"What does this mean, Firefly?" he asked of the pony, but the animal could not answer.

Jack heaved a sigh and then drew a pistol he carried.

"I'll fire a shot—that will attract the attention of the others," he reasoned. "What a dunce I was to get lost! I surely make a fine leader!" Throwing up the pistol he discharged it. Hardly had he done so when his pony started to bolt. Away dashed the steed under some trees and then through a mass of vines, and Jack was thrown to the ground, striking on his head as he fell,—and then his senses forsook him.

How long he laid where he had fallen he did not know exactly but when he came to his senses, it was to find darkness around him. There was no rain, but heavy clouds filled the air and a heavy breeze filled the woods around him. He got up slowly, to make certain that no bones were broken, and then looked around for his pony. The animal had disappeared and could not be found. His pistol was also gone.

"Now I am surely in a pickle," reasoned Jack. "The question is, what am I to do next?"

He knew his party must have gone on long before this. He would have to find them in some way. But how?

Not relishing a stay in the bushes he started for higher ground. He had not gone a dozen rods when he found himself at the edge of a ravine, lined with tall trees and vines.

"I certainly did not come that way," he said to himself. "But beyond is higher ground and I had better go up than down."

Thus reasoning, he looked around for some means of getting over the ravine. A number of vines grew across, and he determined to test them and if they were strong enough, to use them as a rope for getting across.

The vines appeared to be as firm as a cable, and without giving the matter a second thought he launched himself forth and started to the other side of the cut in the forest.

He had progressed less than two yards when he felt one end of the vines giving way. He tried to turn back, but it was too late, and down he went.

Some heavy bushes broke his fall somewhat, but he continued to go down and down, until with a dull thud he landed on a mass of soft dirt. He was unharmed and soon arose to his feet, to gaze around in fresh dismay.

He had landed in an opening or cave, and presently went down into it still further. Then, as he picked himself up, he heard a sudden low growl, that filled him with fear. He strained his eyes and made out a small animal, which proved to be the cub of an ocelot.

He followed its course to a litter of leaves and straining his glance in that direction made out two other cubs.

They were too small to be dangerous. Plum had told him that there were very few ocelots in that vicinity and these rather cowardly, unless attacked or enraged.

Jack looked hurriedly around. The parent ocelot was not in evidence. The baby cub he had stumbled over, however, was making a great outcry, and our hero decided he would not linger any longer than was necessary.

He got under the hole he had fallen through. It was not accessible by climbing, for the walls of the cave were perfectly perpendicular and came nowhere near the central aperture.

Jack reached up and caught at the dangling end of the broken vine. It sustained one hard pull, but, as he set his full weight, it tore up roots and all, bringing down a shower of dirt and gravel.

About eight feet over his head the youth made out an exposed root of the tree. It ran out of the solid dirt a few inches, looped, and was again solidly imbedded.

If he could reach this, he could grasp higher pieces of roots that showed plainly, and easily draw himself to terra firma.

Our hero went back to the extreme end of the cave. The young cubs set up outcries of affright as he passed near them, but he paid no attention to them.

He braced for a run and a jump to reach the piece of root that was the bottom rung of a natural ladder to liberty.

Poised on one foot, Jack stood motionless in some dismay. The entrance to the cave was suddenly darkened. A great heavy body dropped through. The mother ocelot landed on four feet on the cave floor with a terrific growl.

She ran first to her crying cubs, nosed them affectionately, and then turned with low, ominous growlings.

Jack saw the beast's eyes fix themselves upon him. They glowed with fire and fury. Its collar ruffled and its white teeth showed.

Jack had not so much as a stick to defend himself with. He had loaned his hunting knife to a friend when they first started and his pistol had been dropped in the woods.

In his pocket was a small pocket knife. He was groping for this when the ocelot, that had for a minute or two stood perfectly motionless, made a forward movement.

It was not a spring or a glide, but a rush. Jack knew why they called this species the Honey Eater. Its paws were enormous and armed with long curved sharp pointed claws.

He was hedged in. The beast, still advancing, reared on its hind feet.

Its forepaws were extended and whipping the air. Jack knew that one contact would tear the bark from the toughest tree. He mechanically seized the first object his groping fingers met in his coat pocket.

It was one of two condiment bottles that he had brought from the last camp. This was the one containing pepper.

In a desperate sort of a way Jack discovered this. He tore off the top of the bottle.

It was all that he could do to stay the course of the determined animal.

As the ocelot thrust out one formidable paw to tear its victim into its clasp, Jack flung the contents of the pepper bottle squarely into its eyes.



Chapter XXV

In the Quicksands



Jack ducked down and dodged the ocelot, and got past the animal. He could do this now, for the whole contents of the pepper bottle had gone squarely into the eyes of the beast.

The effect was indescribable. The animal gave a frightful roar, dropped to the floor, and, rolling over and over, tore frantically with its paws at its blinded, smarting eyes.

