and, placing a roll of the coca leaves beneath his tongue,
started on the ascent.

The dawn was just appearing in a flush of pink when he reached the
top. A reconnaissance of the rocks around the hut and at the entrance
to the crevice convinced him that no guards had been left here.
Evidently the Priest had not thought their capture of supreme
importance. It was more an act of precaution than anything else.

He felt more refreshed at the top of the peak than he had at the
bottom and, wondering at this, it suddenly occurred to him that this
was the effect of the coca leaves. He had heard in Bogova that the
natives under its influence were able to endure incredible hardships
without other nourishment of any kind. He took a larger mouthful. At
any rate, they acted as balm upon his tongue and macerated lips. He
felt no inclination to rest. Even had he felt fatigue, his anxiety
over Wilson would have forbidden further delay.

He fastened one end of his rope securely about a point of rock and
then sat down to study the map once more. He realized that he would
need the help of every detail of these directions. Already he had
committed them to memory,--he was calmer than Wilson about it and so
had remembered them better,--but he went over them once more. There
was more than treasure at stake this time.

He lowered himself into the crevice which had swallowed up his
companion, with almost a sense of relief at being for the moment
beyond the power of the Priest. He was tempted to cut the rope behind
him, but a brief examination convinced him that this would be
foolhardy. He still had sufficient left for an emergency--in case the
rope was drawn up from above. Two men should stand a better chance of
getting out of here than would a single man.

At the end of the first ten feet along the narrow path Stubbs felt
much less confident than at the start that Wilson was alive. And he
worked his way along the dangerous course with increasing fear. It
was with a gasp of relief that he finally saw the opening ahead of him
which marked the end. He paused to shout. He received no reply. He
called his comrade's name again. The dark walls about him caught his
voice and imprisoned it.

Taking new risks, he pushed ahead. To the left he saw the cave mouth.
He stopped once more, half fearing what he should find, and ran the
remaining steps. At the entrance to the cave itself he stumbled over a
prostrate body.

CHAPTER XXIII

_The S