I dared not try to heave—it would have been madness, cumbered and crowded together as we were; and in those brief moments of agony it seemed to me that I was Tom's murderer, for, but on account of my wild thirst for coming abroad, he might have been safe at home.

"Try—try again, Mas'r Harry, please," whispered the poor fellow imploringly; "I shouldn't like to die out here in these savage parts, nor yet this how. Make one more try to get rid of that beast."

As if to show that he was not all bad, just at the moment when it seemed that all chance of saving poor Tom was gone, when our arms felt to be dragging out of their sockets, and a something drawing me by a strange fascination, joined to the weight, over the side of the precipice—the mule gave a wild squeal, shook its head for an instant, seized the tight rein in its teeth, and bit it through.

The next moment it gave a whinny of relief, planted its feet on my back as I half lay down, leaped over me, and was out of our way; while how we managed the next part I cannot say. All I know is that there was a horrible struggle, a scrambling rush, the panting groans of those who fought with grim death, and then I lay half-fainting upon the shelf, with honest old Tom at my side.

"Thank Heaven!" I muttered.

"Amen, Mas'r Harry!" said Tom in a whisper; and then for some time no one spoke.

Half an hour after, very quiet and sober of mien, we were leading our mules down the shelf, unnerved and trembling, till once more the plain was reached, and with it rest for the night.



CHAPTER TEN.

PLAYING AT HEROES.

And so we journeyed on day after day, through heat and dust, and arid, stony lands; with my heart sinking lower and lower and the thought of home not being so very bad a place after all continually forcing itself upon me, till our guide suddenly announced our proximity to the place I had come these thousands of miles to seek. And now it was that from where it had sunk my heart gave a great leap of exultation, and I sat for long enough upon my bony mule drinking in the scene before me.

For the last three days our ride had been over stone and sand, with here and there a melancholy palm shooting up from the drab-hued desert, the sun beating down and being reflected up in a way that was almost unbearable; even Tom riding with his mouth open, panting like a dog, his face coated with perspiration and dust; while when at night we had stopped at some wretched makeshift of an inn—a hut generally where a grass hammock and a little lukewarm water was the total accommodation—a wash or bath of any kind had been quite out of the question. But now, as we were descending a steep mountain-side, it seemed as if we had suddenly dropped into one of the most lovely spots on earth, riding at once right in beneath the shade of a huge forest, with a sea of green leaves spreading out before us in every direction.

By comparison the coolness was delightful, and we rode through a vast arcade over a golden net-work spread by the sun upon the grassy undergrowth; whilst from afar off came that sweetest of sounds to a parched and thirsty traveller, the murmuring of falling water, now soft and gentle, now increasing to a roar.

"Great river, senors," said our guide, pointing forward. "Senor Don Reuben Landell on other side."

"Say, Mas'r Harry," said Tom just then, "they ain't sure where the Garden of Eden was, are they? I'm blest if I don't think we've found the very spot, and if—There she goes!"

I can't say whether Tom's mind was running just then upon Eve, but as a light figure seemed to flit into our sight and stand gazing at us with bright and wondering eyes, mine did; and for a few minutes after she had disappeared amongst the trees I sat in my saddle without speaking.

But the glorious verdure around soon made me forget the fair vision; and now, riding on a few paces, now halting at an opening in the forest, I sat drinking in the scene with the feelings of one in a dream.

Then we rode on a hundred yards up an ascent, with the sun full upon us once more, to descend a precipitous path, holding on tightly by the mule, which one expected to slip and hurl one down a gulf at the side; but the descent was safely made, and then we stood gazing at a belt of cultivated ground—the forest and river lying off to our right.

"There is the river path, senors," said our guide, "straight down. The ground is soft and bad for the mules, and I go back. You will find a gentleman to take you over the great river; but I would look about me; there are little snakes, the great water-boa, and the crocodiles of the river."

Then saluting us with his half-bred Spanish politeness, our guide stood while we possessed ourselves of our light luggage, and then led off his mules, leaving us to follow the pointed-out direction, which took us down to the swampy bank of a great muddy river flowing gently by us, cutting its way, as it were, through a forest of mighty trees, whose tall stems shot up from the water's edge. There was a small canoe tethered to a sapling where the path ceased, but no sign of its owner; while half a mile in front, across the river, was an opening in the trees similar to that in which we stood, which was, doubtless, the path we were to pursue.

We stood in deep shadow; but the sun was flashing from the breast of the river as it rolled slowly on, its even surface unbroken save here and there by some water-bird; while in several places what seemed to be rough tree-trunks were floating slowly down with the stream. The great trees were wreathed and festooned to the water's edge with parasites and vines; and now and then the shrill cry of some parrot rang out, the bird flashing into sight for an instant, and then disappearing amidst the glorious verdure.

"Well, Tom," I said, "this is different from the old country."

But he did not reply; and turning, I found him gazing fixedly amongst the swamp herbage, through which was a wet, muddy track, when, following the direction of his gaze and peering into the shade, I became aware of a pair of the most hideous, hateful eyes fixed upon me that I had ever seen. I was heated with walking over the wet ground, and there was a warm, steamy exhalation rising around; but in a moment my tongue became dry and a cold perspiration bedewed my limbs, as, fascinated almost, I stood gazing within six feet of the monster, which now began slowly a retrograde motion till the herbage hid it from our sight. Then there was a loud rustling rush, a splash in the water, and wave after wave proclaimed the size of the beast that had, fortunately for us, declined to attack.

"Whurra!" exclaimed Tom with a shudder. "Say, Mas'r Harry, do newts grow as big as that out here?"

"It was a crocodile, Tom," I said with a shiver. "And look—look! Why, the river swarms with them!"

"So it does, seemin'ly," exclaimed Tom as I pointed out the slimy backs of half-a-score of them floating down the stream; for I could see now that they were no trees, while here and there on the muddy bank we could make out a solitary monster basking, open-mouthed, in the sun.

"Come along," I said, "let's get over."

"But will they touch the boat, Mas'r Harry? I ain't afraid, you know, only they are queersome beasts as ever I did see."

"I don't think there's any fear of that," I said; "but at any rate we must get over."

Stepping close to the water's edge I drew the light canoe up by its bark rope, disturbing either a small reptile or some great fish as I did so, for there was a rushing swirl in the water and the frail vessel rocked to and fro.

In spite of Tom's declarations to the effect that such a pea-shuck would sink with us, I stepped in and he followed; when, taking the paddles, we pushed off and began to make our way out into the stream, Tom's eyes glancing around as he dipped in his paddle cautiously, expecting every moment that it would touch a crocodile; but using our paddles—clumsily enough, as may be supposed—we made some way, and then paused to consider whether we should go forward or backward, for we had at one and the same time arrived at the knowledge that the strong stream was our master, and that until we had attained to some skill in the use of the paddles any progress upstream towards the landing-place was out of the question.

"We must get across lower down, Tom," I said, "and then walk back."

"What! through the wood, Mas'r Harry?"

"Yes, through the wood."

"Lor'! No, don't do that, Mas'r Harry. We shall be eat up alive! Them there woods swarms with snakes—I know they do. And just look there!" he cried, splashing fiercely with his paddle to frighten a huge reptile, but without effect; for the great beast came slowly floating down in all its native hideousness, its rugged bark-like back and the rough prominences above its eyes out of the muddy water, one eye peering at us with the baleful look peculiar to this fearful beast.

The next minute it had passed us, and we were once more paddling slowly on, the river having swept us quite out of sight of the landing-place. But the sights around were so novel that I rather enjoyed our passage. In spite of Tom's anxiety, every now and then I ceased paddling to gaze at some bright-plumaged bird flitting from tree to tree overhanging the stream. Once I made sure that the great bare vine which swung between two boughs must be a serpent, till, passing by, we made out its real character.

At last, though, I awoke to the fact that it was time to be up and doing, for the current had swept us round a great bend of the river, and below us I saw that for a wide stretch of quite a couple of miles the river was broken up by rapids. Great masses of rock thrust their bare heads out of the water like river monsters, and round them the muddy tide bubbled, and foamed, and eddied.

It was plain enough that we were approaching a dangerous part, and had not our sense warned us of the peril we had ample warning in the increased swiftness and troubled state of the stream. I saw at a glance that a boat would have but a poor chance of existing amongst the rocky way if it should be swept there, and I had taken a firm grip of my paddle when—

"Look, Tom!" I cried.

And for a moment our attention was taken up by one of those glorious golden-green and scarlet birds—the trogons—flitting close by us, its emerald crest and gorgeous yard-long tail-feathers flashing in the sun, while its brilliant scarlet breast was for a moment reflected in the water.

"Oh, you beauty!" cried Tom. "If I only had my old gun! But, I say, Mas'r Harry, paddle away!"

Already somewhat more used to the propellers, we began to force the boat towards the opposite bank, hoping to get into an eddy that should help us along; but we had dallied with our task, and the stream now ran more swiftly than ever. Still we made some progress, and were contriving to dip together, when I almost let my paddle pass from my hands, for a strange, wild cry rang along the surface of the water.

"What's that?" I exclaimed.

"I should say it was one of them pleasant brutes out for a holiday—one of them tiger or leopard things, like what we used to see in Wombwell's show, like great tomcats. I'll lay a wager this is the spot where they live when they're at home and go yowling about."

"There it is again!" I exclaimed excitedly. "Why, it was a cry for help. There is some one in the river!"

"Then he'd better hold his tongue," said Tom, "and not get shouting, or he'll have all these great beasts come rushing at him, same as they did in the ponds at home when we used to throw in a worm upon a bent pin and fish for the little newts. There, Mas'r Harry, look at that chap!"