The cubs, excited and frightened by the uproar, joined in the chorus. They waddled around, getting in our hero's way, and by their cries arousing the mother from her own distress.

She got upright, and seemed to spot Jack. Her advance, however, was clumsy and at fault, and the youth had time to get out of her way.

A second and a third rush she made at him. The last time one paw struck Jack's coat sleeve and ripped it from place.

"This is getting serious," murmured the lad. "Each time she comes swifter and surer. I must get out of here, now or never."

Jack drove the cubs to their litter, and poked them with his foot. They set up a frantic uproar. This was just what he wanted. The mother flew towards her offspring.

The moment that she did so, Jack glided to the opposite wall of the cave.

He made a sharp run for the opening overhead, calculated poise and distance nicely, and landed with success.

He grabbed the rounding root. It held like iron, but his feet were dangling, and as he swayed there the big ocelot brushed by them on the hunt for the intruder.

Jack held firmly to the root and swung up his other hand. He caught at a higher tree root. Now he had a double hold.

He knew that the ocelot might come after him even up there, and lost no time in climbing from root to root. At last his head projected through the mesh of verdure into clear daylight. Jack lifted himself to solid ground and leaned against the tree trunk, out of breath and perspiring.

"That was action," he panted. "Will the beast come after me? No—but something else may. Oh, the mischief!"

The roars and growlings down in the cave seemed to have attracted outside attention. Jack turned sharply, at the sound of crackling branches and rustling leaves at a densely-verdured spot near at hand.

There burst through the greenery a new enemy. This was an ocelot larger than the one he had just escaped from.

"That is the head of the family, sure," thought Jack. "It's a race, now."

The new feature in the incident came straight for our hero, with bristling muzzle and fiery eyes. Jack started down the edge of the ravine.

It crumbled so that he could not make very rapid progress. To turn aside into the jungle meant to fight his way through thick, thorny bushes. To leap down into the dry water-course was even worse. There, as he knew, the spongy, shifting sand bottom would prevent even the progress of a decent walk.

Jack glanced back over his shoulder. The big ocelot, more sure-footed than himself, was following him up resolutely.

Jack took the first tree he came to. It was a dead one. There were lower branches within reach, and he swung himself up to its first crotch readily. The ocelot did not pause. It started up the tree without delay. Jack armed himself with a piece of a thick limb. Reaching down, as the beast got about four feet away, he delivered a smart whack directly across its snout.

The animal issued a terrific snort. Its eyes blazed madly. A second blow with the club brought the blood, but it kept on climbing.

Jack knew that it would be folly to tempt to battle at any closer quarters. He stood on a dead limb about twenty feet from the ground.

The limb was as thick as his arm, and over thirty feet long. It ran clear across the ravine, and a discovery of this fact gave Jack an idea.

He planned to go out to the far end of the limb, swing from its extremity and drop to the ground, landing on the ether bank of the cut.

The ocelot could not get hold or balance to venture as far out on the limb as the lad dared to go. Jack calculated that the time it lost in getting down to the ground again, would enable him to meantime put a considerable distance between himself and the enemy.

The lad sat astride the dead tree branch and began to walk himself outward from the main trunk of the tree.

The ocelot reached the crotch, surveyed Jack with a savage growl, and carefully planting its feet, started out after him.

Its progress was slow. Jack hitched himself along more rapidly. The branch began to creak. Our hero doubted if it would sustain their double weight. However, he trusted to the wary instinct of the ocelot, which kept coming right forward. Jack was about eight feet from the end of the branch when it gave a very ominous crack. In fact, he saw the white splinters show where it joined the tree.

He swung both feet to one side of the limb, held on only by his fingers, and planned to get to its end hand over hand.

Snap! Jack hurried progress, but it was no use. He saw the ocelot crouch and hug the limb. It gave way at its base. Jack let go. He landed directly on the smooth, sandy bottom of that portion of the ravine.

He struck the ground upright, squarely with both feet. Glancing quickly at the tree, he saw that the branch had whipped right down against the trunk.

The limb had not entirely broken loose, but swayed from several sustaining wood filaments. The ocelot, still hugging the limb, was clawing frantically at the main trunk of the tree to get a new hold there to keep from a tumble.

"It won't do to stop, I see that," murmured Jack. "Ugh! what kind of a mushy mess have I got into?"

Jack looked down at his feet. They had sunk into the sand and were covered to the ankles. With the greatest difficulty he pulled out one foot.

The instant he put it down again in a new spot, however, it sank afresh. He released the other. This threw his weight on a single foot, which went down half way to the knee.

It was not ten feet to the bank of the ravine. Jack lost all interest in the ocelot as he thrilled at a startling discovery.

"Quicksand!" he breathed hastily. "There is not a moment to lose!"

