudging them in pine-needle smoke.

VERY OFTEN an Indian's medicine-bundle would become so large, or he would have so many bundles, that it became necessary to build a special place in which to keep them. Such altars or shrines were quite common with some of the plains tribes and were very elaborate affairs. One of these, from the Hidatsas, now in the Museum of the American Indian, consists of a platform covered with medicine-robes highly decorated with beadwork and feathers; it has many medicine-bundles, medicine-weapons, odds and ends of symbolical and medicine-objects, as well as a buffalo-head, scattered about on the raised platform and upon the ground beneath.

Such shrines are quite distinct from the sacred shrines of some tribes such as the Blackfeet, who dedicated them and their contents to the sun god; these were regarded as sacred by all Indians, whether friends or foes—but were not in any true sense "medicine" affairs.

Another type of "medicine" bundle was mainly symbolic and intended to bring good luck to the owner and his people. Usually the exact meaning or significance of the objects in the bundle would be known only to the owner, who would "read" or interpret them when need arose. Thus, in a bundle of a Southern Sioux, there are amulets that in time of war were attached to the owner's body as fetishes or charms; these consisted of portions of swift, fierce, strong or brave creatures that were supposed to impart their characteristics to the wearer. Thus the tail of a bison gave strength; a hawk's skin transmitted fierceness; a swallow gave speed, etc. In addition, a miniature war-club was symbolic of lightning and the power of the Thunder God, while a stone ball symbolized the lightning's destruction. A highly decorated thong was supposed to bring success in capturing prisoners, while a small doll made of buckskin represented an enemy in the power of the owner of the bundle. In addition to these there were true "medicines" to be chewed or rubbed on the body for the purpose of turning aside enemies' weapons, together with medicinal herbs for healing wounds, and still other charms to prevent the owner from being harmed by any evil effects resulting from his own magic.

Finally there were medicine-bundles of the shamen or medicine-men, tribal bundles, bundles for tattooing (a sacred rite among some tribes), bundles to bring success in breeding horses, in trading—and, in fact, for nearly every conceivable purpose. In addition to their medicine bundles the Indians had many medicine-weapons, shields and implements that were supposed to guard the owner, or to possess magical powers to destroy the enemy or to kill buffafos. So absolute was the Indian's faith in such things that he would go to war protected only by a tiny, inadequate medicine-shield, or wearing a medicine-shirt, fully convinced that they would turn aside arrows, lances, war-clubs or even bullets. As a matter of fact, this faith was often justified; an enemy, recognizing the magical shield or garment —and having as much faith in the medicine as the owner—would fear to attack him. But when it came to fighting the white men, who were no respecters of Indian "medicine", and a bullet penetrated shield or garment, or the medicine-weapons failed to kill the whites, the Indian did not lose faith in his magic. Invariably he would blame himself, and would be convinced that the failure was the result of some fault or omission in the preparation of the "medicine". When at last they found that there was no medicine that was bullet-proof, the medicine-shields and medicine-weapons were abandoned.

Know Your Indians - Weapons, Moccasins, Headresses

KNOW YOUR INDIANS

True Fact Feature By A. Hyatt Verriil

WEAPONS, MOCCASINS, HEADRESSES, ETC.

From Double Action Western magazine, November 1953, digital capture by Doug Frizzle 2007

BEFORE the coming of the white men and the introduction of firearms, the most important and universal weapon of the North American tribes was the bow and arrow. These varied greatly according to the tribe. Among most of the eastern and Middle West Indians the favorite bow was of hickory, osage orange or ash, flat on both sides, fairly wide, and about four feet in length; the ax-act shape varied greatly. The Iroquois used bows with the hand-hold narrower than above and below, and usually with the ends somewhat recurved. For use in warfare the Wabenaki Indians of Maine used a unique double bow in which the supplementary bow doubled the power of the regular bow; some of the more southerly tribes, such as the Creeks, Chickasaws, Choctaws. etc., used long slender bows, flat on one side and rounded on the other.

The tribes of the far western plains used bows of a very different type. Wood suitable for bows was scarce until the white men left hickory wagon-bows, ox yokes, and other equipment which supplied the Indians with seasoned hickory and ash. In order to add power to their bows, the buffalo-hunting Indians bound sinews or strips of horn to their wooden bows and wrapped them with rawhide. They also made bows of horn, carefully fitted together and wrapped with rawhide, for to these tribes the power of the bow— rather than its accuracy—counted the most; and many of their bows would drive an arrow completely through a buffalo. Beyond the plains, in the Sierras and on the Pacific coast, the Indians, as a rule, used very broad, flat bows with a narrow rounded grip, and often with strongly recurved ends.

Although the arrows varied somewhat among the many tribes, the differences were mainly in the method of feathering, the form of the finger-grip, and the method of attaching the head. Some tribes used two, sometimes three feathers. Some fastened the feathers to the shaft for their full length while others attached them only at the ends. Some placed the feathers straight and parallel with the shaft, while others attached them at an angle or at a curve. Some tribes preferred a flattened finger-grip above the notch; others used arrows with the notch end slightly larger than the shaft. In order to allow the blood of a wounded creature, or a man, to flow freely the arrows were often made with grooves or shallow gutters—sometimes straight and sometimes wavy or spiral—extending the length of the shafts. This was an almost universal custom among the plains tribes.

Before the arrival of Europeans, the Indians used stone, horn, bone, tooth or wooden heads to their arrows; but these were quickly discarded in favor of iron or steel, once the metals were obtainable. Another weapon rarely mentioned in accounts of our Indians, but which was quite widely used was the blow-gun. These were used by practically all of the more southerly tribes, and even by the Iroquois—although, as far as is known, the Indians of the United States did not use poisoned darts, as do the Indians of tropical America. Throwing-spears, or javelins, were important weapons of many of the eastern woodland tribes; and after the plains Indians had acquired horses, the long lance became a favorite and almost universally used weapon of warfare, as well as in hunting buffalo.

It will doubtless surprise many people to learn that our North American Indians used both the Bolas and the Boomerang. Even the tribes of New England used a form of the bolas with three round stones, enclosed in rawhide, connected by buckskin or rawhide thongs, for hunting certain kinds of game. The Indians of New Mexico and Arizona, such as the Zunis, Yumas, Pimas, Navajos, Hopis and others, used and still use, a crude type of boomerang for killing rabbits.

It is almost impossible to find a story in which Indians are mentioned that does not refer to their use of tomahawks. (the name is a corruption of the old English "Tammi-axe" or little axe). Short-handled hatchets or axes with stone heads were favorite weapons of practically all the eastern, the southern, and the middle-western tribes before the coming of the white men; and the iron or steel-headed hatchets brought by the Europeans became very widespread and popular weapons. Although the majority were plain hatchets, some were carved and cut into highly ornate forms; and combination tomahawks and pipes became common, although, as a rule, these were used only for ceremonial purposes and not as weapons.

In addition to the hatchets, or tomahawks, all of the tribes had their war clubs. These varied greatly in design. Some were mere bludgeons of heavy wood; others were of wood with a stone attached to the end by rawhide, while others had sharp stone or metal blades inserted at the striking end. In fact, the number of forms of war clubs was almost endless, for they varied not only according to the tribe but with the individual taste or ideas of the owner. With the acquisition of horses, the plains Indians' lives, customs and weapons were greatly altered to suit conditions. Although still using the short-handled-hatchet or tomahawk to some extent, they greatly preferred their own long war-clubs and long-handled, stone-headed skull-crackers. The short-handled tomahawk was effective only at close quarters, and in hand-to-hand fighting; it could not be used to split the skull of a fallen enemy as the warrior dashed by on horseback. But the four-foot wooden war-club, with its stone-weighted tip, or with sharp steel blades—or the skull-crackers with their round, or ovoid stone heads and long flexible handles of buffalo sinew or twisted rawhide—were terrible and most effective weapons, with which a warrior could bash in the head of an enemy at a distance of seven or eight feet.

WE OFTEN read of the plains Indians throwing a tomahawk at an enemy with deadly accuracy while at a full gallop. This is pure fiction, for no man—white or red and no matter how skillful—can throw a hatchet —or even a knife—with accuracy when mounted and in motion.

In order to hit his mark with the blade, the thrower must know the exact distance of his target, for a variation of even three feet will make all the difference between a weapon striking blade-on or handle-on. Every thrown weapon makes a certain number of turns in a certain distance. In fact the art or skill in knife or hatchet throwing depends very largely upon the thrower's ability to judge distance accurately—which is manifestly impossible when a man is charging forward on horseback or afoot.

Another fallacy that so frequently occurs in tales of Indians is that a skilled tracker could always identify the tribe of an Indian by the imprints of his moccasins. Many of our eastern and middle-western Indian tribes used soft buckskin or moosehide moccasins, and while each tribe had its own particular method of fitting the tongue to the uppers, the imprint would be that of the wearer's foot with no indication of how the moccasins were made. The majority of the eastern and central tribes gathered or puckered the uppers to the tongue, and while the latter might be narrow, broad, oval or wedge-shaped, the imprint left by the wearer would be the same. Even the Seminole moccasin, which is a very distinctive and unique type without a tongue but with the two sides of the uppers gathered together over the instep, leaves an imprint of the wearers foot exactly like that of a man wearing a Tarantine, an Iroquois, or a Delaware moccasin. There are, however, certain types of soft moccasins that do leave identifiable imprints, such as those of the Quapaws, which have a seam along the sole. With the plains Indians' moccasins it was a different matter, for while—with one or two exceptions—all were made with thick rawhide or parfleche soles and soft buckskin uppers, the shape of the soles varied with the different tribes.

Also, a skilled tracker, familiar with the moccasins used by the various so-called Apache tribes, the Comanches, Kiowas and others, could usually identify the tribe of an Indian by his moccasin-tracks, for most of these desert Indians used moccasins of rawhide that did not conform to the shape of the wearer's feet, as did the soft buckskin footgear of the woodland tribes.

Very much the same is the truth about the Indians' head-dresses. Certain tribes did have distinctive feather head-dresses, or wore their hair or the feather-plumes in a certain easily-recognized manner. For example, the like tufts of hair of the Pawnees, which gave the tribe its name of "Piriki" or "Little horns"; or the queue and drooping feather plume of the Blackfoot brave, or the low, diagonally-placed plume of the Cheyennes were unmistakeable means of identification; but on the other hand, each of the various tribes also wore a great many forms of elaborate head-dresses. Although the "bonnet" of the Black-feet, with its vertical feathers was very different from the bonnets of the Sioux and Cheyennes—with the feathers lying almost flat over the head—yet, for certain ceremonies and under certain conditions, a Blackfoot might wear the Sioux type of head-dress or vice versa,

In fact, the types and designs of head-dresses were innumerable, for special forms were required for the various ceremonials, dances, etc. Some were symbolical; others told those "in the know" of the brave or noteworthy deeds of the wearer; others denoted rank or social status; others were clan or "medicine" head-dresses—and in addition to all of these, the individual taste of the maker resulted in endless forms and variations of head-gear and hair-dos. It seems to be a popular idea that the larger and more spectacular the Indian's feather head-dress, the more important and famous the wearer. This, however, is not the case. Many of the most showy "war bonnets'' with double tails and hundreds of feathers are purely ornamental; whereas, on the other hand, one or two eagle feathers with "coup" marks may identify the wearer as a doer of brave deeds, a mighty warrior or a high ranking chieftan. And if we see a "war bonnet" with its plumes tipped with smaller "coup" feathers, or notched in a certain manner, we may be sure the wearer is a veteran of many battles and a mighty man in the land. To the Indian, the "coup marks" are like the service-ribbons or buttons to the white soldier. And just as those who know the significance of the veteran's multicolored ribbons, so the Indian reads in the "coup" marks the story of the wearer's deeds. Very often ''coups" may be recorded by feathers attached to lances, war-clubs, shields, or more frequently to "coup-sticks" which resemble shepherds' crooks in form.

I have a coup-stick, that belonged to Crazy Horse, that is completely covered with prime mink skins and bears eleven "coup" feathers won in the Battle of the Little Big Horn. Very often both head-dresses, coup sticks. and other objects were decorated with scalps; but to the plains Indians the scalp itself was less important than the "coup", or first to touch a dead or wounded enemy; for once a foe was touched by "coup" he was considered dead, and was treated as if non-existent. The scalp once taken, dried and displayed, was of little value other than as an ornament, or to be used in fringes for garments. In fact, among most of the western tribes, taking the scalp was more of an act of vengeance or, retribution, than of obtaining a souvenir —each scalp being regarded as payment for the death of a tribesman of the taker. In somewhat the same manner, the so-called "scalp dance" was not in reality a "dance" celebrating the taking of scalps, but a chant or dirge of mourning for members of the tribe lost in battle, and with the participants standing almost motionless.

ANOTHER matter regarding which there is a deal of popular misconception is the so-called "peace pipe". The true peace pipe or Calumet was a very symbolical, elaborate affair with both a male and a female pipe, only brought forth from their wrappings on momentous occasions, and so surrounded by symbolism and ceremonies that they are incomprehensible to the average white man. The ordinary, commonly called "peace" pipe had merely a friendly or companionable meaning and was smoked on practically on all occasions of councils, discussions, or with visitors. On such occasions tobacco was used, the Indians regarding the tobacco as a sacred gift from the Great Spirit whereas on ordinary occasions— or when smoking for pleasure—the Indians used various other substances such as red willowbark, or dried leaves, sometimes with a little tobacco added.

Although we usually think of the Indians' musical instruments consisting of drums and rattles only, they also had numerous forms of fifes, flutes, whistles, trumpets, etc. However, the drums and rattles were the most important, as they were particularly adapted to the Indians' types of dancing-music and ceremonies. Each tribe had its own favorite, or popular, type of drum, and, in addition, each had a number of forms of drums—each designed for a certain purpose. There were deep, slender drums; short, broad drums; drums with double heads, and those with single heads. Many had the heads attached permanently to the barrel, while others had devices for tightening the head.

Although none of the North American Indians could transmit drum "talk" for such long distances as did the Negroes of Africa, and the Indians of South America, yet the sounds of a large buffalo-hide drum are clearly audible for fifteen to twenty miles on a still night. The Koroks of our far north west used a square drum, the Zunis had bowl-shaped pottery drums that were beaten with a peculiar light scroll-shaped "stick". Several tribes had drums no deeper than barrel-hoops. Many of the most popular, as well as the "medicine" drums were the size of tambourines with heads permanently attached, while the Pottawattomies had a remarkable water drum that was filled with water when used. The rattles varied even more than the drums, for aside from certain forms restricted to definite ceremonial and dance use, each tribe had typical forms, while, in addition, individual ideas and taste resulted in rattles of every conceivable form, size and material. There were gourd rattles, wooden rattles, rattles of rawhide, and of turtle-shells. Very often rawhide rattles would be made in the forms of frogs, turtles, birds, etc. and entire turtles, with the head and neck forming the handles, were used. A special form of ring-shaped rawhide rattle was used solely during the sun-dance of the poncas, and rattles containing sacred or "medicine" seeds were restricted to certain cermonial and ''medicine" uses.

ALTHOUGH most persons visualize an Indian's home as a conical “wigwam” of bark, or a "tipi" of skins, the Indians used a great many other kinds of houses. Many of our eastern tribes lived in well-built log houses, usually banked with dead leaves, grass, etc., during the winter. Some made huts of stones and clay and many used houses of bark slabs lashed or sewn to a framework of poles. The form varied, some being cylindrical and dome-roofed, others rectangular with an arched roof and others with gabled roofs. The Indians of the Middle West also used permanent houses of wood thatch or other material that were rectangular in form, as well as sod houses. The nomadic plains tribes were partial to the conventional tipi, for it was readily set up or taken down; it could be transported easily from place to place; it was commodious, comfortable, and weatherproof, even in the most severe winter weather. However tipis were not universally used by the far western tribes. The Navajo and some of the other desert tribes the Southwest, dwelt in partially dugout homes with an "upper story" of timbers covered with sods.

The Pueblos, of course, had their adobe dwellings and quite a number tribes used regular sod huts. In fact there was almost as much diversity among Indians' homes as among Indian weapons, moccasins or other artifacts.

Although to a person “not in know", as we might say, a Sioux in full costume might be indistinguishable from a Blackfoot, an Arapaho, Pawnee, or a Crow, a Ute, a Cheyenne, or any one of a dozen plains tribes, yet to another Indian, or to a person familiar with the Indians, there would be certain details of dress that would instantly identify the tribe of the wearer. The cut of the garments, the length and type of fringes, the style of breech-cloth and, perhaps most important of all, the type and designs of the ornamental bead and quill ornamentation.

The Sioux for example, used geometrical patterns almost exclusively, although these were often worked into conventionalized but recognizable figures of men, women, birds, various beasts, mountains, trees, and other natural objects. The Blackfeet, Cheyennes and most of the other plains tribes were also partial to geometrical forms of beadwork but often combined these with curves, scrolls, or semi-floral designs; the Utes were fond of broad bands of beadwork, the Sans Arcs combined floral patterns with squares, straight lines and geometrical figures, star-shaped designs and rosettes of curved lines and semi-circles.

The Arikaras were partial to long lines and elongated rectangles of solid colors. Many of the Assiniboin bead-work designs were composed of circles. The Pottawattomies, Menonimes, Chippewas, and neighboring tribes, employed unmistakable elaborate designs of involved geometrical figures totally unlike those of the plains tribes. Most of the tribes of the Midwest—the Osages, Kansas, Sauks and Foxes, Shawnees, and Winnebagos—preferred floral designs sometimes combined with a few geometrical figures, while practically all of the eastern tribes used floral designs exclusively. Which tribe made the best and most beautiful beadwork is perhaps a matter of personal taste and opinion. However, much depended upon the women who did the beadwork. Some were far more skillful than others; some had a better artistic taste for color combinations and designs; but taken all in all, I should say that the most beautiful and elaborate beadwork was that of the Shoshones. Very often a man's or woman's costume would be so completely covered with elaborate beadwork that it weighed as much as a heavy winter overcoat; and not infrequently a Shoshone's pony would be covered from head to tail—with head included— with fringed buckskin, every square inch of which was decorated with magnificent beadwork. In former times all beads were sewed on with sinew and in the finest work each bead was sewn on separately. As a rule, however, several beads were threaded and sewn on at a time. Even in their loom bead work the women or men (for many of the men did some of the best loom work) used sinews or horsehair. But today what beadwork is done— mainly to sell to tourists—is usually made on thread. Very often it is carelessly made with the "lazy squaw" stitch, and is a very poor imitation of the beautiful work with which the Indians decorated their garments in the past.

The End

Saturday, 15 December 2007

The Treasure of the Golden God



The Treasure of the Golden God

By A. Hyatt Verrill

Author of "Bridge of Light" and Others

Illustrated by MOREY

A Serial in 2 parts from Amazing Stories magazine January, February 1933; digital capture December 2007 by Doug Frizzle

We are sure that our readers will be delighted to see the name of A. Hyatt Verrill once more on our pages. This story, like many others by the same author, touches on South America and the Indians and the jungle. It tells of El Dorado and the golden treasures that Sir Walter Raleigh and so many others searched for in the New World in old times.

WHAT do you make of those?" Thornton asked, as he tossed two bits of shining yellow metal upon the table. Belmont, the mining engineer, picked up the objects and examined them curiously. They were obviously gold; thin, crescent-shaped; perhaps two inches in length by an inch in width, and with small eyes or rings at the points of the crescents.

"They're gold of course," he replied. "Indian ornaments of some sort, I should say."

"Yes, you're right both times," laughed Thornton. "But do you realize that you are holding something which no white man since Raleigh's day has ever seen? Those things, Frank, are the 'gold moons' that Sir Walter Raleigh reported having seen in the noses of Guiana Indians."

"Jove, is that so!" exclaimed the other. "Discovered a lost tribe, eh? Bully for you. What were they, freaks, cannibals or Amazons?"

"Neither," declared the explorer, who had recently returned from months in the interior of Guiana and Brazil, and who was dining with his old college chum.

"The people who wore these," he continued, "are quite ordinary in as far as appearances go. But they prove that Raleigh was right, and, this is what may interest you, the tribe that uses the moons has a secret, unlimited supply of gold."

"What?" cried the engineer, instantly interested. "I suppose you mean that they have a rich placer mine. Now you're talking business, old man."

"I thought that would wake you up," laughed the explorer. "I can't say as to the placer. Did you ever hear of El Dorado and the City of Manoa?"

"Can't say I'm familiar with the town," replied Belmont, "but El Dorado was the chap who was supposed to put on a spring suit of gold dust each year, and for whom Raleigh was searching."

"The same," assented Thornton, "and Manoa was the name of the city over which El Dorado was supposed to reign. According to Raleigh, Manoa was as nearly a 'golden city' as can be imagined,—walls, buildings, utensils all gold, and with gold nuggets the 'biggenesse of egges', to use Raleigh's words, to be picked up about the shores of the city's lake front."

"Fine!" ejaculated Belmont. "But don't try to make me believe you've found it or him. I'm ready to swallow almost any yarn about the places you've been, but those myths have been exploded long ago."

"Have they?" queried the other, raising his eyebrows. "So had the 'myth' of the gold moons—until I found these. No, Frank, I don't claim to have located Manoa or El Dorado, but just because they have not been found does not prove they do not or did not exist. Moreover,—" here the explorer lowered his voice and bent towards his companion, "I actually believe the Indians who use these ornaments have found Manoa!"

"Whew!" whistled the engineer. "Now let's get this straight, Ned. Let me have the whole thing in a nutshell. Then I can judge whether it's a pipe dream or is really a hard and cold proposition. Just give me the facts."

"Do you remember that I told you about a vast unknown district in the interior of Guiana which I intended to explore?" asked Thornton.

Belmont nodded. "It’s an area larger than Massachusetts and Connecticut together," he continued, "and I've always wanted to explore it. On this last trip I managed to reach that district. Started in from a Taruma village on the Essequibo, and crossed Savanna country to the Pianoghottos, a tribe no white man had ever visited before.

"They lived on the border of the unknown territory, but I couldn't induce one of them to go with me. Like all Savanna tribes they dreaded the forest and believed it full of devils and fabulous monsters. However, they told me of another tribe called Aurimeonas who were forest people and had a village on the edge of the Savanna. While we were talking, two of these tribesmen arrived. And the instant I saw them, I knew I'd made the discovery of my life. Both wore those gold moons in their noses. I had no trouble in getting the specimens by trade, but I couldn't get much information regarding anything in their district. You see it was a three-sided conversation. I spoke Akawoia to one of my Tarumas, he interpreted to the Pianoghottos, and they had to retell everything to the Aurimeonas. But I did discover that they had plenty of gold. The upshot of it all was that I made arrangements to go with them to their village, but, before we could start, the rains came on, my boat captain came down with fever, and I was forced to turn back."

"So that's all," commented Belmont. "Too bad; but I don't see as you have any very definite information, certainly not enough to warrant going after the supposed source of gold. Just because you find a couple of wild Indians wearing gold nose ornaments you mustn't jump to the conclusion that they've got a bonanza or that you have located Raleigh's mythical city. To finance an expedition on the strength of what you've told me would be the most hare-brained sort of a gamble."

Thornton smiled. "That, as a lawyer might say, is my only direct evidence," he said, "but there's something more. Raleigh, in his 'Discoverie of Guiana' says, 'bye the Wariemetona I hadde knowledge that on the heade of this ruler were three mighty nations which were seated on a great lake from whence this ruler descendeth and that if wee entered the land through the mountains wee should satisfy ourselves with golde'."

"Well, what of it?" demanded the other. "Maybe they told him and maybe they didn't. And if they did they probably lied or exaggerated."

"That's not the point," declared the explorer. "No one since Raleigh's day has ever seen or heard of the Wariemetonas in order to verify his statements. Now cudgel your brains, old man, and see if you catch my drift. Do you notice anything familiar about that name —Wariemetona?"

Belmont wrinkled his brows and thought deeply. "Why, no—" he began, and then suddenly slapped his thigh and jerked upright. "By Jove, yes!" he cried. “Those Indians with the gold moons,—what did you call them?"

"You've guessed it," chuckled Thornton. "The Aurimeonas,—one and the same tribe. The nearest that Raleigh could come to the gutteral Indian sounds was 'Wariemetona.' Not a doubt of it in my mind. I've located the tribe who told Raleigh the story of Manoa."

"Then why the deuce didn't you ask them about it?" demanded Belmont.

"Because I'm wise enough not to," replied Thornton. "As soon as a white man begins asking an Indian about gold, the aborigine shuts up like a clam. Besides, I didn't need to, there were the gold moons,—and there was this."

As he ceased speaking, he drew a package from his pocket and tossed it into his friend's lap.

"Ouch!" ejaculated the engineer. "Go easy! What in thunder's in that, it's as heavy as lead." Then, as he pulled open the wrappings, his eyes widened and he stared incredulously at the contents. "Well, I'll be damned!" he cried. Gleaming dully in his hand was a huge, polished, egg-shaped mass of virgin gold, pierced near one end and threaded with a fibre cord on which were strung a score of smaller nuggets, the whole weighing over ten pounds.

"Yes, I'll be damned!" he reiterated, utterly unable to find other words to express his feelings.

"Just what I said when I saw one of those Indians wearing that gew-gaw," grinned Thornton.

"Ned," said Belmont after a long pause during which his eyes never strayed from the marvellous barbaric necklace. "I may be as big a fool as there is, but no mining man with an atom of gambling spirit in his makeup could see those nuggets and not bite. Nuggets like these don't grow on every bush, and they don't grow alone. El Dorado may be all bunk, but there's nothing mythical about these beauties. I'm with you, old man. When do you start?"

Far up the Essequibo, a spoon-bottomed river boat was being urged against the swift current by four naked Indians. Perched on the prow was the Arekuna bowman, grasping his big paddle and swinging the boat to right or left between jagged huge black rocks. In the stem stood the half-Indian, half-negro captain with his huge steering paddle in its bight of rope, and beneath an arched palm-thatched shelter sat Thornton and Belmont.

New York and civilization seemed very distant. For five weeks Belmont and Thornton had been traveling up the river through unbroken jungle, forcing a way through rapids and cataracts, camping beneath the giant trees at night, and now they were nearing King William's Falls and their boat journey was almost at an end.

Presently, from far ahead, came a low roar, and, rounding a bend, a vast, flashing cataract came into view, barring the river from shore to shore.

"Can't go any further," announced Thornton, "and I for one won't be sorry to stretch my legs ashore. Beyond this place," he explained to Belmont, "the river's one cataract after another. And it's not a long walk to the first Taruma village. This is the route I followed on my last trip."

Rapidly the boat was unloaded and camp was made. The craft was secured in a sheltered cove, and the rest of the afternoon the men busied themselves dividing the cargo into packages which could be carried on their backs. Only the more important and essential things were to be taken, the rest being left until Indian carriers could be sent from the Taruma village.

Early the following morning, camp was broken, the men shouldered their loads in "surianas" or pack baskets, and the party plunged into the forest, following a faint trail. The country was rough and broken, great rocks were piled everywhere and going was difficult. But by noon the worst was over, the trail led across rolling hills through open forest, and late in the afternoon, they reached the edge of the jungle and looked out across a far reaching savanna broken by thickets and clumps of trees, fantastic rock masses and marshy swales, and with a large Indian village in plain sight. Just before sundown they came to a large cleared space in the centre of which was the mud-walled thatched houses of the Tarumas.

Wild and savage as the Indians appeared, naked but for loin-cloths, painted and tattooed, with long black hair falling over their shoulders, yet the Tarumas were friendly and welcomed the white men cordially. Food was brought to them, they were given a vacant hut, and the welcoming calabash of "paiwarrie" was passed around.

"Isn't this the stuff they make by spitting chewed cassava into a trough?" asked Belmont, as he looked disgustedly at the yellowish-gray mess proffered him.

"Right you are," replied Thornton, "but it's not bad." As he spoke, he lifted the calabash to his lips and took a long draught of the liquor.

"I'll be hanged if I touch it!" exclaimed the other, as he started to dash the contents of the calabash on the ground.

