day. "There's no use
hanging around here, and some venison wouldn't go bad on the table."

"I'll come, too," said Mr. Damon. "I haven't anything to do."

The Titus brothers had gone to a distant village, on the forlorn hope
of getting laborers, so Tom was left to his own devices, and he decided
to go hunting with his electric rifle.

The taruco, or native deer, had been plentiful in the vicinity of the
tunnel until the presence of so many men and the frequent blasts had
driven them farther off, and it was not until after a tramp of several
miles that Tom saw one. Then, after stalking it a little way, he
managed to kill it with the electric rifle.

Koku hoisted the animal to his big shoulders, and, as this would
provide meat enough for some time, Tom started back for camp.

As he and Mr. Damon, with Koku in the rear, passed through a little
clearing, they saw, on the far side, a native hut. And from it rushed
a woman, who approached Tom, casting herself on her knees, while she
pressed his free hand to her head.

"Bless my scarf pin!" exclaimed Mr. Damon. "What does this mean, Tom?"

"Oh, this is the mother of the child I saved from the condor," said
Tom. "Every time she sees me she thanks me all over again. How is the
baby?" he asked in the Indian tongue, for he was a fair master of it by
now.

"The baby is well. Will the mighty hunter permit himself to enter my
miserable hovel and partake of some milk and cakes?"

"What do you say, Mr. Damon?" Tom asked. "She's clean and neat, and she
makes a drink of goat's milk that isn't bad. She bakes some kind of
meal cakes that are good, too. I'm hungry."

"All right, Tom, I'll do as you say."

A little later they were partaking of a rude, but none the less
welcome, lunch in the woman's hut, while the baby whose life Tom had
saved cooed in the rough log cradle.

"Say, Masni," asked Tom, addressing the woman by name, "don't you know
where we can get some men to work the tunnel?" Of course Tom spoke the
Indian language, and he had to adapt himself to the comprehension of
Masni.

"Men no work tunnel?" she inquired.

"No, they've all skipped out--vamoosed. Afraid of some spirit."

The woman looked around, as though in fear. Then she approached Tom
closely and whispered:

"No spirit in tunnel--bad man!"

"What!" cried Tom, almost jumping off his stool. "What do you mean,
Masni?"

"Me tell mighty hunter," she went on, lowering her voice still more.
"My man he