Our hero tugged to get the sunken foot free. He succeeded. Then, half-dancing about, he threw himself flat.

His idea was to make a hurried scramble for the bank on hands and knees. But he uttered a cry of the greatest alarm as his hands went down into the treacherous mass clear to the wrists.

It took a great effort to get upright again. By the time he had done so, Jack realized that he was in a most serious and critical situation.

He was sunk now clear to the knees in a weaving, shifting mass. It circled his imprisoned limbs like great moving ropes, pulling him downward with a suction force that was tremendous.

The youth uttered a grasp of real horror. He could not budge either limb. As he sank to the thighs, he gave himself up for lost.

He saw that no help of any kind whatever was at hand. He knew that the camp of the men who had come with him must be near. He raised his voice to a desperate pitch.

He let out a series of the most piercing yells. But his heart sank, as from the neighboring jungle there instantly arose a mocking imitation from the throats of several parrots.

They drowned out his cries for help. Jack shuddered as the shifting sands wound about his waist. He drew up his tingling fingers with a shock as the mass swept them in ominous, warning contact.

"It is the last of me," thought Jack, as tears of despair came to his eyes. "Jenny and the folks will never know my fate!"

Jack looked up at the dark sky, sick at heart, but trying to resign himself to the terrible fate that hung over him.

His glance shifted to the tree. He instinctively dodged his head to one side as he did so. Something spirited was happening there.

The ocelot had got a clutch on the main tree trunk, now. As it let go of the dangling limb, however, this parted under the strain.

Its small end struck the ground, and it swung out, coming for Jack and threatened to crush him.

The limb fell with a crash, the big end just reaching the west side of the ravine. Its centre grazed our hero's shoulder.

"I am saved!" cried Jack.

He threw one arm tightly around the limb, then the other. Now he was clinging to a natural bridge spanning the ravine from one side to the other.

Jack held on and tugged hard to draw himself up from this quicksand bath.

It was hard work. Finally he got one limb free, then the other. They were numb, and felt like pieces of lead.

Jack was so exhausted with the effort that, crawling on top of the limb, he lay there lengthwise, almost exhausted.



Chapter XXVI

A Night in the Jungle



It was a good quarter of an hour before Jack felt like making another move. As he lay on the log he kept a lookout for the ocelots, but neither of the beasts appeared, the larger having gone to the cave-like opening to learn what was the matter with its mate.

"I must get away from this vicinity," thought our hero, and at last started off.

He scarcely knew in what direction to turn, for the running away of his pony and his adventures with the wild beasts and in the quicksands had completely bewildered him.

"I'd give a good round sum to be back with our party," he thought, as he pushed his way through the jungle. "I wonder if they are out searching for me?"

At last he had to rest again, and thinking himself safe for the time being he set about cleaning his hands and face, and also his outfit.

"This is certainly treasure hunting with a vengeance," he mused. "I think I would have done better had I stuck to the nitrates. Maybe I'll lose my life and the vultures will pick my bones, just as they did poor Plum's."

It made our hero more dismal than ever to think of how Plum had departed, and he was very sober as night drew on and he still found himself alone and with no idea of where he was.

"I'll have to stay here alone in the dark," he said, half aloud. "That won't be pleasant, but it can't be helped."

Soon it was so dark that to advance further would have been foolish.

Accordingly Jack came to a halt, and looked around for some means of making himself comfortable for the night.

He did not deem it wise to remain on the ground, where some wild beast might leap upon him, and so looked for some wide-spreading tree among whose branches he might rest in peace.

At length he found a tree to his liking and having taken a final look around, ascended to a number of the upper branches.

Here there was a sort of natural platform, where he might lie without much danger of falling to the ground.

It was now pitch dark, the clouds obscuring the stars in the heavens. He was very hungry but had absolutely nothing with which to gratify his appetite.

"I'll have to get something for breakfast," he reasoned. "If I don't I'll be likely to starve to death."

It was but natural that Jack should find sleep difficult, and it was a good two hours before he went off soundly. When he awoke it was with a start.

Jack listened intently, for he realized that some movement at the foot of the tree had awakened him. He tried to look downward, but the darkness and the leaves hid everything from view. He waited with bated breath and soon heard a faint scratching. That some wild animal was at the foot of the tree he had no doubt.

"I hope it doesn't try to come up," he thought. "If it does, what am I to do?"

He did not dare to make a noise, and so remained silently on guard. The minutes went by slowly, until a good hour had passed. The noises below continued but that was all.

"Well, even if the beast can't get up it evidently intends to tree me," thought Jack, dismally.

Sleep was out of the question, and rather impatiently the youth waited for the coming of dawn.

At last came a faint light in the east and at last daylight was at hand.

For some time Jack had heard no further noises below him and he fondly hoped the thing on the ground—whatever it was—had gone away. But now the noise was repeated, and then came another sound that made him start in wonder and anticipation.