As he spoke Tom pointed with his paddle at a great uncouth monster, some twelve feet long and tremendously thick, which had raised its head from the slime in which it wallowed upon the edge of the river, and was slowly turning itself, first in one and then in another direction, before splashing a little and then shooting itself off into deep water with one stroke of its powerful tail.

"Ugh, the brutes!" ejaculated Tom. "They'd make short work of a fellow if he was thrown in for live bait. But, I say, that is some one shouting, Mas'r Harry."

"Paddle down closer towards the rapids, Tom," I said excitedly.

Then, for a moment we forgot our own danger as with a sharp stroke or two we sent the canoe out in full stream, so that it swept down swiftly.

"You're right, Mas'r Harry—you're right!" said Tom, eager now as I was myself. "Look—look, there's a canoe upset!"

"Paddle away!" I cried as another shout came ringing towards us, just as I obtained a good view of what was taking place below.

"But we shall be over too, Mas'r Harry, if you row like that. Lord help them, though, if there ain't a woman in the water!" Tom cried, working his paddle furiously—an example I had set him.

Swaying about, the little vessel raced almost through the troubled waters, which each moment grew more rough, leaping and dancing, and threatening at times to splash right into our frail boat.

Our excitement was pardonable, for right in front of us, and about two hundred yards down the river, there was a sight which made my nerves tingle, and the paddle in my hands to feel like a straw. A canoe of about double the size of our own had been overset in the rapids, and, with four figures clinging to it, was rapidly floating down stream amidst the boiling waters, which leaped and seethed round them. Now we could see that two of the figures were making efforts to turn the canoe; but it was evident that in the rough water, and with the others clinging to it, this was impossible; and, evidently half-strangled and bewildered in the fierce rush, they had given up the next minute, and were clinging to the vessel's sides.

Now it was hurried down a rapid with a tremendous rush, to be tossing the next moment in the deep below, whirling round and round, now half under, now by its buoyancy rising again with its clinging freight, to be swept into an eddy where the water was comparatively calm, but only to be slowly driven back again into the swift current hastening down the rocky slope; and a groan of dismay burst from my breast as I saw the boat dashed against a great black jagged mass of rock right in its way. But the next instant the party had glided round it, and were again being swept downwards where the river was one mass of creamy foam.

How we went down I cannot tell you, for it was due to no skill on our part; the wonder is that we were not overset a score of times; but somehow, almost miraculously, we seemed to avoid rock after rock that was scattered in our way, the little canoe bounding along in a mad race as we plied our paddles with all the energy at our command. I have often thought since that our rough action and chance-work way of running the gauntlet amidst the rocks was the reason of our success, where skilled managers of a canoe would have come to grief; but, be that as it may, in a wild exciting race we dashed on and on down the gradual watery slope, the noise of many waters thundering in our ears, while, with what I believe is the true generous spirit of an Englishman pervading us, we forgot our own danger in the sight of that incurred by the party in the rapids.

"Go it, Mas'r Harry!" Tom roared, mad almost with excitement, as he scooped away with his paddle. "Hurraw! Who's afraid? That's a good un! Now again! Brayvo! lay into it, my hearty!"

We gained upon the upset boat swiftly, when, as the clinging party were swept into a tolerably smooth reach that intervened between a fierce race of water and the next dangerous spot, I saw one of the men leave the canoe and strike boldly out for the shore, followed directly after by two more, whose dusky skin proclaimed them of Indian blood.

"Why, only look there—three men and one woman!" cried Tom. "And if they haven't gone away and left her! This ain't old England, Mas'r Harry; we don't do things that how at home. Paddle away! Mind, sir, or you'll have us over! Only wish I had a couple of tallow staves instead of this wooden spoon. Paddle away, sir! Cowardly warmint! That's it, sir; this boat's as light as a cork, but don't have us over. We shall soon reach her now—mind, steady, for I'm scared to death of the water, and I wouldn't swim as they do, not for a thousand pounds—not but what I could if I liked. That's it, sir, only another thirty yards—long strokes and steady ones, and—hold on, my dear, we're coming."

"Push on, Tom—push on, and save your breath," I cried, "for Heaven's sake! Ah!—"

I could not restrain that cry—it burst from my lips, for just at that moment I saw the female figure, yet clinging to the overturned canoe, glide from her hold, as if drawn away by some invisible agency down, down, gradually beneath the swift tide.

"It's one of them great wild beasts got her!" cried Tom, giving vent to the thought that had flashed across my brain. "Oh! don't—pray, pray don't, Mas'r Harry!" I heard him shriek. "I'm scared to death of these waters, and if you go I must too, for I swore I'd stick to you like a— Oh, Mas'r Harry!"

With Tom's voice ringing in my ears, but having no more effect than they would have had in staying the swift rush of the rapids, I had in one and the same moment recognised the drowning face, and, paddle in hand, leaped from the frail canoe into the foaming river.

That was a wild and thrilling moment, when, nerving myself to the encounter, I battled with the fierce water, trying to put into practice every feint and feat that I had learned in old bathing times at home, when sporting in the summer evenings in our little river. Speed, though, and skill in swimming seemed unavailing here, as I felt the waters wreathe round me, strangling me, as it were, in a cold embrace; then seizing me to drag me here, to drag me there; dashing me against this rock, against that, and directly after sending a cold chill of horror through every nerve, as a recollection of the hideous reptiles abounding in the river flashed upon me, when I felt myself sucked down lower and lower in the vortex of some eddy between the rocks. It was like dreaming of swimming in some horrible nightmare, my every effort being checked when I strove to reach the drowning girl; and again and again, when just on the point of clutching her light garments, I was swept away, to begin once more fighting towards her with the energy of despair.

At last, however, my arm was round her, and two little hands closed upon my shoulders, clinging to me with a despairing grip, as I fought hard to keep on the surface; but only to be swept here and there, helpless as a fragment of wood, the muddy water the while thundering in my ears and bubbling angrily at my lips.

Now up, now down—over, and over, and over, rolling along a shallow smooth platform of rock, and then into deeper water again. I began to feel that I was fighting my last fight, and that the enemy was too strong.

But still I fought on—more feebly, 'tis true, but still with the stubborn determination of an unworthy representative of that nation which was said by a great general not to know when they were beaten.

Then came a respite, as I was swept into still water; but I was too weak now to take advantage of it before I was borne into the next rapid, foaming to receive me with my burden.

The river was here like a series of long rugged steps, with here fierce tumbling waters, there a smooth interval, but only to be succeeded again and again by broken water, into another foaming chaos of which I was swept.

It was now one wild confusion of struggling wave and roaring, foaming surf; then came a dim sense that I was half stunned by a fierce blow— that I was growing weaker—that I was drowning fast; and for an instant a pang shot through me as I seemed to see vividly a portion of my past life, and thought of how hard it was to die so young.

I was again swept into the still water, and my arm struck out involuntarily as, my lips well above water, I drew in a long breath—a long invigorating draught of the breath of life; but my efforts were feeble, and my mind was misty and confused, but only for a few moments. In a flash, as it were of light, the horror of my position came upon me, and I gave utterance to a cry of terror, for suddenly there was a fierce rushing swirl in the water. I felt something strike me obliquely; then the light figure I had striven so hard to save was almost jerked from my arm, and the next instant we were being borne swiftly along through the water upstream and towards the shore.

Jerk, jerk, jerk! and I gazed with horror upon the pale face close to mine, fortunately insensible; my eyes seemed ready to start from their sockets with horror; there was a sensation as of a ghostly hand stirring my wet hair; and then once more I gave utterance to a strange hoarse cry that startled even me; for as—in spite of my weakness—my mental energies grew momentarily clearer I thoroughly realised the horror of our position, and that we were being dragged rapidly away by one of the ravenous reptiles of the river.



CHAPTER ELEVEN.

IN THE WOODS.

Death, we are told, has been met by the brave-hearted again and again unflinchingly; but such a death as was now threatening me and the poor girl I was trying to save must have made the stoutest blench. For my part, a chill of horror seemed to pass through every limb, thoroughly unnerving me, so that my efforts were but feeble as I felt myself sweeping through the water towards the bank, where the stream ran swiftly, but free of rocks, while its eddies and whirlpools showed that there were holes and places worn in beneath the banks, to one of which it seemed evident the monster was making.

I made one desperate struggle, as, nearing the bank, the water shallowed; but the slight figure was still dragged swiftly onward, while twice over I felt the rough slimy body of the monster in contact with my legs. All defence or attack—all prospect of escape, seemed out of the question, and by the action of the water I was turned over helplessly upon my back, the muddy stream flowing over my face half-strangling me. I had during the last few moments been fast approaching to a dreamy state, which dulled the acute horror of my position, and I believe that a few more moments would have produced insensibility, when I was galvanised, as it were, back into vigorous action by a sound as something grazed my shoulder.

"Now, then, hold fast by the side—hold fast!" was shrieked in my ears as a hand grasped mine, guiding it to the edge of the canoe, to which I clung with renewed energy as we were racing through the shallows at a tremendous rate. Then came a shouting, and the vigorous beating of the water with a paddle, a tremendous rushing swirl, which nearly overset the canoe, and our locomotion was at an end, the vessel floating lightly in a deep pool beneath the trees. A few strokes of the paddle and the prow struck the muddy bank; and before I could recover from the prostration I felt myself dragged on to the grass, and my arm roughly torn from the waist it so tightly encircled; but not before I had seen that the clinging garments were torn—rent down one side, evidently where the huge beast had seized its prey; and then there was the muttering of voices, the rustling of the undergrowth as a passage was forced through it, and we were alone.

"I'd have said thanky for a good deal less than that, if it had been me," said Tom gruffly, as he stood gazing after the retreating party. "They're a nice lot, Mas'r Harry—swam off like a set of copper-skinned varmints, and left the gal to drownd; and when some one else has the pluck to save her, they look savage and disappointed, and snatch her away just as if they were recovering stolen goods. My eye, though, Mas'r Harry, it was a narrer escape—worse than swinging under that old donkey's nose!"