Thornton caught his wrist. "You'll be worse than hanged if you don't," he declared in sharp, incisive tones. "It's a deadly insult to refuse. We'll never get beyond this place if you don't drink this paiwarrie. For Heaven's sake, man, don't be so confoundedly squeamish. Take only a sip if you can't stomach any more."

Belmont frowned, made a wry face, and with a muttered curse took a swallow of the ceremonial liquor. "Don't taste as rotten as I expected," he admitted with a grin, as he returned the calabash to the waiting girl.

Then followed the long established custom of the bush; Thornton presenting the chief and the others with gifts of tobacco, beads and cloth, and thus having established good fellowship, he stated his business and requested guides and carriers, speaking with the aid of Joseph, the Arekuna bowman, as interpreter.

Having already visited the Tarumas on his previous trip, Thornton was regarded as something of an old friend, and he had no difficulty in securing women to go back to the boat and bring up the supplies left there. But it was by no means as easy to secure guides and carriers to go into the interior. The old chief was quite willing to supply young men as guides and women as porters, as far as the nearest Pianoghotto village, but beyond that, he declared, no Taruma would venture. But as this was fully as much as Thornton had expected, he was quite satisfied.

At dawn the women, accompanied by the boat-captain, trudged off on the trail leading to the river, and late in the afternoon, they returned, each with her load of one hundred pounds, and carrying it as though it were a mere trifle.

"Some flappers," commented Belmont, as the women came trotting into the village, laughing and joking. "Lucky thing the girls back home haven't adopted Taruma costumes yet. Good Lord, think of seeing Broadway or Fifth Avenue with the girlies decked out in bead aprons and necklaces only! And how in thunder they manage those loads, beats me. Why, they're no bigger than ten year old kids, and what they're toting would stump a burro."

Thornton laughed. "All in getting accustomed to it," he replied. "Same as seeing the ladies going about like Mother Eve."

Daybreak two days later saw the expedition depart. Leaving the four Indian paddlers behind to look after the boat and such of the outfit as would not be needed on the overland journey, the two white men, with the boat-captain, Walters, Joseph the Arekuna interpreter, and a dozen women carriers, filed off along the trail, following two husky Taruma bucks who served as guides.

The march across the savanna was long and dreary. Pollen was dislodged from flowers and coarse, high grass, filled eyes, nostrils and throats. The sun beat down relentlessly from a cloudless sky, and Belmont longed for the cool shade and moist air of the jungles long before noon of the first day.

The noonday halt, however, was scarcely a relief, for the scanty shadow of the low thorny palmettos was like a furnace, the water in the canteens was lukewarm, and Belmont was too thirsty and tired to relish food. He had crossed the western deserts, had climbed mountains, had tramped for days through dense woods and across frozen tundra, but never before had he felt so thoroughly exhausted. Thornton, however, seemed tireless and as fresh as ever. He swung along, keeping pace with the Tarumas, now and then humming a tune or whistling gaily, and Belmont, gritting his teeth, endured and suffered but gave no outward indication of his feelings. At last the sun swung towards the western horizon, camp was made in a sheltered swale, and the Indians quickly built tiny huts of Etah palm and canes.

"Now what in blazes do they need those for?" asked Belmont throwing himself into his hammock. "Gad, it's hotter than the hinges of Hades in the open,—let alone those kennels, and not a sign of rain."

Thornton laughed. "You'll be glad enough to crawl into one of them before long," he declared.

"Not on your life," insisted the engineer, wiping his reeking face. "Me for right here in the open air."

But half an hour later, he changed his mind. As darkness came upon the savanna, a cold wind came sweeping across the plains, a wind that chilled the white men to the bone and sent the Indians, shivering, to huddle about their fires.

"You're right," admitted Belmont, as he rummaged in his pack for coat and blanket. "Me for my kennel."

The second day was a repetition of the first, although Belmont did not feel it so badly, but on the third the savanna became greener, pools and ponds were frequent, and were swarming with teal, ducks, curlew and other wild fowl, and forgetting all else, Belmont spent the noon hour by decimating the teeming game. Then, by mid-afternoon, the party reached open spaces, where the grass had been burned away and where vegetables and cassava were growing.

"Not far to the village now," announced Thornton. "These are the Pianoghottos' gardens."

An hour later, the conical-roofed houses of the village were in sight, showing clearly against a dark background of heavy forest a mile beyond them.

"This is as far as I went, last trip," remarked the explorer, as they approached the village.

"And here's where you got those moons and that Golconda necklace, I suppose," said Belmont.

"Right you are," replied Thornton. "I wish those Aurimeona boys were here now."

Their arrival was announced by the yelping of innumerable half-starved curs, and the Pianoghotto men turned out in full force to see who was visiting them. Thornton was instantly recognized by the villagers, the guides and carriers were well known friends, and the party was welcomed as hospitably as by the Tarumas. This time Belmont did not hesitate to partake liberally of the paiwarrie, which despite its uninviting appearance, he found most refreshing.

In the morning, when the explorer endeavored to secure carriers to continue on his journey, he found as he expected that the Pianoghottos were very loth to accompany the party. The country beyond, they declared, waving their arms indefinitely towards the forest, was the abiding place of devils and evil beings, and they also appeared to have an inherent fear of the Aurimeonas.

For a space it seemed as if the expedition was to prove a dismal failure almost at the start. As he was arguing, coaxing, trying by every means to persuade the Indians to go along, a party of three hunters arrived, carrying a couple of small deer. After listening for a few moments, one of the three stepped forward and offered his services as a guide. He was, it appeared half Aurimeona and while, like the others, he spoke with superstitious dread and evident fear of the forest devils, yet he was in no fear of crossing the savanna to his mother's village. Once he had secured one man, Thornton made progress. Beads, cloth and knives were liberally bestowed, and three Pianoghottos agreed to join his party. But nothing would induce others to go, nor could he persuade the Tarumas to travel farther into the unknown territory.

"It's the best we can do," declared the explorer. "We'll have to cut down on the outfit. We can only take the most essential things and leave the rest here. If we need the stuff later we can send carriers back for it. These Indians are absolutely honest so that nothing will be disturbed."

Accordingly, the loads were divided, everything not absolutely necessary was left with the Pianoghottos, and with the four men, Joseph and Walters each carrying a load as heavy as they could manage, and with the two white men also laden with heavy packs, the little party of eight men started into the unknown. For four days they tramped across unending savannas, but as the grass was fresh and the soil moist there was no particular hardship. This the explorers knew was unmapped territory. No white man had ever before seen it, and as they traveled towards the distant forest, Thornton took copious notes and bearings, made rough sketches and constantly paused to examine vegetation, soil and rock outcrops. Once, during the noonday rest, as he was cracking bits of reddish stone he had collected, the half Aurimeona guide watched him with evident interest. Then, turning to Joseph, he spoke a few words in an Indian dialect.

"He tellum plenty rockstone like so, topside Aurimeona way," the Arekuna translated. "Him say rock-stone all same caracuri."

"Listen to that, Frank," cried Thornton, "I'd like to know exactly what he meant by 'caracuri'. That's their word for gold, but it also means red or yellow. It was that double meaning that fooled Raleigh so often. But these are auriferus rocks, and perhaps this fellow means gold."

"By Jove!" exclaimed Belmont, instantly attentive. "You're right, these rocks are mineralized. Just cross-question the boy, Ned. I guess we're on the right track."

Addressing Joseph, the explorer spoke to him in the strange "talky-talky" used by all the semi-civilized Guiana tribes. "What side he catchum rockstone like so?" he asked. "How long time makeum walk that side?"

Joseph spoke rapidly to the other and the latter replied at length. "He say Aurimeona feller, Peaiman (medicine-man) catchum same kind," he translated. "Peaiman feller make walk in bush, him no 'fraid devil. Him good friend devil. Him makeum fire all some rockstone one kind. Makeum ring, makeum beads all some caracuri. Aurimeona feler no sabby where findum."

Thornton whistled. "There you are!" he exclaimed. "He does mean gold. No doubt about it. He says they make beads and rings of the metal, and as we know, they have the moons and gold beads. But I'm stumped by what he says about their medicine-man making fire with stone. It must be the old fellow's got hold of some iron pyrite and strikes fire with it. Darned funny if he has, though. As far as known, no Indian tribe ever discovered the trick. He's a foxy old beggar I'll bet, and no doubt his people have a holy respect for him. No wonder they think he's a friend of the devils."

"It'll help us more if he's a good friend to us," declared the engineer. "And you were wrong about one thing, Ned. These Indians don't seem to mind talking about gold."

"That's because they've never dealt with white men before," explained the other. "They don't know us yet."

A little later that day the party came to a fair sized stream, and instantly Thornton uttered an exclamation of surprise. "See anything peculiar about this creek?" he asked.

Belmont studied the stream intently. "No," he replied presently. "That is, unless that it's clear and not brown like the rivers. What do you see that's strange ?"

"It flows east," declared the explorer. "That proves we've crossed the divide that separates the Essequibo from the New River valley,—unless this creek swings to the west again."

"I don't see anything very remarkable about crossing the divide," said Belmont. "We'd never have known it, if you hadn't spotted this brook."

"Nothing remarkable, I admit," agreed Thornton. "But we're the first white men who have ever done so, and—" here he paused and swept his arm towards the little stream in mock ceremony, "Behold! You are now gazing upon a new river; are about to cross it in fact. Permit me to christen it in honor of a good sport even if he is lacking in a sense of romance. My friend, gaze upon Belmont River."

The engineer burst into hearty laughter. "Thanks awfully!" he cried, catching the other's bantering spirit. "I'm tremendously honored. Not much of a river, perhaps, but I can imagine that eventually it becomes a raging torrent and well worthy of the distinguished name you have bestowed upon it. Sir, I thank you!"

With a flourish, Belmont bowed low to the explorer. The next instant he and Thornton were fairly roaring with merriment, as they saw the rapt, puzzled expressions on the faces of the Indians, who, apparently, thought the two white men were going through some mystical religious ceremony.

Soon after crossing the stream, the guide broke into a dog trot, declaring that the Aurimeona village was just ahead. Elated, the others hurried after him, and within the hour, the cluster of huts was reached. Instantly, at sight of the strangers, the women and children scurried out of sight, and even the men drew back as if half-afraid and wholly suspicious of the new comers. But the next moment, the two who had traded their ornaments to Thornton, recognized him, and stepping forward, greeted the explorer. At a few words from these two the others gained confidence and welcomed the travelers, though still gazing at the white men as though they were amazing beings from another world. Suddenly Thornton grasped his companion's arm. "Look there!" he exclaimed. "Now will you believe?"

"Jove! He's a regular walking gold mine!" cried Belmont, as he stared at the Indian whom the explorer had pointed out, and who was fairly loaded down with golden arm and leg bands, necklets of nuggets, and a gold fillet about his thick black hair.

"And every mother's son of them is wearing gold moons!" continued Thornton. "It makes me feel as if—"

His sentence was interrupted by the appearance of a strange figure pushing through the little circle of Indians. He was old and wrinkled, with an enormous head and fat paunch, and his face and body were decorated with a maze of geometrical designs in red, black, yellow and white. On his head he wore a magnificent halo-like leather crown, and to the fringe and strings dangling from it, were attached a score of the gorgeous orange skins of the Cock-of-the-Rock. About his neck and shoulders were string after string of jaguar and peccary teeth, rattling seeds and iridescent beetle wings. About his neck was a collar of parrot feathers, and through the septum of his nose was a bone spindle with the ends decorated with long, bright colored feathers and tufts of scarlet toucan down, while from his lower lip dangled a six inch tassel of red and yellow plumes. In one hand he carried a stout carved staff ornamented with gay leathers, tufts of fur and festoons of seeds, and in the other hand he held a huge calabash rattle.

Even Belmont recognized him as the medicine-man or Peaiman, and both Americans gazed at him fascinated, for a full dozen of the gold crescents were suspended from his nose, lips and ears, while about his wrists and ankles were strings of immense nuggets.

"Talk about El Dorado!" cried Belmont. "That old boy comes as near it as I ever expect to see."

"He's the fellow our guide told about," declared Thornton. "And as crafty as they're made, or I'm no judge of Indians."

With weird glances and contortions, the Peaiman approached the white men, banging his staff on the ground, shaking his rattle, and jabbering away in his own lingo. Turning to Joseph, Thornton directed him to tell the old fellow that they were friends, that they had brought presents for the Peaiman and his people, and that they wished to explore the forest. This of course, the Arekuna was obliged to translate to one of the Pianoghottos, and before he could do so the old medicine-man burst into cackling laughter. Then, to the utter amazement of Thornton and Belmont, he began speaking in talky-talky. "Me tellum plenty good feller," he exclaimed. "Me like-um. Me tellum what him wantum can do. Me tellum Peaiman all same good friend."

As he spoke he extended a claw-like hand, and speechless with surprise to find that this man, whom they had supposed had never seen a white man, understood and used the garbled English dialect, Thornton and Belmont gravely shook hands with him.

At last the explorer recovered sufficiently from his surprise to find his voice. "We good friend, all same Aurimeona," he assured the medicine-man. "Peaiman plenty good feller, Bimeby me say what me wantum. How come Peaiman sabby talky-talky?"

Instantly the Indian's expression changed, and a cunning leer swept over his features. "Peaiman sabby all things," he replied. "S'pose wantum rain, me tellum, he come. S'pose wantum fire, me catchum."

"He's a wily old rascal, all right," chuckled the engineer. "Knows how to chatter talky-talky by occult powers, and claims to be a rain maker. Some nerve!"

The medicine-man meanwhile was fumbling in a leather pouch at his belt, and presently he drew out a bit of rock and a lump of dull gray metal.

"Guess he's going to give a demonstration of his fire-making," said the explorer.

Placing a bit of tinder on the rock, the Peaiman struck the pebble with the metal. A shower of sparks flew off and the tinder glowed and smoked.

A sigh-like murmur of wonder and adoration rose from the assembled Indians at this proof of their Peaiman's supernatural powers, and the old fellow looked triumphantly at the white men as if to say, "Beat that if you can."

"I'll be damned!" ejaculated Belmont. "You were right about his knowing the use of flint and steel, Ned."

"I'll bet he never discovered it," declared the other. "That old fakir has lived among white men. But do you see what he's using for steel? It's a bit of a meteoritel" Then, as he took a box of matches from his pocket, Thornton remarked: "Now watch me give him a jolt" As he spoke, he struck a match and held it up for all to see.

He had expected a look of wonder, if not of abject terror, on the Indians' faces. Instead, they showed no signs of either interest nor surprise. To all outward appearances they might have used safety matches all their lives, and the old medicine-man cackled derisively.

"Aurimeona gottum plenty same kind!" he exclaimed, and from his pouch he produced a box of matches!

"Well, I'll be shot!" ejaculated Thornton. "They have been in contact with civilization."

"But still think flint and steel magical," added Belmont. "Gad, but they are a topsy-turvy lot."

"Wonder what they'll think of this," remarked the explorer, as he took a magnifying-glass from his pocket and held it up for the Indians to see. Then, stooping, he focused it on a wisp of dry grass. Intently the Peaiman and his fellows watched, and as the dry material smoked and burst into flame, a half-frightened veil of surprise and wonder rose from their throats.

"I rather guess that fire eclipses the one of his magic stone," laughed the explorer, as he pocketed the lens. "I'll wager that the old fellow would tell all he knows in exchange for that glass."

It was obvious that the medicine-man was envious. It would never do to have visitors who could perform magic he could not equal, and he fairly fawned upon the white men, muttering flattering and complimentary things, jabbering in a mixture of Aurimeona and talky-talky, but never for an instant taking his beady eyes from the pocket that held the magic glass. At last, leading the two men to a new hut, he informed them it was theirs. Food and paiwarrie passed around, and as the Indians gathered about, Thornton distributed presents.

At once it became evident that even if the Peaiman had been in contact with civilization, his people had not. The Indians were absolutely at a loss as to the use or purpose of many of Thornton's gifts, and the cloth, beads, pins and knives brought forth squeals of amazement and delight.

"If they have never met white men, how the deuce does it happen that they have iron and other things?" asked Belmont. "Their arrows have iron tips, the men have knives and machetes, and there's a cracked porcelain plate over in the corner of the hut."

"Probably traded such things through other tribes," replied Thornton, "or maybe the Peaiman brought them in. On one trip I found a village where the people still used stone implements and yet had breach-loading shotguns."

The distribution of the presents having been completed, the explorer began quizzing the medicine-man regarding the forest and the possibility of securing guides to go into it. The old fellow, however, insisted that to enter the jungle beyond a short distance was impossible. Through it, he declared, there ran a large river, and beyond the stream no man could go, as it was the home of devils and evil spirits. If the white men wished to go to the river's bank his men would guide them; but beyond that, no. Then he naively asked why they desired to enter the forest, and what they sought.

"Same old bunk about the devil-devils." exclaimed Belmont. "Tell him we're looking for his——"

"Hold on, let me handle this, Frank," interrupted the other. Then, turning again to the Peaiman, Thornton assured him that they merely wanted to explore the forest and map the river, and he asked the fellow about the size and flow of the stream. All of this was, to the impatient engineer, a waste of time and of no consequence.

The Indian, however, either could not or would not give the desired information. The river was swift, he said. It was not "too wide," and it might be crossed if it were not for the devils beyond. Also, he declared, it flowed through a "hole in the ground," according to tradition, although he did not know about this personally.

"He's still suspicious," declared Belmont, "and he knows a lot more about that district than he admits. I’ll bet his placer is beyond that river. Why don't you ask him flat? What's the use of beating about the bush?"

"Yes, I think he knows all right," agreed Thornton. "Now I'm going to spring a surprise on him."

Turning to the medicine-man he abruptly demanded to know how, if the woods were full of devils, the Peaiman could go there safely.

A guilty look of surprise swept across the fellow's wrinkled features, he fidgeted, and at last evaded a direct answer by asking why the white man thought he had ever been there. Thornton leaned forward and touched the nuggets about the Peaiman's ankles, pointed to the pouch containing the stone and meteorite, and gazed fixedly into the Indian's eyes. "Me tellum Peaiman catchum caracuri that place," he declared. "Me sabby Peaiman gettum fire rockstone topside river."

The medicine-man drew back, glanced furtively about, and then, as if realizing that he could not hoodwink the white men, he vowed that he was friendly with the devils, that he possessed charms which rendered them powerless to harm him, and then, to cap the climax, he offered to guide the two to the spot where he secured the gold in exchange for the magic moon that made fire.

"Bully for old Billikins!" cried the engineer. "He's no fool. That lens is a better bet for him than all the gold and iron."

"I think I begin to see daylight," mused Thornton. "He keeps up that devil business to prevent his people from following him into the bush; plays on their superstitions for his own ends. And now that the magic of the flint and steel performance is beginning to be an old story, he's anxious to make any sort of a deal in order to get some new magic. I expect the river he talks about is the Belmont River."

"Hang the river!" laughed the other. "Let's get after the gold. Ask the old rascal if we can start tomorrow."

But the Peaiman shook his head at this suggestion. He would hear nothing of such a plan, and insisted that there must be time for preparations; that the Indians must have a feast and must celebrate the visit of the white men and the riches they had acquired, and that, to start off without first propitiating; the evil spirits, would result in disaster.

It was hopeless to argue or to coax. The medicine man was obdurate, and despite Belmont's impatience, Thornton convinced him that the only course to follow was to fall in with the Peaiman's plans.

"He may back out altogether if we don't," he declared. "Although he plays on the Indians' superstitions for his own benefit, he's as superstitious as any of them himself, and we've got to humor him."

At nightfall the celebration began. The Indians, dressed in all their ceremonial finery of feather crowns, mantles of plumes, rattles and dance-sticks, and with bodies and faces hideously painted, pranced and cavorted to the fitful glare of the bonfires and the throbbing booming of drums. Savage as they appeared, yet the Aurimeonas were good natured, happy and full of fun, and presently they insisted that the white men must join in the revels.

Thornton, long familiar with Indian ways, at once assented, donned a feather headdress, seized a dance-stick, and was soon shouting and prancing with the best of them. But Belmont held off. He felt self-conscious. thought the whole affair tom-foolery, and vowed he'd be hanged if he'd make an ass of himself.

"Forget it!" shouted the explorer, as he paused in the dance. "It'll please the Indians. We want to make ourselves as solid as possible with them. Just forget you're a staid and dignified New Yorker and turn savage for a while. It's not one half as ridiculous as the rot and nonsense you put on at your lodge initiations."

Reluctantly the engineer agreed. But he soon entered into the spirit of the fun, until presently everyone,— the half-breed boat captain, Joseph, the two white men and the Pianoghottos were prancing and yelling, while the old Peaiman never seemed to tire, but was the liveliest of his tribe.

It was strenuous work, however, and before long Belmont dropped out of the circle. Thornton followed, and slipping away unnoticed to their hut, they tumbled into their hammocks.

Suddenly Belmont commenced to laugh.

"What's the joke?" asked the explorer.

"I was just wondering," replied the engineer, "what my office force would think if they should see me cavorting about with those savages."

"The answer's easy," chuckled Thornton. "They'd think you were crazy."

"Confound the rascals!" exclaimed Thornton, as he stepped from the hut the following morning. "I was afraid this would happen."

Belmont sprang from his hammock and hurried outside. "What's up now?" he cried. "Anything wrong?"

The explorer pointed to a group of women about a huge wooden trough. All were busily masticating and expectorating into the receptacle.

"Making that filthy paiwarrie, eh," muttered the engineer. "But what of it? If they like it, why should we object? Come on, let's rout up Billikins and start off."

"If we get him started in a week from now, we'll be lucky," declared the other. "They're getting ready for a paiwarrie spree—a good big drunk, and such things often last a week or ten days."

"The devil, you say!" exclaimed Belmont. "Let's get busy and see if we can't argue some sense into their heads. Tell the Peaiman you'll go back on your bargain."

They found the medicine-man dozing in the doorway of his hut, and to all of Thornton's pleas he merely shook his head, insisting that it would be an affront to the spirits and an insult to his guests if the spree were abandoned. Arguments, threats, promises, were all useless. A paiwarrie feast was a part of the programme, and nothing could change the Indians' plans.

At last Thornton gave up in despair. "It's no use," he announced. "We've got to make the best of it. After all, a few days make little difference. If a fight doesn't start between the Aurimeonas and our Pianoghottos it won't be so bad. I think I'll send our guides and carriers back and run no risk of trouble."

The Pianoghottos refused flatly to leave, however. They had no intention of missing the spree, and finding there was nothing he could do in the matter, the explorer seated himself in the shadow of the hut, lit his pipe and morosely watched the preparations of the Indians.

The trough of chewed cassava had now been filled with water and left to ferment until it acquired the desired kick, and the Indians loafed about, lazing and sleeping, and abandoning all occupations as they waited for the day to pass and the spree to begin. Naturally, the two white men were virtual prisoners until the orgy was over, for without guides or carriers they could go nowhere. But there was nothing to prevent them from wandering wherever they desired, and Thornton suggested that they should do a little exploring by themselves. This suited the engineer, and together they started off. Before they had gone a dozen yards, Joseph joined them, declaring that he would take no part in the spree, and explaining that his chief had forbidden the use of paiwarrie by any member of his village, owing to the fact that his people had been nearly exterminated by an orgy in the past.

"Prohibition chap, eh," laughed Belmont. "Well, I'm glad we can count on one sober man. I never thought I'd be a dry advocate, but I am here. But how in blazes could paiwarrie wipe out the Indians?"

"Kenaima," replied Thornton. "If an Indian gets drunk and a fight starts and a man is killed, Indian law demands that the murderer and every member of his family must be destroyed. Moreover, this vengeance must be carried out by the Kenaima, a man who, by certain rites, is believed to be possessed with the Kenaima or blood-avenger spirit. He may be either a tiger Kenaima or a 'camudi' (snake) Kenaima, but in either case he must track down and destroy his victim in certain prescribed ways; by striking with a club if a tiger-Kenaima or by strangulation if a camudi-Kenaima. Also, during the time he is on the man-hunt, he must not see or speak to a living being, for according to Indian belief, if he does so he must kill the unfortunate person he meets. When he at last succeeds in his purpose he must thrust a stick through the body of his victim and lick the blood from it in order to restore himself to the status of an ordinary human being. Otherwise, he believes he will forever be in possession of the Kenaima spirit and will run amuck, killing all he meets."

"Nice, cheerful sort of beggar," commented Belmont. "But I don't see yet how the evening of scores in that way would kill off a whole tribe. And what's to prevent the chasee turning the tables and killing the chaser?"

"Nothing to prevent that, except the superstitions of the Indians, their firm belief in the supernatural character of the Kenaima, and the fact that if one avenger is destroyed another immediately takes up, the chase," replied Thornton. "It's hopeless for an Indian murderer to evade death by a Kenaima. They've been known to trail a victim to Georgetown and kill him in the streets. The reason a village or tribe may be wiped out by a Kenaima is that the relatives of the Kenaima's victim naturally start their Kenaima after the other, and thus a feud is started which may last until every member of a community is destroyed. That's why I was anxious to be rid of our Pianoghottos. If they start fighting with the Aurimeonas when drunk, someone may be killed and a Kenaima started. Then the Lord alone knows where it will end."

"Not any chance of our getting into it, is there?" asked Belmont.

"Hardly," the other assured him. "I've never heard of a white man being trailed or killed by a Kenaima, and even the Indians could scarcely consider us the relatives of the Pianoghottos or responsible for them. However, I don't really expect there'll be serious trouble. What I fear is that the Indians will be so exhausted and ill after their spree that we'll be delayed for days or even weeks."

As they were talking, the three men had crossed the strip of savanna and had reached the edge of the forest. The moment they entered it they realized how hopeless it would be to attempt a long trip without guides. It was far more dense than any jungle they had hitherto seen; there were no visible trails or paths, and it was next to impossible to proceed in any direction without cutting a way. Nothing could be accomplished here, and retracing their steps, they wandered over the savanna towards the stream which Thornton had facetiously named in honor of his comrade. Reaching this, they followed along its banks and discovered that where it entered the forest it afforded an easy means penetrating the jungle, for the water was low and a fairly wide strip of sand and stones was exposed between the water and the tangle on the banks.

"It would be possible to follow this stream far into the forest," declared the explorer. "It is in all probability the river the Peaiman mentioned and which forms the boundary to the 'devils'’ country. But it must flow in a very circuitous route to be five days' journey from the village back there."

"Why not follow it and find out?" suggested the engineer. "We could pack quite an outfit ourselves, and Joseph could carry a load also. Walters would go with us, too, and we might strike old Billikin's mine without his help."

Thornton shook his head. "We three couldn't carry enough to last us three days, to say nothing of five," he declared. "And as far as Walters is concerned, he'll be drunker than any Indian tonight. Those half-breeds are worse than the pure bloods."

They soon found, however, that even had they been able to carry enough supplies for the journey, traveling by the bed of the stream would not be easy nor feasible. A perpendicular wall of rock barred the way, and the creek, flowing against its base, swung abruptly to the south. On the opposite shore the rocks were broken and rough, however, and it would have been possible to have proceeded farther by crossing the stream higher up. But as it was growing late, and as there was nothing to be gained by going on, the three returned to the savanna and the village.

"I'm satisfied of one thing," remarked Belmont, who had carefully examined the bed of the stream and the rock formations. "The Peaiman does not get his gold out of that river. There's some 'color' there, but I'll stake my reputation as a mining engineer that it doesn't carry any good values or large nuggets."

"I agree with you there," said Thornton. "But I still believe the medicine-man does know the location of the fabulously rich placers which his ancestors described to Raleigh."

"For my part I'm getting disgusted with the whole business," declared the engineer. "I haven't the least faith in that El Dorado or Manoa yarn. Perhaps the Peaiman found a placer or pocket, but he's probably-cleaned up all the nuggets long ago. And for all we know the gold may have been in the tribe for centuries. I'm beginning to realize what a consummate ass I was to have started on such a wild-goose chase."

Thornton laughed. "You needn't kick yourself," he said. "You've got the golden eggs the wild goose laid, at any rate. There's enough in the Aurimeona village to pay for the expedition and a mighty good profit besides. If we don't get anything else we'll trade in all the gold the Indians own."

"A few thousand, perhaps," the other grudgingly agreed. "But no fortune."

By now the sounds of shouting and yelling were audible from the village.