"Can it be possible!" he murmured, and began to climb down the tree with all speed. Soon he reached the lower branches, and looking downward saw his pony resting directly under him!

"Blind luck!" he cried. "And I thought it was a wild beast! How foolish I was not to come down and take a look!"

Not to scare the pony, Jack called out softly, at which the steed pricked up its ears. Then our hero slid down the tree to the ground and caught the pony by the head. It did not offer to run away, but whinnied with evident satisfaction.

It gave Jack great pleasure to find the pony again, and he felt far less lonely than he had during the night. He mounted into the saddle, and, guided by the sun turned in the direction where he thought the mountain trail might lie.

It was a dull day, a peculiar smoky air filling the jungle.

From a distance came the cry of wild birds, but that was all.

Jack journeyed for a good two hours, and then came to what looked like another ravine. But the banks were not so steep as before and he had but little difficulty in going down one side and getting up the other.

"Well, I never!"

This was the cry that burst from his lips half an hour later. A moment before he had realized that the surroundings looked familiar. Now, on the ground before him, he saw his lost pistol, shining among the grass and leaves.

He lost no time in securing the weapon. It was ready for use and with great satisfaction he placed it in his pocket.

"Now I've got something with which to defend myself," he reasoned. "It may not be as good as a gun, but it is better than nothing."

Onward he went once more, stopping once to get some handsful of berries which he knew were good to eat, and then again for a drink of water for himself and his steed. He had left his former trail, fearful of going in a circle once more,—a common experience of those traveling in a dense forest.

By noon Jack was more than hungry and he decided to shoot something and cook it for a meal. He kept his eyes open, and when some plump birds came close, brought down two with ease. Then a fire was lit, and he spitted the birds and broiled them to his satisfaction. He took his time over the meal, allowing his pony to graze in the meanwhile. Close at hand was a spring of cold, mountain water and at this he quenched his thirst, and the pony did the same.

"There, that makes me feel better," said the youth to himself. "It will last me until nightfall, and by that time I ought to be able to find the others of the party, or gain some regular trail which leads to somewhere."

So speaking Jack started to get into the saddle once more. As he did so, he heard a rustling in the leaves of some bushes behind the spring. The pony gave a violent snort and gave a side step, which threw our hero to the ground.

"Whoa there, Firefly!" he called out. "Whoa, I say!"

But instead of quieting down, the pony became more violent and it was impossible for Jack to hold the steed. The pony broke away and like a flash whirled around and disappeared once more into the jungle.

Somewhat bewildered, Jack stood up and gazed around him.

"What can this mean?" he asked himself. The next instant he saw the reason for the pony's extreme fright. A snake had appeared, coming rapidly over the rocks. It was ten or twelve feet long and as thick as a man's arm. It was hissing viciously and had its glittering eyes fastened full upon our hero!



Chapter XXVII

Jack and the Big Snake



It was no wonder that Jack was both startled and alarmed. The snake was certainly powerful, and the youth knew that many of the reptiles of that vicinity were poisonous. A sting might mean death, and if the snake should wind itself about him, he might be strangled until his breath was gone, never to return.

By instinct more than reason he leaped to one side. At this the snake, hissing louder than ever, did likewise. Then Jack made a wild leap into the air, caught a low-hanging tree branch, and hauled himself upward.

For the time being our hero was clear of the snake, but he felt far from comfortable. He perched himself on the limb and watched the reptile closely. It whipped this way and that over the ground as if in high anger over missing its intended prey.

Thus several minutes passed. The snake circled the tree three times and then began to come up with a quickness that chilled Jack to the bone. There was no help for it, and pulling his pistol, the youth blazed away at the snake. The first shot took no effect, but the second hit the reptile fairly in the body. It whipped around its head for a moment, then came forward as before.

Jack was as far out on the limb as he could get, and now, as the snake came forward, he blazed away a third and fourth time. Then he let himself drop to the ground.

As he did this, the reptile thrashed around wildly in the tree, hitting one limb after another with its tail. Then it came to the ground in a heap, writhing horribly in its death agonies. Jack had wounded it fatally, but the body would continue to move until sundown, if not longer. When the scare was over the youth found himself bathed in a cold perspiration and trembling as if with the ague. He realized that he had had a narrow escape, and thanked providence that the snake was dead.

Jack did not remain in that vicinity long, but set at once to work to find his pony. Fortunately the animal had not gone far on this occasion and a call soon brought the steed to the youth's side. Then Jack hopped into the saddle once more.

"Gracious! what a lot of adventures I am having!" he murmured, as he again rode along. "I hope I don't have any more."

On and on through the forest rode Jack, gradually gaining higher ground. The sun was breaking through the smoky air and this did something towards raising his spirits.

A good two miles covered, and our hero came out in a clearing some distance above the jungle. Here he could get a tolerable view of the surrounding country and he looked eagerly for some trace of his party. To the southward he made out what he took to be the smoke of a camp-fire, but that was all.