My only reply was a shudder.

"I didn't think it so precious bad, Mas'r Harry, when we was up at that landing-place in the ship; but I do think now as we're getting it rather warm: only ashore here a few days, and we've had our lodging shook about our ears; I've been pitched over a precipice like the side of a house; and you've been a'most swallowed and drowned by a great newt. I'll give in. It is a trifle hotter than it was at home. But say, Mas'r Harry, it ain't going to be all in this style, is it? Why it's like being heroes in a book—Robinson Crusoe and Man Friday, and all on in that tune, and us not knowing how much hotter we're going to have it!"

"Matter of chance, Tom," I said, wringing the water from my clothes as I stood in the hot sun. "We may be here for years and have no more adventures. Perhaps, after so rough a welcome, matters may turn out gloriously."

Tom began to whistle and pick leaves to chew and spit out again, till I pronounced my readiness to proceed.

"Paddles are both in the boat," said Tom, then, as he secured the canoe by its bark rope to a tree, "we've got over the river, Mas'r Harry, that's one thing; but how far we are down below the landing-place I dunno, I'm sure."

We proved to be much farther below than I thought for, enough time elapsing for my clothes to get nearly dry in the patches of hot sun we passed as we wound our way through the forest, the rushing noise of the river on our right guiding us in our efforts to keep within range of the bank, which we avoided on account of the huge beasts we had seen basking there.

"This is a rum sort of country and no mistake, Mas'r Harry," said Tom at last, as he stood mopping the perspiration from his face; "but, somehow or other, one feels just the same here as one did in the old place, and I'm as hungry now as if I hadn't had a morsel to eat for a week. Is it much farther, Mas'r Harry?"

"I don't know how many miles we've come," I replied.

But his words had fully accounted for a strange sensation of faintness that troubled me. A little more perseverance, though, brought us to the track—one that we might have reached in a quarter of the time had we known the way.

A short walk showed us that we were correct, for we went along the track to the river, so as to make sure of this being the one we sought—for being lost in these wilds was something not to be thought of for a minute. There, though, on the other side of the stream, was the landing-place from which we had started, only to reach our present position after a roundabout eventful journey.

"All right, Mas'r Harry—come along," said Tom, turning.

And now, pursuing the track, we found that we were gradually mounting a slope, till the trees were left behind and we stood upon an eminence looking down upon my uncle's house.

All that we had seen beautiful before seemed to fail before the picture upon which we now gazed, where all that was lavish in nature had been aided by the hand of man, cultivation subduing and enriching, till the region below us blushed in beauty; for we were looking down upon a lightly-built, pleasantly-shaded house, with its green jalousie-covered windows, and great creeper-burdened verandah, gaily-painted, and running right round the house.

The place stood in the midst of a grove of verdure of the most glorious golden-green, rich with the great crimson, coral-like blossoms of what is there called madre del cacao—the cocoa's mother—tall, regularly planted trees, cultivated for the protection and shade they give to the plants beneath, great bananas loaded with fruit, bright green coffee bushes, and the cocoa with its pods, green, yellow, blood-red, and purple. The roughly erected fences were, so to speak, smothered with glorious trumpet-blossomed convolvuli, whose bright hues were peering ever from a bed of heart and spear shaped richly green leaves.



CHAPTER TWELVE.

THE HACIENDA.

Clear and bright was the sky, and wherever the rays of the sun penetrated it was for them to fall in a shower of golden arrows, and form tracery upon the green carpet beneath the trees, amid whose branches, screaming, chattering, climbing, and hanging head downwards, or fluttering from bough to bough, were hundreds of rainbow-hued parrots, beautiful as Nature's dyes could paint.

It was a scene of exceeding beauty, and was not lost even upon blunt, hungry Tom.

"Well," he exclaimed, "if this don't pay for coming out, may I never again wire out a bar of best mottled. It's a rum sort of country though; one time frightening you to death, and the next minute coaxing you into staying. S'pose, Mas'r Harry, that there's a sort of foreign market-garden?"

"If I'm not mistaken, Tom, that's my uncle's plantation."

"With all my heart, Mas'r Harry; but choked as I am with thirst I should like one of them pumpkins or some of the other outlandish fruits. Let's have a pen'orth, sir. My! what a sight though! I hope this is the spot. But there, only look, Mas'r Harry, did you ever see such sparrows? Look at the colour of 'em! If I don't take home a cageful, and one of them red and yaller poll-parrots, I don't stand here now. But are you sure your uncle Reuben lives here, Mas'r Harry?"

"I think this must be the spot, Tom," I said, "according to the guide's description."

"Why, he must be quite a lord, sir. He's never touched taller or soap in his life, I'll bet. But, say, Mas'r Harry, we look rough uns to go and see him, don't us?"

I laughed and then led the way, Tom following close behind, till we entered a sort of court-yard surrounded by sheds, with men and women busily at work at what I afterwards learned was the preparation of the cocoa.

"And you're Harry Grant then, are you?" said a tall, brown-skinned man, who was pointed out to me as the owner of the place, and who, upon my introducing myself, received me with a hearty English grip of the hand. "Hang it, my lad, it brings old times back to see a face fresh from home! You're your mother's boy plain enough. But come in, and welcome, my lad, though we have been in a bit of a stew; my girl upset in a canoe and half drowned; but the gentleman with her saved her. She's not much the worse for it, though."

I turned round hastily and just in time to stop Tom, who was about to blurt out the whole affair, for I thought it better to be silent, I hardly knew why, my mind being just then in a state of confusion, it being rather startling to find that I had probably been the means of saving the life of my own cousin; though why the gentleman who was with her—whoever he might be—should have the credit of what Tom and I had done, I did not know. Anyhow, I was to be beneath the same roof, and I thought matters would come right in the end.

My uncle led the way into a cool half-darkened room, where I was introduced to an aunt, of whose existence I was not aware, inasmuch as she was the lately married widow of a neighbouring planter. Then I heard my uncle say:

"Not lying down, Lill? All right again? Glad of it! Well, this is a cousin for you, and I hope you will be good friends."

I hardly know what I did or said just then; for timidly coming forward out of the shade, I saw the fair vision of the morning, but now deadly pale—the maiden whom a couple of hours before I had rescued from so horrible a death. She was dressed in a simple muslin, and her long fair hair, yet clammy and damp, was tied with a piece of blue ribbon, and hung down her shoulders. It was the same sweet English face that might be seen in many a country home far away in our northern islands; but out there, in that tropic land, with its grand scenery and majestic vegetation, she seemed to me, in spite of her pallor, to be fairy-like and ethereal; and for a while, as I thought of the events of a short time before—events in which she was unconscious that I had played a somewhat important part—I was blundering and awkward, and unable to say more than a few of the commonest words of greeting.

I have no doubt that they all thought me an awkward clumsy oaf, and I must have looked it; but I was suddenly brought to myself by my uncle's voice and the sight of a pair of eyes.

"Harry," said my uncle, performing the ceremony of introduction, "Mr—(I beg his pardon) Don—Don Pablo Garcia, a neighbour of mine—the gentleman who just saved Lilla's life. Garcia, my nephew—my sister's son—from old England."

Instinctively I held out my hand, and the next moment it was clasping something cold and damp and fishlike. A few words in English passed, but they were muttered mechanically, and for a few moments, each apparently unable to withdraw his hand, we two stood looking in each other's eyes, my expression—if it was a true index of my heart—being that of wonder and distrust; for I seemed again, for the first time in my life, to be undergoing a new series of sensations. I knew in that instant of time that I was gazing into the eyes of a deadly enemy—of a man who, for self-glorification, had arrogated to himself the honour of having saved Lilla's life, probably under the impression that we, being strangers, were bound down the river, and would never again turn up to contradict him. What he had said, how much he had taken upon himself, or how much had been laid upon him through the lying adulations of his Indian servants, I do not know; but I was conscious of an intense look of hatred and dislike—one that was returned by a glance of contempt which made his teeth slightly grate together, though he tried to conceal all by a snake-like smile as he recovered himself, and, seeking a way out of his difficulty, exclaimed:

"The senor and I have met before: he helped me to save our woodland flower from the river."

"Indeed! my dear Harry!" exclaimed my uncle, catching my disengaged hand in his, while by an effort I dragged the other away from Garcia's cold clutch, his eyes fixing mine the while, and seeming to say, "Be careful, or I'll have your life!"—mine, if they could speak a language that he could interpret, plainly saying, "You cowardly hound, you left her to perish!"

"It was nothing on my part, Uncle," I said quietly. "Nothing but what any fellow from the old country would have done."

The next moment Mrs Landell, my new aunt, had thrown her arms round my neck. Formality of greeting was at an end, and, with tears in her eyes, she thanked me and welcomed me to the hacienda.

I was longing for the scene to be at an end, for I was growing troubled and confused, when once more the tell-tale blood swept into my face, as I blushed like a great girl; for Lilla came up, and with the colour mantling, too, in her pale cheeks, thanked me for what I had done.

It was some few minutes before I was sufficiently cool and collected to have a good look at Garcia, when I found him to be a tall, well-shaped, and swarthy young fellow, about five years my senior. He was handsome, but there was a sinister look about his dark eyes, and, in spite of his effeminacy, his lithe limbs betokened great strength. An instinctive feeling of dislike, though, kept growing upon me, although there was a pleasant smile, and a display of regular white teeth, which he turned upon me every time he encountered my eyes, as he lounged about smoking a cigar, whose fragrance betokened its origin. He was easy of mien, well-dressed, and evidently at home there; while by contrast I was shabby, travel-stained, and awkward.

