which he knew his revelation
would produce, and then went on rapidly:

"Padre, the mine belonged to your grandfather. It produced untold
wealth. The gold taken from it was brought down the Guamoco trail to
Simiti, and from here shipped to Cartagena, where he lived in great
elegance. I make no doubt the gold which you and the little Carmen
discovered in the old church that day came from this same wonderful
mine. But the ore was quartz, and _arrastras_ were required to grind
it, and much skill was needed, too. He had men from old Spain, deeply
versed in such knowledge. Ah, the tales my poor father told of that
mine!

"_Bien_, the war broke out. The Guamoco region became depopulated, and
sank back into the jungle. The location of the mine had been recorded
in Cartagena; but, as you know, when Don Ignacio fled from this
country he destroyed the record. He did the same with the records in
Simiti, on that last flying trip here, when he hid the gold in the
altar of the old church. And then the jungle grew up around the mine
during those thirteen long years of warfare--the people who knew of it
died off--and the mine was lost, utterly lost!"

He stopped for breath. The little group sat enthralled before him. All
but Harris, who was vainly beseeching Reed to translate to him the
dramatic story.

"Padre," continued Rosendo at length, "from what my father had told me
I had a vague idea of the location of that mine. And many a weary day
I spent hunting for it! Then--then I found it! Ah, _Caramba_! I wept
aloud for joy! It was while I was on the Tigui, washing gold. I was
working near what we used to call _Pozo Cayman_, opposite La Colorado,
where the Frenchmen died. I camped on the lonely bank there, with only
the birds and the wondering animals to keep me company. One dark
night, as I lay on the ground, I had a dream. I believe in dreams,
Padre. I dreamt that the Virgin, all in white, came to me where I
lay--that she whispered to me and told me to rise quickly and drive
away the devil.

"I awoke suddenly. It was still dark, but a pair of fiery eyes were
gleaming at me from the bush. I seized my _machete_ and started after
them. It was a jaguar, Padre, and he fled up the hill from me. Why I
followed, I know not, unless I thought, still half asleep as I was,
that I was obeying the Virgin.

"At the top of the hill I lost the animal--and myself, as well. I am a
good woodsman, senores, and not easily lost. But this time my poor