"I may as well turn in that direction," he reasoned. "Where there is a fire there must be human beings. And as the war is now at an end it isn't likely that they will harm me."

For some distance the new route was an easy one, but then it became rougher and rougher, until riding was all but impossible. At some points he had to dismount and lead the pony. Once both went into a rocky hollow, Jack barking a shin and the pony skinning a knee.

"I hope this doesn't last very far," thought the youth. The roughness continued a quarter of a mile, when he came out on a beautiful grassy plain, at the rear of which he saw a thatched house and a small garden enclosure containing a score or more of chickens.

As he approached the house an old man came forth to meet him. He viewed Jack with astonishment, for visitors in that lonely spot were rare. "Where does the most noble senor come from?" he asked, bowing low.

"I came from the town far below here," answered Jack. "I have lost my way," and then as well as he was able he described the road he wished to find.

"The Americano senor is a long distance from that road," said the native.

"Can you guide me to it?" questioned the youth, eagerly. "I will pay you well for your services."

At the mention of pay the native showed an increased interest. He was naturally a lazy fellow, but the promise of a Peruvian half dollar made him hustle to take Jack on his way. He too had a pony, and soon the pair set off, across the plateau and then through a sparingly grown forest, where some of the trees were of enormous height.

"What had made the air so smoky?" questioned Jack, as they rode along. "Have there been heavy forest fires?"

"No forest fires, senor," the native answered. "The smoke comes from the bowels of the earth. The rocks have opened once more—we shall soon have an earthquake."

"You think so?" cried Jack. He had experienced several slight earthquakes while in that quarter of the globe, and, though they had done small harm, he dreaded the coming of another quake.

"Yes, senor."

"How soon?"

"Two, three days, it may be—or perhaps a week," answered the native.

After that they rode along in silence for fully half a mile, when they reached a trail running east and west.

"Is this the road the senor is looking for?" asked the native, bringing his pony to a halt.

"I believe it is," answered Jack. "But I must look around first to see if my party has passed this way."

He surveyed the scene with care, but could find no trace of the others. Had they come thus far, or had they turned back, in a hunt for him? Jack was in a quandary over what to do next. Night was again coming on, and he had no desire to remain alone again, after his many adventures of the past twenty-four hours.

"Where can we stop around here?" he asked.

"The senor wants his humble servant to remain with him over night?"

"Yes, unless some other house is handy, and others there."

"There is a house not far away, but it is empty."

"Then let us go to it. It will be better to remain there than to stay in the open."

They went up the trail a short distance, and then turned to the southward and took to a side road leading through a patch of high brushwood. Crossing a tiny mountain torrent, they came in sight of a dilapidated house, one end of which was all but wrecked. To the surprise of both Jack and his guide, smoke was issuing from behind the structure.

"Somebody must be here after all," said the youth, as he rode forward.

"It must be a stranger, senor," was the native's reply.

Not to fall into the hands of enemies Jack advanced with caution. As he rounded the end of the dilapidated house, he saw a bright fire burning among some piled-up stones. In front of this fire a tall young man, dressed in rags, was crouching, cooking something in a battered pan. As Jack came closer the young man suddenly leaped to his feet, uttering a cry of alarm. Then he gave another cry, and dropping the pan with its contents to the ground, he rushed forward with wide-stretched arms yelling at the top of his voice.

"Jack! Jack! It is really my own Jack! Oh, how glad I am to see yeou!"



Chapter XXVIII

Back from the Dead



Jack literally fell from his horse. Was he dreaming or was this a ghost that confronted him? He gazed at the other fellow with eyes that almost popped from his head.

"Ain't yeou glad to see me?" came from the fellow in rags, and his voice took on a hurt tone. "Plum! Is it—is it really you?" faltered Jack.

"Sure ez yeou air born it's me," was the answer from Plum Plucky.

"But I thought you were dead—I was sure you were dead. Why, I—I buried your bones!"

"Not by a jugful yeou didn't bury my bones, Jack. I've got 'em all with me, although I allow they ain't much meat on 'em jest now," went on Plum, dolefully.

"But this—this staggers me! I was certain you were dead, and when I found a heap of bones which the vultures had picked clean I buried them for yours. This is the most wonderful thing I ever heard of. I can't understand it. Where have you been, and why didn't you let me hear from you?"

"I have been a prisoner of war," answered Plum. "Got caught in the mountains one day. Fust they was up fer shootin' me, but then they changed their minds and carted me off to some little town in the mountains. They fired me into a dungeon an' I took sick, an' would have died only a native gal up an' nussed me back to health. Then I give the gal some silver I had hidden away an' she showed me how to git away, an' I got. Then I got lost in the mountains, an' would have starved to death only I run down some sort o' a wild beast that had two legs broken in a fall over the rocks. I killed the beast—I reckon it was a puma—with some rocks, an' lived on the meat fer nigh on to a week. Then, after all kinds o' adventures in the mountains, I reached here, an' here I am, an' so happy to see yeou I don't know what to do."