"They've commenced already," announced the explorer. "We'd better make ourselves as inconspicuous as possible. And remember to keep your eyes on Walters and our Pianoghottos. If trouble starts we can grab them and tie them in our hut." Then, turning to Joseph, he cautioned the Arekuna, exacted a promise not to touch the liquor, and warned him not to get into any argument with the other Indians or to take offense at anything they might do or say.

As yet, however, none of the tribesmen had taken enough paiwarrie to cause them to lose control of their senses, while the Pianoghottos and the half-breed, Walters, were standing aloof in a group by themselves.

"I hope they continue to keep together and not mix with the rest," said Thornton. "Then we can watch them more easily and corral them if they do get into trouble. Hello! Where's that half-Aurimeona fellow?"

The man, however, was nowhere in sight, and Thornton ordered Joseph to hunt him and watch him during the spree, and to bring word if he showed any signs of getting quarrelsome.

As the sun set and darkness came on, fires blazed, and hourly the Indians became more boisterous. Soon many of them were unable to walk steadily, or even to keep their feet, and threw themselves in their hammocks or upon the ground where they continued to drink. Others, still steady on their legs, began shouting boastful accounts of their bravery and prowess, and to swagger about, taunting the others and hurling insults. Little heed was given them, however, although once or twice there were half-hearted scuffles between two Indians.

Thornton and Belmont noticed also, that none of the Aurimeonas carried weapons, and were duly thankful. Even the women and children were drinking freely, and soon the entire village was involved in a debasing, disgusting orgy.

The two white men kept in the shadows, trying to follow the movements of the boat-captain and the Pianoghottos, while Joseph slipped silently here and there, watching the half-blood Aurimeona with keen eyes. Several times the women called to the Arequna and pressed him to drink. Each time Joseph craftily accepted, and pretending to drink the liquor, cast it on the ground as soon as the women turned away.

"He's all right," declared Belmont. "On the water-wagon in earnest. And I don't think there'll be any trouble after all. They all seem to be quieting down."

"Getting too drunk even to talk," commented Thornton. "Most of them lying like pigs in their sties, and so many of the women are drunk that not much paiwarrie is being passed around."

"By Jove, I have a scheme!" ejaculated the engineer. "What's to stop us from dumping the rest of the booze from the trough? The rascals are too drunk to notice anything. We can sneak up and empty the stuff and they'll think they've used it themselves."

"Good idea," agreed Thornton. "But if you or I tried it we'd be caught instantly. Well let Joseph try it. He can go to the trough with a calabash as if to help himself, and when no one is looking—Good Lord! Hell's broken loose now!"

From a knot of Indians near one of the fires, there was a chorus of shouts and a piercing scream. Instantly the group was transformed into a struggling fighting mass, and a single glance told the Americans that the Pianoghottos were in trouble.

Instantly the two men dashed forward, but before they could reach the scene of the fight, Joseph rushed to them. "Me tellum plenty bad!" he panted, wild eyed and excited. "Pianoghotto feller killum Aurimeona man. Aurimeona make for killum all Pianoghotto!"

There was no time to ask details. The white men's worst fears were realized, and murder had been done. The all important matter now was to prevent further bloodshed, and to separate the combatants before all the Pianoghottos were slain.

Forcing their way through the struggling, drunken savages, Thornton and Belmont reached the centre of disturbance. Lying on the earth was the dead Aurimeona, his head split open by a machete, and above the body stood the three Pianoghottos, the boat-captain and the half-blood Aurimeona, the latter with blood pouring from a deep cut on his shoulder. It was indeed fortunate that the Aurimeonas had not been armed, and though bent on destroying the other tribesmen, they were so befuddled that they were stupid and slow to act.

On the other hand, the Pianoghottos appeared fairly sober, and were trying to back away, while Walters guarded their retreat with a blood-stained machete in his hand, and in drunken fury was keeping the Aurimeonas at bay.

Shouting to the captain not to strike, Thornton leaped forward followed by Belmont and Joseph. But the words were hardly uttered when the captain swung his weapon on the nearest Indian and stretched him lifeless, beside his fallen tribesman.

For a brief instant the Aurimeonas drew back, and taking advantage of this, the explorer wrenched the machete from Walter's grasp, seized him by the scruff of the neck, and shouting to the others to follow, kicked and cuffed the Pianoghottos into motion, and hurried with the captain from the village. Belmont, following his comrade's example, seized the nearest Pianoghotto, and driving the half-blood Aurimcona before him, ran with Thornton into the darkness beyond the firelight. Joseph, meanwhile, had vanished, but a moment later, he came racing up carrying the engineer's gun and cartridge belt. He had realized the danger they were in without arms, and had risked his life to hurry back to the hut and secure the gun. Belmont fully appreciated the Arekuna's brave and thoughtful act, but there was no time to be lost in expressing gratitude, for even the engineer knew that all were in the deadliest peril.

The village was now in a turmoil. The Aurimeonas were mad for vengeance, and the only hope of safety lay in making the best possible speed across the savanna and trying to reach the distant Pianoghotto village before the Auromeonas had recovered their senses and their legs sufficiently to follow.

It was a desperate measure. The savanna stretched vast, black and limitless as a waveless sea before them. To enter it at night without provisions or supplies was almost suicidal, but still greater danger lay behind in the village. Suddenly, from the village, came a wailing cry, a weird, blood-curdling shout; "Kenaima! Kenaima!" At the awful word the Pianoghottos cringed and trembled, Joseph uttered a low moan and shivered, and even matter-of-fact Belmont felt a curious tingling sensation on his scalp. All knew the dreadful import of that wailing cry, and without hesitation, the fugitives plunged into the mazes of the trackless savanna.

Onward through the night they hurried, and as they went the captain and the Pianoghottos wore off the effects of the liquor, and, bit by bit, related how the trouble had started. An Aurimeona had taunted the half-blood with being a renegade. Words had followed. The Pianoghottos had taken the part of their companion. An Aurimeona had struck and wounded him in the shoulder, and the injured man had wrenched the machete from his aggressor and had killed him. Then Walters had arrived; another Aurimeona had been sacrificed, and as a result the relentless Kenaima would follow on the Pianoghottos' trail until full vengeance was meted out.

"Looks like a fond farewell to old Billikins and our gold mine," remarked Belmont, as they stumbled on and the sounds from the village became faint and were lost.

"It will be farewell to us, too, if we don't have everlastingly good luck," said Thornton grimly.

"Then you honestly believe they'll send a Kenaima after us," said the engineer.

"Not a doubt of it," the other declared positively, "there are two deaths to be avenged and the laws of blood vengeance are sacred. I'll wager a Kenaima has already started on our trail."

Involuntarily Belmont glanced behind him and clutched his gun nervously. What Thornton had told him of the Kenaima came vividly to his mind; but the blackness was impenetrable. "Don't suppose he’ll bother us, do you?" he asked as if to reassure himself. "They know we had no part in the killings."

"I wish to heaven I could think he wouldn't," burst out the explorer. "But I can't. According to Kenaima law, not only the murderers but all their families must be wiped out. Both Walters and this wounded man will be direct objects of vengeance, and as the Pianoghottos were involved, and as we helped all to escape, I'm convinced that we're all in the same boat from the Aurimeonas' point of view."

"Damned cheerful thought," growled Belmont.

"If we can reach the Essequibo and our boat, I think we'll be safe," continued Thornton. "I don't imagine the Kenaima will follow any but the actual culprits very far. But until then, death lurks in every thicket, at every turn. And there's another reason for my belief that we'll be included in the vengeance. The old Peaiman would hesitate at nothing to secure my burning glass. Not that he'd steal it, for these Indians are honest. But he knows he's lost his chances of getting it by showing us the gold, and if he can find an excuse for putting us out of the way by means of a Kenaima, he'll do it to get the magic moon, as he calls it. I shouldn't be the least surprised if the old fellow turns Kenaima himself."

"Well, he or any other damned Indian that tries any Kenaima business on me is going to get a charge of buckshot," declared the engineer. "They'll find that tackling a white man isn't like knocking a frightened Indian over the head."

"I hope it won't come to that," said Thornton. "It would only mean that we would be subjects for another avenger. But of course, if you see a Kenaima, you'll have to shoot to save these fellows' lives, or our own."

Several times, as they tramped hurriedly on in the darkness, the guide lost his way, and they wandered about aimlessly, seeking the trail. But with daylight there was less trouble, and at last they reached the little stream.

Their eyes were heavy for want of sleep. They were footsore and weary; the wounded Indian was so weak from loss of blood that he had to be half-carried by his comrades, and it was obvious that a halt must be made for a brief rest.

Carefully concealing their tracks, they turned at right angles, and pressing through the coarse grass and weeds, reached a little patch of trees in a hollow. They had no food, and although there were plenty of birds about, Belmont did not dare to shoot for fear of betraying their hiding place to possible pursuers. Joseph, however, managed to snare a trumpet-bird, and despite the danger, they made a small fire and cooked the creature. Sleep was out of the question, for all were far too nervous, too alive to their peril, to close their eyes. Weak as the wounded man was, he declared he would rather die on the way than starve in the thicket, and so, once more, they resumed their weary march.

A Pianoghotto led the way. Behind him was the wounded man supported by his fellow Indians. Behind these came Belmont, Thornton and Walters, while Joseph brought up the rear. All knew there was little fear of an attack as long as they were on the alert and moving, for the Kenaima, as Thornton had explained to Belmont, must strike his victim down by prescribed methods. Throughout the long, scorching, hot day they kept on. Their heads reeled with the sun, with lack of sleep, with hunger and thirst, and even the tireless Indians stumbled and showed signs of exhaustion. As the sun sank, Thornton insisted that they must camp for the night, for game trails crossed and recrossed the path, and to attempt to proceed in the darkness would merely mean getting hopelessly lost. So once more they turned aside, hoping to find a sheltered spot where there was water, and to obtain a better view of their surroundings, they ascended a low hill.

Joseph was the first at the summit, and as he swept his eyes about the horizon he uttered a startled cry and pointed back towards the east. Stretching across the sea of waving grass was a wall of smoke, and beneath it great tongues of flame gleamed and leaped as they devoured the dry herbage. The savanna was on fire! The wind, blowing strongly from the east, was driving the raging flames directly towards the fugitives, and each moment the dense smoke and darting flames were rushing nearer and nearer.

For a brief moment the party upon the knoll stood spellbound, gazing at this new peril. Then Thornton found voice and shouted orders.

"Tear up the grass," he yelled. "Then set fire to that on the west. It's our only chance. We must make for the forest. The Aurimeonas are trying to burn us out."

Feverishly the men tore and cut the grass and weeds from the knoll, but before it was accomplished, darkness had descended, the roar of the oncoming fire was plainly audible, and the flames illuminated the savanna with a vivid glare, while choking smoke filled the lungs of the fugitives. Lighting the encircling fringe of vegetation, the explorer and his companions crowded back as far as possible from the heat of the fire. The wind had risen, the grass burned rapidly, and before the onrushing conflagration reached within half a mile of the knoll a broad stretch of charred and blackened earth safeguarded the men. It was an old plains trick, and it had served its purpose. There was no time to lose, and though the earth still glowed in spots, and here and there a bush or small tree blazed like a torch above the smoking ground, the party dashed from their refuge and hurried towards the forest. The Indian's bare feet suffered terribly from the heated ground, cinders and sparks fell thick about them, and all were choking and coughing with smoke. Long before they reached the cool protection of the forest the wounded Indian threw himself upon the earth, rested his head upon his knees and prepared to await his end. He could go-no farther, and preferred death to the agony he was enduring.

"We can't go on and leave him here," declared Thornton. "We must manage to find some spot where there's damp earth or water and green foliage, and camp there for the rest of the night."

Joseph at once volunteered to search for a desirable location, and soon returned with the news that he had found a thicket and a small pond a short distance away. Raising the wounded Indian, and half-carrying him along the party stumbled after Joseph, and reached the little copse where the vegetation was untouched by fire. The water in the pool was black with ashes and charred leaves and was thick with mud, but to the smoke-parched throats and burning faces of the fugitives, it was marvelously welcome. A rough bed of leaves was made for the injured man, and the others, famished and weak, seated themselves dejectedly in the shelter of the stunted trees. They had had nothing to eat, with the exception of the skinny trumpet-bird, for twenty-four hours, they had tramped many miles, and had worked feverishly and beyond their strength to save themselves from the flames, but no word of complaint was uttered. If they could only manage to reach the jungle they might yet be safe, for there game could be found, seeds and nuts might serve to keep them from starvation, and provided the Kenaima did not destroy them, they might yet win their way to the Pianoghotto village and safety.

Sleep, however, was imperative, and it was agreed that first one and then another should keep watch while the rest slept. As Joseph, although the youngest of the party, appeared to be the least exhausted, he was given the first watch. Belmont handed his loaded gun to the Arekuna, threw himself on the ground, and the next instant was sound asleep, for, like the others, he was utterly exhausted. He was dimly conscious of hearing Joseph arousing the boat captain when the Indian's watch was over and then, suddenly, he awoke to full consciousness and with an involuntary yell at the sound of a gunshot and a terrifying cry.

Leaping up, he found Thornton and Joseph also aroused, while the captain stood, trembling and wild-eyed, with the still smoking gun in hand.

"Wha-la!" he exclaimed before a question could be asked. "Kenaima come! Me see he kill de sick man. Like tiger he come. Me make to shoot he, but no can do, Wha-la! Kenaima debbil for true!"

The others turned. One glance was enough. The wounded Indian was dead, his skull crushed in by a terrific blow.

"The first victim!" cried Thornton. "But where the devil are the other men?"

Then, for the first time, all realized that the other Indians were missing. There was no sign of them, and the four men stared at one another with frightened, serious faces. Without the Pianoghottos for guides they were hopelessly lost.

"They've deserted!" cried the explorer "Their fear of the Kenaima and the forest was too much for them. But thank God the avenger chose the victim he did. The poor fellow only had his life shortened by a few hours, he could not have lived through another day."

"Damn those cowardly Indians!" burst out the engineer. '"Twill serve them right if the Kenaima gets them."

"He will," declared the other. "No fear he won't. But he'll attend to us first. I'm afraid, we're handier."

"It's one hell of a feeling, this standing here like a flock of sheep waiting to be knocked over the head by that devil any minute." said Belmont.

"There's no danger for the present," Thornton assured him. "Dawn is breaking, and the Kenaima never attacks during daylight. Joseph, light a fire."

Shaking with terror, his bronze skin actually pale with fear, the Arekuna obeyed, and the cheerful blaze did much to restore courage to the four survivors.

"We must get into the bush at once," announced Thornton, as the sun rose. "Even the Kenaima is less to be dreaded than starvation, and there'll be no game on the savanna after the fire. By following the forest's edge towards the west, we may eventually reach the Pianoghotto village. It's going to be a tough job, but it's our only hope."

"Thank the Lord, or rather Joseph, that we've got a gun and plenty of cartridges," said Belmont "We won't starve if there's game to be found."

"Even with plenty of food, we're in a devilish bad fix." Thornton reminded him. "The nearest village is fully seventy-five miles away, by the most direct route. We've no supplies, blankets, hammocks nor any thing but the clothes on our backs, the few articles in our pockets, your gun and ammunition. And there's a relentless, savage, fanatical murderer doing his level best to wipe us out. But we're not done yet. I've been through some pretty tight places before now, and came out all right. Now let's hustle for the forest."

By noon the trees, with their drapery of vines and dark shady depths, were reached, and the four, half-starved, utterly exhausted men pushed their way through the dense vegetation and left the sun-baked, fire-blackened savanna behind.

For a short distance the jungle was impenetrable, and Joseph hacked and hewed a path. But once well within the forest, it was more open, and the party proceeded quietly, eyes and ears alert for any living thing that might serve as food. Birds were high in the trees, but invisible and out of gunshot, and it was not until the men had penetrated fully a mile into the woods that the barking cries of toucans were heard. Creeping forward, Belmont brought down two of the grotesque birds. Joseph rushed forward to secure the welcome game, and as he picked them up, he uttered a glad cry. "Saouri!" he exclaimed, as he exhibited an irregular, rough-shelled, enormous nut.

The Saouri or Paradise nuts, much like Brazil nuts but three times as large, were a most welcome and lucky find. As the toucans sizzled over the fire the ravenous men stayed their first pangs of hunger by devouring all the nuts they could find. They were all too few, however, and even Joseph found it impossible to climb the enormous tree and shake down more. The toucans, too, were woefully small and skinny, the two tough, stringy creatures being scarcely more than mouthfuls for the four men. But even this slender meal of nuts and toucan put new life and strength into the party, and they hurried on, trusting to finding more abundant food ahead.

Following the easiest route between the trees, peering into every thicket and tangle, and craning necks to search the trees for sloths, monkeys, parrots or any other game, they gave little heed to their surroundings. At last they came to a low, damp spot bare of undergrowth, and an agouti scuttled across the opening. At the report of the engineer's gun, the creature tumbled head over heels, and a good dinner was assured. Sunset was near, the forest was becoming dusky and dim, and as the swampy spot was no place in which to camp, they turned and made their way towards higher ground. Presently they reached a low ridge with an immense mora tree upon the summit. The base of the tree spread out in enormous slab-like buttresses extending nearly twenty feet on every side of the trunk, and between these walls of living wood a fire was built and the men prepared to spend the night. In many ways it was an ideal spot for their purpose. The tree itself provided protection on three sides, and an enemy would be forced to approach by the narrow opening between the buttresses. To be sure, there was cover which could conceal the Kenaima or anyone else, until within a few feet of the camp, but it was all small growth, and while the agouti was roasting, everyone worked, clearing a large open space about the tree. Palm leaves were spread upon the earth for beds, and the dense foliage of the mora tree provided a roof which would keep out any ordinary rain. With appetites fully satisfied for the first time in three days, the men felt quite secure, and congratulated themselves upon the way fortune had favored them since entering the forest, All realized that they must be constantly on guard, for the gunshots had most certainly betrayed their where-abouts, and arrangements were made to keep fires blazing brightly throughout the night in order to illuminate a wide area about the tree.

Thornton took the first watch, but the night passed without incident or alarm, and after breakfasting on the remains of the agouti, the party again set out. It was still very early; cries of parrots and the notes of birds filled the forest, and within ten minutes after leaving their camp, Belmont shot a pair of big green Amazons and a pheasant-like Marudi which rose with a whir from underfoot. Joseph declared it had a nest near by, and a search soon revealed its four large, blue-green eggs. Still hungry, the men stopped by a stream and ate a meal of roasted parrot and eggs, saving the pheasant for their noonday lunch. With far lighter hearts than at anytime since they had fled from the Aurimeona village, they trudged on for hour after hour. But no bright light among the trees marked the edge of the forest bordering the savanna, and at last Thornton halted. He glanced about, examined the trees and, turning to Joseph, asked him if he was sure they were headed in the right direction. Reluctantly the Arekuna admitted that he was not, and a question to the boat-captain brought the same reply.

"The devil!" exclaimed the explorer impatiently. "We're in a nice fix. We've been so intent on game that we've missed our way and are as good as lost. I should have known better and should have kept my bearings."

"It's a blamed sight better getting lost here than on the savanna," declared Belmont. "We won't starve to death here at any rate. But how in thunder can we be lost, all we've got to do is to go west? We're bound to strike the savanna in that direction."

"Surely," replied Thornton, sarcasm in his tones, "But which way is west?"

Belmont glanced about. "I'll be hanged if I know," he confessed. "Not a glimmer of sunshine; no shadows. How about moss on the trees?"

"That old scheme doesn't work in the tropics," Thornton informed him. "No, we'll have to trust to the Indian's instinct until the sun sets, we can perhaps tell by the light falling on the upper parts of the tree trunks. Meanwhile, we might as well be going one way as another, as long as we move in a straight line."

Presently Joseph announced that he thought he knew which direction was west, and following his lead, with Walters blazing the trees as they proceeded, the party went on. An hour later, the explorer again stopped them.

"We're going deeper into the bush every minute," he declared. "The sun has passed the meridian, and you can see by the light in the little opening there that we're traveling southeast. We must face about at once."

Weary and discouraged, the four retraced their way, guided by the blazed tree trunks, until the increasing dusk warned them it was time to camp. A few rods from the knoll on which they stood, there was a small brook. Several more trees were near, and feeling they might not find a better spot, preparations were at once made for passing another night. Belmont and Joseph wandered off in search of game, and near the stream secured a paca. Nothing alarming happened during the night, but rain fell towards morning and added to their discomforts, forcing them to huddle, sleepless, over the fire.

At last the faint light of dawn appeared, and as the remnants of the evening meal were being warmed over the fire, the captain rose, remarked that he was going to the stream for a drink, and stepped from sight beyond the edge of the ridge. It was but a short distance to the brook, it was almost daylight, and no one dreamed that Walters ran the least risk of danger.

Ten minutes passed. No sounds but the twittering of birds, the patter of rain drops and the subdued voices of the men broke the silence of the forest. Suddenly— soul-piercing, blood-curdling, a scream of mortal terror ripped through the still air. The three men leaped to their feet, shaking with nameless dread, speechless, frozen to the spot at the awful sound. Again and yet again the agonized shrieks rang out; each fainter than the last, to end in a long-drawn, quavering wail—the wild, hair-raising cry of the jaguar. Then silence.

Barely five seconds had passed since the first terrible scream, but to the three men it had seemed minutes. Thornton was the first to recover his senses and to act. "Jaguar!" he cried, as he raced in the direction the captain had taken. "He's attacked Walters. Come on!"

Close at his heels came Belmont with ready gun, and at the engineer's side was Joseph with drawn machete. At the edge of the brook they stopped, amazed. There was no sign of the captain, no trace of a struggle. Utterly at a loss, they stood, searching for some mark, listening for some sound that would betray the presence of the giant cat or the injured or dead man. Then, from a distance, the jaguar screamed again, and turning, they hurried in the direction of the sound.

Suddenly Joseph uttered a frightened yell and stood shaking and trembling, pointing at the soft earth. "Kenaima!" he whispered. "Tiger Kenaima!"

Clearly visible in the damp soil were the imprints of human feet.

"Nonsense!" cried Thornton, as he carefully examined the tracks. "Those may be yours or the captain's. We've been wandering about here before."

But the Arekuna could not be convinced. "Me tellum, him Kenaima," he insisted. "Tiger no killum Walters. Tiger Kenaima catchum, me sabby."

Once more Belmont felt that tingling of his scalp, that odd sensation along his spine which had swept over him when, on the savanna, they had found the injured Indian killed by the avenger, by his mysterious, invisible uncanny enemy.

"Perhaps you're right, Joseph," said the explorer, breaking the oppressive silence. "I never heard of a jaguar attacking a man unless wounded. We’ll follow these footprints and see where they lead."

Carefully parting the foliage, and keeping the tracks in view, the three crept forward, Thornton leading, Belmont with cocked gun ready for instant use, and the Arekuna, evidently expecting swift and sudden death at every turn, striving to keep as close to the protecting gun as possible.

For some distance they followed the trail to where it disappeared in a thicket so dense that it seemed impossible a human being could have forced a way through.

"Strange," muttered Thornton. "Walters had no reason to go here, and if there's an enemy lurking in there it's too dangerous to enter. We'll go around and see if the footprints come out on the other side."

The tangle, however, was larger than they had thought, and when they had skirted its edge for some distance, they came again to the brook. For a moment they hesitated, glancing about. Then Thornton uttered an ejaculation of surprise and hurried towards a brownish object half-hidden among some broad-leaved plants.

"My God!" cried Belmont, as he realized what it was, and at the sight a sickly feeling of unspeakable dread possessed him. Huddled among the plants, with an expression of awful, indescribable horror on the distorted features, lay the dead body of the captain, his head crushed to a pulp by the Kenaima's club.

One swift glance was enough for Joseph. With a piercing scream, he leaped back and ran madly, blindly, from the accursed spot.

Thornton and Belmont shouted after him, commanding. threatening, but he gave no heed. Plunging into the stream, he splashed across, and without a backward glance, dashed into the forest on the farther bank.

"Come on, we musn't lose him!" yelled the explorer, and followed by the engineer, he rushed after the terror-stricken fleeing Indian.

Calling the Arekuna as they ran, they crossed the brook, and guided by the sounds of the fleeing Indian, sped through the jungle in pursuit.

Fortunately for all, it was impossible for even an Indian to make great speed through the forest, and the noise of Joseph's flight told of the struggles he was having with the dense growth. By the sounds also, the two men knew they were gaining on the Indian, but they were panting, spent, torn and scratched by thorns, when at last Joseph ceased his mad flight and they reached his side. His physical exhaustion had, however, driven away his insane terror, and he appeared thoroughly ashamed of himself for deserting his companions.

All three fully realized the terrible plight they were now in. In their mad chase they had completely lost all sense of direction. The rain still pattered down, and not a glimmer of light could be seen among the tree tops. Their only food had been abandoned, roasting over the fire, when they had dashed off at the sound of the captain's screams. They did not even know where the poor fellow's body lay, and, somewhere in the dim forest, lurking in the thickets or the impenetrable shadows, was the Kenaima with his blood-stained club, awaiting his chance to strike down another victim of his vengeance.

Food was the least of their worries. They still had the gun and ammunition, and the forest abounded with game. Even the presence of the Kenaima did not fill the white men with the abject, superstitious panic of the Indian. The one greatest peril, to their minds, lay in being lost.

"Our best chance is to find that stream,—the Belmont River as we called it," declared Thornton, when they had regained their breaths and could think calmly. As he spoke, a flicker of a smile crossed his troubled countenance as he remembered the light-hearted, boyish tomfoolery with which they had christened the stream such a short time previously. "If we can reach that," he continued, "we can follow it back to the savanna. But personally, I haven't the remotest idea where the river is."

"If we strike out in any direction, and continue to go in a straight line, we must eventually come to some river," said Belmont. "Then, by following it, we'll certainly come out somewhere. All these streams lead to rivers, and all rivers flow to the sea.

"True," agreed the explorer. "But, Frank, you don't realize what this means. Even by following a good sized stream or river it might take weeks to reach the nearest village or settlement. Our clothing would be in shreds, our shoes worn through and your last cartridge used, long before we reached a human habitation. There's only one faint hope for us. If we don't strike the stream we want, we may find one that will float a raft or a woodskin, and we might reach settlements in that way. We'd run terrific chances of destruction in falls and rapids, but we'll have to take the chance. But first of all we must eat. Our lives depend upon our health and strength."

An hour's hunt resulted in a curassow or "powi," and having dined on this, they marched in single file through the forest, marking their trail as they went, striving to keep a straight course, and buoying themselves up with the hopes of finding a stream which would lead them to the savanna, or would carry them to civilization and safety.

As is always the case in the tropical bush, little game was about during the day, but towards sundown Belmont shot a monkey. A few moments later, Joseph gave a glad shout. To their ears came the welcome sound of running water, a brighter light showed between the trees ahead, and hurrying forward, they came to the bank of a good-sized stream flowing swiftly over its pebbly bed. It was not deep, and as there was a fairly open space on the opposite bank, Thornton suggested crossing over in order to camp in the open.

"I've been thinking over matters while we walked," he announced, as they splashed through the rivulet. "I've come to the conclusion that we needn't fear the Kenaima. That jaguar cry signifies triumph. The avenger is never supposed to utter a sound until his mission is completed. I'm sure he has returned to his people, fully satisfied that the blood debt of his tribesmen has been wiped out. Moreover, I feel certain that this stream is the river the Peaiman referred to. In the first place, it's hardly probable that there are two large streams in the forest within the area we've covered; and if it is the stream, no one but the Peaiman himself would dare cross it for fear of evil beings and devils."

"Maybe you're right, Ned," agreed Belmont. "And I hope you are, especially in respect to the identity of this stream. I feel a lot easier over here in the 'devils' country than back in the bush with that damnable Kenaima."

As Joseph built a fire and roasted the monkey, the two men discussed the possibilities of descending the stream.

"If it's the one you think it is, then it's probably the one you named for me," argued Belmont. "So why not turn about and follow it back to the savanna?"