I disliked him at first, because I knew him to be a cur and a liar; but soon—ay, before ten minutes had elapsed—I knew why my instinctive dislike was increasing every moment we were together. I learned why we were to be enemies to the end; for after smoking some time in silence, listening the while with smiling face to my uncle's questions concerning home—questions which I answered clumsily, growing each moment more put out and annoyed; for it seemed to me that Garcia's smiles were pitying, and that he was comparing his grace with my awkwardness—he rose, crossed over to Lilla, who was seated, took her hand in his as if it belonged to him of right, raised it to his lips, and then, with a smiling farewell to all present, he whispered a few words to my cousin, gave me—his lips smiling the while—a sharp meaning look from between his half-closed eyelids, and then his figure darkened for an instant the sunshine streaming in at the door, and he was gone.



CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS.

"Well, lad," said my uncle, when, refreshed by a pleasant bath and a glass or two of goodly wine with the meal spread for me, I sat with him in the shaded room, my aunt—a pleasant, comely, Englishwoman—seated with her daughter, working by one of the open windows—"well, lad, people don't come a four or five thousand miles' journey on purpose to pay visits. What have you got in your eye?"

"Frankly, Uncle," I said, "I don't know. I could not rest at home, and felt that I must go abroad; and now I must say that I am glad of my resolution."

I thought at first, as I was speaking, of the beautiful scenery, but in the latter part of my speech I was looking towards Lilla, and for a moment our eyes met.

My uncle shook his head as I finished speaking.

"Soap-boiling isn't a pleasant trade, Harry," he said; "but as the old saying goes, 'Dirty work brings clean money.' There's always been a comfortable home for you, hasn't there?"

"Yes, Uncle," I said impatiently.

"And plenty to eat, and drink, and wear?"

"Yes, Uncle."

"And your father kept you at good schools till you were seventeen or eighteen?"

"Yes, Uncle."

"Then—it's plain speaking, but I must give it to you, Harry—you were a young fool to leave it all. You were like the dog with the shadow, you've dropped a good mouthful of meat to grasp at nothing. You'd have done better sticking to the soap."

"I couldn't, Uncle," I exclaimed.

"Ah! that's what all you young donkeys say. Only to think of it— throwing up the chance of a good, sure trade!"

"But, my dear uncle, I was so unsuited for it, though I am ready enough to work. If you can give me employment, pray do so, for do not think I have come to be a burden to you."

"My dear boy," he said gravely, "I don't think anything of the sort. You are welcome here; and we owe you, it seems, the life of our dear child, though what your share was in saving her I don't know. Don't think, though, that we are not glad to see you. There," he said, laughing, "there's your aunt ready again to throw her arms around your neck, you see."

Mrs Landell had dropped her work and crossed over to lay her hand upon my shoulder, while there was a tear—one bright, gem-like tear of gratitude—sparkling in Lilla's eye as she looked up timidly from her work, and that stupid young heart of mine gave a tremendous thump against my chest.

There was a pause then for a few minutes, when, in a thick, husky voice, I once more tried to speak.

"I'm sure," I said, "your welcome is warmer than I deserve; and indeed, Uncle, I wish to be no burden to you. If you would rather not employ me, say so frankly; but perhaps you might, all the same, put me in the way of getting on as you have done."

"As I have done!" he said laughing. "I see, my dear boy, you look at things with just the same eyes that I did when I came over years ago. It's a lovely country, isn't it, Harry?"

"Glorious!" I cried excitedly.

"Yes," he said sadly; "glorious as the gilded frame of a mirror, all lustre and brightness, while underneath it is composition, and wood, and ill-smelling glue. Why, my dear boy, I am only living from hand to mouth. This looks, of course, all very bright and beautiful to you, and a wonderful contrast to hazy, foggy, cold old England—Heaven bless it! But fire-flies, and humming-birds, and golden sunshine, and gaily-painted blossoms are not victuals and drink, Harry; and, besides, when you set to and earn your victuals and drink, you don't know but what they will all be taken away from you. We've no laws here, my lad, worth a rush. We're a patriotic people here, with a great love of our country—we Spanish, half-bred republican heroes," he said bitterly, "and we love that country so well, Harry, that we are always murdering and enriching it with the blood of its best men. It might be a glorious place, but man curses it, and we are always having republican struggles, and bloodshed, and misery. We are continually having new presidents, here, my lad; and after being ruined three times, burned out twice, and saving my life by the skin of my teeth, the bright flowers and great green leaves seem to be powdered with ashes, and I'd gladly, any day, change this beautiful place, with its rich plantations, for fifty acres of land in one of the shires at home."

"But don't you take rather a gloomy view of it all, Uncle?" I said, as I looked at him curiously.

But to my great discomfiture he burst out laughing, for he had read my thoughts exactly.

"My liver is as sound as yours, Harry, my boy," he said; "and I don't believe that there's a heartier man within fifty miles. No, my lad, I'm not jaundiced. There's no real prosperity here. The people are a lazy, loafing set, and never happy but when they are in hot water. There's the old, proud hidalgo blood mixed up in their veins; they are too grand to work—too lazy to wash themselves. There isn't a decent fellow in the neighbourhood, except one, and his name is Garcia—eh, Lill?" he said, laughing.

Lilla's face crimsoned as she bent over her work, while a few minutes after she rose and whispered to Mrs Landell.

"You must excuse me, Harry," said my aunt, rising. "Lilla is unwell; the shock has been too much for her."

The next moment I was alone with my uncle, who proceeded in the same bitter strain:

"Yes, my lad, commerce is all nohow here—everything's sluggish, and I cannot see how matters are to mend. I'm glad to see you—heartily glad you have come. Stay with us a few months if you are determined upon a colonial life; see all you can of the country and judge for yourself; but Heaven forbid that I should counsel my sister's child to settle in such a revolutionary place!"

I was not long in finding out the truth of my uncle's words. The place was volcanic, and earthquakes of no uncommon occurrence; but Nature in the soil was not one half as bad as Nature in the human race—Spanish half-blood and Indian—with which she had peopled the region, for they were, to a man, stuffed with explosive material, which the spark of some speaker's language was always liable to explode.

But I was delighted with the climate, in spite of the heat; and during the calm, cool evenings, when the moon was glancing through the trees, bright, pure, and silvery, again and again I thought of how happy I could be there but for one thing.

That one thing was not the nature of the people nor their revolutionary outbursts, for I may as well own that commerce or property had little hold upon my thoughts until I found how necessary the latter was for my success. My sole thought in those early days, and the one thing that troubled me, was the constant presence of my uncle's wealthy neighbour, Pablo Garcia.

It was plain enough that he had been for months past a visitor, and that he had been looked upon as a suitor for Lilla's hand; but I could not discover whether she favoured him or no, for after meeting him a few times his very presence, with his calm, supercilious treatment of one whom he evidently hated from the bottom of his soul, was so galling to me, that upon his appearance I used to go out and ramble away for hours together, seeking the wilder wooded parts, and the precipitous spurs of the mountains, climbing higher and higher, till more than once in some lonely spot I came upon some trace of a bygone civilisation—ruined temple, or palace of grand proportions, but now overthrown and crumbling into dust, with the dense vegetation of the region springing up around, and in many places so covering it that it was only by accident that I discovered, in the darkened twilight of the leafy shade, column or mouldering wall, and then sat down to wonder and try and think out of the histories of the past who were the people that had left these traces of a former grandeur, and then over some carven stone light would spring to my understanding—a light that brought with it a thrill of hope. Then I would return, as night threatened to hide the track, back to my uncle's, to be treated coldly, as I thought, by Lilla, while more than once it seemed that my uncle gazed upon me in a troubled way.



CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

TOM SPEAKS HIS MIND.

A couple of months soon glided away—a time of mingled misery and pleasure. At one time I was light-hearted and happy, at another low-spirited and depressed; for I could not see that there was the slightest prospect of my hopes ever bearing fruit. I was growing nervous, too, about Garcia; not that I feared him, but his manner now betokened that he bore me ill-will of the most intense character.

As for Lilla, the longer I was at the hacienda the more plain it became that she feared him, shuddering at times when he approached—tokens of dislike that made his eyes flash, and for which it was very evident that he blamed me.

But his blame was unjust; he had credited me with having made known the cowardly part he had played on the river; but though my uncle and aunt were ignorant of it, the news reached Lilla's ears, the medium being Tom Bulk.

Tom had settled down very comfortably at the hacienda, taking to smoking and hanging about the plantation sheds, and doing a little here or there as it pleased him, but none the less working very hard; and many a time I had come across him glistening with perspiration as he tugged at some heavy bag with all an Englishman's energy when all around were sluggishly looking on. He studiously avoided the woods, though, save when he saw me off upon a ramble; and it was one day when I was standing by Lilla's side at an open window, previous to taking a long walk, that our attention was taken up by high words in the yard close at hand.

That Tom was one of the actors was plain enough, for his words came loud, clear, and angry to where we stood; and it was evident that he was taking the part of one of the Indian girls, who was weeping, probably from blows inflicted by one of her countrymen, whose gallantry is not proverbial.

"You red varmint," cried Tom fiercely, "I'll let you know what's what! We don't strike women in our country—no, not even if they hit us."

Interested as I was, the recollection of a sharp slap I had heard at home would come to my memory.

"And I tell you what, if you touch her again I'll make that face of yours a prettier colour than it is now."

"Pray go and tell my father," whispered Lilla anxiously. "Quarrels here are very serious sometimes, and end in loss of life."

Crack! There was the sound of a blow followed by a woman's shriek of pain.

"Why, you cowardly hound!" I heard Tom shout. "You dare hit her, then—you who sneaked off along with your grand Spanish Don when the boat was upset, and left young miss to drown! You're a brave one, you are, and then you all go and take the credit, when it was my Mas'r Harry who saved her. Take that, you beggar, and that—and that!"