As he finished tears stood in the honest eyes of the Yankee lad, and Jack was no less affected. They embraced, the native looking on in wonder, until the matter was explained to him.

"I know this road like a book, so ye won't need thet native no longer," said Plum. "But I'd like to have his nag. I'm dead tired o' hoofin' it."

"You shall have the pony—if he will sell," said Jack.

"Got any money to pay with? I ain't got a red cent."

Jack had some funds with him, and soon a bargain was closed with the native. Then the fellow went off, leaving the former chums to themselves.

The supper Plum had been cooking was spoilt, but another was presently prepared and both sat down to do justice to the repast. As they ate each told his story in detail, and Jack related his reason for coming back to that portion of the country.

"I'm glad to learn yeou made money on them nitrates," said Plum. "An' I am glad, too, thet you found yer gal true blue an' waitin' for ye, Jack. But about this treasure hunt,—well, I don't put much stock in it."

"I want to solve the mystery of that boiling lake, Plum. Even if I don't get the treasure it will be something to learn what makes that water shoot up as it does."

"Oh, I suppose so, but don't yeou take too many risks finding eout," returned the Yankee lad.

Plum said he had expected to remain at the deserted house all night and then push on for the seacoast. But now he had met Jack, and had a pony at his service, he was willing to go anywhere.

"I ain't got no home nor nuthin'," he remarked. "One place is ez good ez another to me,—only I like to be among friends."

"Stay with me, Plum, and welcome," said Jack, cordially. "I can use you in my business, if you want to come in."

"I am with yeou every time," said Plum, and shook hands on it. As said before, he was without funds and more than glad that our hero was willing to assist him.

The night was spent at the dilapidated house without anything unusual happening, and early in the morning they got breakfast,—eating some birds Jack brought down with his pistol—and then went on their journey.

Noon found them on the main road, and an hour later they came across two of the members of Jack's party.

"Well, I am glad to see you are alive," said one of the men. "We had about given you up for lost."

"I came pretty near being lost forever," answered Jack, and once again had to tell his story. Then one of the men was despatched to bring up the rest of the party; and by nightfall all hands were together again.

"I shall certainly be more careful in the future," declared Jack. "Such absent-mindedness does not pay."

Fortunately some extra clothing had been brought along, and a suit was given to Plum, for which he was exceedingly thankful. That night Jack slept finely, and in the morning declared himself in the best of health.

Once again the party moved forward to the rocky bowl in the mountains holding the Devil's Waters. By noon the summit of the ascent was gained and the party came to a halt. Then Jack went ahead accompanied only by Plum.

As soon as Jack reached a spot where he could look into the vast bowl he saw that something unusual had occurred. He was mystified and appalled and sat on his pony spellbound.

The roar and thunder of the mysterious boiling lake was gone. Not a sound broke the stillness of the mountainous scene. He looked down on a grass-covered valley, somewhat round, in size and having in its center a mound or "island," upon which grew a lonely pimento tree. A branch of the tree, devoid of foliage, pointed like a great finger, to a cut in the great mountain bowl.

There was no mistaking such a landmark, and as Jack viewed it he gave a long low whistle.

"Well?" demanded Plum, questioningly.

"I am—am staggered, Plum."

"Why?"

"This doesn't look like a lake, does it?"

"Sure not, Jack."

"Well, the last time I was here it was a boiling, writhing lake, and that mound you see yonder was an island in the middle."

"Gosh all hemlock, Jack! Yeou don't mean it!"

"I assuredly do."

"There ain't a drop o' water around here neow!"

"I know it and that is what puzzles me."

"Ain't mistaken in the spot?"

"Not at all. Do you see that solitary pimento tree? Well, that was there, exactly as it is now."

"Yeou said it would be, I remember that," said Plum, scratching his head. "But this ain't no lake."

"It has been. See, the grass shows signs of having been covered with water mixed with mud."

"That is so too, an' neow I look at it, Jack, ther's big holes in the ground here an' there, where the water must have run off."

For several minutes Jack and his friend surveyed the scene. Then our hero urged his pony down the somewhat steep side of the gigantic mountain bowl.

"Whar be yeou a going now?" asked Plum.

"To the mound in the middle of the valley, to see if I can find the treasure," shouted back Jack.

"All right, I'm with yeou," answered the Yankee lad, and followed down the slope.



Chapter XXIX

The Treasure of the Boiling Lake



It must be owned that Jack's heart beat rather rapidly as he rode down into the little valley, hemmed in on all sides by the high walls of the Andes mountains.

He remembered well what the paper had said concerning the treasure, yet he did his best to steel himself against possible disappointment.

