but I had never been to the top of this mountain, nor
had I ever seen this glen, which seemed to be an ancient trail. So I
went on down toward the clearing. As I approached it I crossed what
apparently was the bed of an ancient stream, dry now, but with many
pools of water from the recent rains, which are very heavy in that
region. _Bien_, I turned and followed this dry bed for a long
distance, and at last came out into the open. I found myself in a
circular space, surrounded by high hills, with no opening but the
stream bed along which I had come. At the far end of the basin-shaped
clearing the creek bed stopped abruptly; and I then knew that the
water had formerly come over the cliff above in a high waterfall, but
had flowed in a direction opposite to that of Popales creek, this
mountain being the divide.

"_Bueno_; now for my discovery! I several times filled my _batea_ with
gravel from the dry bed and washed it in one of the pools. I got only
a few scattered colors. But as I dug along the margin of the bed I
noticed what seemed to be pieces of adobe bricks. I went on up one
side of the bowl-shaped glen, and found many such pieces, and in some
places stones that had served as foundations for houses at one time.
So I knew that there had been a town there, long, long ago. But it
must have been an Indian village, for had it been known to the
Spaniards I surely would have learned of it from my parents. The
ground higher up was strewn with the broken bricks. I picked up many
of the pieces and examined them. Almost every one showed a color or
two of gold; but not enough to pay washing the clay from which they
had been made. But--and here is the end of my story--I have said that
this open space was shaped like a bowl, with all sides dipping sharply
to the center. It occurred to me that in the years--who knows how
many?--that have passed since this town was abandoned, the heavy rains
that had dissolved the mud bricks also must have washed the mud and
the gold it carried down into the center of this basin, where, with
great quantities of water sweeping over it every rainy season, the
clay and sand would gradually wash out, leaving the gold concentrated
in the center."

The old man stopped to light the thick cigar which he had rolled
during his recital.

"_Caramba!_ Padre, it was a lucky thought! I located the center of the
big bowl as nearly as possible, and began to dig. I washed some of the
dirt taken a foot or two bel