Tom's words were accompanied by the sounds of heavy blows; and on leaping out of the window I came upon him, squaring away, and delivering no meanly-planted blows upon the chests and faces of a couple of Indians, while a woman crouched, trembling and weeping, and writhing with pain, upon the ground.

"That's a settler for you anyhow!" said Tom, as he sent one of his adversaries staggering back for a few yards, to fall heavily, when the other retreated, but only for both to out with a knife each, and again come forward to the attack.

But my appearance upon the scene stayed them, and they slunk scowling away.

"I'll knock the wind out of some on 'em, Mas'r Harry, spite of their knives," cried Tom excitedly. "I'll let 'em know how an Englishman serves them that knocks women about. Hit her with a great thick stick, he did—cuss him! I'll let him know!"

"Be quiet, Tom! Are you mad?" I said, catching him by the collar, for he was squaring away at the Indians, who were a couple of dozen yards away.

"What did he go knocking her about for? Yah! Mas'r Harry, they're a rotten lot out here, and the country's a thousand times too good for them!"

By degrees I got Tom cooled down, and into the house, and on returning I found Lilla standing watching for me at the window, but only to gaze at me with a strange, troubled look, half pain, half pleasure, and before I could speak she had fled.

But an hour had not passed before I came upon her again, speaking anxiously to Tom. They did not see me approach, and as I was close up I was just in time to hear Tom exclaim:

"But he did, Miss, and stuck to you when all the rest had got ashore— the Don and all."

Lilla gave a faint shriek as I spoke; and then darting at me a look of reproach, she hurried away, leaving me excited and troubled; for she had learned a secret that I had intended should not come to her ears.

"How dare you go chattering about like that?" I cried fiercely to Tom, for I was anxious to have some one to blame.

"Don't care, Mas'r Harry," he said sulkily. "Miss Lilla asked me, and I never told her only the truth. They are a cowardly set of hounds, the whole lot of 'em; and I'll take any couple of 'em, one down and t'other come on, with a hand tied behind me."

"We shall have to go, Tom," I said bitterly. "What with your brawls and the mischief you have made, this will be no place for us."

I spoke with gloomy forebodings in my mind, for I could not but think that trouble was to be our lot. Poor and without prospects, and with a rich and favoured rival, what was I to hope for? Indeed I felt ready to despair.

"Say, Mas'r Harry," said Tom penitently, "'tain't so bad as that, is it?"

"Bad! Yes, Tom," I said gloomily, and I turned and left him.

It was a day or two after. I had only seen Lilla at meals, to find her shy and distraite. She hardly seemed to notice me, but I had the satisfaction of seeing that Garcia fared no better.

But he smiled pleasantly, evidently to conceal the rage that burned within him, and more than once there was a hateful glare in his eye that evidently boded no good to those who crossed his path; and it seemed as if I had not only crossed his path, but now stood right in his way.

We had just finished the mid-day meal. Garcia had been with us, and on Lilla rising he had followed her to the door; but she had turned from him with a look of contempt, when, white with passion, he had been unable to control himself, but dashed out of the place, muttering fiercely.

My uncle had seen all, and his countenance lowered, but for a while he did not speak. He walked to a closet, took out a cigar, and sat smoking till Mrs Landell had left the room, when, beckoning me to him, he pointed to a chair, and then, as soon as I was seated, he gave utterance to what was in his mind.

"Harry, my lad," he said, "I am a plain, straightforward fellow, and I like frankness. I'm going now to speak very plainly to you, for I'm not blind. You've taken a fancy to little Lill."

I rose, holding by the back of my chair, blushed, blundered, and then stood without a word.

"I see I am right," he said coolly. "But look here, Hal. I can't call to mind a single dishonourable act committed by a member of either of the families from which you sprang. Now listen to me: have you ever said a word—you know what I mean—to Lilla?"

"Oh, no, Uncle!" I exclaimed warmly.

"Quite right, my lad—quite right, for it would not do. You see, Hal, she has money in her own right, and you are not worth twopence. The girl is in my care. I hold her from her relations, as it were, in trust; and it seems to me that it would be like taking advantage of my position if I encouraged anything between her and a poor relative of my own. You'll have to go away, Harry, unless you can make me a promise, and keep to it."

"What am I to promise?" I said gloomily; for he had ceased speaking; and I began to realise what going away meant. "What am I to promise?" I said again.

"Promise me, as a man of honour, that you will not in any way take advantage of your position here."

"Is it likely," I said bitterly, "when I am not worth twopence, and there is some one else in the field?"

"Don't be spiteful, lad, because things don't go as you wish. We all have to bear crosses in our time. But, as you say, there's some one else in the field. Garcia is an old lover, and I am under obligations to him. You must not in any way cross his path, Hal, for he is rich, and possesses a good deal of power over the Indians about here. I should say, Hal, that in this lawless country that man's life would not be safe who stood between him and his wishes. Don't offend him, Hal— don't offend him, Hal. He's a good fellow, but, like all those half-bloods, very susceptible."

"I'll promise you anything you like," I said gloomily, "but don't send me away. Let me stay and do something so as not to be an encumbrance to you, but don't send me away."

"No one wants to send you away, Hal," said my uncle kindly. "Look about you and see the country; shoot and fish a little, too. I need not say, beware of the caymen—the river swarms with them. See all you can of the place, and then you'll have to try somewhere else. Texas or one of the States—those are the places for a young fellow like you."

I sighed to myself, for it seemed to me now that there was no place on earth bearable but the one where Lilla dwelt; and then, clapping me on the shoulder, my uncle rose and went out.

I followed him at the end of a few minutes; and, so as to be alone, I wandered away from the house and heedlessly took one of the paths that led down to the river bank.



CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

UNDER FASCINATION.

It was very hot, but I did not notice it as I walked slowly and thoughtfully on. The sun was kept from beating down upon me by the dense foliage, but there was a steamy heat arising that at another time I should have felt oppressive. The country was so completely in a state of nature all around that half a mile from the hacienda one almost seemed to be traversing places where the foot of man had never trod. But nothing seemed then to take my attention, for I was forcing myself to remember that I was to think no more about Lilla; and at last I had worked myself round to believe that I should respect the promise given to my uncle, while I devoted myself to a project that had fixed itself in my mind—a project full of romance and imagination, one that might make me wealthy—in a position wherein I could laugh at Garcia's pretensions and boldly ask my uncle's consent, for I was hopeful of obtaining Lilla's. I was poor now, but need not remain so. Suppose by one grand stroke I could possess myself of the riches of a prince—how then?

The thought of it all was so exciting that I strode on, rapt in the golden vision, till reason pointed out two obstacles: I might not succeed; and even if I did succeed, I might be too late and find that Garcia had won the prize we both had coveted.

"I'll try, though," I muttered.

And then I laughed bitterly as I thought of my uncle's warning. I was not afraid of Garcia, for he was at heart, I knew, a coward; but until I was in a position to come forward I felt sadly that my duty was to avoid Lilla—to leave all to the future; for, with the chances of failure so strongly opposed to me, it would not have been fair to have asked her to wait for what might never come to pass; and then, with the recollection of my beggarly position taunting me, I told myself bitterly that I might as well go back home and turn soap-boiler, and not stay out there indulging in golden dreams.

It was a scene almost of enchantment where I stood musing, but the beauties around had no charms for me. I was too much engrossed with the thoughts of old readings respecting the region in which I then was. I was recalling its history and the assertions of old writers respecting its wealth in gems and the precious metals. I did not see that now and then a timid deer had gazed at me for a moment and then bounded away through the brake; neither that again and again a deadly cascabel had glided, worm-like, almost from beneath my feet, uttering a low, ominous hiss as it wriggled away through the tall grass. Gorgeously-painted butterflies, grand in size, fluttered before me, to settle here and there upon some blossom bright as themselves, and then flit away again through the shadowy, golden-rayed forest arcades. Gem-like humming-birds darted here and there, while hardly less bright parroquets of many a hue shrieked, whistled, and climbed in restless fashion around. Once there was a heavy, scuffling noise, and a small alligator dashed away towards a creek; but I could see nothing but gold—gold that should make me rich and win for me Lilla's love—a love that I dared to hope was mine already, even though I was but a beggarly adventurer.

Gold—always gold—everything was gilded; and through the golden haze that seemed to glow around me I saw a golden future of brightness, and happiness, and love. I grew more and more excited with the thoughts that pressed upon me, and at last, with a sensation of triumph, I exclaimed aloud:

"History shall be my divining-rod and the earth shall yield up her treasures! I shall not be the first adventurer to the golden mines who has brought home treasures; only that, if I win, I shall also gain a treasure greater far than those of old, for Lilla will also be my prize."

This was the kind of mental stilt-talking I indulged in that day, seeing only the golden side. No doubt it seems very romantic and silly to the reader; but I have known young men, taken badly with that distemper called first love, just as romantic and excitable. In fact, many of us as we grow older recall our sensations, acts, and deeds, felt and performed during that strange delirium, with something like a smile upon our lips, though at the time every reader will agree with me I was somewhat of a goose.

I was romantic enough, and could only see the golden side; but there was a future before me such as I could not dream of—a reverse, terrible, thrilling, and enough, could I have penetrated the unknown, to have made me turn shuddering away, daring not, for the sake of others, to prosecute searches whose results would have been too terrible to contemplate.

Rousing myself from my reverie, with my mind fully made up as to my future proceedings, I looked round, to find that I was but a very short distance from the hacienda, in a beautiful part of the forest that my uncle had as yet spared, but which he talked of, before long, clearing and adding to the plantation which it bounded.