Plum Deemed to read his thoughts, for as he rode up he said:

"Jack, thet treasure might have been here years ago, but don't be disapp'inted if it's gone now. Them waters may have washed it away."

"I am willing to take what comes, Plum," was the answer. "But I want to know the exact truth—I hate to be kept in suspense."

"Well, we'll know afore long, I calkerlate," returned the Yankee lad.

They had to pick their way with care to the "island," as Jack insisted upon calling it. The bed of the valley was filled with holes and cuts, all of unknown depth. Here and there the flat rocks were split in twain in the most extraordinary fashion.

"There has been some great convulsion of nature here," said Jack. "Maybe the earthquakes have something to do with the disappearance of the water."

"If the water was here—an' I believe what you say—it must have gone down in 'em holes and cuts," said Plum. "But what made it spout up ag'in?"

"Some contraction of the hollows under the lake's surface," answered Jack. "Maybe a cave would get filled with water, then some rocks would fill the cave up, causing the water to spout out into the valley."

"It must be thet—but it is certainly wonderful, Jack."

At last the pair reached the side of the mound or "island," Here they could gain a good idea of the big pimento tree with its stricken branch pointing to the distant hills. Around the pimento the rocks were strewn in all directions.

"If there was a cave here it is filled up," said Jack.

"Pity we didn't bring a spade along," answered his companion.

Dismounting, they tied their ponies to the pimento and then began to look around the mound, which was several acres in extent. Rocks were cast up in all directions, as if by the force of a volcano.

A half hour had passed, and they had found nothing of value, when of a sudden Plum snatched up something and gave a yell:

"Gold! gold!"

"True enough," answered Jack, when he had examined the piece. It was the size of his little finger and similarly formed.

"The treasure must be here!" went on the Yankee lad. "Come, let us look for it."

"That is what we are doing already," answered Jack, with something of a happy laugh. He, too, had spotted something yellow between the rocks, and now brought it forth, another piece of gold, twice the size of Plum's find.

"Good for yeou!" shouted the Yankee boy. "The rocks must be full o' gold!"

In feverish haste the search was continued, and soon Jack had at least a pound of gold to his credit, while Plum had nearly as much. Then, of a sudden, Jack stepped on some loose dirt and shot out of sight.

"Hi! what yeou doing?" yelled Plum, in alarm, as he retreated from the hole that had appeared.

"Help me out!" called up Jack. He had gone down about a dozen feet, to bring up in a bed of sand and small stones.

"Hurt any?" queried Plum anxiously.

"Not a bit, Plum."

"Any gold down there?"

"I'll see," said Jack.

He hunted around the opening and soon discovered a passageway between two immense rocks. He lit a match and one look around made his eyes open wildly.

Gold was there, on all sides of the passageway—enough to make him rich for life!

"Plum, look here!" he yelled. "Gold—all you want of it!"

"Du tell!" roared the Yankee boy, and without stopping to think twice he dropped down to the bottom of the hole.

Another match was lit, and then some dry brushwood, and by the flickering light the two youths filled their pockets with the precious metal.

"We can load our ponies with gold," said Jack. He was so delighted he could scarcely speak.

"That's it—we'll carry away all we can an' then come back fer more," answered the Yankee lad.

How to get to the top of the hole once more was a problem, but at last Jack climbed on Plum's shoulders. He was then able to grasp a tree root, and by this means hauled himself upward.

"I'll tell you what to do, Plum!" he called down. "You throw up the gold to me and I'll load it on the ponies."

"All right, Jack. But don't forgit to pay me fer the job," laughed Plum.

"Pay you? Why, Plum, a good share of this gold is yours!"

"Yes, but yeou knew about the treasure, I didn't."

"I don't care. You can have a third anyway—and I'll pay all expenses of this trip."

"Thanks, Jack, yeou allers was a good feller."

After that both boys worked away like Trojans for the best part of an hour. The gold was there and Plum flung up one piece after another, until the saddle bags on both ponies were overflowing.

"We've got a load!" cried Jack at last. "Any more down there?"

"Plenty," was the answer.

"Well, let us take this to yonder hills and hide it. Then we can come back for more."

"Why to the hills, Jack?"

"Because something tells me not to trust this spot too long, Plum. Remember the boiling lake."

He assisted the Yankee lad to the top of the opening and then, mounted on their ponies, they made their way over the dry bottom of the lake to the rocky ridge beyond. Here they deposited the gold in a safe place, and then returned to the "island."

"I'll go down this time," said Jack, and did so. A torch had been brought along, and sticking it in a crack of the rocks, the youth went to work with a will.

In less than half an hour the ponies were again loaded with gold. Jack had picked up almost the last piece in sight when he came to a sudden pause in his work.

What was that strange sound, and was it possible the earth beneath him was trembling? He leaped back to the center of the hole. Yes, the earth was surely quaking, and now some loose dirt came down on top of him.