"Several reasons," replied the other. "If it's that stream, and I only assumed that it might be when I spoke of it before, it must travel a long distance through the forest to increase to such proportions. Neither our clothes, our strength, nor your ammunition would last until we could get back to the savanna and the Pianoghottos by that route. No, our best chance is to drift down the current. Our clothes will be saved, we will conserve our strength, there is doubtless plenty of fish further down, and unless we are wrecked in some unexpected rapid or cataract we'll reach some settlement eventually."

"We'll have to foot it for a long way yet," declared Belmont, glancing at the stream. "This creek wouldn't float a skiff, let alone a raft."

"It will float a woodskin, however," replied the explorer, "and that's better than a raft, especially in case we come to bad rapids or falls. Joseph can make a woodskin in a day, and meanwhile we can rest. There's plenty of game hereabouts, and there may be fish. Altogether I think we're in luck."

"Yes, I suppose we are," agreed the engineer. "But it's the devil of a windup for our expedition,—and not even a nugget to show for it all."

Nothing disturbed them that night, and at daybreak Joseph started to work on the woodskin which all hoped would carry them to safety.

A large purple-heart tree was found, and the Indian cut a perpendicular slit through the thick smooth bark with horizontal cuts around the trunk, eighteen feet apart. Wedges were then driven under the edges of the cut, and in an hour's time, he had forced off a great cylinder of bark eighteen feet long and nearly four feet in diameter. In the meantime, Belmont had shot a curassow, and Thornton had caught a mess of crawfish in the river. There was no danger of starving, and while the roll of bark was soaking in the shallow water, Joseph busied himself making a bow and arrows. The weapons, to be sure, were somewhat crude, and lacked the beautiful finish and symmetry of the Guiana Indians' weapons. But the Arekuna found everything he required provided by a bountiful nature and accustomed as he was to working with few and simple tools, he turned out very efficient weapons. The leaves of a palm supplied fibre for string. Arrow-canes by the riverside furnished shafts. The arrow heads were made from hard wood and bones, and a dead, seasoned limb of a letter-wood tree was hewn, whittled and shaped into a six-foot bow. Belmont, however, was rather skeptical as to Joseph's ability to secure game with the primitive weapons. But the Indian merely grinned, and, as soon as his bow and arrows were completed, he rose and went towards the river. Wading cautiously, he approached a deep pool among the rocks. Then, fitting an arrow to the string, he drew the bow quickly, the long shaft flashed into the water, and leaping forward, the Indian retrieved his missile with a ten-pound fish struggling on the barbed point.

Belmont was convinced. There was no longer any fear of running short of food, even if his ammunition gave out, and at Thornton's suggestion, it was decided to let the Arekuna do the hunting and thus conserve the cartridges for possible emergencies.

In the afternoon, the roll of bark was taken from the water, Joseph bent the ends together, secured them with tough vines, forced hard wood spreaders between the sides, and the light buoyant canoe was complete.

"Some boat builder," commented Belmont approvingly, "But it's a devilish cranky-looking craft. And how about those open ends? If we hit rough water it will fill."

Thornton laughed. "If water comes in one end it can ran out the other," he said. "But all joking aside, there's no danger. You'll find a woodskin is steadier than a birch bark canoe, and the open ends are well above the water line."

Joseph now was busy getting paddles, and again the engineer's admiration was aroused at the Arckuna's knowledge of natural resources. To have hewn paddles from tough wood with only a machete, would have been a long, hard job. The Indian, however, had no intention of attempting such labor. He picked out a small tree with deeply fluted trunk, the ridges on which were as thin and flat as boards. Splitting these off, he had only to chop them into shape and the paddles were ready.

The explorer chuckled at Belmont's freely expressed surprise. "The Indians always use that species of tree for paddles," he explained. "It's native name is 'yaruri' or 'massara,’ both of which mean the same thing— paddle-wood."

"If I stay in this bush much longer, I'll be looking for trees bearing guns, and with pods full of powder and shot," laughed the engineer. "And it's too bad there isn't a salt plant or a cigar bush, somewhere about. I'm dying for a smoke, and salt would be a blessing on this meat."

Thornton grinned. "I'm afraid you'll have to forego salt, Frank," he said, "but you needn't go without your smoke. Joseph, 'spose can catchum pipa?"

The Arekuna nodded. "Sure, me sabby catchum," he replied, and stepped into the bush.

"Jove, you don't mean to tell me there's tobacco here!" exclaimed Belmont.

Thornton, however, merely smiled, and presently the Indian returned. Without a word, he handed each of the men a bulky, cheroot-like affair of delicate paper-like bark filled with some finely shredded material.

"Light up, it won't bite," laughed the explorer, as Belmont sniffed suspiciously at the thing.

"I'll try anything once," he declared, and lighting the cheroot, he took a tentative whiff.

"Well, I'll be damned!" he ejaculated, inhaling a cloud of the fragrant smoke. "Next best thing to a real Havana."

"Well fed, refreshed, and feeling strangely secure and at ease, the three rested throughout the day. They slept undisturbed, and arose at dawn prepared to set out on their trip down the unknown river. Joseph, who had lost all fear of the Kenaima, slipped into the jungle, and soon returned with several birds and a large land tortoise, and thus provided with food for the next two meals, the men launched their woodskin and embarked. With Thornton in the bow, Belmont amidships, and Joseph in the stern, the craft was pushed from shore, and with a stroke of his paddle, the Indian drove the canoe into midstream. Light as a leaf, it floated; the current seized it; and the next instant the three men were being borne swiftly down the river.

For mile after mile they sped on without effort. The stream increased in size rapidly, numerous creeks flowed into it, and always, above the banks, towered the forest. North, south, east and west the river wound, and at each sharp bend, the woodskin's speed was checked and it was paddled slowly close to the shore, while its occupants listened intently, for they never knew when a rapid or cataract might be expected. No falls or bad rapids were met that day, however, and by mid-afternoon, a range of distant blue mountains loomed above the forest. As these presaged cataracts and rapids, it was decided to make camp and not attempt to go farther. They landed on a sandy strip of beach, the canoe was drawn well up from the water, and while the two white men gathered palm leaves for a shelter and wood for a fire, Joseph strolled down the stream with his bow and arrow, searching for fish. All were elated at the distance they had safely covered. No longer was there any fear of the Kenaima, for he and the Aurimeonas were many miles astern, the three felt sure. Although still hemmed in by forest, yet, if no accident occurred, their craft could carry them safely to the settlements, and there was no fear of going hungry. Barring some unforeseen and unexpected mishap, they were practically at the end of their troubles. Engrossed in these thoughts, the two men were busily erecting their rude shelter when Joseph dashed into view, tearing madly up the beach as if the Kenaima were at his heels. Instantly they knew something serious and alarming had occurred, for the Indian's eyes were wide with terror, his face was ashen and he shook as if with a chill.

"What's wrong ?" cried Thornton, anxiety in his voice.

For answer Joseph flung himself on the explorer and clung to him wildly.

"Didoes!" he chattered. "Devils! Me seeum! Two, t’ree devils! Wai-Wai!"

Thornton vainly endeavored to obtain some intelligible statement from the terrified Indian. But to all his queries, Joseph merely reiterated: "Devils! Me seeum devils!"

"What in blazes has he seen, do you suppose?" exclaimed Belmont.

"I don't know, but something that's frightened him half out of his wits," replied the explorer. "We’ll have to investigate. Come on, Joseph, where's your devil?"

The Arekuna only clung the tighter to Thornton, and fairly sobbed. "No makeum walk that side," he pleaded. "Devils eatum."

"Shut up," ordered Thornton, losing patience and quite forgetting to speak in talky-talky. "I don't know what you saw, but you're a blithering idiot. There's no devil. Either come along or stay here. We're going to find what scared you."

With difficulty, he loosened the frenzied grasp of the Indian, and with Belmont, started down stream in the direction whence Joseph had come. The Indian, however, was more fearful of being left alone than of facing whatever he had seen, and cringing and trembling, he kept close to the white men.

A short distance down the beach they came to a tiny cove and Thornton abruptly halted with a surprised ejaculation, gazing fixedly at the damp sand.

And as the other saw what had attracted his attention, he too, drew a sharp quick breath, while the Indian cowered with abject terror between the two. Plainly impressed upon the sand were immense human footprints. The two Americans exchanged quick glances, and each read in the other's eyes his unspoken thoughts. What manner of men had left those footprints on the sand? Were they hostile savages or was the dread Kenaima still lurking close at hand? Neither, however, saw anything incomprehensible or supernatural about the telltale impressions which would account for Joseph's terror. Whoever might be near, they were determined to learn his identity, and they crept cautiously forward, following the tracks that led towards a brushy point a hundred yards distant.

As they reached the thicket, which extended almost to the river's edge, a whiff of smoke was borne to their nostrils, and from beyond the barrier of brush, came sounds of low guttural voices. With the utmost caution, they crawled to the edge of the growth and peered through the leaves and branches.

Beyond the strip of brush was a little lagoon or backwater, landlocked by a sandbar overgrown with canes, and from its farther side a small grassy area extended to the edge of the forest. But neither of the men gave any heed to the surroundings of the spot. Their gaze was rivetted in fascinated horror upon the scene before them. Squatting upon the grass about a fire, were three gigantic, naked beings. Their skins were as black as ebony, their heads were covered with tangled manes of coarse red hair, and their thick lips and their ears were distended and made hideous by great disks of wood inserted in them. But even more terrifying than these monstrous, repulsive beings was the other sight that held the gaze of the three men. Spitted like a fowl upon a stout stake, and roasting over the fire, was the flayed and disemboweled body of a human being! Then their glance fell upon another object lying upon the grass, and instantly they realized whose corpse was being cooked to provide a cannibal feast. Leering hideously at the sky was the severed head of the Aurimeona medicine-man!

The next instant the spell was broken. Joseph had seen the ghastly head and spitted body, and emitting a horrified shriek, he leaped up and dashed madly from the scene.

His cry was echoed by a wild, demoniacal yell from the cannibals. The two white men, knowing they were discovered, raced after the fleeing Indian as they had never run before. Their only hope lay in reaching the canoe and taking to the river before their pursuers overtook them, and abject terror lent speed to their flying feet. Nearer and nearer came the horrible cries of the cannibals. The canoe was in sight, and Belmont caught a glimpse of Joseph trying to push the craft to the water's edge. The race might yet be won and then. . . a bit of driftwood buried in the sand caught Thornton's foot, tripping him and throwing him headlong to the beach. Belmont knew that before his comrade could regain his feet their pursuers would be upon him. With the quickness of thought, he stopped, wheeled, dropped to one knee and fired both barrels of his gun at the oncoming savages. At the report, one of the giant cannibals spun like a top and fell writhing on the sand. Instantly the others stopped, and as the wounded monster screeched with agony and clutched at his bleeding breast, one of his fellows swung a heavy bludgeon and brought it crashing on the wounded savage's head, while the third plunged a stone-headed spear into his throat. This coldblooded slaughter delayed the cannibals merely a few seconds, but it was the salvation of the fugitives. Thornton had time to scramble to his feet, and together he and Belmont dashed to the canoe, leaped into it, and shoving it from the beach, plied their paddles furiously. By the time the baffled cannibals reached the shore, the wood-skin bearing its occupants was far beyond their reach and was speeding downstream to the sweep of the current.

"Whew, that was a close shave!" gasped Belmont. "No wonder Joseph thought them devils."

"It would have been all up with us if it hadn't been for you," declared Thornton. "God grant they haven't boats farther downstream."

"Did you see who they'd killed?" asked the engineer.

The explorer nodded. "Yes," he replied. "Well never know how the Peaiman met such a fate. His charms must have failed to work for once. Poor rascal! He wasn't far from the truth when he said this place was full of devils."

"You don't catch me ever doubting an Indian's yarn again, no matter how nonsensical it sounds," announced Belmont. Then, with a new note of terror in his tones, he yelled: "My God! We're done for! Look, there are more of them!"

The woodskin had swung around a bend, and, just beyond, a dyke of rock extended across the river like a natural dam. Between the ledges the water foamed and boiled, but at one point, midway between the banks, was an open space where the stream poured smoothly, but with terrific speed, between the barriers. Upon the dyke, leaping from rock to rock, and yelling like fiends, was a score of the monstrous black cannibals. It was impossible to check the canoe already in the drag of the current and to run it ashore would mean instant capture and death. There was no alternative but to go on, and Belmont's blood ran cold at thought of passing within a few yards, perhaps a few feet, of the blood-thirsty savages. To fall into their hands would be worse than death in the rapids, which death to his mind, appeared inevitable.

Already, Joseph had headed the woodskin for the narrow opening between the rocks, and the next instant, the craft shot forward with dizzy speed. Had the Arekuna lost his head, had his hands trembled or his nerves failed him, disaster for all would have been certain. But Joseph was no coward. He had been terrified when he had first seen the cannibals, for he had thought them supernatural beings—the devils of Indian superstition. But once he had realized they were mortal, and had seen that they could be killed like any other men, he had no more fear of them than of any other enemy, a wounded jaguar or a venomous snake.

With the consummate skill of a born riverman, perfect master of his frail craft, and looking neither to right nor left at the howling cannibals, he guided the woodskin through the unknown rapids with mind and eyes centered on the rocks and whirlpools to the exclusion of all else. As the canoe swept by the first rocks, the nearest savage was within a dozen yards, and with a howl of rage he lifted his club and swung it as if about to hurl it at the passing boat. But the missile never left his hand. Risking a capsize by his action, Belmont fired at the fellow as the canoe swept past, and dropping club and spear the cannibal fell screaming into the churning water.

At the flash of the gun and the roar of the report, the others seemed panic stricken, and turning about, rushed madly for the shore. The next moment the canoe had passed the rapids and shot forth upon the tranquil waters below the dyke. But the perils of the three were not yet over. The cannibals had fled to the shore in terror at the report of Belmont's gun and at the death of their comrade, but they had now regained some of their brute courage and were racing downstream along the banks.

"They're after us again!" cried the engineer. "But we're gaining on them. Jove! Can't the beggars run, though?"

"I'm worried," declared Thornton. "They seem too darned cock-sure of getting us. There may be falls or rapids that we can't run or they may have boats somewhere ahead."

Hardly had he ceased speaking when a cry from Joseph drew the attention of the two men to the river ahead. They had been swept around an S-shaped bend, and directly ahead of them a precipitous wall of rock towered for over one hundred feet above the river. Straight towards the cliff the water flowed, to disappear in a black rift in the granite, a cleft that reached from base to summit of the precipice, a cañon with overhanging sides which almost met to form a natural tunnel.

"It's the Peaiman's 'hole in the ground'," cried Thornton.

"And what those black devils are counting on," exclaimed Belmont. "Look, they're gathering where the river narrows. We've got to land where they can't get us or else go into that damned hole!"

"Even if we take to the tunnel, they'll get us," shouted the explorer. "They're climbing up the rocks above the opening."

The occupants of the canoe had no choice, however. Even had they decided to run their craft ashore and take their chances with the cannibals, they would have been powerless to do so. The woodskin was seized as if by an invisible hand, it was rushed forward by the force of the irresistible current sweeping toward the yawning opening in the cliff, and the canoe sped, straight as an arrow, for the tunnel. In an instant, it seemed, the three men were close to the first of the cannibals. Each second they expected a shower of rocks and missiles to strike them down and destroy their frail canoe. And then a strange, amazing, inexplicable thing happened.

With one accord, the black savages dropped their crude weapons, their savage triumphant cries changed to a mournful, dismal wail, and prostrating themselves they grovelled on the ground, as though the occupants of the canoe were deities to whom they gave obeisance.

"Devilish impressive farewell!" yelled Thornton, raising his voice to make it audible above the roar of water and the dirge-like wail of the cannibals.

"It sounds like a funeral to me—our funeral. Hold tight, Frank. Trust to Providence and—good bye, old man, if we never get through here."

Belmont turned shouting at the top of his lungs. "Guess those devils knew it was all up with us, Ned. Good bye, old friend. I—"

His words were drowned in the deafening roar as the canoe shot into the black hole and semi-darkness, while from the rocky walls, the rushing waters echoed and reverberated with a noise like thunder.

"Duck your heads!" screamed Thornton, and his voice came faint as a whisper in the turmoil.

His warning came just in time. As they crouched low, Belmont felt his back scraped by the jutting overhanging rocks, and he threw himself flat in the bottom of the woodskin. How long they sped onward through the Stygian blackness of that awful hole, they never knew. But to them, lying in the fragile craft, carried by the will of the mad waters, bobbing, tossing, spinning like a top; bumping against the rocks; fearful that at any moment they would plunge over a cataract or that the canoe would be ground to pieces, they seemed to be hours within the bowels of the mountain.

That they would ever come through alive, none dared hope. It seemed utterly impossible that the tiny woodskin could survive and all had given themselves up for lost when there was a glad shout from Thornton in the bow. "Sunlight ahead!” he yelled, "We're almost through."

Belmont raised his head and peered about. In the distance, a mere pinpoint of bright light showed in the blackness. Rapidly it increased in size; the current became less terrific, and Joseph seized his paddle to steer the canoe on a straight course. In the light beyond the opening they could see the surface of the river dancing and sparkling in the sun, and in a moment more they were swept out of darkness into daylight, into the clear, sweet, blessed air with blue sky arching overhead, and. all glorious with the golden glow of the sun in the west.

They stared about in wonder. Behind them rose the towering cliffs with the gaping cleft through which they had been borne, and before them stretched the gently flowing river. But where were the dense forests, the impenetrable jungles, the broad savannas? On every hand rose precipices and cliffs of red and yellow rock, their strata worn and carved by the elements into fantastic shapes. Great spire-like pinnacles, fluted and ornate columns, battlements and enormous grottoes were on every side. Slender pillars bore titanic boulders balanced on their tips. Huge rocks were poised on the brinks of sheer cliffs, as if about to crash thundering down at a breath, and slender arches of rock spanned deep rifts, through which plunged flashing streams.

Straight from the river's side the strange rock forms rose; sometimes receding in terrace after terrace; again overhanging and leaving a mere thread of sky between their beetling brows. Not a tree was visible. Here and there in crevices among the rocks, were sharp-pointed fleshy-leaved Agaves. Climbing cacti draped many of the cliffs, and wherever water trickled over the stones, strange and brilliant flowered orchids grew in profusion.

"Jove, it's a marvelous sight!" exclaimed the engineer. "It beats the Grand Cañon.”

"And 'the Garden of the Gods', too," declared Thornton. "Lord, but this is a wonderful discovery!"

Fascinated as they were by the wonder of their surroundings, yet the men could spare little time in idle admiration. The sun was already dropping towards the summit of the cliffs, shadows were filling the ravines, and it was imperative that they should hurry on and find some place in which to pass the fast approaching night. Presently they found a tiny strip of sand between the jutting cliffs, and running the canoe ashore, they hurried to gather fragments of driftwood and start a fire. Fortunately, their game had been left in the canoe, when they had stopped before, and, as they ate their welcome meal, the two Americans discussed their adventures and their almost miraculous escape.

"Why do you imagine those brutes gave us that funeral send off?" asked Belmont. "Just when we were within their reach they quit cold, and seemed overcome with emotion at our leaving them. They're a rum lot of beggars."

"I don't know, but I can make a good guess," replied Thornton. "They probably consider the tunnel the entrance to another world. Perhaps the abode of spirits. Evidently they don't possess boats and of course they have never before seen a white man or heard a gun shot. Such things must have seemed almost supernatural to them, and when they saw us heading straight for the opening they were convinced that we were supernatural beings, and consequently fell down to worship us, or perhaps to implore our forgiveness for having attacked us."

"Yes, that must be the explanation," agreed the engineer. "But why in thunder couldn't they have caught the idea and kow-towed to us sooner? I tell you, I was scared, and I don't mind admitting it. But I suppose we're safe enough here."

"Undoubtedly as far as the cannibals are concerned," the other assured him. "And no more fear of the Kenaima, that's certain. I expect the old medicine-man was playing the Kenaima part and lying in wait for us when he met his fate. But of course there may be rapids or cataracts ahead."

"I hope the exit from this place isn't via another black hole," said Belmont. "I wonder if old Billikins knew about this spot."

"If he did, I'll wager that he never visited it by the route we took," replied Thornton. "I doubt if any human being ever before set foot here. It's totally unlike anything else in Guiana. And those cannibals are as totally unlike any other race in South America. I've been thinking about them ever since we first saw them."

"You don't imagine you're the only one who's had them in mind, do you?" exclaimed the engineer. "Great Scott! do you suppose I thought they were nice, jolly boys anxious to play tag with us?"

"You don't understand what I mean," explained the explorer. "What troubles me is who or what they are. They're not like Indians,—too black, and their features are different."

"Not to mention their hair," added the other. "Who ever heard of a red headed Indian?"

"That's of no consequence," declared Thornton. "They may dye or bleach their hair,—I noticed that several had black hair. I'd like to know where they came from, originally."

"I'll be hanged if I care," said Belmont. "But if you ask me, I'll say they came straight from Hades. Honestly, though, couldn't they be descendants or runaway slaves—like the Bush Niggers over in Surinam?" Joseph, who had been listening intently and trying to catch the meaning of the conversation, suddenly spoke up. "Him feller paintum black," he announced. "Him no gottum black skin like so."

“What!” demanded Thornton. "How you sabby?"

The Indian grinned. "Me sabby," he declared. "Me seeum him dead feller in river. Plenty paint wash off when water catchum."

"Well I'll be dashed!" ejaculated Thornton. "And I thought them really negroid. Well, that shows how keenly observant these Indians are. But if they're Indians, they're an unknown race. There's a wonderful field for study and investigation here."

"You're welcome to investigate them all you wish," remarked Belmont. "But if you take my advice you'll wear armor and carry a machine gun when you come back to study your cannibal friends. If those beasts are real one hundred per cent Americans, they're nothing for the country to be proud of."

Thornton laughed heartily at Belmont's serious tones. "Why," he exclaimed, "Think of the opportunities for the march of civilization. Can't you picture the rush of missionaries to these benighted heathens, once their presence is known? And think of their value to science!"

"I can easily picture missionaries being rushed into the heathens' stomachs," declared the engineer, grimly. "And I'll bet they'll never be as valuable to science as scientists will be to them,—if they try to study the beggars. No, I can't see much glory or value in being skinned and eaten."

Thornton chuckled. "I don't know but you're right," he admitted. "I confess that I failed to appreciate their ethnological features, when they chased us up the beach. For once, Frank, I'm willing to admit that even scientific interest has its limits. Thank Heaven, whoever they are, they're the other side of the mountain. And now let's get a good night's rest."

The summits of the peaks were a-gleam with golden light when the three in the cañon opened their eyes the next morning. But the sun had not yet risen above the encircling barriers or cliffs when breakfast was over, the canoe was launched and the journey downstream was resumed.

There was practically no current, and for hour after hour they drifted along, paddling easily and listening for the sound of possible rapids ahead. They were traveling through a wonderland with the stream twisting and turning in a bewildering manner, and often dividing the flowing on either side of lofty water-worn columns of rock, and once it broadened into a lake-like expanse dotted with numerous columns, standing above the surface like the ruins of a submerged city. Sundown still found them in the vast cañon, hemmed in by stupendous cliffs. But the mountains were less precipitous, and trees and other vegetation clothed the hollows and river banks with green. Again they camped by the riverside, eating the last of their smoked game together with several fish which Joseph shot in the stream. By dawn they were up again, and about an hour after embarking as they passed an outjuting point, the roar of falling water reached their ears, and they saw that the river ended in an abrupt line clear-cut against the sky beyond.

"Cataract," announced Thornton.

Instantly the woodskin was run ashore, and the three occupants disembarked and made their way along the shore to examine the falls that barred their progress.

The brush here was thick; numerous large trees towered above the shorter palms and bushes, and the ground was rough and broken. Steadily they pushed on, cutting a narrow path as they advanced, guiding their footsteps by the roar of the cataract which was now close at hand.

At last forcing their way through the final barrier, they came out upon a narrow rock shelf, and exclamations of wonder came from their lips. Almost at their feet the waterfall plunged for fully two hundred feet, —a magnificent spectacle in itself. But they gave little heed to it, for their gaze was fixed upon the marvelous scene spread before them.

Surrounded by low, forest-covered hills, was a broad, green valley, and in its centre,—like a bowl of quicksilver, gleamed a circular lake a mile or more in diameter. The likeness to a gigantic bowl was still further heightened by a bare ridge of white that completely encircled the shimmering sheet of water and stood forth, sharp and clear, against the surrounding greenery. Across the plain from the cataract the river wound to the lake, and, from the opposite side, flowed on to disappear in two glistening ribbons in the distant forest. But the fair valley, the placid lake in its crater-like hollow, and the river, were merely accessories,—a lovely setting, for that which held the men spellbound upon the cliff.

Close to the border of the lake, and spreading like a huge fan across the plain, were the broad streets and countless buildings of a great city. And striking through a rift in the hills above the waterfall, the rays of the rising sun fell full upon the city by the lake, and the massive buildings gleamed in the light like burnished gold.

"Manoa! The city of El Dorado!" exclaimed Belmont in awed tones.

"But in ruins," said Thornton.

There could be no doubt of it. The three were looking upon that wondrous, supposedly mythical city, that had lured Raleigh on and had led so many to their deaths, —the lost city of Manoa, the kingdom of El Dorado.

But no sign of life was there. No moving figures thronged the silent streets, and even from where Thornton and Belmont stood they could see that many of the once magnificent buildings were now shapeless piles of crumbled masonry.

"Wake me up," cried Belmont. "I must be dreaming."

"Then we all are," declared the explorer. "Hello! Look at Joseph."

The Indian was prostrate, his forehead bowed to the rocks, as if in adoration of the valley and the ruined city.

"He's worshipping the gods of his ancestors," said Thornton, lowering his voice. "But he has no more idea of what he's doing, or why he does it, than you have. It's a case of unconscious reversion to long forgotten ancestral belief."

Presently the Indian rose, a rather puzzled expression on his features which, as Belmont said, looked as if he had just waked up from a dream.

"It's no use trying to get the woodskin down there," announced the explorer. "We'll have to climb down and build another canoe on the river below the falls. Come on, I'm anxious to get a closer view of that city."

"Do you know," cried the engineer, as the three commenced clambering down the mountain side, "I understand that old 'Golden City' story now. The sun makes it look like gold. If old El Dorado wasn't any more genuine gold than his city was he wouldn't be worth a whoop."

To descend the cliff was a difficult and dangerous undertaking. The rock was little more than tufa, soft and crumbling, and at every step, masses of the material were dislodged and went crashing down to the vegetation far below. The Indian's bare feet found little trouble in securing a grip on the steep slope, but the soles of the white men's shoes slipped and slid, and a dozen times both men came within an ace of falling down to their deaths.

The descent was finally accomplished in safety, however, and panting and breathless, the three stood upon the plain and gazed about. When they had looked down upon the valley from above, it had appeared as level as a floor and seemed carpeted with short soft grass. But they now found that it was far from being a level plain, and overgrown with long wiry grass and rank thorny weeds, which formed a tangled jungle through which it was practically impossible to force a way. The shores of the stream were fairly open, however, and afforded a pathway, and following along the winding stream, they hurried towards the distant city. It was farther than they had thought, but finally they saw the white rim of the lake before them, with a deep cleft, through which the river flowed. Here there was no space to walk beside the stream, and turning aside, they started to climb the bank. From a distance the ridge had looked as if composed of white sand and pebbles, but they now found that it was a tumbled mass of broken stone, great boulders, pebbles and gravel; bare of all vegetation; scintillating with the reflected heat of the sun, and as steep as the roof of a house. Panting and perspiring, crawling over the rocks, slipping on loose stones, sinking ankle deep in the powdery sand, they struggled on. Suddenly Thornton stopped, reached down and picked up a dark colored, rock-like object. "Here's the solution to some of the puzzles," he announced, tossing the thing to the engineer. "Meteorite. Same as the Peaiman fire-stone. It accounts for the lake, for this pile of broken rock and for a lot of other things."

"By Jove, you're right!" exclaimed Belmont. "But you'll have to elucidate about it being the key to the mysteries. I don't see what this bit of some celestial body has to do with the lake or this ridge."

"Simple," panted the explorer. "Ever hear of Meteor Crater or Devil's Mountain in far-off, remote Arizona.

