the idea of appropriating to their own
use the buried treasures never once being dreamed of; but, with the
wealth of princes scattered here and there throughout the country, the
Indians watched over the treasures still, and handed down the secret to
their children.

Some were discovered by stratagem, others by treachery, others, again,
by accident; and while the exact bearings of the places were mostly well
remembered, others died out of the memory of those to whose trust they
had been committed, or in some cases died with them. But to this day it
is believed that vast stores of the precious metal still lie waiting the
hand of the discoverer, the barbaric relics of a fierce and bloody
religion, the creed of an idolatrous people; and many an explorer
unrewarded has wasted his days amidst the traces of the ruined temples
and tokens of a grand civilisation, scattered here and there amidst the
forests and mountain fastnesses of the mighty Andes.

CHAPTER TWO.

AFTER THREE AGES.

Perhaps it was with reading _Robinson Crusoe_ and _Sindbad the Sailor_--
I don't know, but I always did have a hankering after going abroad.

Twopence was generally the extent of my supply of hard cash, so I used
to get dreaming about gold, and to think that I had only to be wrecked
upon some rocky shore to find the remains of a Spanish galleon freighted
with gold in doubloons, and bars, and ingots, a prize to which I could
lay claim, and be rich for ever after.

Now, with such ideas as these in my head, I ask anybody, was it likely
that I could take to soap-boiling?

That was my father's business, and he was very proud of his best and
second quality yellow, and his prime hard mottled. He had made a
comfortable living out of it, as his father and grandfather had before
him, helping to cleanse no end of people in their time; but I thought
then, as I think now, that it was a nasty unpleasant business, whose
odour is in my nostrils to the present day.

"You're no good, Harry," said my father, "not a bit, and unless you sink
that tin-pot pride of yours, and leave off wandering about and wearing
out your boots, and take off your coat and go to work, you'll never get
a living. You've always got your nose stuck in a book--such trash! Do
you ever see me over a book unless it's a daybook or ledger, eh?"

My father had no sooner done speaking than my mother shook her head at
me, and I went and stood out in the yard, leaning my back up agains