"It is the earthquake!" he murmured, and at that moment came a loud cry from Plum.

"Jack! Jack! come up, as quick as yeou can! The water is squirting up through 'em holes, an' the lake is filling up!"



Chapter XXX

A Ride for Life—Conclusion



The earthquake was indeed upon them, and as Plum threw down a rope to Jack the whole landscape seemed to rock to and fro, causing the Yankee lad to miss his footing and pitch headlong on our hero's head.

"Oh, Jack, did I hurt you?" spluttered Plum, as he stood upright at the bottom of the hole.

Jack did not answer, for at that instant the earth shook again, sending them both on their backs. Then all became, for the instant, quiet.

"We must get away from this spot!" gasped Jack. "If we don't, we'll be buried alive!"

The rope had fallen at his feet. He picked it up. There was a noose at one end and this he whirled upward.

Twice he missed the object for which he aimed, but the third time the rope caught fast to a projecting rock.

"Now, Plum, up you go!" he said, and gave his companion a lift. Fear lent the Yankee lad strength and he went up hand over hand in rapid fashion. Jack followed, and in a moment more both stood on the surface of the island.

The sight that met their gaze was enough to make them shudder. On all sides the darkish-green water was spouting from the holes and cuts in the lake bed. Some of the columns arose to a height of a hundred feet, the water falling back into the basin with a tremendous report, and causing the drops to fly in all directions. At one point in the lake the water was already a foot or more deep.

"To the shore!" yelled Jack, and flew for a pony, while Plum did likewise. The animals were crazy with fear and could scarcely be controlled.

As they left the island there came another movement of the earthquake, followed by a crash behind them. They looked back, to see the lonely pimento tree fall into the very hole they had just left!

"Gosh! what a narrer escape!" gasped Plum.

"We are not out of it yet, Plum," answered Jack. "Come, we must ride for all we are worth. Perhaps we had better throw away the gold."

"No! no! Don't do it!" screamed the Yankee lad. "We can make the shore if we hurry."

Down they plunged side by side from the island and into the water that was now flowing in all directions around the mound. They made a bee line for the rocky ridge beyond.

"Look out for holes!" cried Jack, but even as he spoke his pony plunged downward, nearly causing our hero to take a header. But he clung fast, and, struggling up, the pony went forward as before.

It was a ride that can scarcely be described. Soon the water was up to the bodies of the ponies and then they were carried off their feet. They swam a short distance, and then, coming to a shallow spot, galloped on as before.

It was a wild ride, and dripping from foam and water the ponies kept on until once again they had to swim.

Then came a roar from the bottom of the lake, and steeds and riders were hurled high in the air, to fall again with a noise in the spume of the boiling lake.

"We—we air lost!" panted Plum. "Th—the wind is gone out o' me!"

"Keep on, we have only a short distance further to go!" cried Jack.

The earth was shaking again and the water appeared to swing away from them toward the island.

Then it came on with a rush, carrying ponies and riders far up the rocky ridge. Then the water went back as before, boiling and foaming furiously, while a mist blotted out the immediate landscape.

"Come, don't stop here!" yelled Jack, urging his pony forward. "To higher ground, before it is too late!"

Again they went on, but not for far. Another earthquake threw them flat and Plum rolled down under his pony. Then the quaking ceased; and that was the last of the earthquake. Arising, Jack helped his companion and found that the Yankee youth was uninjured. Both looked down the rocks toward the lake. The water was boiling and foaming as before, but gradually the surface of the lake grew calm. Then Jack gave another exclamation:

"The island! It is sinking from sight!"

It was true, the island was going down slowly but surely. In a few minutes it was but a mere speck on the surface, and then even this disappeared.

"Gone!" gasped Plum. "But we got the gold—or a good part o' it!"

"Thank heaven that our lives were spared!" murmured Jack. "I never want to go through another such experience—not for all the gold in the world!"

* * * * *

A few words more and we will bring our tale to a close.

When they had rested, Jack and Plum rejoined the others of the party. The story of the hunt for gold was told, much to the amazement of the rest, and, later, the gold was taken down to the seacoast and placed with some reliable bankers. The boiling lake was inspected and found to be deeper than ever. Strange to say, the lake remained where it was for about two months, when it gradually disappeared, and that was the last seen of it. The ground around where the pimento island had been was greatly upheaved, and a long search in that vicinity failed to bring any more gold to light.

The treasure that had been found proved to be worth nearly thirty thousand dollars, one-third of which went to Plum and the rest to Jack. Out of his share our hero paid all the expenses of the trip and also rewarded handsomely all those who had accompanied him into the mountains.

With a portion of his money Jack continued to develop his nitrate fields and shipped vast quantities of the stuff to this country and elsewhere. He soon became immensely wealthy, and then settled down with his wife, Jenny, in Boston, where we will bid him farewell.



The End.