"Sure," replied Belmont. Then, a sudden light dawning on him, he cried: "Great Scott, of course! You mean this lake is in a crater made by a gigantic meteor?"

"No doubt about it," declared the other. "This ridge is identical with the rim of the Arizona crater—the same crushed quartz, pulverized gravel and all. The only difference is that this one is full of water."

"Blamed interesting," commented Belmont, glancing about. The next second he gave a shout, and leaping forward, picked up a dull yellow pebble. "Gold, by Jove!" he cried. "Damned if we haven't struck old Billikin's gold mine!"

Thornton chuckled. "Remember what Raleigh said: 'Peeces of golde the bignesse of egges on the shores of the lake'? Perhaps he wasn't exaggerating after all.”

Belmont scarcely heard the other's words. On his hands and knees, he was feverishly scraping among the sand and pebbles, and uttering surprised and delighted cries as nugget after nugget was disclosed.

"I wonder if that blessed meteor brought down the gold," he exclaimed, as he stopped long enough to wipe his streaming face.

"Scarcely," replied Thornton, "but it's easy to understand that the meteor was responsible for its presence. There was undoubtedly a rich vein, and the force of the striking meteorite split and pulverized the rock and exposed the gold. But come along, Frank. This gold has been here for ages, and it's not going to vanish at once. It's hotter than Hades here, I want to see the city."

"Blast the city!" burst out the engineer. But, realizing the truth of his friend's words, he rose reluctantly and resumed his way toward the summit of the ridge. They were now within half a mile of the vast ruin, and filled with curiosity and interest, they hurried toward the nearest buildings, while behind, ill at ease and with frightened eyes, came the Indian.

"Me no likeum," he exclaimed, as they approached the ruins. "Me sabby him plenty peai (magic)."

"Don't make for 'fraid," said Thornton. "Why you no likeum? House all same dead. Him feller what liveum this place all same dead."

"Me tellum same place peai," reasserted the Arekuna. "Long time peai. All feller Buckmans (Indians) sabby for long time him peai place."

"Ha!" ejaculated the explorer. "So the Indians all know of this place. Why you no tellum you sabby this place?"

Joseph cast down his eyes, dug his toes into the sand and hesitated. "Me no sabby what side this place," he I declared at last. "Buckmans sabby him some place. No sabby more."

"Hmm, perhaps that's true," muttered Thornton, "Maybe the Indians merely know the same old story of Manoa without knowing its location."

"I'll bet old Billikins sabbyed it at any rate," laughed Belmont, as he strode forward. "And I'll bet its bad reputation is what kept those black devils from coming down here."

They were now close to the buildings, and found the city even more desolate and ruined than they had thought. The streets, which had appeared wide and straight for a distance, were uneven, full of holes and chasms, and in places were choked by debris which had fallen from the buildings. The edifices, that had seemed impressive from afar, were sagging, their walls cracked and crumbling, their roofs fallen in, and their carved cornices and ornate columns lay shattered on the pavements.

"Looks like one of those shelled towns in France," commented the engineer. "See that, Ned. Look at those houses across the street. They're half-buried under the ridge—I've seen buildings half-covered by a shell crater rim in just that way."

"Gad, yes!" ejaculated the other. "I believe that explains everything. I've been wondering what destroyed the place. But now I understand. The city was shelled. It's been bombarded by a more destructive shell than anything fired from modern guns. The city was destroyed by the same gigantic meteor, or by the concentrated shower of meteors, that threw up that ridge."

"Tell that to the marines!" scoffed the engineer. "Maybe these houses may have been a bit peppered or shaken, but no meteorite could have wiped out a city of this size. Why, some of the buildings are a mile from the ridge"

Thornton laughed drily. "Can you conceive of the shock which must have resulted when such a meteor struck?" he asked, "It had force enough to dig a pit a mile in diameter, and Lord knows how deep, in solid rock, and to throw up a ridge of pulverized granite and quartz nearly one hundred feet high. Just stop to recall to your mind the concussion and shock made by those big shells during the war—missiles only a few inches in diameter, and then try to imagine a white hot mass of metal weighing hundreds of thousands of tons, and perhaps one thousand feet in diameter, striking with even greater force than any shell. Why, man alive, if a meteor like that hit the earth somewhere near New York it would destroy every vestige of life within a radius of several hundred miles! Think of the gases and heat it must have generated. I'm amazed that a trace of the city remains. Undoubtedly the greater part of it was pulverized and forms part of the ridge."

"By Jove, I guess you're right, at that," admitted Belmont. "Just the same, as Raleigh's yarn had Manoa beside a lake, it must have been the same way clear back in his day. And in that case what became of old El Dorado and his folks?"

"Probably there has always been a lake here," replied Thornton. "And I'd wager that the city was destroyed ages before the first Europeans came to America. The story of El Dorado has probably been handed down from the days before the place was wiped out."

"Don't know as I give a whoop, whether 'twas or not," declared the engineer, "provided I can get the gold old El Dorado left. Come on, Ned, let's take a stroll up Main Street."

"Funny thing, that the place isn't overgrown with jungle," remarked Belmont, as they reached the nearest pavement. "It looks as if a street-cleaning gang had been at work—hardly any grass in the streets, and only a few small trees among the ruins.’

"Yes, that's a puzzle to me, also," admitted the other. "Probably something about the soil—same reason the ridge is still bare."

Despite Belmont's flippant manner, he admitted that he felt awed and impressed at standing in this dead city of a bygone past, and as they sauntered along, the explorer was constantly uttering enthusiastic comments regarding the archeological treasures and wonders revealed.

"Frank!" he exclaimed. "I'd go through all we have a dozen times over, just for this. It's the greatest discovery ever made in America. I'm beginning to believe it's the most ancient city of the New World. No one has ever before seen similar carvings and architecture."

"I wonder what the people were like," said Belmont. "They were darned good architects, I'll admit those buildings ahead are fine, and they don't appear to be in bad shape."

As the two proceeded farther and farther from the lake, the buildings appeared more and more intact, and they also appeared to be of a better class, with more ornate and beautiful carvings decorating the stone work.

"Look at that building!" cried the explorer, gripping his friend's arm. "The walls lean outward like those of some Mayan buildings, but in every other detail it's wholly different."

"By Jove, they didn't use mortar, either," exclaimed the engineer, who was examining the walls. "And I'd like to know what sort of tools they used. This stone is diorite and harder than Pharaoh's heart. Come on, let's go inside. There's no one to take our cards, but the door's wide open."

The two entered the wide portal, flanked by weirdly-carved columns, while Joseph followed at their heels looking, "like a dog with his tail between his legs," as Belmont expressed it.

"Funny that the roof has fallen in and yet there are no signs of it on the floor," commented Belmont, as they glanced curiously about.

Thornton looked up at the summits of the high walls. "If it ever had a roof it was of thatch, or merely an awning," he declared. "The edges of the walls are smooth—not crumbled or broken except in one spot That's where a stone came tumbling through. See it, lying over there?" He pointed to an irregular boulder in one corner of the immense room.

"Probably ricocheted in here when the meteor struck," remarked the other, as he approached it. "Great Scott, Ned, it's a meteor itself!"

"Now perhaps you can realize the force of the meteorite," said Thornton. "This is a small fragment, but it weighs over a dozen tons and has gone three feet deep into the solid stone flooring."

"I'm sorry for the folks who were here when that baby came in," was Belmont's comment.

From the room where the three men stood, several doorways opened, and the two white men entered one after another, Belmont searching for possible treasure, while Thornton was engrossed in archeological studies. But every room appeared to be empty except for piles of dust and bits of highly decorated pottery lying cracked and broken on the floors.

"What do you suppose made these dust heaps?" asked the engineer, as he poked one with his toe. "They look as though some chambermaid had swept them into piles ready to take out"

"They're all that remains of wooden furniture, I think," replied the explorer. "These jars once stood on tables or benches, and when the wood rotted away they fell down and smashed."

"Wish they'd left a few chairs or a good bed," laughed Belmont. "They were an inhospitable bunch, not to think of some stranger dropping in."

As he spoke, they were passing a low, dark opening in the wall. The next instant the engineer sprang back with a sharp ejaculation, Joseph uttered a frightened cry, and even Thornton was startled. From within the black and shadowy recesses of the chamber came a short, half-smothered cough!

(To be continued)

Editor's Note: The term El Dorado, the Spanish words meaning the gilded one, is applied to a king or high priest who was supposed to appear sometimes before his people with robes sprinkled with gold dust. This is the mythical being alluded to often in this story. It was then applied to the city and afterwards to the country that this gilded being was supposed to belong to and rule over. Sir Walter Raleigh, in the days of Queen Elizabeth, was one of the most celebrated of the searchers for the suppositious treasure, implied.

The Treasure of the Golden God by A. Hyatt Verrill

(Serial in Two PartsConclusion. supplied courtesy of Bertram Kundert)

THE second part of this serial brings it to a conclusion in this number. It is a wonderful detail of the experience of our explorers in the Palace of El Dorado and through the rivers and jungles of South America. It is a true study or presentation of the explorer's life.

What Went Before:

Two friends, one an archeologist and the other a mining engineer, determined to take a trip into the jungles of the north of South America. The incitement was some golden ornaments which the archeologist had received from that region, and without knowing it they find themselves following the example of the explorers of the days of Queen Elizabeth and unwittingly go in search of El Dorado. A wonderful presentation of their adventures in South America among the different tribes of Indians follows, and while the Indians are all friendly at first there is the ever-present danger of an outbreak, so that in a sense they are living on the edge of a volcano, as the proverbial saying goes. An outbreak finally occurs during a period of drunken revelry. They have seen gold used almost in profusion by the Indians for their personal adornment; however, the source of this gold is a secret known only to the Chief Medicine Man. But at last trouble occurs, brought on by the killing of one of the Indian tribe by the explorers' guide. This starts an avenger, the remorseless "kenaima," and they are forced to flee for their lives. Two of the guides are murdered by the kenaima, leaving the two men with only Joseph, the faithful Indian guide. Joseph makes a bark canoe, a "woodskin" as it is called, and they take to that and go down the rivers. Even their course along the streams is not free from molestation, as they are followed along the banks by savages of a strange appearance, and eventually they reach in safety a ruinous city uninhabited and which they believe has been, in the dim past, shaken to its foundations by a giant meteor. They start to explore the ancient ruined city, commenting on what the people were like who had built it, when they are startled by a short, half-smothered cough from a darkened recess.

PART II Conclusion

ALL three stood transfixed, listening, filled with a strange sensation of superstitious dread. Then, once again, the cough sounded from the darkness, and Belmont's straining eyes discerned an indistinct figure moving stealthily in the room. Gripping Thornton's arm, he pointed, speechless, at the ghostly form. Then Joseph's voice broke the spell. "Tigre" he exclaimed. "Me smellum. Look seeum eyes!" It was a jaguar, the "tigre" of the Spanish Americans.

In the blackness two greenish luminous spots glowed, and without stopping to think of consequences, Belmont raised his gun and fired. There was a deafening roar as the building reverberated to the report, bits of masonry came rattling down, and there was an awful, terrifying scream as Belmont was knocked head-over-heels by a huge black creature that catapulted out of the darkness. The engineer scrambled to his feet unhurt, but gasping. Thornton, too, was just rising from where he bad fallen, and the Indian was seated a few feet away, gazing about in a dazed manner.

"What the—" began Belmont, and then gave a lusty shout. "Got him!" he cried, and sprang forward. Stretched upon the floor beyond Joseph, was an immense black jaguar.

"And you came blamed near getting all of us, too," growled Thornton. "For heaven's sake, don't ever fire that blunderbuss in these ruins again. You came near bringing the whole place tumbling about our heads. My heart stood still when the stones began to rattle down."

"Hanged if I thought of that," said Belmont contritely. "I'll be more careful in future. Say, are jaguars edible? Seems to me I haven't eaten for a week."

Thornton laughed. "I guess they're edible," he replied, "but scarcely palatable. We'll have to make the best of it, however, and be satisfied with jaguar steaks for our lunch."

Joseph dragged the big cat to the door, and was busy skinning the beast while the two white men went in search of fuel.

"We'll have to go outside the city for firewood," said Thornton, after they had hunted about for some time. "There's not a stick in the whole town."

"There are trees over beside the river” said Belmont. "But it will be easier to carry the meat there than to bring fuel back here. Besides, we'll be near water. Come on, Joseph, bring along some of that meat"

The three men were not, however, compelled to test the edible qualities of jaguar flesh. As they entered the thicket a flock of tinamous* whirred up, and three of the birds fell to Belmont's gun.

An edible, highly appreciated game bird, resembling the partridge and sometimes called by that name. It is closely related to the gallinaceous bird (chickens).

"We won't starve, at any rate," he remarked, as he retrieved the birds. "I'll bet this valley is full of game, and plenty of fish in the river and lake. Not a bad place to stop in for a while. There may be treasure in the city, and there is a fortune in gold over the ridge to be had for the picking. I'm for staying right here for the present."

"It suits me," assented Thornton. "I'd like nothing better than to thoroughly explore the place and study the architecture. Perhaps there's treasure, and perhaps not. But there are plenty of archeological trophies. And if we can get away from here in a woodskin, there's no reason why we shouldn't carry quite a fortune in gold with us."

"I'm coming back to make a grand clean-up," declared the engineer. "That meteor opened up a vein that's a regular bonanza. Ned, old man, I'll take back all I ever said about this expedition being a failure. We've struck it rich."

With their lunch over, the three returned to the city, and once more wandered about the streets and buildings.

"There's plenty of good material lying about," remarked the engineer, "and a lot of these houses could be repaired and used. Won't the old fellows, who built this place, turn over in their graves, if they should see it made over into an up-to-date mining camp?"

"I object," declared Thornton. "You can take the gold and welcome, but I claim the city as my share. It's not going to be disturbed if I have my way. It's too valuable scientifically."

The other laughed. "Oh, all right," he agreed. "You're welcome to the old place. I expect it'll be cheaper to build corrugated iron and wooden shacks, anyway. These buildings are too blamed well put together to tear down."

As Belmont spoke, Thornton stopped and very carefully examined a low bush sprouting from a crevice between the stones.

"Hmm, what do you make of that?" Thornton queried, turning to the engineer.

Belmont looked closely at the shrub. Concealed among its leaves was the main stem, which very obviously had been cut off.

"I'll be damned!" he ejaculated. "Someone has chopped it off. But of course that's impossible."

"Is it?" said Thornton, looking at his companion with a strange expression on his features. "I'm beginning to think that nothing is impossible here. That lantana bush has been cut off, and what is more, it's been cut recently—within a few weeks at the longest. Frank, human beings have been in this city within the month. For all I know they may be here now. The Lord alone knows what we may run into at any moment!"

Belmont whistled. "Great Scott, you don't mean those black cannibals may be here?"

"I don't know what to think," confessed the other.

"But whatever happens or whoever we see, don't shoot, unless to save our lives. Hold on! What's this?"

Again he halted, knelt down, and examined the stone pavement. "Here's more proof," he announced, pointing to a crack between the blocks where fresh earth showed. "Believe it or not, Frank, this street has been weeded. Look, there's the dry grass that was pulled from between the stones. No wonder the city is not overrun with jungle. The vegetation has been destroyed as fast as it grew. Ghosts or spirits don't chop down bushes nor pull up weeds. Men of some kind are caring for this city. It's darned mysterious, but an indisputable fact."

"Peai!" exclaimed Joseph, who had remained silently gazing at the evidences of human beings' presence. "Me tellum this place plenty peai."

Thornton glanced searchingly at the Indian. "There's something back of all this," he declared. "I'll wager you Indians know more about this place than you admit or than we think." Then addressing Joseph, he asked: "What you sabby? How come you sabby him peai? You sabby this place plenty long time, me say."

The Indian's eyes shifted uneasily, and he shuffled first one foot and then the other on the pavement. "No sabby long time," he replied at last. "All same, him peai. Me C'riht'an Buckman. Me fadder same way. All same, me fadder say long time gone this place peai. Long time gone one feller gold-man liveum this side. He same like God for Buckmen that time. Me sabby mebbe plenty Buckmen mebbe still likeum gold-man for god all this time. Gold-man plenty peai this place, one time. Where he liveum plenty peai same way."

"Same old El Dorado yarn," announced the explorer with a disappointed sigh. "It doesn't throw any light on the present mystery."

"I'm not so sure about that," declared the other. "It seems to me that talky-talky is kind of a limited lingo; but I think I get Joseph's idea. He means that some of the heathen Indians still think this place holy or sacred or taboo or something of the sort, and that some of them may hang around, kow-towing to El Dorado's home town just because he lived in it once."

"Of course that's what he means," agreed the explorer. "But that doesn't tell us who have been taking care of it. And it doesn't explain why, if Indians care for it and worship here, there are none here now. The only solution I can think of is that they don't live in this valley, but come here at certain definite periods to worship and clean things up."

"Perhaps old Billikins was the lad who weeded the place," suggested the engineer.

"I'll wager he wasn't the only peaiman who knew of it," declared Thornton. "It's more than probable that every medicine-man in Guiana knows the spot. To them it's like Mecca to the Mohammedans, and nothing on earth would induce them to divulge the secret of its existence to the whites."

"Likely as not," agreed the other. "I said I'd swallow anything after what I've seen. Hello, here's the end of Main Street with the Town Hall just where it should be."

They had come to the end of the avenue, and were facing a massive building just ahead.

"And the road leads straight into the 'Town Hall' as you call it," observed the explorer. "You're not so far off either, old man. That building is a temple of some sort. There may be interesting things inside."

A short flight of huge stone steps led from the end of the street to an enormous doorway, and Thornton called Belmont's attention to the fact that the portal was wider at top than at bottom.

"Looks bottom-side up," commented the engineer.

"It has some significance," explained the explorer. "The walls also lean out, as did those of the building back there where you shot the jaguar. But all the others have perpendicular walls. Probably it's symbolic of sacred buildings."

They had now entered the doorway and found themselves in a short passage ending in a second flight of steps. Mounting these, they reached the top and halted, thunderstruck at the sight which greeted them.

They stood upon the threshold of an enormous room, the walls and floors of which were of dark-green polished stone, and illuminated only by a single slit-like window in the eastern wall. The chamber was in the form of a gigantic swastika,* and in its centre, facing the door and window, seated upon a throne of black stone, sat a gigantic human figure of burnished gold.

*The swastika is a very ancient symbol of uncertain significance. It is traced back to the bronze age. It is detected in the remains of ancient Troy. The bronze age is supposed to have antedated the historical age.

"El Dorado himself!" half-whispered Belmont, when at last he found his voice.

"Yes, the Gilded One in very truth!" assented Thornton.

Joseph, however, said not a word. He was prostrate on the floor in adoration.

"Lord, what a chunk of gold!" gasped Belmont. "That is," he added, "if he is gold."

"No doubt of that," declared Thornton. "No other metal would have remained untarnished for centuries. Perhaps not solid gold, possibly thin plates over stone, or even hollow. We'll have a look."

Stepping across the temple floor, the two approached the golden idol. At first glance it had appeared human in form, but as they took in the details they discovered that it was a grotesque combination of man and beast. The head was that of a jaguar; but instead of the felines teeth, the opened mouth seemed to threaten us with its cavernous expanse. In one hand the image held a carved staff, the other grasped a golden club, while a third arm, sprouting from the breast, supported a golden swastika. The body and legs were human, although curiously distorted and decorated.

The Indian, who had now risen and had followed the white men, edged away to one side instead of approaching the idol from the front, and stood awed and silent in the farthest alcove or arm of the swastika-shaped room. Once they had recovered from their first amazement, Thornton and Belmont began to examine the gold god that towered for a dozen feet above their heads.

Suddenly the explorer caught sight of some objects resting upon the black throne at the idol's feet.

"Look at these!" he cried excitedly. "Flowers and fruits. Offerings to the god. They're wilted and rotten, but they have not been here long. Hello, here's something else!"

Poking among the decayed flowers, he drew out an elaborately carved wooden club. "I don't know what tribe it belongs to," he muttered, examining the weapon. "But I'd like to know. It might solve the mystery of the identity of those who visit this place."

"Here, Joseph," he continued, as he stepped from the throne and started towards the motionless Indian. "You sabby what Buckmen makeum this?"

Meanwhile, Belmont, who had no interest whatever in ethnological problems, had clambered up on the throne and was tapping and examining the metal surface of the idol trying to determine if it was solid gold, the while mentally appraising its bullion value.

"Isn't he the ugly old boy?" he exclaimed, as at close quarters he looked at the repulsive features of the image. "Talk about those black cannibals! This chap's got them beat a mile for downright, cussed ugliness."

Then the third arm with its shield-like swastika attracted his attention, and reaching up, he grasped the superfluous limb. "Shake," old top," he cried humorously. "Glad to meet you' I'm—" The next instant he dropped the arm as though he had received an electric shock. The massive metal limb had swung downwards at his touch.

"By Jove!" he shouted, "Look here, Ned. This extra arm is loose." As he spoke, he peered around the idol to catch a glimpse of his companions. His foot slipped, he clutched wildly at the projecting arm, and the limb swung down and outward with his weight. As it did so, an incredible thing happened. Thornton and Joseph, together with the floor whereon they stood, shot swiftly to one side and vanished! Only a blank dark-green wall was visible where the two had been but a moment before.

Amazed, stunned, uncomprehending, Belmont stared at the spot where the two had been, speechless, utterly bereft of his senses. It was so sudden, so incredible, so terrifying, that he seemed paralyzed, unable to move or to utter a sound. Then, as the enormity of the catastrophe dawned upon him, he leaped down, and dashing across the floor, beat his fists upon the cold stone wall and shouted madly, calling his companions' names until he was hoarse.

But no answer, no sound, no reply came from the massive blocks of green stone. Only the echoes of his own voice mocked him. His friends were gone. They had been swallowed up, wiped out of existence in some weird, inexplicable, mysterious manner, and he was alone. Alone with that awful, hideous image in the ruined city of the dead.

With full realization of his overwhelming loss and absolute helplessness, came an overpowering insane, terrible hatred of the golden idol, and a ghastly, superstitious terror of the bestial thing. Cursing, he turned and rushed madly for the temple door, his one thought to reach the open air and escape from the dismal tomblike place. But the next second, he uttered a mad despairing yell. There was no door. The walls rose smooth and unbroken from floor to summit. No crevice, no crack gave a hint as to where the door had been. He was caged, trapped, imprisoned, and he flung himself upon the stone floor, utterly hopeless and beaten.

Suddenly Belmont started. Trembling with mingled hopes and fears, he raised his head. His ears had caught the faint sounds of voices. Whether they were those of friends or foes he could not know. Then again he heard the sound, and with a glad cry sprang to his feet. The voice was unmistakable, it was Thornton's.

"Hello, Frank," came in muffled, far away words "We're all right. Can you see me? I'm looking straight at you." A merry laugh followed.

Belmont stared wildly about the vast room, mystified and perplexed. The words had come apparently from the centre of the temple; but there was no sign of the explorer.

"Hell, no!" he cried impatiently, "I can't see you. Where in thunder are you? What's happened?"

"We're here," came the answer with a chuckle of amusement. "inside of El Dorado. Climb up and you'll see me. I don't know what happened any more than you do. First thing we knew we were shot into a small chamber with a flight of steps leading to a passage. We hurried along, hoping to find a way out, and came to a second stairway which brought us up here inside of the idol. You must have touched a secret spring or lever that started some sort of mechanism."

While Thornton had been speaking, Belmont had hurried to the golden image and had climbed up until he could peer into the horrible mouth. There was a small opening in the throat, and from this issued the explorer's words. But the aperture was too small and dark to permit Belmont to see the other's face.

"Great Scott!" he cried, as Thornton finished speaking. "It must have been the idol's arm. I grabbed it when I slipped and pulled it down. The door of this confounded place has shut tighter than a drum, too."

"That's it," declared Thornton. "The arm must be the lever connected with machinery inside here. "Wait a moment until I have a look."

Belmont could hear his friend moving about within the idol. "I've found it," Thornton announced presently. "There is a lever in here with a chain hanging down to some place below. Move the arm up again, slowly, and we'll see what happens."

Belmont grasped the arm and slowly pushed it upward. It moved easily, and as he lifted it with one hand he glanced at the back of the room and at the wall where the entrance had been. Slowly and silently portions of the apparently solid stone walls moved, the door was exposed, and an opening also appeared where Thornton and Joseph had stood when they had disappeared.

"I'll be hanged!" cried the engineer. "The door's half open, and there's a hole in the back of the room."

"Will the arm stay where it is?" queried Thornton.

Very cautiously Belmont released his hold and the gold arm remained motionless. "Yes," he replied. "It doesn't move unless I push it."

"Good," said the explorer. "We'll come out. Better hold that arm though and don't let it move. It might slip, and I don't fancy being nipped by those moving walls."

The words ceased, and Belmont, holding the idol's third arm in place, waited anxiously for his companions to reappear. Minute after minute passed; he became nervous and trembled with fear that something had gone wrong. Then he heard the sounds of footsteps, and Thornton and Joseph stepped out from the opening in the rear of the room.

Belmont dropped the arm, leaped to the floor and hurried to them. "Thank God you're all right!" he cried fervently. "I felt certain that something else had happened to you in this devilish place."

"It took us longer to get out than to get in," replied the explorer. "There are several passages down there and we had trouble in finding the right one. It's too bad you had such a beastly scare, old man."

“It was more than beastly," declared Belmont. "I never thought I'd ever see either of you again. I couldn't imagine what had happened, and when I lost my head and rushed for the door and found it gone, I went all to pieces. It was the confounded uncanniness of it all."

"I don't blame you," said Thornton. "It's a wonderfully clever piece of work—the machinery down below. Whoever built this place was an expert engineer and mechanic. But I presume it's very simple at that. The amazing thing is that any sort of machinery should remain in working order through all the centuries that must have passed since it was last in use."

Climbing upon the throne, Thornton moved the arm to its original position, and then descending, examined the door and the spot where he had first stood with Joseph. Then, returning, he pulled the arm down. Instantly the door closed and a strip of floor slid into the aperture, while the opposite wall moved forward and closed the opening. There was no jar, no jolt, not a sound, as the ponderous masses of masonry were shifted, and the closest scrutiny failed to reveal the joints cleverly concealed amid the intricate carvings that covered the stone work.

"It's devilish interesting," declared Belmont. "Let's have a look around down below. I'd like to see how the thing works. And besides, if the folks who lived here had any treasure, I'll bet they hid it down in the cellar."

The explorer hesitated. "We'll have to wedge that arm in place before we try it," he said. "A jar or jolt might shut the place up forever with us inside like rats in a trap."

"And how about those chaps who put the bouquet at old El Dorado's feet?" suggested Belmont. "Isn't there a chance that they might drop in and shut us up purposely?"

"No danger of that," declared Thornton. "It was in order to prevent unexpected visitors from entering the temple that the door was arranged to shut when the vault opens. The priests of the place didn't want to be interrupted and didn't want outsiders to know the secrets of the place."

By means of Joseph's bowstring, the arm was tied securely in place so that the secret aperture was partly open and permitted the men to pass through. Belmont had expected to find the underground passage dark and damp, but to his surprise he found It light enough to distinguish surroundings, and an investigation showed that narrow shafts extended downward from the roof of the temple through the walls. Thornton led the way to the stairs under the idol, and Belmont climbed up and peered through the mouth of the image as had the others. Then, having satisfied his curiosity, he and Thornton began to examine the machinery which operated the moving walls. By following the massive chain that hung from the inner part of the arm they found a bewildering maze of shafts, levers and chains. Belmont, however, declared that the whole affair was very simple.

"It's a sort of Spanish-windlass arrangement," he explained, "but in combination with duplex levers carefully balanced and adjusted by counter-weights and a toggle. I wonder what the metal is. It looks like bronze."

Thornton laughed heartily. "You're a fine one," he exclaimed. "You've been looking for treasure, and you don't recognize it when it's under your eyes. Those things are all gold, man!"

"No!" cried the engineer, unable to believe that Thornton was in earnest. "Quit trying to kid me, Ned. Gold is far too soft for such purposes."

