The Argosy, Vol. XXV, No. 1 — page 39: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

A PERUVIAN PARADISE. 39 ‘I’m just as anxious to get away from here as you are,’’ declared Keeth. ‘But I’m not such a fool as to let these people see it.’’ ‘You manage to hide your anxiety well from them—and from us, too,”’ interposed Ford. ‘“ Hang it all, man! what can we do?”’ Secsaded Keeth, in disgust. ‘Take a liste around an’ see wot this bloomin’ valley looks like,’’ sug- gested Fitch. ‘‘There’s no use in sticking ’ere like toads hunder a toad- stool. You get the hold feller’s permission for us to tykea look around. We'll see if there’s only one way through them blessed clifts.’’ So Keeth, spurred on by his friends, made the request known to the high priest. It was granted without hesitation, and the old man said he would send somebody with them, which last was not exactly to their taste; but they were not in a position to file objections. The guide selected proved to be the young man, Gonnatzl, and this displeased the engineer still more. : But the three prisoners could find no fault about the way in which they were treated. The people gazed upon them curiously as they traveled from place to place, it is true, but they were unmolested. The valley was about eight miles long and not over three wide at its broadest point. And as for escape through or over the cliffs—well, Keeth made up his mind before they had made the circuit of the place that unless a man had wings like one of those condors whose nests topped some of the most inaccessible crags, or enough dynamite to wreck ia the mountain system of Peru, there was little chance of either. The river—or more properly brook, during this dry season—crossed the valley from west to east. It spouted out from beneath an overhanging ledge and was augmented by half a dozen little rills which trickled through the valley or fell down the cliffs. It slanted across the meadows, at one point forming a little lake in which hundreds of wild fowl sported, finally disap- pearing in a wide crack under the base of the eastern cliff. ‘This opening was scarcely five feet high, and showed by the slime which discolored the rock that during the rainfall the stream became no inconsiderable torrent. ‘‘ Where does the water go to, prince?’’ inquired Keeth of their guide. ‘To the under world—to the abode of gods and demons, oh, white man,’’ responded Gonnatzl harshly. ‘‘ We had a prisoner once—it was not so many moons ago—who sought to escape the children of the Incas by following the bed of yonder stream,’’ and he pointed solemnly to the mouth of the cavern. Keeth started, but recovered his self possession instantly. Could this be Jose Rodriguez—and had he escaped through that forbidding entrance to what the Indian called the ‘‘ under world’ ? ‘‘ And what happened to him, oh, prince?’’ asked the engineer. ‘“The gods sent a great rain and he never returned,’”’ replied Gonnatzl, simply. ‘‘ When the banks of the river are full the waters tear through the rock as swift as a condor when it swoops upon its prey.” 'Keeth made no further comment, but when he and his friends had re- turned to the neighborhood of the temple, and were alone, he told them what Gonnatzl had let fall about a former prisoner. (S@) Eomichook