I walked on for a dozen yards, parting the undergrowth as I went, walking cautiously now, for I had suddenly awakened to the fact that there might be danger in every bush or tuft of luxuriant, reedy grass; but there was, I knew, a beaten track a little farther on which led to the plantation, through which I meant to return.

And then, fifty yards through the dense vegetation, I came upon a creek—a mere ditch—leading to the river, half full of marshy growth, when, walking back a few yards for impetus, I ran from the bank, and was in the act of leaping the creek when every nerve seemed to thrill with a horrible sense of chilling dread, as beneath my feet there was a rushing rustling noise, mingled with the splashing of mud and water, the reedy grass bent and waved in different directions, and, though invisible to me, it was evident that some hideous beast—reptile, or whether serpent or cayman I could not tell—was retreating towards the river, perhaps only to turn upon me the next moment.

The danger was not visible; but unseen perils are sometimes more dreadful than those we meet face to face, when the imagination does not magnify the horror.

At any rate, with my heart beating heavily I alighted amongst the grass on the other side, dashed on, and a few minutes after was in the track, down which I turned, but only to stop spell-bound the next minute, as I reached a flowery opening across which lay the decaying huge trunk of a large fallen tree.

The place was a dense thicket all around of bright-hued blossoms, with their attendant train of bird and gorgeous insect. Huge trees threw their sheltering arms across, to break up the sun's rays into golden showers, which flecked and danced upon every verdant spot; but the great beauty of the scene which held me there was the sight of Lilla seated upon the fallen trunk, her little straw hat hanging from one muslin-covered arm by the knotted strings, and a little basket filled to overflowing with bright-hued flowers fallen at her feet.

I could not move nor speak for a few minutes, and then I was hesitating as to what I should do: avoid every meeting such as this out of respect to my promise, or warn her that but a short distance back I had come upon some hidden danger.

"She will laugh at me," I thought. "She is so used to hear of the forest inhabitants; and besides, after all, I did not see anything; it may only have been some timid animal escaping. I will go back another way."

In spite of myself a sigh escaped me as I gazed at the graceful form; and then, as I leaned forward it seemed to me that her attitude was unnatural and strained—that she was gazing intently upwards, as if at something a short distance above her head. I took a step forward— another and another, but she did not move; when, following the direction of her gaze, I found her eyes were fixed with a strange fascination at the great bough above her—a huge gnarled and knotted bough, with here and there a tuft of foliage upon it, while its great thick bark was tinted and shady with rich brown and umber mosses, and—

"Good heavens!" I ejaculated, and then I was speechless. A sense of horror was constricting my heart. I was, as it were, fixed to the ground where I stood, hardly able to breathe, for as I had gazed at the rich marking on the great knotted limb a strange shuddering vibration had passed through it—it was in motion for many feet along its thickest part, and the umber markings glistened; for they were upon the scaly skin of a huge serpent, lying in many a fold and convolution upon the mighty bough.

What did it mean—what was going to happen?

I could not tell; but a deadly sickness came over me—a cold clammy perspiration bedewed my limbs. I could only see as through a mist, but plainly enough I could make out that fold was gliding over fold in a horrible lacing and enlacing of gigantic knots, till slowly the reptile's head was thrust forward, with a gentle waving motion, rising from amidst a tuft of leaves; and then, as the gliding of the folds continued, the head descended in a slow, waving, swinging fashion, foot after foot nearer and nearer to Lilla, a forked tongue flashing and playing about the frightful jaws, and the hideous eyes fascinating the poor girl, so that I saw her gradually moving towards it.

Slowly, and ever rising and falling, the huge serpent's head was lowered foot after foot of its vast length while fold after fold was gliding over the bough, and all this while I stood fixed to the earth as in the nightmare of a horrible dream.



CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

WHAT FOLLOWED THE ESCAPE.

I said at the end of the last chapter that it was like being in the nightmare of some horrible dream. I repeat that assertion; for as I recall my sensations I see again the horrible swaying head playing gently up and down, nearer and nearer, the sun glistening on the burnished coils, while others were hidden, to have their presence revealed by the quivering of twig and trembling of leaf, as they passed fold over fold, the monstrous reptile playing, as it were, with its victim, and approaching in a slow leisurely manner; but it was with the sense that in an instant it could fling itself upon its prey with the speed, force, and certainty of a well-cast lasso. It was the play of the cat tribe with prey; for I knew the mighty strength and elasticity of the coils—how they could dart, plunge, and then be rolled one upon the other round a helpless body in a hideous knot—how the knot would tighten till bones cracked and splintered, and the victim was reduced to a shapeless mass, ready to receive the horrible saliva of the monster previous to deglutition.

I could only stand with tottering knees, parted lips, staring eyes, and painfully drawn breath, longing to engage in the unequal fight, or to, at least, make some noise to divert the horrible beast; but my mouth and throat were dry—I could not utter a sound. I was numbed in body, but the mental anguish was fearful, for all activity seemed to have fled to the seat of thought and in imagination I saw all that was to follow.

And all this time—a time whose duration seemed to me hours—Lilla did not move. At first, while being drawn under the loathsome reptile's fascination, she had gradually leaned towards it, till, fixed of eye, she had stopped perfectly motionless, as inch after inch her intended murderer approached.

I would gladly have closed my eyes, but I could not, any more than I could afford help. And now, unwilling witness that I was, I saw that the moment of extreme horror was approaching, for the serpent had drawn its folds on to a portion of the branch free from foliage; the coils were bent as if ready for a spring, the head was drawn back, the jaws distended; and at last I gave utterance to a hoarse cry and sprang forward, the spell that had held me was broken, and the next instant Lilla was in my arms, just as I heard a rustle; then there was a rush, and I was dashed violently to the ground.

But there were no coils round either of us, lashing us in a horrible embrace—no fangs were fixed in my shoulder; but lashing, darting, and whipping itself, as it were, in every direction, beating down tall grass and bushy growth, its horrible eyes flashing with pain and rage, the serpent was close at hand, while the next instant its coils were wrapt round a large jaguar, whose teeth and claws were fixed in the thickest part of the reptile, the creature holding on with all its might, at the same time that, cat-like in its every act, it tore and ripped away at its enemy's body with the great talons of its hinder paws.

There was a fierce, savage, worrying growl, the snapping and rustling of tree and shrub, the lashing about of the serpent's body, as, now coiled round its assailant, now forced by agony to unwind, the two terrors of the South American forest continued their struggle. Now they were half-hidden by the undergrowth, whose disturbance only showed the changes in the savage warfare; now they struggled into sight, and it was very evident that the serpent was being worsted in the encounter, the jaguar having in the first strokes of its powerfully-armed hind paws inflicted terrible wounds, which incapacitated the reptile from using its potent weapon—the crushing power of its folds.

For a few minutes I could hardly believe in our escape from so horrible a peril; but, so far, we were undoubtedly safe, the tide of war now beginning, indeed, to roll away, it being evident that the jaguar was thoroughly worsting its enemy. At last I saw the huge tail of the serpent rise above the long grass, to vibrate and quiver in the air, twisting as if the horrible beast were in extreme agony; then it disappeared, and I prepared to try and bear Lilla away, for it was plain that the long-continued struggle was bringing the combatants back towards where we crouched.

But they only came near enough for me to catch, amidst the rapid evolutions, two or three glimpses of the jaguar's glistening, spotted coat, as he clung, still apparently unharmed, to his long lithe adversary, whose head was darting here, there, everywhere, in search of an avenue for escape. Then, again, came a series of writhing contortions, as the serpent twined itself in its agony round the quadruped; and over and over, with the foliage crackling and snapping, they rolled, but ever now farther and farther away, till it was with a feeling of extreme thankfulness that I knelt there, holding the fainting girl in my arms, gazing eagerly in her pale face, and thinking of the fearful fate she had escaped.

Her eyes unclosed the next moment, to gaze in mine with a wild horrified aspect, till, awaking fully to the fact that she was saved, she flung her arms tightly round my neck, clinging to me, and then buried her face, sobbing vehemently, in my bosom.

Lilla had just raised her blushing face to mine, as she tried now, feebly, to free herself from my protecting arms; and then I started angrily up, for from close behind came the words:

"Say, Mas'r Harry, is that there the custom of the country?"

"You impertinent dog, how dare you?" I exclaimed angrily. "What do you mean by spying there, and then asking such a question?"

"Only wanted to know, Mas'r Harry; because if it is the custom it's all right; if it ain't the custom it's all wrong, and Master Landell and the Don, who are close behind, might think it queer."

"We've just had a narrow escape from a most horrible death, Tom," I exclaimed hastily. "Thank you for your warning."

The next moment voices were audible. There was the rustling of the foliage, and as Lilla stood pale and leaning heavily upon my arm, my uncle and Garcia came hastily into sight.



CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

TROPHIES.

I have seen some villainous-looking countenances in my time, but none more abhorrent of aspect than was that of Pablo Garcia, as, distorted with rage, he started on seeing Lilla resting half supported by me. The handsome regularity of his features seemed then to have the effect of making the distortion more striking. There was an angry frown, too, upon my uncle's face as he strode up; and, almost roughly taking Lilla from me, he exclaimed hoarsely:

"Harry, after what I said I did not expect this."

"It was quite by accident we met, Uncle. Lilla has had a terrible shock," I exclaimed hastily. "A hideous serpent—terrible conflict—"

I stopped short, for there was a sneering grin of disbelief on Garcia's countenance, which made me want to dash my fist in his face, as he said:

"Very terrible conflict—a very dragon attacking the maiden, and this new Saint George of England coming to her rescue. I don't see any blood about."

"I should like to make some come from his nose," muttered Tom.

"What has happened?" said my uncle frowning; for he did not seem to like Garcia's allusion.