"When pure, yes," assented the other. "But this is some alloy. I examined the chain when I was in here before, and I'll swear that it's gold. You're a fine metallurgist, Frank, not to remember that gold alloyed with certain metals—iridium for example, perhaps with platinum, can be made almost as hard as iron."

"Platinum!" shrieked Belmont. "Why, man alive, if all this machinery is just gold it's worth millions. But if there's platinum with it—good Lord, Ned, you'll have me looney in a minute!"

Almost feverishly Belmont examined the ponderous mechanism, following chains where they led from a lighted into a dark tunnel, trying to compute the weights of the various parts and their incredible value in terms of dollars.

"Well, I'll be hanged!" he cried out suddenly. "Don't tell me those old heathens didn't know a thing or two. No wonder the walls slid easily. They run on ball bearings!"

He had crawled through the tunnel into a fair sized, dimly-lit room, hewn in the solid rock, and as the others joined him, all saw that the moving sections of walls rested on runners of yellow metal, which in turn bore on metal spheres resting in metal grooves.

"Marvelous!" cried the explorer. "This city was built by an undreamed-of race, a race that was familiar with many of our most modern mechanical principles and discoveries. It outdoes anything ever before discovered in the entire world."

"I'll say it does," the other agreed. "Why, man, there are millions in bullion in these alone."

"And worth far more as archeological specimens," said Thornton quietly.

"Archeology be damned!" exploded Belmont. "Didn't you agree we were to go fifty-fifty on whatever gold we found?"

"On raw gold, yes," replied the explorer. "But the bargain was that I was to have all gold ornaments and other manufactured articles for specimens."

Belmont straightened up and grinned ruefully. "You win," he admitted. "But it looks as if there is about a thousand times as much manufactured gold as there is raw metal. But, good Lord, there's plenty for us both." Thornton burst into hearty laughter. "I guess we needn't worry," he said. "We'll have to leave the idol and all this machinery where it is, anyhow. And you're the one who wins. You can take along all the nuggets we can carry."

As they had been speaking, they had retraced their way to the main passage and had entered the first opening they came to. It was a narrow hallway ending in a large vault or chamber, and piled high around the sides of the room were countless irregular objects gleaming faintly in the dim light.

"Holy Moses!" fairly shouted Belmont as he saw the things. "Talk about treasure! Man, man, am I seeing things? Why, there are tons and tons of ingots here. Millions, Ned, millions!"

"I haven't a doubt of it," assented Thornton, without the least excitement in his voice. "We've found the treasure vault of El Dorado. I expected we would from the moment I set my eyes on the city. But wouldn't poor old Sir Walter Raleigh have gloated over this?"

"Not a gol-darned bit more than I'm gloating," declared the engineer. "Whew! it makes my head swim. And, hang it all, we can't carry it off either."

"We can return for it, however," Thornton reminded him. "It's safer in this secret vault than in any bank."

"Yes, I guess that's so," admitted Belmont. "It's been here a long time and I reckon a few weeks or months more won't hurt it. Come on, let's see if there's more."

Turning, they entered the next room. This was smaller, and while no ingots were stored within it, there were several open stone chests along the walls. Hurrying to the nearest, Belmont glanced within it.

"Moons!" he cried. "Here's your loot, Ned. This chest is filled to the brim with the gold crescents the Indians wore in their noses. This place must have been the headquarters for the jewelry trade in the old days."

Every chest was, they found, filled with the gold moons and other golden ornaments, and Belmont commenced filling his pockets with them.

"I can carry these off, anyway," he muttered. "They're as good as double-eagles and easier to gather than nuggets. I guess there are enough of them, so you won't mind."

"Better wait until we're ready to leave the city," suggested Thornton. "There is no use carrying all that extra weight about with you. Besides, there are still other passages to explore. You may find still greater treasures."

"Right you are," agreed the engineer, as he began dumping all but a few of the moons out of his pockets. "But the sight of all this gold has nearly driven me crazy."

The next vault was empty, and only one more doorway could be seen along the passage. Passing through this, they were surprised to find that instead of a room there was a narrow winding passageway leading into stygian blackness.

"I wonder where this goes," muttered Thornton, as he led the way, feeling with outstretched hands along the walls and carefully testing each step as he advanced. "I wish I had a torch," he added.

"It would be the devil of a place in which to get lost," rumbled Belmont from the darkness.

"No danger of that," the other assured him. "The wall is unbroken, and we can readily feel our way back."

Presently a glimmer of light showed ahead. "We're coming out somewhere," remarked Belmont. "There are steps ahead there by the light."

The stairs were narrow and steep, and as the men ascended them towards the light, which came from above, they paused frequently to rest and regain their breaths. Once, as they paused, Belmont looked back and saw Joseph toiling up the stairway. "Hello," he exclaimed. "What the deuce is Joseph carrying?"

Then, as he realized what it was, he burst out laughing. "By Jove, it's one of those gold-bricks!" he cried. "He seems to have been cured of his fear of the place being peai."

The Indian, catching the engineer's meaning, grinned sheepishly. "Me tellum mebbe peai," he explained "Mebbe peai, how can tell? All same, me sabby this feller catchum plenty money bimeby."

The two white men fairly roared with laughter. "Bully for you, Joseph!" shouted Belmont. "You've an eye for the main chance all right."

“Talk about the Scotch," exclaimed Thornton. "Joseph is as canny as the best of them. But he's got some job on his hands, if he intends carrying that ingot with him wherever he goes."

Resuming their climb, they at last reached the head of the stairs and found themselves in a small room into which the sunlight was streaming through a rough hole broken in the masonry. Thornton stepped to the aperture and glanced out.

"Well, I'll be hanged!" he ejaculated. "I never would have guessed it, I'll wager you anything you wish that you don't know where we are, Frank."

Belmont stepped to Thornton's side and uttered an exclamation of surprise and wonder. Beneath them was a spacious room, and, lying on the floor in plain view, was the jaguar's skin. They were gazing through the opening in the cornice made by the meteor in the room where Belmont had killed the beast.

"It's darned funny and interesting, but devilishly disappointing," declared the engineer. "Who'd have thought that after all that long hard climb we'd just come out here? The fellows who made that tunnel were either crazy or practical jokers. I'll take back what I said about their having brains. What's the use of such a fool idea?"

"I presume this building was a sort of annex to the temple," replied the explorer. "Probably the priests would disappear from the temple and reappear mysteriously here, or vice-versa. Or it may be that they kept watch of what was going on from peep-holes up here and from the idol's mouth. Or again, they may have worked an oracle stunt, much as did the old Greeks and Romans. Odd, though, that there doesn't appear to be any means of descending directly from here. We'll have to retrace our way. It's getting late so we'd better hustle and find a place to camp."

Back down the long stairway and through the dark tunnel the three made their way. They reached the passage beneath the idol; once more came out in the temple, and Belmont, detaching the string that held the idol's arm, moved the limb downward and leaped to the floor.

"Now for a hunt, a fine dinner and a quiet night." he said. "I've seen enough to call it the end of a perfect day."

Leaving the streets, they hunted through the thickets. But it was some time before they found game in the shape of several quail, which Belmont shot. As the two white men built a fire and cooked their evening meal, Joseph, with bow and arrows, searched for fish in the river, and by the time the quail were broiled, he returned with two fine pocu* fish.

*A food fish confined to Africa and South America.

"I suppose we're foolish, not to sleep in one of the buildings," remarked Thornton, as they ate. "It will be cold out here without coverings, and it may rain."

"Nix on the ruins for me," declared the engineer. "I'm not nervous and I'm 'not afraid of ghosts, but somehow, I'd feel as if I were sleeping in a graveyard or a tomb if I slept in that city."

"I feel a bit that way myself," confessed the other. "It's strange that I should, too. I've slept in ruins before, and I've never felt the same sensations. I presume it's the mystery of those human beings having been here. Well, if we keep a good fire going, we can manage. It isn't the first time we have slept in the open, and it won't be the last."

Joseph had gathered palm leaves and had constructed a rude shelter which would serve to keep off possible showers, and a layer of the same leaves had been spread upon the earth. The tired men stretched themselves out and in a moment Thornton was snoring lustily, while the regular breathing of the Indian proved him to be dead to the world. Belmont was tired and drowsy, but he could not fall asleep. He was keyed up, nervous, and started at every faint sound from the river or thickets. From the ruined city came indistinct noises for which he could not account, and he found himself listening with straining ears, peering into the darkness, his scalp a-tingle, and his pulses throbbing, as if expecting something to happen. And he could not prevent his mind from dwelling on memories of the black cannibals, the horrible sight of the peaiman's roasting body, and other unpleasant matters. But at last, by a tremendous effort of will, and cursing himself for his foolishness, he turned over, closed his eyes and dozed off.

Suddenly he jerked upright. Something had aroused him again. Vaguely in his mind he seemed to have heard a strange humming sound. Then, before he had fully regained his senses, there was a deafening crash from the distance, followed by a faint, far-away scream.

"For God's sake, Ned, wake up!" he shouted, shaking the explorer.

"Wha-what's the matter?" demanded the other sleepily, as he sat up rubbing his eyes.

"Damned if I know," replied Belmont. "Something woke me—some strange noise. Then there was a terrific crash and a scream."

"And you rouse me out of a fine sleep for that!" exclaimed Thornton disgustedly. "Just a tree falling somewhere, or perhaps some old wall in the city."

"But some one screamed," persisted the engineer, "and there was a darned queer humming noise, too."

"Just the crackling of branches as the tree fell," yawned Thornton. "And the yowl of some beast frightened by it. For heaven's sake, go to sleep."

"Me sabby tree makeum fall," muttered Joseph, who had also been aroused. "Me hearum."

Chagrined that he had let his nerves get the best of him, Belmont again threw himself down, but while his comrades were soon sleeping soundly, he remained awake. How long he lay there, peering into the darkness he never knew. Suddenly he started up. His tensed ears had caught the sound of a breaking branch, the noise of some creature forcing its way through the brush.

Grasping his gun, he listened, ready for action. Then another sound issued from the darkness—the panting, labored breath of some creature, and hurried footsteps seemingly close at hand. Not knowing what to expect, Belmont rose silently and peered searchingly in the direction of the sounds, his gun cocked and ready. The next instant the surrounding thicket parted, a dark form cowered in the shadows, and Belmont threw up his gun. Before he could pull the trigger, there was a frightened cry and the lurking figure sprang forward into the moonlight.

Belmont stood gaping, round eyed, with sagging jaw, trembling from head to foot at thought of how near he had been to shooting. Before him stood a human being. It was no Indian, for it was clad in khaki shirt and breeches, the garments torn and ragged. The gun dropped from the engineer's nerveless hands, and as the strange figure lurched towards him, he uttered a strange astounded, inarticulate cry. The face, white in the moonlight, was ghastly with blood, and long fair hair streamed over the shoulders. It was a woman—and white!

Belmont leaped forward and caught her as she swayed.

"Oh, thank God you're white!" gasped the girl, as she fell fainting in his arms.

Thornton and Joseph, aroused by the voices, sprang to their feet. "What the—" the explorer's words ended abruptly, as he caught sight of the limp figure in the other's arms. Then, as he saw the long blonde hair and the pale, blood-streaked face, "Lord!" he gasped, "It's a girl!"

Very gently, Belmont deposited his burden on the couch of palm leaves, and tenderly bathed the blood from her features. "Thank heaven she's not badly hurt," he announced. "only a cut on her forehead. Now where in blazes do you suppose she came from? Great Scott, do you suppose it's possible she's the one who's been looking after the place and putting flowers at the idol's feet?"

"I'll be hanged if I know what to think," replied Thornton, who had been standing gazing at the girl as if in a dream. "All I know is that she's a white woman, but the Lord alone knows who she is or how she got here."

"She talks English, too," announced the engineer. "By Jove, perhaps she was a prisoner of the Indians."

"Mysteries on mysteries," exclaimed Thornton. "She's coming to. We'll learn the truth in a moment."

The girl's chest heaved as a deep breath shook her, her eyelids fluttered open, and her clear-blue eyes opened in wide amazement as she stared, half-frightened, into the bronzed, bearded faces of the two men. Slowly a look of comprehension and relief swept across her face, and her lips parted in a smile. With an effort she tried to sit up, but Belmont gently restrained her.

"Don't exert yourself," he cautioned her. "Let me bandage this cut first."

"I'm—I'm all right now," she murmured, and the sound of a woman's voice thrilled the two men strangely. "I was terribly frightened," she continued, "and—and I think I must have lost my head. You're English, aren't you?"

"No, Americans," replied the engineer, as he bandaged the wound with a strip of cloth which he nonchalantly tore from the girl's own garments.

"Americans!" she exclaimed in evident surprise, "Oh, that's all the better. I'm American, too."

"But where on earth—how did you get here? What happened?" queried Thornton.

"In the plane," was the girl's astounding reply. "It crashed—"

"Plane!" cried Belmont. "Anyone else in it? Anyone hurt or killed? Where is it?"

She shook her head. "No, I was alone," she smiled. "It's over by the lake. You see—"

"You're a fine pair of bushmen," exclaimed Belmont, interrupting her words and addressing Thornton and the Indian. "Said a tree fell and a jaguar howled. It was the plane I heard. Pardon me for interrupting you, Miss—?"

"Lee," the girl supplied. "It was my brother's plane —or rather the Bauxite Company's. Ted was taken with fever at Akyma and couldn't fly. They wanted some important papers from Surinam—from the Marowyne properties, in a hurry, and so I took the plane. I've flown it often before. As long as the plane held I was safe."

"But this place is miles from Akyma or the Marowyne," said Thornton, a puzzled frown on his forehead. "How did you get so far from your course? And why on earth did you start from Akyma at night?"

"I didn't," smiled the girl. "I reached the Marowyne safely and started back. Then I had motor trouble and was forced down at Berbice. By the time I could hop off again it was nearly dark, but I thought I could make Akyma before it was too dark to see—it's light so much longer at an altitude, you know. But I must have lost my way, somehow. The country didn't look familiar, and then I saw a town. I knew it wasn't Akyma, and I'd never heard of any large town in the bush, and I was puzzled because there were no lights in the houses. But I knew I was lost and must come down. Then I saw your fire and the lake seemed a nice place to land, and I came down. But something was wrong. I saw a big white wall before me, and the next minute the plane crashed. When I came to I was dazed and my face was covered with blood, and I was horribly frightened, because everything was so still and sort of dead and mysterious. Then I remembered the fire and knew someone must be here, and I ran towards it. But I never dreamed I would find white men. And, Oh, I'm so glad it's you and that you are Americans."

"You poor little thing!" exclaimed Belmont. "No wonder you were scared. But you're safe and all right now. I guess the Bauxite Company will have to wait a while for their papers, though. Now just rest until morning and you'll be as well as ever."

"Are you hungry?" asked the matter-of-fact explorer.

"Perhaps I am," she confessed. "But really I'm so shaken that I hardly know."

Thornton turned to give orders to Joseph to prepare some food. But the Indian, who instinctively associated breakfast with rising, and who had not exhibited the least surprise at sight of the girl, was already broiling fish and quail over the fire. In a few moments he approached with the viands.

"It's not much," apologized Thornton. "No salt or seasoning, but the best we have."

Miss Lee, however, was not finicky. She had eaten nothing for many hours, and she declared that the food was delicious and ate heartily.

"Now, please tell me where I am and all about yourselves," she begged, as with a satisfied sigh she finished her impromptu meal. "I can't sleep, and I know there is something strange and mysterious here. I can just feel it."

"Go ahead, spin the yarn, Ned," urged Belmont.

The girl listened with wide eyes and parted lips as Thornton rapidly told her of their adventures. As he mentioned the cannibals—omitting, however, some of the most gruesome details, she shuddered and glanced nervously about.

"It's simply wonderful!" she cried, as he ended. "And to think that this is really that fabulous city! I've heard about it—Ted used to joke about searching for it with the plane someday, and now I've tumbled right into it. Won't he be envious!"

"Thank the Lord you were not killed," exclaimed Belmont. "And it's a miracle you were not," he continued. "No wonder that ridge around the lake fooled you. From the air it would look like a flat beach, of course, and no one would ever guess that it stuck up sixty to one hundred feet above the water. It seems to me the only way to get to this place is to tumble into it. We practically fell in ourselves. Now the question is, how can we get out?"

"We'll start building a woodskin today," declared Thornton. "I had planned to remain for a time to study the ruins thoroughly. But Miss Lee's arrival changes our plans. We must get away as soon as possible. They'll be worrying over her at Akyma, and there are the papers to be delivered."

"By Jove!" ejaculated the engineer. "I've an idea. Do you think the plane is wrecked beyond repair, Miss Lee?"

"I really don't know," she assured him. "I didn't stop to examine it. But I know the propeller is smashed and probably the motor is ruined. It was a Wright Whirlwind, and must have hit the bank."

"Possibly the hull is uninjured," suggested Thornton. "I judge it is an Amphibian. If so, we may be able to use it in place of a woodskin. We'll find out what shape the machine is in, as soon as it is daylight. That won't be long now, the sun is already rising."

As they had been talking, Joseph had slipped off with his bow and arrows, and he now returned with several fish. Breakfast was soon over, and the four then made their way to the wrecked plane, which they found with its nose buried deeply in the side of the lake's rim. The forward portion was a hopeless wreck, and Thornton's hopes of finding the boat-like pontoon in serviceable shape were dashed, for the frail hull was split from end to end and quite beyond repair.

"Now that I see the wreck I'm convinced that it was by a miracle that you escaped death, Miss Lee," de-cleared the explorer. "Only the fact that you were thrown clear of the machine saved your life."

"Please don't call me Miss Lee," laughed the girl. "It sounds horribly formal and unfriendly. I'd much rather be called Kathryn, or Kitty or Kit—anything as long as it's not Kate."

"Good!" agreed Thornton. "Kathryn is a favorite name of mine."

"And I'm crazy over Kitty," added Belmont.

"Name or girl?" queried the other.

"Both," declared the engineer, looking straight into the girl's blue eyes.

She laughed merrily. "You are both awfully nice," she declared, "and I'm so glad you are not terribly severe and serious—the way I thought all explorers were. And I'm going to reciprocate and call you Frank and Ned— if you don't mind."

"Not a bit," replied the two in chorus.

"Perhaps there's something in the plane that we might use," she reminded them, a moment later. "There's a tool-kit and compass and the instruments and a thermos bottle and some other things."

"And the papers also," said Thornton. "Come on, Frank, let's salvage all we can."

The plane yielded a great deal that would prove of inestimable value to the party, both while in the valley and on their proposed journey towards civilization. Joseph was loaded down as he made trip after trip back and forth from the plane to the camp, but at last everything of value had been salvaged.

Then, as the Indian prepared to commence making a woodskin, Thornton suggested that they should visit the city and make the most of their opportunity.

"Sure—let's go over to the National Bank," laughed Belmont. "Miss—Kitty will want to see old El Dorado and the treasure vault. And we might just as well carry away some of those ingots and a lot of the golden moons."

As they strolled along, Belmont exhibited the jaguar skin, pointed out the broken cornice, and explained how he and Thornton had reached it by way of the tunnel. She was, of course, tremendously interested and was filled with wonder at all she saw. And when they reached the temple, and she gazed upon the golden idol, she was overwhelmed with amazement. Thornton described the moving walls and explained how they were operated.

"I'll give a demonstration," announced Belmont "Just watch the walls when I pull down the arm."

As he spoke, he climbed upon the throne, and the next instant leaped back, staring at the base of the idol. "Well I'll be—" he burst out and checked himself. "Look here, Ned!"

The others hurried to him and Thornton cried out in surprise. Piled about the god's feet were freshly cut a flowers, a basket of fruit, and a roasted wild turkey.

The explorer emitted a long whistle and glanced suspiciously about. "Those things were not here yesterday," he declared. "Someone has been here during the night."

"I'll say he has," agreed Belmont- "This thing is getting on my nerves. Where in blazes do the rascals hide themselves during the day?" a

"You mean Indians have been here?" asked the girl, with a startled glance about the temple, and drawing closer to the two men.

"It looks that way," admitted Thornton. "Those, offerings most certainly were not here yesterday. But whoever placed them there had no wish to be seen. I don't think there is any danger. All the Guiana Indians are peaceful. They—"

"The deuce they are," interrupted Belmont. "How about those cannibals?"

Thornton smiled wryly. "I'll have to make an exception in their case," he confessed. "Besides, I don't admit they were Guiana Indians. They may have been in Brazil. As I was about to say, whoever has been here must know of our presence, and yet they have not molested us. I think there is only one man, a peaiman probably, who is paying devotions to his ancestral god and is anxious to evade observation."

"It's blamed spooky and mysterious, anyway," declared the engineer with a forced laugh. "I don't like the idea of some chap sneaking about in the night. But I guess you're right about his being harmless. He has had plenty of chances to get us in the night if he wanted to. Anyway, we should worry. Now watch, Kitty, and I'll show you the combination to El Dorado's safe deposit vault."

Once more climbing upon the throne, the engineer pulled down the arm, the door closed, and the wall opened as before.

"It's simply marvelous!" cried the girl. "And no one can get in here while we are down below. Oh, I'm so glad I crashed and found you. It's a wonderful adventure."

Descending the stairs, the three reached the space below the idol, and Kathryn clapped her hands with delight as she peered through the god's mouth. Then she was shown the treasure, and she begged Belmont and Thornton to take her through the tunnel to the building where the jaguar had been killed. This time they were equipped with an electric torch salvaged from the plane, and their progress through the dark passageway was easy and rapid. Thornton had remained behind, anxious to devote every minute to a study of the carvings and other features of the temple, and Belmont hurried on with the girl. As they mounted to the top of the long stairway, and Belmont glanced out through the broken cornice, a half-smothered cry rose to his lips, and leaping back, he raised his hand in a gesture for silence.

"What is it?" What did you see?" asked the girl in a whisper.

Very cautiously the engineer approached the aperture and peered through a crack. Then he beckoned to Kathryn. Stooping, she looked through the crevice and could scarcely suppress a cry at what he saw. Below, and examining the jaguar skin, was a painted naked Indian!

"Come," whispered Belmont. "We must tell Thornton, That's the fellow who has been sneaking about. He may be harmless, but he looks blamed dangerous to me."

As they burst into the temple, Thornton looked up, and knew instantly that something was wrong. Before he could frame a question, Belmont was speaking.

"There's an Indian out there," he exclaimed. "He was looking at the jaguar's skin. He must be the one who left the flowers and things. Come along and look at him. He didn't see us and I don't know whether or not he's a savage."

Before he had ceased, the three were hurrying along the tunnel, but when they at last reached the broken cornice the room below was deserted.

"If Kathryn hadn't seen him, I should think you had been seeing things," declared the explorer. "What did he look like?"

"Like an out-and-out savage," replied the engineer. "I'm afraid I can't describe him very well. He was light colored—sort of yellow, painted like a barber's pole, and wore a sort of skirt about his middle."

"And he had on tooth necklaces and gold bracelets and a feather crown," added Kathryn.

"That description might fit any Guiana Indian," commented Thornton. "Perhaps we can find him if we go outside. He'll be peaceable no doubt. And there is a chance that he has a canoe or that he can guide us out of this place."

"Hold on," exclaimed Belmont. "I'm going to take another look from the tip-top of this place. If there are any Indians about I can see them from there. Somehow I can't feel so sure about that chap being alone or so everlastingly friendly."

Climbing up the stonework, the engineer reached the top of the building and swept valley and city with searching eyes. But there was nothing suspicious, nothing to cause alarm. Down by the river he could see Joseph busy at the woodskin, but not another living being was in sight.

"No one but Joseph about," he announced, as he clambered back and joined the others. "I'm beginning to think we saw a ghost. Seems to me, if that Indian had been flesh and blood, he would have gone over for a pow-wow with Joseph.”

"Not if he was a peaiman and didn't wish to be seen," Thornton reminded the other. "He's probably far more afraid of us than we are of him. He may even think we are supernatural beings, especially if he saw us go into the temple and saw the door close after us."

This new mystery of the lone Indian had driven all thoughts of treasure from the minds of the three, and they hurried through the passages to the temple. Then the idol's arm was swung up, the door opened, and they started up the avenue, towards the building where the Indian had been seen.

But no trace of his presence could be found, and as it was almost noon, they made their way towards camp. Belmont strolled off for a hunt, and soon after the others heard the report of his gun and he returned carrying a big pheasant-like bird. They found the woodskin well under way, and Joseph assured them that it would be completed by nightfall. All were in high spirits as they dined and chatted, and planned their approaching journey.

"We'll get off tomorrow," declared Thornton, "and —" his words were cut short by a low cry from Joseph. There was a strange, swishing sound, and a long arrow thudded into the earth by the explorer's side.

Belmont seized his gun and leaped to his feet with a sharp command to Kathryn to lie flat on the ground. With keen eyes the two men searched the surrounding thickets, while Joseph, bow and arrows in hand, vanished as if swallowed up by the earth. For a breath, all was silence. Not a leaf rustled, not a twig cracked, and the two white men stood tense, every nerve tingling, every sense on the alert, waiting for the next hostile arrow, for some sign of the enemy, who they knew must be lurking near.

Kathryn broke the silence. "Ned," she whispered, rising to a sitting posture, "take this, you are unarmed."

Thornton glanced down. She was holding out a vicious-looking automatic. "Ted made me carry it," she explained. "But you can use it better than I. You can talk Indian, Ned. Can't you call out and say we are friends?"

Thornton grinned as he took the proffered weapon. "I'll try," he muttered. Then, in a loud clear voice, he shouted the peace greeting in the Akawoia tongue, in Carib and in Taruma. But there was no response. Then, suddenly and without warning, a guttural cry of pain issued from the thicket, and half a dozen six-foot arrows sang through the air. With a stifled cry, Thornton lurched to one side as a searing pain shot through his left arm. At the same instant, Belmon'ts gun roared. At the report, a wild, blood-curling cry rang out, there was a crackling of brush, and Thornton checked himself just in time to avoid shooting Joseph who leaped, wild eyed, into the camp.

Forgetting talky-talky in his excitement, the Indian ripped out a rapid string of Arekuna words.

"There's a couple of dozen of them," cried Thornton, as Joseph finished "Joseph has wounded one, and the others have drawn off, afraid of your gun. But they'll come back. Our only hope is the temple. Come on. Look after Kathryn, Frank. I'm winged!"

Turning, the four rushed towards the city, dashed up the avenue, and reached the temple steps. As they bounded through the open door, they turned and looked back. Rushing after them yelling like fiends, came a crowd of painted savages, brandishing bows and clubs, with gaudy feather-crowns waving above their heads, with the sun glinting on golden necklets, nose ornaments and arm-bands.

Seizing the girl and lifting her from her feet, Belmont leaped within the temple, dropped Kathryn upon the floor, sprang to the throne and pulled frantically at the gold arm. Silently, slowly, the massive stones moved, and as the first of the savages reached the foot of the steps, the door shut tight with a slight jar.

"Whew!" exclaimed the engineer, as he leaped down from the idol. "That was a close shave. Say, Ned, I thought you said the Guiana Indians were peaceful. A dashed peaceful looking lot those fellows are."

"Don't hit a man when he's down," muttered the explorer with a wry grin. "But get a bandage around this arm of mine. It's bleeding like a stuck pig."

Before Belmont could move, the girl was at Thornton's side. "Oh, you poor man!" she cried. "Let me fix it."

Flushing scarlet, she turned her back for an instant, and then wheeled about with a lacy bit of intimate feminine apparel in her hand. Belmont had meanwhile ripped away the sleeve about the wound. Very deftly the girl bound it with the fragment of her lingerie, and bandaged the whole with strips torn from Thornton's ragged shirt.

"It's only a flesh wound," declared the explorer, as she worked. "And I don't think those arrows were poisoned."

"Lucky dog," growled Belmont. "I've half a mind to go out and let them fill me full of holes, that is, if Kitty will bandage me up that way."

The girl blushed furiously. "Fran—Mr. Belmont, you're perfectly horrid," she declared, but the expression of her eyes belied her words. Then, "Did you shoot one of them?" she asked.

"I don't know, but I hope so," replied the engineer. "I had a glimpse of something moving and let drive with both barrels."

"Me tellum you all same one damn fool," burst out Joseph, so suddenly and explosively that all jumped. "Me tellum you make for shootum me."

