hought of these things; it was so curious
that all this should be heaped upon him at once, so inartistic and yet
so like life, in which the great events are frequently crowded together
without sense of distance or proportion.

But even as he laughed, he remembered that this was no joking matter for
anybody concerned, unless it were Juanna. Alas! already she was more to
him than any treasure, and, as he thought, less attainable. Well, there
it was, he accepted it as it stood. She had entered into his life,
whether for good or for evil remained to be seen. He had no desire to
repeat the experiment of his youth--to wear out his heart and exhaust
himself in efforts to attain happiness, which might after all turn to
wormwood on his lips. This time things should take their chance. The
business of life remained to him, and he would follow it, for that is
the mission of man. Its happiness must look to itself, for that is the
gift of Heaven, after which it is useless to seek and to strive.

Meantime he could find time to pity Francisco, the priest with so noble
a heart.

CHAPTER XVIII

SOA SHOWS HER TEETH

Three months had passed since that day, when Juanna declared her
unalterable determination to accompany Leonard upon his search for the
treasures of the People of the Mist.

It was evening, and a party of travellers were encamped on the side of
a river that ran through a great and desolate plain. They were a small
party, three white people, namely, Leonard, Francisco, and Juanna,
fifteen of the Settlement men under the leadership of Peter--that same
headman who had been rescued from the slave camp--the dwarf, Otter, and
Juanna's old nurse, Soa.

For twelve weeks they had travelled almost without intermission with Soa
for their guide, steering continually northward and westward. First they
followed the course of the river in canoes for ten days or more; then,
leaving the main stream, they paddled for three weeks up that of a
tributary called Mavuae, which ran for many miles along the foot of
a great range of mountains named Mang-anja. Here they made but slow
progress because of the frequent rapids, which necessitated the
porterage of the canoes over broken ground, and for considerable
distances. At length they came to a rapid which was so long and so
continuous that regretfully enough they were obliged to abandon the
canoes altogether and proceed on foot.

The dangers of their water journey had been many, but they