Lilla spoke in faint trembling tones:

"I was resting after gathering those flowers, when a rustling overhead took my attention, and—ah!—"

She shuddered, turned pale, and covered her face with her hands, quite unable to proceed; when my uncle turned to me, and I explained what I had seen, in proof of which I turned to the beaten-down foliage, upon which lay thickly, in spite of Garcia's words, fast-drying spots and gouts of blood, which we traced right down to the river's bank, in a dense bed of reeds, where they ceased, and it was not thought advisable to search farther.

"Let us get back, my child," said my uncle tenderly to Lilla. "You must come alone into the woods no more."

There was a troubled and meaning tone in my uncle's words, and more than once I caught his eye directed at me. But directly after he moved off towards the hacienda, closely followed by Garcia, while I hung back undecided how to act; for I was suffering from a troubled conscience, as I thought of the promise I had so lately given.

My reverie was interrupted by Tom, who had been standing unnoticed.

"Did you see Muster Garshar, Mas'r Harry," said Tom; "how he showed you the whole of his teeth, just like a mad dog going to bite?"

"No, Tom; I did not take particular notice of him," I said.

"Well, I did, Mas'r Harry," said Tom; "and if you take my advice you'll look out; for they're a rum lot here, as you know. They don't hit with the fist, only when that there fist has got an ugly-looking knife in it, sharp as a razor; and when they hit a poor fellow with it, and he dies afterwards, they don't call it murder—they call it fighting—a set of uncultivated, ignorant savages! I only wish I had the teaching of them! But look here, Mas'r Harry, you'll take care, won't you?"

"Why, Tom?" I said dreamily.

"Why, Mas'r Harry? Why? because Muster Garshar don't like you—not a bit. That's all."

I shrugged my shoulders.

"Ah! you may hyste your shoulders till you skretches your ears with them, Mas'r Harry; but that don't make no better of it. I promised your mother as I'd take care of you and stick to you; but how am I to do that if you get yourself spoiled somehow or other? But, say, Mas'r Harry, was it such a werry big un?"

"Was what a very big one?" I said wonderingly.

"Why, the sarpint—it might have been a sea-sarpint, for nobody seemed to believe in it."

"Yes," I said moodily, "an enormous beast."

"And he got it pretty hot from the tiger thing?"

"You saw the blood about, and now hold your tongue."

"But I ain't done yet, Mas'r Harry," said Tom eagerly. "That there Don wouldn't believe in it, and we knowed that it went into that brake. What do you say to going up to the house, getting the guns, and then shooting the beast and skinning him; so as to show them that English lads don't go bouncing and swelling about without they've got something to bounce and swell about?"

There was something in Tom's project that interested me, and I turned to him with eagerness. Adventure—something to prove that I had been no boaster, something to divert the current of my thoughts; it was the very thing, but I said gloomily the next minute:

"We should be too late, Tom; the beast must have taken to the river."

"All wounded beasts make to the water, Mas'r Harry," said Tom; "but we don't know that we should be too late. What I say is—Let's try."

"Come along then," I cried.

We walked up to the hacienda, encountering Garcia on the portal, ready to bestow upon us both a sneering grin as we again issued forth, each carrying a double gun loaded with buck-shot.

I don't think we, either of us, stopped to consider whether it was prudent to run the risk before us, with a very problematic chance of success; but hurrying back regardless of the sun, we soon stood once more by the fallen tree, and began to follow the beaten track left by the contending enemies till we reached the great brake by the river-side, when for the first time we turned and looked at each other.

"Oh! it's all right, Mas'r Harry," said Tom; "and if he's in here we'll soon rouse him out." For it was evident that he had interpreted the doubt that had found a home in my mind.

"You think it will be here still?" I said.

"Sartain, Mas'r Harry; and—hist! don't speak above a whisper. He's in there, sure enough; for look yonder at those monkeys, they ain't chattering and swinging about there for nothing."

In effect a family of monkeys were aloft howling and making a deafening din, and I could not help thinking with Tom that it meant the presence of enemies.

"Look out!" I shouted the next minute to Tom; for a huge crocodile that we had passed unseen, sleeping amongst the dank herbage, had apparently awakened to the belief that we were trying to cut off its retreat and charging down straight at Tom in order to reach the river, it was only by a grand display of activity that might have been learned of the monkeys above us that he avoided the onslaught, and the next minute the hideous reptile had disappeared from sight; but we could hear its rustling onward progress, followed by a heavy splash, one or two ominous growls, and the increased activity of the monkeys, showing that our ideas with respect to these latter were not without basis.

"I tell you what, Mas'r Harry," said Tom, as he stood mopping the perspiration from his face, "them ugly beasts have got a spite against me, I know they have; and if I'm lost, mind this, I'm swallowed down by one of them crocks, I know I am, so mind that; and if you do go home without me tell Sally Smith that I was swallowed by a crockeydile, and all for love of she. Now, Mas'r Harry, I'm ready if you are? Let's both keep together, tread softly, and take good steady aim before we fire; for this ain't like putting a handful of oats in the snow in our yard and then shooting at cock-sparrers. If we hit what we've come after, mind 'twill be something to put in the bag!"

I was now as excited as Tom, and together we stepped slowly on through the dense brake, parting the heavy growth with the barrels of our guns as we trod lightly over the swampy ground, which sent up a hot, stifling, steamy exhalation.

Yard after yard we pressed on, watchful ever; but though the track was plain enough, the elastic water grasses had sprung back so as to thoroughly impede our view, and we knew that at any moment we might be ready to plant our feet upon the wounded monster that we sought.

Twice over little alligators went scuttling from beneath our feet, at the last time drawing forth an ejaculation from Tom, and then we stopped short with our guns at our shoulders; for Tom's utterance was followed by a warning shriek from the monkeys, and then, as that ceased, came a low, fierce, snarling growl from apparently just in front.

"What shall we do?" I thought.

For a moment I felt disposed to try and get round some other way, but the slightest movement now was sufficient to bring forth a growl from our invisible enemy; and it was very plain that we had tracked the jaguar to his lair while the boa had escaped.

To have retreated would have been to bring it down upon us; so after a glance at Tom's resolute face I made a sign and we took a step in advance.

Only one; we had time for no more, for with a savage yell the jaguar bounded right at Tom from the opening; we just obtained a glimpse of it, and it was like firing at a streak of something brown passing rapidly through the air, but fire I did, both barrels almost simultaneously; and the next moment Tom was knocked down and the jaguar had disappeared amongst the reeds we had but just passed.

"Are you hurt, Tom?" I cried anxiously, as I stooped to secure his undischarged gun.

"Hurt!" he exclaimed angrily; "of course I am! Just as if you could have one of them great cats fly at you and knock you over without being hurt! But I ain't killed, Mas'r Harry," he said, rising and shaking himself. "'Them as is born to be hanged won't never be drowned,' and them as is born to be swallowed by crocks won't never be torn to pieces by wild cats. Look out, Mas'r Harry! Give it him again!"

At that moment, snarling and lashing its tail from side to side as it showed us its white teeth, the jaguar now crept back, cat-like, on its belly, as if about to spring, when, with the best aim I could, I gave it both barrels of Tom's gun, and with a convulsive bound the brute rolled over, dead.

"That's hotter than the country, Mas'r Harry!" said Tom. "But we killed him, anyhow; so load up. But, my! Mas'r Harry, what a beauty! And did you see when he showed his teeth?—he was the very image of the Don!"

I did not reply to Tom's remarks; but as I reloaded I could not help admiring the glossy, spotted coat of the great beast I had just slain—a brute whose activity and power must have been immense.

But we had not performed the task we had come to complete. This was something upon which I had not counted; and now, though quite satisfied in my own mind that the serpent had escaped, we left our conquered assailant and once more began cautiously to pursue the track with guns pointed in advance, but without the expectation of a fresh assault, when, as if determined to be first this time, Tom suddenly fired at an upraised, threatening head, and it fell upon the monstrous, helpless, writhing coils of the immense serpent.

For it was evident that here the reptile had become too exhausted to continue its retreat, and Tom had administered the coup de grace.

It was almost an unnecessary shot, for the jaguar had terribly mangled the serpent, which was half-torn and bitten through in one place where it had been first seized; but even now I felt a strong desire to fire again, as I saw a hideous coil rise slowly and then fall motionless, while for the first time the monstrous proportions of the creature became apparent.

"Don't stir, Mas'r Harry!" cried Tom triumphantly. "Keep watch over 'em, or some one else will swear as he did it. I'll be back in less than half an hour."

Then, before I could utter a word of remonstrance, Tom had dashed off, leaving me to my loathsome wardership. But not for long; he was soon back with four Indians, giving his orders lustily, and we stood and looked on while they skinned the trophies.

"Perhaps they'll believe you now, Mas'r Harry," said Tom. "We'll take the skins up in triumph—that we will! But who'd ever have thought of my coming out here to shoot adders a hundred foot long?"

"Say five hundred, Tom," I said laughing.

"Well, ain't he, Mas'r Harry?" cried Tom innocently.

For from the effect of his elation it is probable that his eyes magnified, though, upon the skin being stretched out and measured, it proved to be exactly twenty feet three inches in length, while the reptile's girth was greater than the thigh of a stout, well-built man.

But at last, with our trophies borne in front, we made our way back to the hacienda, the Indians shouting, and the whole of the workpeople turning out to welcome us. But though my uncle expressed pleasure, and took the first opportunity of telling me that he had never for an instant doubted my word, it was plain enough that he was constrained in his manner; while as to Pablo Garcia, I believe that a blow would not have given him greater offence than did this proof which I forced upon him of the truth of my assertions.



CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

GOLDEN DREAMS.