"Wha—what the—" began Belmont, and then sprang to the Indian's side. Joseph had turned his naked bronze back, and for the first time the others saw that it was covered with blood.

"Great Scott!" cried Belmont. "You don't say— Jove, that's too damn bad, Joseph. Here, let me see it. I'm an everlasting da—darned fool."

The Indian grinned, as Belmont and Thornton, with Kathyrn hovering about, wiped the blood from his skin. "Me all right," he muttered. "That feller shots no make killum Buckman."

"It's lucky he was far enough away so the shot scattered," said Thornton, as he picked the shot from under the Indian's skin. "And still luckier that he was back to so he didn't get the charge in his eyes."

"I'll never forgive myself," declared Belmont contritely. "But say, how on earth did I get a shot into his forehead?"

"Him feller arrow," muttered Joseph, as if an arrow wound was of no consequence. "Him no do for kill. Him arrow no gotum poison."

"That relieves my mind," said Thornton, as the last shot was picked from the Arekuna's back, and the wounds, as well as the arrow cut, were bandaged.

"I was a bit afraid that those rascals might have used poisoned arrows."

"Who the deuce are those rascals, anyway?" asked Belmont. "If all the Guiana redskins are so peaceful, why should they jump us that way?"

"It's just one more mystery added to the others," replied the explorer. "I think probably they resented our presence here. I confess I don't know who they are. Possibly Joseph recognized them."

But the Arekuna declared the enemies were tribes-men such as he had never seen before, and insisted sullenly that they were "peai."

"We're snug and safe enough here, at all events," said Belmont. "I wonder how long they'll hang around outside."

"Yes, we're safe enough—from our enemies," agreed Thornton. "But we're in a bad fix. We're shut in here without water or food. Not much better than being out where they can get us."

Belmont whistled. Then he chuckled. "Not on your I life, are we without food," he cried. "We'll rob old El Dorado of his grub. Food fit for the gods ought to be good enough for mortals."

"I'd forgotten that," confessed Thornton. "Yes, the fruit and meat will keep us alive for a day or two. But water—that's the most important matter."

"Oh, how lucky!" cried Kathryn. "I just remembered that I left the thermos bottle full of water up there where we saw the Indian this morning. I was so excited I forgot all about it."

"You careless kid," laughed Belmont. "You ought to be kissed for that."

"You'd better not try," retorted the girl. "And you can't talk about being careless. Just look at Joseph's back when you need a reminder."

"I guess that will hold me for a while," said the engineer, pretending to look crestfallen. "But all joking aside, this water business is serious. The thermos bottle won't last us over twenty-four hours at the most."

"Well, don't let's begin crossing bridges before we come to them," said Kathryn. "We're here, and those bloodthirsty Indians are outside. And somehow I have a feeling that it will all come out right, and—and if it doesn't, we have done our best."

"You're right, Kit," declared Belmont soberly, as he laid his hand on the girl's shoulder. "You're a brave girl and we will get through all right."

"Of course we will," the explorer assured them. "While there is life there is not only hope but no need to give a thought to death. And we're a mighty live crowd yet."

"I'm off to get that thermos bottle," said Belmont. "It will be getting dark soon. Thank heavens I still have that electric torch in my pocket."

"I'm going along, too," declared Kathryn.

"We might as well make it unanimous," laughed Thornton.

Only waiting long enough to fasten the idol's arm in place, the party descended to the underground passage and hurried along the tunnel and up the stairs to the other building.

As they reached the vantage point in the broken cornice, the sound of low voices came from below. Very cautiously they peered down. Gathered about the jaguar skin, and talking excitedly, were more than a dozen Indians.

Obviously the savages were tremendously excited and wrought up. They were gesticulating, talking earnestly, and were constantly stopping to examine the skin as though they had never seen a jaguar before.

"I can't make it out," whispered Thornton. "They're worked up—mad as hornets, over something. And they act almost as if they were afraid of that hide.

They're not like any Indians I've ever seen, either. Their decorations are different and they're lighter colored. In fact, I'm not sure that they are Indians. Some of them have brown hair and beards."

"You're right, and they're strapping big rascals, too," muttered Belmont, "twice as husky as any Indians I've seen in this country."

"Me tellum that feller plenty peai," grunted Joseph. !"Him feller peai, all same gold mans."

"Say, it's a bully chance to scare that bunch out of their wits," exclaimed the engineer. "I can fire a charge of shot into them, and they'll think all the ghosts in the place are after them."

"And bring this whole place crashing down," said the explorer drily. "You seem to have forgotten what happened when you shot the jaguar."

"What will we do then?" demanded the other. "Let them keep us shut up until we starve to death?"

"If they're a party that came here to make offerings they'll soon leave and will take back wonderful tales of the strangers who vanished in the temple and were under the protection of their god," declared Thornton.

"And—Gad, I believe I'm beginning to see daylight. That jaguar you shot was a sacred beast, I'll wager. Probably half domesticated and lived in this building which is sacred. The idol has a jaguar's head, you know. And jaguars appear everywhere in the carvings. No wonder they're mad. That's why they went for us."

"Shouldn't wonder if you're right," growled Belmont, "But why the deuce did they wait so long before going for us; and where did they keep themselves?"

"Hmm, my theory is that they have only just arrived," replied Thornton. "Probably the lone Indian you saw was a scout or an attendant of the idol's, and didn't dare attack us, until his friends arrived."

"Well, there's no use hanging about here," declared the engineer. "It's getting dark. Let's go back to the temple and eat."

Retracing their steps to the temple, they squatted beside the great golden idol and dined on the fruits and game so providentially left by the worshippers of the ancient deity.

"If I only had a rifle, instead of a shotgun, I could stand off the whole bunch," remarked Belmont. "But bird shot is no good, and I've only four shells left."

"We don't want to kill any of them if we can avoid it," declared Thornton. "As it is now, we may be able to get away without being followed. I imagine they'd be satisfied if we cleared out. But if you killed one of them we'd be doomed.”

"And really, they haven't done anything to warrant their being shot," said Kathryn. "Perhaps they mistook us for enemies and would be friendly if we could only make them understand.”

Belmont laughed. "You're a real woman," he declared. "Willing to forgive, and tender-hearted. But it seems to me they did their level best to kill us—back at the camp."

For a time they continued to discuss and devise various plans for escaping from their predicament, but without result, and finally they prepared to sleep. Despite their plight, all slept well and when they arose the sun was shining through the high window and flashing with dazzling brilliancy on the gold idol. The remains of the evening meal provided a meagre breakfast, and half the water in the thermos bottle remained, when they had finished their all too simple morning meal.

As there was nothing else to occupy their time, they decided to investigate the subterranean chambers, and as they descended, Thornton sent Joseph to the other building to see if their enemies were still there.

Kathyn's delight at the chests of gold moons and the piles of ingots, and her wonder at the massive gold machinery, was enough to satisfy even Belmont.

Presently Joseph returned and reported that the Indians had left the building, that the jaguar skin had disappeared, and that, by climbing to the wall-top, he had seen the savages gathered in the street before the temple as if waiting for the door to open.

"Like a crowd waiting for a show to begin," commented Belmont. "Wonder if they think we'll open up and give them a regular song and dance. Perhaps they're going to offer the jaguar's hide as the price of admission."

The explorer was thinking deeply. "I don't know," he said slowly at last, "but what it might be a wise plan to open the doors. If they came in and saw no signs of us, it might fill them with such superstitious terror that they would clear out. The only trouble is, we can't open the door without going up in the temple ourselves."

"Not much, do we let them in," declared Belmont positively, "and have them pulling down the idol's arm, and swarming down here and catching us like rats in a trap."

"I don't believe they know about the arm," said Thornton. "If they adore the god, as we know they do, they would never dare to commit sacrilege by touching him. I wonder if there isn't some means of operating the mechanism from down here. It seems probable to me that the old priests may have provided such an arrangement."

"We might just as well find out," said Belmont, and the two made their way towards the ponderous machinery with Kathryn beside them.

For a time they could find nothing that appeared to be a lever or handle for operating the mechanism from below. As they studied the chains and toggles, the girl wandered about and entered the room containing the chests of gold ornaments. As she passed one of these her foot tripped on some object in the dark shadows, she plunged forward and uttered a startled cry.

Instantly the two men came racing towards her. "What's wrong?" cried Thornton who was the first to reach the spot.

"Nothing serious," she assured him, picking herself up. "I tripped over something and fell. I was startled, but I'm not hurt."

"Thank heaven," exclaimed Belmont, and then, as he glanced down, "Hello, what's this?"

Gleaming dully in the shadows was a heavy metal bar, and, as the engineer tried to lift it, he gave a surprised exclamation. The bar was fastened to the stone.

"It's a handle or a lever," declared Thornton, as they examined it by the light of the electric torch. "Funny place for such a thing. Perhaps it opens some secret door."

"Here goes to find out," said Belmont. "Stand away from the walls. You can't be sure what may happen in this place."

Slowly he heaved upward on the bar. There was a slight rumbling sound, the bar rose to a perpendicular position, but the walls of the room remained as before.

"Didn't do anything," declared the engineer in disappointed tones.

"I'm not so sure of that," said the explorer. "Something certainly moved. Perhaps it operates something outside."

Leaving the room, the three entered the outer passage and glanced curiously about. "Well, I'll be everlastingly hanged!" cried Belmont. "It's the lever we have been looking for."

There was no doubt of it. The entrance to the passage was closed, and faintly from above came the sounds of voices.

"Ssh!" warned Thornton. "The door is open and the Indians are in the temple. I'm going up in the idol to have a look."

With the others at his heels, the explorer silently climbed into the giant god and peered out through the opening in the mouth. Standing in the doorway of the temple, and with one or two of the more courageous with in the vast chamber, were the savages; half-frightened, half-wondering expressions on their faces, and staring intently at the idol.

Presently one of their number, whose ornaments and head dress marked him as a chief or medicine-man, prostrated himself before the god, and instantly the others did likewise. Then he arose and very cautiously approached the idol. As he saw that the offerings of fruit and game had vanished, his eyes fairly bulged, and his jaw sagged in incredible wonder. Then, recovering himself, he commenced to gesticulate and to speak in awed tones. At his words every member of the band turned and with the medicine-man, dashed from the temple. Thornton descended and in a few words related what had taken place. "They were frightened half to death," he chuckled. "It's the first time in their loves that the god ever ate the food they gave him."

"Bully, then we can clear out of here," cried Belmont.

The other shook his head. "Wait a bit," he counseled. "They may still be near. We must be sure they have gone for good and all. There is no sense in walking right into their clutches."

"That's so," agreed Belmont. "Hello, it sounds as if they had come back. Didn't I hear their voices again? I'll have a look this time."

As the engineer peered from the idols mouth he could scarcely suppress a cry of delight and surprise. The savages had returned and, leading the others, two men were carrying a huge basket of fruit, a pile of cassava cakes and a haunch of meat. Bowing and chanting, they placed these offerings reverently on the throne, and backed away through the doorway. Belmont hastily rejoined his companions.

"Hurrah, we're in luck!" he announced. "They've left a regular table-d'hote meal for old gold-bug. They think he's just getting up a good appetite. We can shut the door, go up, get the grub, and whenever we need food all we'll have to do is to open the door and they'll bring in another meal. Talk about service!"

"Hold on!" cried Thornton, as the engineer turned toward the room containing the lever. "Don't open the door until I make certain none of those fellows are in the temple. We can't see behind the idol, but we'll have to risk that. If one or two should get trapped I think we can handle them."

But there was no sign of an enemy in the vast hall, and the explorer gave the word for Belmont to depress the lever. Silently the door of the temple closed. With gun and pistol ready, the two ascended the short flight of stairs with Kathryn and Joseph following. The place was empty, and a few moments later, all were squatted about, eating greedily the welcome food left for the golden god.

"I wish to goodness they'd leave a few jars of water," said Belmont. "But perhaps old El Dorado is not supposed to have a thirst."

"I wish I could speak their dialect," mused Thornton "In that case I could play oracle, and suggest that they include liquid refreshments with their offerings and then betake themselves to their own homes."

"By Jove, that's a darned good scheme!" cried Belmont enthusiastically. "I'll bet, if you spoke from that idol's mouth, you'd have them ready to do anything Just imagine their thoughts when their old god began to eat and then to talk for the first time in centuries. They'd be just about paralyzed."

"Unfortunately, I don't know a word of their language," the explorer reminded him. "While they were conversing I listened, but I could not understand a word."

"But you speak Akawoia," said Kathryn. "They might understand that. Ted has some Akawoia boys working for him, and he says their language is understood by every Guiana Indian."

"Not quite all," Thornton corrected her. "Akawoi is a sort of lingua franca of the bush, it is true, owing to the fact that the Akawoias are traders and go nearly everywhere among the other tribes. It is possible that these men may understand some of the dialect, but doubt it. I've studied them carefully, and I feel sure they are distinct from all other natives of Guiana. Very likely they may be descendants of the pre-Incas who, tradition says, built this city. Their ornaments and crowns are distinctly Peruvian. However, the word for water is either 'toona', 'te' or some very similar word among practically all the South and Central American Indians. It may be well to try it on these fellows. We must have more water very soon or we'll die of thirst, even with the fruit to help out."

"Go to it, old man," said Belmont. "I'm not a bit interested in your ethnological studies or surmises, but I'll back you up on the lingo. They can't leave us any less liquid than we have now, so there is nothing to lose."

"I don't think it wise to try it now," declared the explorer. "We have enough water for the rest of the day, and we can open the door in the morning. If we do it too often it will soon lose its impressive effect. Besides, there is a possibility that they will have left the vicinity by morning."

"Very well, you know best," agreed Belmont. "I'm going to have another look down below. There may be a back entrance to this place."

"That is a possibility," exclaimed Thornton. "It hadn't occurred to me."

The closest search, however, failed to reveal another entrance or any lever or mechanism which might operate a secret door. There was nothing new to be investigated, and after a visit to the other building, whence no sign of the Indians could be seen, the four gathered in the temple and passed the long hours in talking and telling stories. Belmont was sure their enemies had deserted the city, and Thornton agreed that it was not unlikely, as having left such abundant offerings before their god, there would be no reason for their remaining, But neither of the men felt that it would be wise to risk opening the temple door and exposing themselves before the following day.

"If they are still here then they will bring more offerings" declared the explorer. "And if they do not appear we may be reasonably sure that they have left the city."

"Isn't it strange that they do not suspect we are here and have taken the food?" asked the girl. "They saw us go in here."

"They are superstitious and attribute everything they do not understand to magic," Thornton replied. "No doubt they think their god destroyed us and closed the door to prevent them from witnessing our end. When the door opened and they found the temple empty, they would feel convinced of it, for of course they have no suspicion of the underground chambers and secret entrance."

The time dragged slowly, but the light faded at last and the four dined well on the haunch of venison and the remaining fruits. All, however, were suffering from thirst. The sugary fruit did not quench their thirst in the least, and they were conserving every drop of water. Both men merely pretended to drink, in order that the girl might not suffer, and Joseph, realizing the state of affairs, insisted he was not thirsty.

Unless Thornton's ruse worked and the savages brought water the next morning, or unless they managed to escape, all knew that their situation would be desperate indeed. Their only hope, then, would lie in Joseph's suggestion, that he might slip out unseen after dark, and secure water from the stream and return with it undetected. Thornton, however, declared that, if their enemies were still near, there was every likelihood that they would maintain a constant vigil before the temple for fear their god might desire something when no one was on hand to provide for him. But he agreed that if it was humanly possible for anyone to secure water by such means, the Arekuna was the one to succeed. So, once more, they slept within the temple, undisturbed except for parched throats and evil dreams.

As soon as it was broad daylight, the four went below, the door was opened, and Thornton took his place in the idol, prepared to put his scheme into practice if the Indians appeared. At last the subdued voices reached his ears and the chief or peaiman, whichever he was, entered the temple with the others following close behind him.

As they approached the idol with their daily offerings, Thornton placed his lips to the orifice in the god's throat, and in heavy guttural tones, spoke the one word: "Toona". The effect upon the Indians was astounding. For the fraction of a second they stared, trembling, at their god, and then with wild shrieks, they dropped their burdens and dashed headlong from the temple.

"Confound it," cried the explorer, as he descended to the others. "Why was I such an ass not to have known they'd be frightened half to death? Now we're worse off than before. They won't come back to bring food."

"Perhaps they may, when they have recovered from their first fright," said Kathryn hopefully.

"Or better yet, they may be so blamed scared that they'll clear out of the city and valley," said Belmont. "No use blaming yourself, Ned. We'll leave the door open for a while and keep watch. If they do come back with water we'll be all right, and if they don't show up we can feel pretty sure they have gone."

This was a good plan, and Belmont climbed into the idol, while Thornton and Kathryn, with nothing else to do, wandered about studying the chests filled with gold moons. Thinking there might be other articles under these, the explorer began throwing out the golden crescents. For a time the girl helped, and then, finding the work monotonous, she strolled down the passage. As she came to the spot where the smaller tunnel branched off to the other building she felt a draught of fresh air, and to her astonishment, saw an opening in the wall close to the floor. She was positive the aperture had not been there before, and she stooped low and peered into it. The draught was strong, and she was on the point of hurrying back to tell the men of her discovery, when a sudden fancy took possession of her. "I'll just have a look first, and then surprise them" she thought to herself. "I believe I can squeeze through that hole and find out what is on the other side." Assuring herself that the electric torch was in her pocket, she thrust her head and shoulders into the opening and found she could wriggle through. The aperture was too narrow to permit her to use the torch, however, and never dreaming of the terrible risk she ran, she forced her slender body along, feeling with her hands for possible steps or a sudden descent. Very soon, the size of the opening increased, she drew out her torch, flashed it about, and found herself in a good sized room. Piled upon the floor and about the walls were countless jars, plates, bowls, vases and urns. Some were of richly decorated pottery, but the majority were of dull-yellow gold. She gasped as she realized the riches that surrounded her, and laughed with glee at thoughts of how surprised the men would be at her discovery. Then she noticed an arched, door-like opening in the farther wall, and anxious to see what wonders might lie beyond, she hurried to it. Entering the low passage, through which cool air drew strongly, she passed along, peering to right and left, searching for possible openings or chambers. Suddenly she halted, listening with bated breath. From ahead came a strange sound, a musical, gurgling noise; the sound of running water.

For a dozen paces she raced along the passage, until her flashing light glinted upon a tiny stream burbling from a crevice and tumbling in a miniature cascade to a basin-like hollow of the rock. With a little cry she dropped to her knees and drank deeply of the cold, crystal-clear liquid. No longer need she and the others fear thirst. She had indeed made a discovery, and elated, she sprang up and hurried back to carry the good news to her friends. As she reached the first chamber, and again saw the scattered vessels, another idea flashed through her mind. She would not return empty-handed, but would bring water with her. Glancing about, she seized a pitcher and hurried back to the spring.

Filling the receptacle to the brim, she again started back, humming gaily, filled with happiness at her discovery. Suddenly she halted, a frightened look in her eyes, her ears straining. From ahead had come a faint rumble, a dull grating sound. Filled with vague terror, her hands shaking so that the water slopped and spilled, she peered into the darkness, shaking in every limb. But once more all was silence. With a little laugh at her own nervousness, and summoning her courage, she stepped forward once more, flashing the light before her. A cry of gripping fear was wrung from her lips. The passageway ended in a solid wall. Shaking, terrified, she dropped her burden and searched the walls, here, there, everywhere. But not a crevice that hinted of an opening was visible.

Dazed, despairing, Kathryn leaned weakly against the wall. She was trapped, shut off, alone in the dark underground passage that led, no one knew where. It was enough to stun anyone, much more a girl, and, now that it was too late, she realized how foolhardy and reckless she had been. Tears filled her eyes, she felt sick and faint as she thought of the awful lingering death awaiting her—death by starvation in the blackness. Then her thoughts turned to the others. What would Belmont and Thornton think when they missed her, when they found that she had mysteriously vanished? They would go almost mad, she knew, especially Belmont, for in his words, his glances, his eyes, she had read his feelings. Now, alone, imprisoned here in the tunnel, she realized fully for the first time that he was everything to her, that she loved him with her whole heart and soul. But that knowledge only made her plight the more terrible, only tortured her the more. She could picture him, rushing madly through the passages, shouting her name, calling aloud, and only the dull echoes answering. They would never think of the tiny opening in the passage; they were unaware of its existence. With that thought came another. Why had they not discovered it before? What had caused it to appear, and why had the opening through which she had come closed? With a tremendous effort, she forced herself to think and reason calmly. Then it dawned upon her. Never before had she or the men entered the passage way while the door of the temple had been open. Always, hitherto, the temple's portal had been closed, while they had been in the subterranean chambers. That must be the answer. The narrow aperture through which she had squeezed herself must open in unison with the temple-door and must close as the door closed. Now she understood. The Indians had returned, they had left their offerings; Belmont had closed the temple door, and in so doing had imprisoned her within the tunnel. Unconsciously, unwittingly, he had locked his loved one in the dismal hole. With these thoughts, with the sudden gleam of realization, her heart beat with renewed hope, and the awful fear within her was lifted. Sooner or later they would open the temple door again. She had only to wait and the wall before her would swing back and she would be free. But how long would it be? If the men had received food they would have no reason to open the door for hours, perhaps not until the following day. Long before then, she knew, she would be unconscious, overcome by the strain, and the chance to escape would pass without her knowledge of it.

She must keep up, must be on the alert, must not give in. She had water, she was not hungry—not terribly hungry—but her nerves were shaken, she was weak from the shock of her predicament, and she was deadly afraid that she might faint. She clenched her fists, bit her lips until they bled, exerted all her will power, and repeating "I won't give up, I won't give up," over and over again, she sat there waiting, waiting in the darkness with the golden pitcher of water by her side. Hours seemed to pass, but still, with wide eyes, forcing herself to be calm and patient, battling against her desire to shriek, to go utterly to pieces, she gazed fixedly at the dark space she knew to be the hidden door. Then, so suddenly, so unexpectedly that she did scream, a grating noise broke the awful silence. With wildly beating heart she flashed on her light and leaped to her feet. Before her a section of the wall was moving aside. She was saved! Already the opening was a foot wide. Forgetting the jug of water, in her mad relief, she squeezed her body through the opening, raced across the chamber, and throwing herself upon the floor, wriggled like a snake through the tiny aperture into the main passage.

As Belmont had peered out through the idol's mouth, not an Indian was in sight, not a sound broke the silence of the temple and the deserted streets. Slowly the minutes slipped by. From the passage below him he could hear the subdued voices of Thornton, Kathryn and Joseph, but finally even these died away as the others moved into the more distant chambers. He was beginning to feel convinced that the Indians had cleared out, bag and baggage, that the voice from their god had frightened them from the city, and that the way was clear for him and his companions to escape in safety. Then, just as he was about to descend and report that the savages had gone, he caught a glimpse of a moving shadow near the door. A feathered head came cautiously into view, and the highly decorated peaiman peered timorously into the temple. For a long minute he gazed, ready to dodge back at the first alarm, and evidently half-expecting to see the huge golden god come to life. Apparently reassured, he reached down, crept slowing into view with a basket of food in his hands, and hesitatingly ascended the steps. His every movement, his expression spoke so eloquently of superstitious terror, that Belmont had an almost irresistible desire to shout, just to witness the fellow turn and run. But he realized that food was all important, and restrained himself, while the Indian, gradually, hesitatingly, drew near. Reaching the topmost step, the peaiman paused. Then, with a sudden dash, he scuttled to the base of the idol, dropped his basket, and turning, dashed away as if the devil were at his heels.

Belmont hurried down and found Thornton still busy with the chests of ornaments.

"They came back," he announced, as he pushed the lever to close the doors. "At least, the old peaiman did. He left food but no water, confound him. Come on, let's eat. Where is Kathryn?"

The explorer glanced about. "Why, she was here a moment ago," he declared.

"Me tellum she go walk that side," asserted Joseph, waving his hand in the direction of the main passage.

"Hello! Oh, Kitty!" shouted Belmont. But there was no reply. "That's strange," he exclaimed, hurrying into the passage.

"Perhaps she went through the tunnel," suggested Thornton.

"Sure, that must be where she is," agreed the engineer. "I'll run along and find her. I expect she wanted to see if any Indians were in sight."

But when he reached the other building and found no trace of the girl, a terrible dread swept over him. He could think of but one explanation for her disappearance. Shaking with fear of what he might see, convinced that Kathryn must have fallen to the pavement below, Belmont forced himself to the opening in the cornice and looked down. A great sigh of relief Escaped his lips. She was not there, thank heaven. But this was scant comfort. She had vanished, mysteriously disappeared. Half crazed, Belmont dashed back, shouting her name, searching wildly where he knew it would be useless to search, until he reached the others.

"Good God!" he cried. "She's not there. She's nowhere in the passage. Nowhere."

"What?" exclaimed Thornton, "Not there? Why, Frank, she must be. There's no other place for her to go. She must be here somewhere!"

Too stunned to speak, utterly dazed at the girl's disappearance, the two white men stood, staring at each other, motionless and silent. It was terrible, incredible, utterly beyond reason to think that the girl could have vanished, leaving no trace, here in the narrow passage and the tiny rooms where there was not a corner nor a spot where she could be hidden, where every inch of the floors and walls was in plain sight.

Joseph's voice broke the silence of the despairing, stunned men. "Me tellum this place plenty peai," he croaked.

"Shut up, you idiot!" commanded Thornton. "It must be explicable," he continued. "Nothing in this world is supernatural. We must keep our heads and reason this out."

Belmont gave vent to a hoarse, almost maniacal laugh. "Supernatural or not, she's gone," he cried. "And yet you stand there talking about keeping our heads! God, how I loved her!"

"Here, here," said Thornton, soothingly. "Don't give up in that way, Frank. Kathryn is somewhere near. She hasn't dissolved in air. Brace yourself and we'll reason out the solution."

"Hell, it's beyond reason!" moaned Belmont, throwing himself down on a chest, and resting his head dejectedly in his hands.

Thornton was thinking intensively, a frown on his forehead, his eyes half-closed. "She was here beside me," he muttered as if to himself, "watching me paw over those moons. Then she left. Joseph says she went down this passage. She's not there nor in the tunnel, and she didn't fall from the cornice. She could not have entered the temple while—by Jove! I have it!"

Belmont leaped up at the other's ejaculation of triumph. "What is it?" he demanded. "Quick, man!"

Thornton sprang to the lever. "She vanished when the temple door was open," he cried. "That's the solution!"

Dazed, uncomprehending, Belmont saw the explorer jerk the lever up and spring into the doorway. The next instant, with a hoarse cry, he dashed Thornton aside and raced down the passage, half fearing he had gone mad, that what he had heard was an hallucination. From the distance had come a cry—Kathryn's voice, calling "Frank! Frank!"

The sound of running feet followed, and the girl threw herself into Belmont's outstretched arms.

"Thank God!" he almost sobbed. "I thought—Oh, my darling, you don't know—" he stammered, his voice breaking, as his arms closed tightly about her and she buried her face on his breast.

She lifted her head and with starry eyes and smiling happy face, looked up. "Yes, I do know—dearest," she whispered. "I love—" his lips smothered the rest of the sentence.

"Some fast worker," chuckled Thornton, as he discreetly turned away, while Joseph stood as unmoved, as immobile as though carved from rock.

Very gently, Kathryn released herself from Belmont's embrace. "Oh, how stupid of me!" she exclaimed. "I had water back there and forgot to bring it."

"Water!" cried Thornton incredulously. "Water!"

In rapid words she told her story as she snuggled close to the engineer's side.

"You poor, poor little girl!" he whispered, and then told her of what had taken place during her absence, and of how he and Thornton had suffered.

"You can't go in there again," he declared with finality, when she again spoke of returning for the water. "No, not even if I do know the confounded doors will stay open."

"That's silly, dear," replied the girl, "We must have water and the opening is too small for you or Ned to get in."

"Joseph might manage it," suggested the explorer. "Let's have a try."

But when they reached the aperture revealed by the opening of the temple door, it was obvious that even the Arekuna could not force his way through.

Thornton examined the place carefully. "There is more than water to be found in there," he announced. "The passage leads to the open air. This draught proves it. But it's hopeless for us. Even if Kathryn can get in, we can't."

