It was always Ned's feeling when in Mexico that he was in an old, old
land, not ancient like England or France, but ancient as Egypt and
Babylon are ancient.

He had calculated his course very carefully, and he knew that it would
lead through this desert, volcanic region, but on the whole he was not
sorry. Mexicans would be scarce in such a place. He remained a lad of
stout heart, confident that he would succeed.

He ate sparingly and reckoned that with self-denial he had food enough
to last three days. He might obtain more on the road by some happy
chance or other. Then becoming impatient he started again, keeping well
among cypress and cactus, and laying his course toward the small
mountain that he saw ahead. He pressed forward the remainder of the
afternoon, coming once or twice near to the great road that led to Vera
Cruz. On one occasion he saw a small body of soldiers, deep in dust,
marching toward the port. All except the officers were peons and they
did not seem to Ned to show much martial ardor. But the officers on
horseback sternly bade them hasten. Ned, as usual, had much sympathy for
the poor peasants, but none for the officers who drove them on.

About sunset he came to a little river, the Teotihuacan he learned
afterward, and he still saw before him the low mountain, the name of
which was Cerro Gordo. But his attention was drawn from the mountain by
two elevations rising almost at the bank of the river. They were
pyramidal in shape and truncated, and the larger, which Ned surmised to
be anywhere from 500 to 1000 feet square, seemed to rise to a height of
two or three hundred feet. The other was about two-thirds the size of
the larger, both in area and height.

Although there was much vegetation clinging about them Ned knew that
these were pyramids erected by the hand of man. The feeling that this
was a land old like Egypt came back to him most powerfully in the
presence of these ancient monuments, which were in fact the Pyramid of
the Sun and the Pyramid of the Moon. There they stood, desolate and of
untold age. The setting sun poured an intense red light upon them,
until they stood out vivid and enlarged.

So far as Ned knew, no other human being was anywhere near. The
loneliness in the presence of those tremendous ruins was overpowering.
He longed for human companionship. A peon, despite the danger otherwise,
would have been welcome. The whole land took on fantastic aspects. It
was not normal and