I saw Lilla but once alone, and then the encounter was not of my seeking. She came up to me, though, with a sweet, sad expression in her face and a trusting look in her eyes that made my heart bound, as she laid her hands in mine and thanked me for what she called my gallantry; and I was so taken up by her words that I hardly noticed the scowl Garcia gave as he came in. In fact, just then my heart felt so large that in my joy I could have shaken hands with him so warmly that I should have made the bones of that fishy fin of his crack again.

But there was no handshaking: Garcia walking to the window and lighting a cigar, while Lilla hurried from the room, as was now her custom when Garcia came.

The first flush of joy passed and I was alone with the half-breed, to feel how impossible any friendly feeling was between us; and seeing that he was disposed to do nothing but stare at me in a half-sneering, half-scowling fashion, I strolled out, paying no heed to the burning sun as I made for the woods, where the trees screened me; and then on and on I went, mile after mile, through the hot steamy twilight, amidst giants of vegetation hoary with moss. Beast or reptile, harmless or noxious, troubled me little now, for I was in pursuit of the golden idol of my thoughts, winning it from its concealment, and then, with everything around gilded by its lustre, living in a future that was all happiness and joy.

But I was not always dreaming. At times I searched eagerly in places that I thought likely to be the homes of buried Peruvian treasure; without avail, though, for I had no guide—nothing but tradition and the misty phantoms of bygone readings.

To the people at the hacienda my wanderings must have seemed absurd, for though I took my gun I never brought anything back. This day game was in abundance, but I did not heed it—only wandered on till I came to a rugged part of the forest far up the mountain-side, and seated myself on a lump of moss-grown rock in a gloomy, shady spot, tired and discouraged by the thought that I was pursuing a phantom.

What should I do, then? I asked myself. Go, as my uncle advised, to Texas? That meant separation; and yet I knew that I could not stay, and, in spite of all my golden hopes, the future looked very black to me. I kept putting it off, but it would come. I must look the difficulty in the face—the end must arrive; and I laughed bitterly as I thought of my prospect—even if such treasures as I had heard of did exist—of finding either of them in the vast wilds spread for hundreds of miles around.

My meditations were interrupted by the sharp crackle made by a dry twig trampled upon by a foot; there was a rustling noise close behind me, and as I turned I became aware of a face peering out at me from a dense bank of creepers, as a voice whispered:

"Is your gun loaded, Mas'r Harry?"

"You here, Tom!" I exclaimed.

"Course I am!" said Tom indignantly. "What else did I come out here for if it wasn't to take care of you? And a nice game you're carrying on— playing bo-peep with a fellow! Here you are one minute, and I says to myself, 'He won't go out this morning.' Next moment I look round, and you're gone! But this here sort of thing won't do, sir! If you're going on like this I shall give notice to leave, or else I shall never get back alive."

"Why not?" I said, laughing at his anxious face.

"'Cause of these here rambling ways of yours, sir."

"And if I take care, pray what danger is there in them, Tom?"

"Care—care!" echoed Tom. "Why, that's what you don't take, sir. I'm 'Care,' and you leave me at home. You don't say, 'Come and look after me, Tom,' but go on trusting to yourself, while all the time you're like some one in a dream."

"But what is there to be afraid of, Tom?"

"Sarpints, sir!"

"Pooh, Tom! We can shoot them, eh?—even if they are a hundred feet long! Well, what else?"

Tom grinned before he spoke.

"Jaggers, sir!"

"Seldom out except of a night, Tom."

"Fevers, sir!"

"Only in the low river-side parts, Tom. We're hundreds of feet above the river here."

"Snakes in the grass, sir!"

"Pooh, Tom! They always glide off when they hear one coming."

"Not my sort, Mas'r Harry," said Tom in an anxious whisper. "They're a dangerous sort, with a kind of captain, and he's a half-breed. If you will have it, and won't listen to reason, you must. Mas'r Harry, there's snakes in the grass—Indian-looking chaps who watch your every step, sir. You haven't thought it; but I've always been on the look-out, and as they've watched you, I've watched them. But they got behind me to-day, Mas'r Harry, and saw me; and I don't know what to think—whether Muster Garcia has sent 'em, or whether they think you are looking for anything of theirs. You don't think it, Mas'r Harry, but at this very minute they're busy at work watching us."

I started slightly at one of his remarks, but passed it off lightly.

"Pooh, Tom!" I said. "Who's dreaming now?"

"Not me, Mas'r Harry. I was never so wide awake in my life. I tell you, sir, I've seen you poking and stirring up amongst the sticks and stones in all sorts of places, just as if you was looking for some old woman's buried crock of crooked sixpences; and as soon as you've been gone these Indian chaps have come and looked, and stroked all the leaves and moss straight again. You're after something, Mas'r Harry, and they're after something; but I can't quite see through any of you yet. Wants a good, stout, double-wicked six held the other side, and then I could read you both like a book."

"Nonsense, Tom—nonsense!" I cried; though I felt troubled, and a vague sense of uneasiness seemed to come over me.

"P'r'aps it is nonsense, Mas'r Harry—perhaps it ain't. But this here ain't Old England; so don't you get thinking as there's a policeman round every corner to come and help you, because there ain't, no more than there's a public-house round the corner to get half a pint when a fellow's tongue's dried up to his roof. So now let's understand one another, Mas'r Harry. You've got to keep close up to the house."

"Nonsense!" I exclaimed. "What good would that do? Look here, Tom, my good fellow: I know you are faithful and true-hearted, but you have been following me about till you have found a mare's nest and seen an enemy in every Indian. You must learn to keep your place, Tom, and not to interfere."

Tom did not answer—he only looked sulky. Then, spitting in his hands, he rubbed them together, crawled out of the bush, stood up, let his gun fall into the hollow of his arm, and then thrusting his hands into his pockets, stood looking at me, as if prepared for the worst.

"Going any farther, Mas'r Harry?" he said as I rose.

"Yes," I said, "I'm going up this gorge."

Then with Tom closely following, I climbed on till we were in a vast rift, whose sides were one mass of beautiful verdure spangled with bright blossoms. High overhead, towering up and up, were the mountains, whose snow-capped summits glistened and flashed in the sun, while the ridges and ravines were either glittering and gorgeous or shadowy and of a deep, rich purple, fading into the blackness of night.

I stopped gazing around at the platform above platform of rock rising above me, and thought of what a magnificent site one of the flat table-lands would make for a town, little thinking that once a rich city had flourished there. Even Tom seemed attracted by the beauty of the scene, for he stood gazing about till, seeing my intent, he came close behind me again, and together, with the traveller's love of treading the fresh and untried soil, we pressed on, climbing over loose fragments of rock, peering into the stream that bubbled musically down the bottom of the gorge, wending our way through the high growth of long tangled grass, till the gorge seemed to plunge into darkness, a huge eminence blocking the way, in whose face appeared a low, broad archway, forming the entrance to a tunnel, leading who could tell where?

Any attempt to follow another track was vain, as I soon perceived; for, as I saw, the gorge seemed to be continued beneath the archway, while right and left the rock was precipitous beyond the possibility of climbing even to the shelves, where ancient trees had securely rooted themselves in the sparse soil, to hang over and lend their gloom to the sombre scene.

But in spite of its mystery there was a something attractive in the vast cavern, from which it now became evident the little river sprang; for it ran trickling out beneath the rocks we clambered over, till we stood gazing in towards the shadowy depth, listening to strange echoes of a murmuring rising and falling sound that dominated all the faint whispers that escaped, as it were, from time to time to the light of day.

"What do you think of this, Tom?" I said, after vainly trying to see the cavern's extent.

"Think, Mas'r Harry? Why, it looks to me like the front door to Bogyland. But do let's get back, sir; for I was never so hungry before in my life. I say stop, Mas'r Harry—what are you a-going to do?"

"Do! Why, go in and explore the place, to be sure, Tom," I cried, beginning to climb the rocky barrier that barred the way into the cavern.

"No, I say, pray don't, Mas'r Harry!" cried Tom dolefully. "I ain't afraid in the light, when you can see what you are doing, but I can't stand the dark, nohow. Don't go, Mas'r Harry. Think of what your poor mother would say."

"Hold your tongue, will you, you great calf!" I exclaimed angrily.

For an intense desire seemed to come over me to explore this dim, shadowy region. For what might we not find there treasured? It might be the ante-chamber to some rich, forgotten mine—one of the natural storehouses from which the old Peruvians had been used to extract their vast treasures. There were riches inexhaustible in the bowels of the earth, I knew, and if this were one of the gates by which they could be reached, held back from causes induced by cowardice I would not be—I had too great a prize to win.

But before I had crossed this natural barrier to the entrance, reason told me that I must have light, and provision, and strength for the undertaking; and at that time I had neither. There was nothing for it then but to listen to the voice of reason, as personified by Tom; and with a sigh I climbed back just as he was going to join me.

I saw plainly enough that it must be nightfall before we could reach home; and, getting free of the rocks, I was musing, and wondering whether, after all, I had hit upon a discovery, when Tom whispered to me, with averted head, to look to the right under the trees.

I did so, and became aware of a shadowy figure slinking off amongst the bushes, but I took little heed of it then, trudging on as fast as the nature of the ground would allow; and at last, thoroughly worn out in body, but with my imagination heated, I reached the hacienda.

That evening, when I was alone with my uncle, I mentioned my discovery, and asked him if ever the cavern had been explored.

"Never that I am aware of, Harry," he said quietly; "and I don't think it would profit much the explorer. I have heard of the cave; it is a sort of sanctified place amongst the Indians, who people it with ghosts and goblins, such as they know how to invent. Let me see, what do they call the place in their barbarous tongue? Ah! I remember now— Tehutlan. I had forgotten its very existence. One of the old Peruvian gods used to live there in olden times, I believe, as a sort of dragon to watch over the hidden treasures of the earth. You had better search there and bring some of them out, or catch the dragon himself; he would make your fortune as an exhibitor in New York."