n, gave Jake a cigar of
home manufacture, lighted one himself, and, lying upon the ground in an
attitude of absolute repose, said laughingly:

"Now if you wish to hear the story I promised to tell there is nothing
to prevent."

"I would certainly like to know how it happens that you are living alone
in this forest," Jake replied.

"Then I will begin in regular story-book style, for when it is ended I
intend to make a proposition. My name is Byron Cummings, and the last
home I had previous to the building of this shanty, was in Baltimore,
Maryland. Two years ago--it may have been longer, for one does not keep
a very strict record of time in this country--I visited Merida on a
pleasure trip, and while there heard the story of the Silver City."

"Is that the name of a town, or do you mean that the precious metal is
so plentiful there?" Teddy interrupted.

"I refer to a city built by the Chan Santa Cruz Indians which has
received this name because the ornamentation of the houses is of silver,
and so profuse as to give it the appearance, at a distance, of being a
collection of silver buildings. Don't laugh until you hear the whole
story," he added, as a smile of incredulity passed over Jake's face.

"Any one in Merida, and, in fact the English histories, will tell you
that this wonderful city is in the vast tract of marshy land situated
between here and Merida, known as the Black Swamp. It is a fact that no
white man has ever seen it, since the only approach is across the swamp
on the south side, and the way so closely guarded that a person must
have special sources of information in order to get through the
labyrinth of narrow water courses on the banks of which are sentinels
ready to salute the visitor with a shower of poisoned arrows.

"It cannot be reached from the east because of the rocks, a few samples
of which you probably saw on the sea coast. As you doubtless know, the
Indians hereabout have never been conquered by the whites, and the
interior is as much an unknown land as it was at the time of the
conquest.

"Certain of the Chan Santa Cruz Indians visit Merida at certain seasons
of the year, where they sell, or rather, exchange for goods, gold dust
and massive golden ornaments, valuing the yellow treasure so lightly,
and bringing such quantities that there can be no doubt they have access
to an enormous deposit. Silver they use as we do iron, and I myself have
seen one of these visitors wearing thick beat