"And she is not going to," insisted the engineer. "I'd go mad, thinking of her in there, where she spent such a terrible time."

"It will be different now, darling," argued Kathryn. "You know the doors cannot close, and it's only a few steps. It won't take me a minute, and we can talk back and forth all the time. I'm not the least nervous now. And you know, Frank, we must have water."

"Kathryn is right," declared Thornton. "It is perfectly safe with us here. And as she says water is a necessity. Nothing is going to happen to her this time."

Very reluctantly Belmont agreed, and once more the girl wriggled through the opening and disappeared. "Look through and you can see me," she cried gaily. "I'll call out from the other chamber and you can still hear me."

Throwing himself on his stomach, Belmont poked his head into the opening and could see the wavering beam of Kathryn's light as it played upon the floor of the passage beyond. Soon it disappeared, but a moment later, her voice came back faint and thin. He shouted in return, and presently her light flashed on the stones and she thrust a jar of water into the opening. Belmont rose with the golden vessel, and the next moment Kathryn came squirming from the hole.

"There," she exclaimed triumphantly. "You see, dear, it was perfectly all right. How foolish it would have been—"

She was interrupted by an exclamation from Thornton. "Look here!" he cried. "Here's a ring let into the stone. I believe there's a concealed door here."

The others hurried to his side. In the bright light from the torch they could see a heavy gold ring resting in a circular depression cut into the rock wall.

"There must be a door somewhere," declared Belmont. "It isn't likely that the old chaps, who left that stuff here, sealed it up so they couldn't get it. Come on, Ned, grab hold here and let's yank it open."

But although the two men exerted all their strength, and Joseph tugged with them at the ring, it remained as immovable as the solid rock.

"Hang it all!" cried Belmont in exasperation. "Either it's no door, or else it's locked."

Possibly it slides or has to be pushed or lifted," suggested the explorer. But despite every effort to move it in any direction, it remained fast.

"Strange," muttered Thornton. "There is no sign of a lock or bolt, and this ring was most certainly placed here for a purpose. There must be a solution."

As he spoke, he searched carefully over the walls from ceiling to floor. "Ha!" he exclaimed suddenly, "There's another ring on this side. It's so overgrown with lichens that I overlooked it."

Once more the three men strained, pushed, pulled and twisted; but the second ring gave no more indication of yielding than the first.

"I give up," declared Belmont, wiping the perspiration from his face.

"Never give up," Thornton admonished him. "I tell you, Frank, that passage leads out of here, and there must be a door. Let me think. Possibly—yes, I'll wager that's it. When I pull on one ring, you pull on the other. All ready? When I give the word, altogether! One, two, three!"

At the third count the two men pulled. There was a slight creaking, grating sound and the solid wall opened before their amazed eyes.

"Well, I'll be—" began Belmont. "Great Scott, that's clever."

"Yet very simple," added the other. "Just two doors with their edges so dove-tailed and so pivoted that each locks the other and one cannot be opened by itself. And look here," he continued, as he knelt on the floor. "They cannot be opened when the door of the temple is closed and this small aperture is shut. The block of stone that closes this hole also bolts these doors."

"It's the cleverest thing I've seen yet," agreed the engineer. "But I'm a darned sight more interested in getting out of here than in examining their burglar-proof locks."

"There's plenty of time," Thornton reminded him. "We'll go back to the temple and eat. No use going hungry, and I'll wager that Kathryn is nearly famished."

"Great Scott, yes!" ejaculated Belmont. "Poor girl, you must think me a beastly selfish chap. I'd forgotten all about grub. I ought to be kicked."

Closing the doors, and with Joseph carrying the jar of water, they hurried back along the passage. Thornton climbed into the idol and made certain no enemies were in sight; Belmont swung the lever, and entering the temple, they prepared to dine. The basket of food was still upon the floor where the peaiman had dropped it, and Thornton declared this was a promising sign and that he believed the Indians had at last left the city.

"If they were near they assuredly would have come here when the door was open for such a long time," he explained. "And if they had been here, and had seen the food still on the floor and untouched, they would have reasoned that their god was displeased and would have placed the basket on the throne."

"Maybe," muttered the engineer, "but I'm not taking any chances with Kitty. We'll explore the new passage and see where it comes out. If it leads to the air at any distance from the temple we can lure the Indians here by opening the door, and then run down there and make our escape while they're kow-towing to their old idol."

Thornton nodded his approval. "True," he said, "but we must be very careful about exploring that passage. It is not at all impossible that the Indians, or whoever they are, know of the other exit and are guarding it."

Feeling greatly refreshed by their meal, the four rose, and made their way to the newly-discovered tunnel. Once more Belmont and Thornton pulled in unison on the metal rings. Then they looked at each other in amazement. The doors remained immovable!

"Hang it!" cried Belmont. "Something's wrong. Why in thunder didn't we leave the doors open ?"

Thornton burst into hearty laughter. "We are idiots!" he exclaimed. "We forgot to open the temple door."

Hurrying back, he swung the lever and the doors swung as readily as before. As they passed through the room containing the golden vessels, Belmont's eyes bulged at the treasure scattered about, while Thornton uttered ejaculations of wonder and delight at the archeological value of the ancient utensils. Crossing their room, they entered the tunnel where Kathryn had been trapped, and hurried towards the sound of the falling water. They had almost reached the little cascade when, from their rear, came a faint sound—a rumbling jar.

Instantly all halted in their tracks, listening with tense ears. The next moment Thornton turned and dashed back along the passage. Presently he returned. "It was just as I feared," he announced. "We are cut off from returning. The doors are closed and locked."

"What?" shouted Belmont. "You don't mean it! How the devil—"

"Yes," replied the other. "Either the arm of the idol or the lever slipped, or else the Indians have discovered the secret of the god's arm. The way back is sealed."

For a time the three stood silent. Then Belmont drew Kathryn to him. "I guess it doesn't make much difference, after all," he said, striving to speak confidentially, "as long as this passage leads to the open air. Besides, if the Indians shut the door of the temple, they'll find themselves locked in and will have to open it to get out; then we can get back."

"Let us hope it was an accident," said the explorer. "If those fellows have learned the secret of the idol, we'll be worse off than with the place irretrievably shut. If they don't get into the passage and follow us, I'll be satisfied."

"Confound the luck!" cried Belmont. "We left those doors open. They're sure to find them."

"I don't think there is any danger," the other assured them. "Even if the Indians descended to the passage —assuming that they operated the levers, which I doubt, and found the outer doors open, the inner entrance to this place is shut and can only be opened from the idol or the secret lever. No, I feel we are safe enough from them. But we're compelled to get out now. We have no food."

"Don't let's worry yet," pleaded the girl. "We really don't know anything about what is behind us or before us. We are just worrying ourselves over theories and possibilities."

"You're right, darling," declared Belmont, bestowing a caress. "Luck has been with us so far, and we'll trust to it a bit longer. Come on. We'll find where this subway leads."

For an interminable distance they walked along the passage. The walls were slimy and wet, the floor became uneven, and the tunnel twisted and turned. At last, far ahead, they saw a glimmer of light.

"We're nearing the end," announced the explorer. "Now we must be cautious. We don't know where we are, nor whether or not the exit is guarded."

Silently they approached the opening, until within a few yards of it, when they halted. The aperture was small, irregular and partly choked with masses of loose rock and boulders, and was screened by vines, brush and vegetation.

"Our best plan will be to let Joseph sneak out and look around," declared Thornton. "He can determine where we are, and if anyone is near, and we can then plan accordingly."

A moment later the Arekuna slipped like a lizard among the rocks and was lost to view. Patiently and silently the three waited. But at last the bushes, silhouetted against the light, swayed gently, and on noiseless feet Joseph stepped towards them.

"He says the entrance is close to the river," announced the explorer, as the Arekuna finished speaking in his native dialect. "And no Indians are in sight. Moreover, several canoes are drawn upon the bank a few rods from this entrance. Evidently the Indians came in their craft by way of the stream. The entrance is well hidden among a pile of rocks overgrown with a thicket. I think our best plan is to wait here until dark. Then we will send Joseph out again, and if he finds the way clear, we'll make a dash for the canoes and get away."

"A fine plan, provided the rascals aren't camped alongside their canoes," agreed Belmont. "But at any rate, it's our only chance."

"Joseph says there is no sign of a camp," Thornton replied. "He made his way to the canoes and searched about. I imagine the Indians are camping in the city or close to the temple."

The explorer's plan appeared feasible to all, and with Joseph hidden among the brush at the tunnel's mouth as a guard, the three seated themselves on some fragments of stone, and conversing in low voices, prepared to wait for nightfall.

Every move they were to make was carefully planned, and provided that the savages were not near, there seemed no reason to apprehend discovery.

"There are six canoes," said Thornton. "We will take two of them and tow the other four down stream and set them adrift. Then the Indians cannot follow even if they discover our escape, and by morning we should be miles away. The only problem will be food. I guess we'll have to go hungry until tomorrow. Hello, didn't you bring your gun, Frank?"

"Thunderation, no!" exclaimed Belmont. "I left it back in that room with the gold moons. I am a blithering idiot!"

"Never mind, dear," said Kathryn. "You had only three cartridges anyway. Joseph can always get fish, and perhaps we'll find food in the canoes."

"Too bad," commented the explorer. "But it's no use worrying about it now. I'm afraid I'm not sufficiently expert to shoot game with the automatic, but we'll manage somehow."

Belmont, however, refused to take the matter lightly, and continued to berate himself for his carelessness. But at last, finding it merely depressed the others, and realizing the futility of his regrets, he assumed his ordinary, optimistic, jovial tone and decided to forget it all.

Gradually, as they talked, the entrance to the tunnel grew dim. The outlines of the vines and branches became invisible, and at last the final glimmer of line was gone and the opening was as black as the interior of the passage.

Presently Joseph approached and reported that he had seen no signs of their enemies, and that no fire was visible.

"All right, let's go," said Belmont, as Thornton translated the Arekuna's words.

With Joseph in the lead, and each member of the party touching the one in advance, they crept from the passage into the open air. Although it had appeared quite dark from within the tunnel, yet the night was clear, and the faint glow of starlight made it possible to distinguish nearby objects. Once away from the pile of rocks, it was easy going, and Joseph led the way unerringly. All about them were small trees, forming, as Joseph had said, a dense thicket. Passing through this, they came out on a weed-grown open space with the river flowing swiftly and with a musical gurgle a few rods distant. Against the silvery sheen of the water they could see the dark outlines of the canoes, and for a moment they halted, listening and waiting for any possible sound or sign of their enemies.

"We'll let Joseph go forward and make sure," whispered Thornton. "We must take no risks. There is still a chance that a guard has been placed by the canoes."

Like a shadow the Indian vanished into the night, and patiently the three waited, crouching motionless at the edge of the thicket.

Suddenly, from the direction of the canoes, came a faint, half-smothered sound, and a rattle as of some object striking wood.

Thornton leaped to his feet. "What the—" His words were cut short by a low cry from Kathryn; there was a rustle behind him, and instantly he wheeled about, reaching for his pistol as he did so. But too late. A dark form hurled itself upon him; he was borne struggling to the earth, and was pinned face down by a heavy, panting body. As he had swung about he had glimpsed other savage figures leaping from the thicket upon his companions. They were captives, prisoners of the strange savages, and Thornton groaned as he thought what their fate might be. Madly, furiously he kicked, writhed and tried to turn. But all to no purpose. He was held in a grip of steel, powerless to free himself. Rapidly he was bound, trussed like a fowl, and a strip of bark-cloth was wrapped about his mouth effectually gagging him. Helpless and silenced, he was jerked to his feet. Wildly he gazed about. On every side moved stealthy, shadowy figures, and he caught the sounds of low-toned guttural words. A few feet distant stood Belmont and the girl, bound and gagged like himself, and each held by two of the savages. All this he took in at a glance. The next instant a covering was thrown over his head, and, unable to speak, blindfolded, he was lifted and carried away.

Thornton felt positive that he and his companion; were doomed. He wondered that the Indians had not struck them down instead of capturing them, and the only explanation he could think of was that they were to be tortured. He knew that none of the known Guiana tribes practised torturing prisoners like their North American cousins, but these savages were of no known tribe. Very probably, he thought, the prisoners were to be sacrificed before the golden idol in order to propitiate the god for the desecration of his temple, for the explorer felt convinced that the Indians had at last discovered that it was the white men who had taken the offerings placed at the idol's feet by the worshippers.

In that case, they were doomed to a terrible fate indeed, and Thornton groaned and writhed in agony of mind as he thought of Kathryn and what was before her.

Better by far had they remained in the underground chambers of the temple. But it was now too late for vain regrets. The very worst had befallen them; the end had come. All these thoughts flashed through Thornton's mind as his captors bore him, like a sack of meal, between them. Then he was dumped, none too gently, on the ground. Again he heard voices, a rattle of wood on wood, and once more he was lifted. There was the splash of water, and with a grunt, his bearers dropped him into a canoe. The craft tipped and swayed; there was a rattle of paddles, and then, by the steady swish of water and the motion of the canoe, Thornton knew the craft was under way.

Where were they taking him? Were the others there also? It was impossible for him to know, for he could not see, could not speak, and could not move hand or foot. One thing, however, was certain. He was not being carried to the temple, so the chances were that the others were not. This was a slight relief, but then again, it might indicate an even worse fate if that were possible. In all probability they were being taken to the Indians' village, and death, perhaps torture, would follow. For himself he cared little. He had faced death daily for years, and had been in so many tight places from which he had escaped by a hair's breadth, that he had ceased to worry over the future. In fact he had become more or less of a fatalist, and as he lay there in the rocking, speeding canoe, his thoughts were all of the others, and his one great regret for his own fate was that, if he were killed, he could never report the astounding discoveries he had made.

For hours the canoe sped on. Several times the sounds of rushing water, the erratic, bounding, leaping motions of the craft, and the excited voices of his captors, told Thornton that they were shooting rapids. Sometimes branches swept across the gunwales of the canoe and showered drops of water upon him, and once or twice, he felt the bottom of the dugout grate on rocks, and by the sounds and splashing, he knew the Indians had leaped out and were lifting and hauling their craft into clear water.

At last, by the light that filtered through the covering over his eyes, he knew that day had dawned. He was now gasping for breath, his throat was dry and parched, the thongs cut into his wrists, arms and ankles, and every bone and muscle ached and pained as if he had been pounded. Would they never stop? Would his captors never remove the stifling gag and give him a drop of blessed water? He began to wish they had made away with him in the first place, for his sufferings were almost beyond human endurance. Then he felt the canoe being run ashore. Once more he was lifted and carried for a short distance; he was placed on the ground, and without warning, the covering was jerked from his head and the gag taken from his mouth.

Thornton gulped, drew a long breath of blessed relief, blinked his eyes and stared about him. He was surrounded by impenetrable jungle, and near him squatted two painted savages, wooden-faced, expressionless. Not another soul was visible.

What had become of his companions? Had they been left behind to provide human sacrifices, while he alone had been carried away? He opened his lips to speak, in the faint hope that the savages might understand some Indian dialect and might reply.

But instantly one of the fellows made a warning gesture, and held up the gag suggestively, and the words died on Thornton's lips. Now one of the men approached with a calabash of water and held it to the explorer's mouth. The other placed cassava bread, a roasted plantain and a smoked leg of wild turkey before him, and loosened the fibre bonds about his arms and wrists. At any rate, the savages had no intention of letting him die of thirst or starvation, and Thornton ate ravenously and, as he did so, racked his brains for some scheme to escape. But he soon gave it up. Any attempt to free himself while the two savages were on hand would be utterly hopeless. They were tremendously muscled—even for Guiana aborigines, and were totally unlike the short, docile people with whom he was familiar. Both were fully six feet in height, powerfully built and perfectly proportioned, and the ease with which he had been seized, bound and carried off bodily, was ample proof of their gigantic strength. Moreover, each carried a blowgun and poisoned darts, as well as a powerful bow, and each had a heavy, hard-wood, ugly-looking club attached to his wrist by a loop of cotton. Even if he drew his pistol—and to his surprise he remembered they had not searched him and had not taken possession of his weapon—the savages could bash out his brains or destroy him with a dart or arrow before he could shoot. And as Thornton saw the blowguns and the deadly wurali-poison-tipped darts he became more than ever puzzled. Why, he wondered, had the fellows not used these in their first attack on the camp?

They could have killed him and his companions without a sound, without the least warning, and without betraying their own presence, and yet they had used bows and arrows instead. The only reasonable explanation he could think of was that the Indians had wished to take the white men prisoners, that they had planned sacrifice or torture from the start. But the savages' behavior had been most mysterious throughout. Even their identity was a puzzle, a mystery. It was hopeless to try to solve it all or to formulate a plan to gain his freedom, and at last Thornton gave up, resigning himself to whatever fate might be in store, but determined to seize the first opportunity to make a dash for liberty.

No sooner had he finished eating and had taken his fill of water, than he was again bound and the covering drawn over his head. But this time, to his intense relief, the gag was not used, although his captors made it very plain, by means of signs and unintelligible words, that any outcry or sound would instantly bring the terrible gag into use.

Once more he was carried to the canoe, the craft was shoved from the shore, and steadily, for hour after hour, they swept on down the stream. Sometimes the sun beat down upon them with terrific heat. At other times they were in semi-darkness, and the dank, cool air told of passing through dense forests. Again and again, they ran rapids; and three times Thornton was lifted from the dugout and was carried along rough paths where, by the distant roaring of water, he knew they were portaging around cataracts. Several times, too, the canoe stopped and water was given him, and towards midday the canoe was run up on a beach and in the midst of the jungle Thornton was fed, exactly as he had been served in the morning. Again, late in the afternoon, this was repeated; but to Thornton's surprise, the savages showed no intentions of making camp. Instead, they again placed him in the canoe and through the darkness continued on their way. He wondered if they would ever rest, if they would ever sleep, and he wondered also where in the world they could be taking him. At the rate they had been traveling he knew they must have covered fully one hundred and fifty miles. They had been going downstream continually, and that would inevitably bring them close to the known districts and semi-civilized tribes. To be sure, they had started off on an unknown, and uncharted river; but he had no means of knowing if they were still on the same stream. In fact, he decided, the chances were that they were not. They might have swung into a larger river, or for all he could tell, they might have crossed from one stream to another, when they carried him blindfolded over portages. But even so, the matter was incomprehensible. There were not, he knew, any unexplored large rivers within the distance of the coast, where he felt sure they must be, unless the stream they had followed wound and twisted endlessly and their progress had not been directly towards the coast. This seemed the only plausible theory. Then another thought occurred to him. Neither he nor Belmont had the least idea where the lost city was situated. For all they knew it might not be in British Guiana. Very possibly it was beyond the boundary, in Surinam, or even in Brazil. That would account for many puzzling things—the unrecognizable savages, the strange dialect they spoke, the unknown river. But then again, Kathryn had flown a long time before sighting the city after leaving Dutch Guiana, and she had flown in a more or less direct line across country. It was all guess work, all supposition, and with his mind on such matters, tired, and lulled by the sound of rippling water, Thornton fell asleep.

He awoke, cramped, shivering with the chill night air, and realized that the canoe was motionless. A moment later he was lifted and carried ashore, placed in a hammock and his bonds loosened. His first thought was that he had reached the journey's end, that he was at the Indians' village. But as he gratefully stretched his cramped limbs and looked about he knew this was not the case. The same two savages squatted near, huddling over a small fire, and there was no sign of other human beings or of huts. The hammock, after the hard, wet bottom of the canoe, was a luxury, and with a wonderful sensation of comfort he once more slumbered.

It was broad daylight when he opened his eyes. Water and food were given him and then, although once more he was blindfolded and the head covering was tied about his neck, his hands were left free. But he was far more comfortable than hitherto, even if he could not see. He could sit up, could shift his position from time to time, and he was no longer cramped and numb. He even considered locating the position of his captors by sound, drawing his automatic and shooting at them. But he quickly abandoned the idea. In the first place, one sat at the bow and the other at the stern of the dugout, and he was between them. Even if he shot one the other could kill him. And in the second place his soul revolted at thought of killing the fellows. They had treated him decently so far, and, for all he knew, Belmont, Kathryn and Joseph might have been shown the same consideration. And after all, as he thought it all over, the savages had behaved pretty well. They had resented the white men's desecration of their temple and their god, but that was only natural and he could not blame them. And, had the Indians so desired, they easily could have killed every member of the party without endangering themselves. No, until his captors gave him more cause, he would not attempt their lives, even to escape.

All day they continued to travel. Stops were made and Thornton was given food and drink as before, and again night came and found them still rushing down the apparently endless river.

Once more Thornton slept, cradled in the bottom of the dugout, and he did not awaken until he was lifted out by his captors. But this time, he was neither dumped upon the ground nor placed in a hammock. Instead, he was rather carefully and gently seated in another canoe, the covering was jerked quickly from his head, and he glanced curiously about.

For a time he could distinguish nothing. But as his eyes became accustomed to the darkness, he saw three figures seated before him in the large dugout. Oddly enough, they were motionless, were not paddling. He peered intently at them, gasped, rubbed his eyes, utterly unable to believe his senses. Was he dreaming? Was he suffering from some strange delusion? Surely it could not be, and yet it must be, it must—yes, there was no question. The figures before him were not his captors, were not savages—they wore clothes. It was incredible, utterly amazing. Then he knew. The dark, huddled forms were those of Kathryn, Belmont and Joseph!

From his lips came a sharp, joyous, surprised cry. Instantly the nearest figure swung about. "Ned!" came in amazed tones from the darkness. "I'll be—"

"Wa-la!" interrupted the guttural voice of the Arekuna. "Me tellum plenty peai!"

"Oh, I can't believe it!" came Kathryn's voice. "It's too wonderful! Where are we? What has happened?" Thornton laughed almost hysterically. "I haven't the remotest idea," he fairly shouted. "We're adrift, alone, Heaven knows where. But unharmed, free. Hello, there's the shore!"

Scarcely had he spoken when the canoe grated against the bank. Thornton grasped the branch of an overhanging tree, and a moment later, the four, so mysteriously and strangely reunited, were on dry land, talking, laughing and, as Belmont put it, "acting like a bunch of kids."

Behind them towered the black shadowy forest; before them lay the dark river. They had no idea where they were, they were without shelter, food or fire, but they were heedless of their plight. It was enough that they were again together, safe, alive and unhurt. Seated there, upon the muddy bank, between the jungle and the river, they waited for the coming day and told one another what had occurred to each one since they had been surprised and captured. Every story was much the same, for all had undergone almost identical experiences. Not one of the four had seen any of the others until they had found themselves here, together in the big canoe, and all laughed as they described how each had mistaken the others for Indians until Thornton had spoken.

"But why did they do it?" queried the girl. "Why did they take us prisoners and carry us all this distance and then let us go? And where are we now?"

"I've spent most of my time trying to puzzle out an answer to those very questions," replied the explorer. "Only one theory seems plausible. Their one idea must have been to get us away from the city and their idol. They had no intention or desire to injure us, probably because they thought us peai or in favor with the god, for they had blow-guns and poisoned darts and could have killed us at any time if they had wished. And they had no intention of letting us ever find our way back, and prohably brought each of us by a separate route. I guess they've succeeded pretty well, too. As nearly as I can make up, they have been doubling on their course, going down one stream and then another, crossing overland at times, paddling through creeks, and threading a maze of waterways. We may be in British or Dutch Guiana, even in Brazil, for all I know, and anywhere from fifty to five hundred miles from civilization. Having reached this spot they thought it far enough for safety and slipped away. It was a clever scheme. And by the way, Frank, it proves I was right when I said the Guiana Indians were peaceful, except of course the cannibals."

"Maybe," conceded the engineer. "But how about the arrows they fired at us? They nicked you and Joseph. Not a very peaceable act, I'd say."

Thornton seemed a bit embarrassed. "Hmm, that was before they stopped to think what they were doing," he replied. "And if they had really desired to kill us then, why didn't they use their poisoned darts?"

"Don't ask me," said Belmont. "But a man might as well be killed outright as to be frightened to death. I never expected to see you again. God, how I suffered thinking of you, sweetheart," he added, drawing Kathryn close.

"No more than I did over you, dear," whispered the girl. "But I felt sure it would all come out well in the end."

"Thank the good Lord that it did," declared Belmont fervently. Then, after a moment: "But they have prevented us from ever getting back after that gold. Manoa is as much lost as it ever was."

Thornton chuckled. "You are a mercenary rascal, Frank," he said. "But what's the matter with going in a plane? Kathryn found the city accidentally, and we ought to be able to find it intentionally."

"Great Scott, that's so!" cried Belmont. "I must be losing what little brains I have left. But somehow, now that we're here, I can hardly believe it was all real until I feel the handful of gold moons and the half-dozen nuggets in my pockets. I'm glad the rascals didn't rob me of these.

Joseph patted his leather pouch significantly. "Me tellum me catchum this time," he grinned. "Him fellers no likeum. Him sabby peai, no touchutn." As he spoke the Arekuna reached in his pouch and drew out a golden ingot.

"Foxy boy!" cried Belmont. "You're fixed for life." Then, pressing Kathryn to him, he added, "And so am I. I found a greater treasure than all the gold in Manoa."

"It looks as if I'm the only one who didn't make good," laughed Thornton. "But even I didn't come empty-handed. See here, I found this among those gold moons in the chest." Reaching in his pocket, he produced a heavy gold circlet studded with four immense, uncut emeralds.

"Well, I'll be—" commenced Belmont. "Say, old man, that's a small fortune."

"Or a unique wedding present," suggested the other with a grin. "Hello, it's nearly daylight. Look, we can see the opposite shore."

Dawn came rapidly, and as the canoe became visible, Joseph rose and went to it. A moment later he turned. "All same gottum grub.” he announced.

The others hurried to him. In the dugout were paddles, a bow and arrows and several cassava cakes wrapped in palm leaves.

"We won't starve at any rate," announced the explorer. "Mighty thoughtful of them. And if we follow the current we're bound to strike the coast or a settlement."

"Sure," assented the engineer. "But which way is the current? Seems to me there isn't any."

Thornton stood silently gazing at the surface of the water. "The current flows that way—to the west," he announced presently. "If you watch those bits of floating twigs and leaves you can see it. But we'll eat before we start."

When their frugal breakfast was over and they again went to the canoe, Belmont gave an exclamation of surprise. "That's blamed queer," he muttered. "The drift is going the other way now, to the east,"

Before Thornton could reply Joseph gave a shout: "Tide he wash!"

"Gad, he's right!" cried the explorer. "We're within reach of tide-water. We are below all the rapids and within one hundred miles of the coast!"

Elated, excited, the four piled into the canoe, and plying paddles with all their strength, the men drove their craft down the creek towards the west.

Dodging sunken logs and snags, crouching low as they swept beneath fallen trees, ploughing through masses of the giant Victoria Regia lily leaves, they sped on. Rapidly the narrow jungle stream widened, and presently a wider creek was seen ahead. Into this they swung, but by now the tide was flowing swiftly against them, and the canoe moved slowly. The creek turned and twisted and gradually it broadened. The jungle gave way to muddy shores covered with mangroves, and as they rounded a sharp bend, the gleam of open water lay before them.

A moment later, and the creek was left astern and they floated on the surface of a broad river. And at the sight which greeted them, a shout rose from all four throats. Across the river, scarcely half a mile distant, was a town! Beside the wooden dock a river steamer was moored; wooden houses shone in the sun; and a tiny locomotive puffed and snorted as it hauled a freight train along the bank.

"Wismar, by all that's wonderful!" yelled Thornton. "And we're in time for the steamer."

Belmont turned with a grin. "Say, Ned," he asked. "Is there a parson there?"

The End

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As an armed forces brat, we lived in Rockcliff (Ottawa), Namao (Edmonton), Southport (Portage La Prairie), Manitoba, and Dad retired to St. Margaret's Bay, NS.
Working with the Federal Govenment for 25 years, Canadian Hydrographic Service, mostly. Now married to Gail Kelly, with two grown children, Luke and Denyse. Retired to my woodlot at Stillwater Lake, NS, on the rainy days I study the life and work of A. Hyatt Verrill 1871-1954.