to get a message through to Lima. And now, if you please, I will
go to sleep."

He spread a rug on the earth floor, covered me with another, and in a
few minutes I was fast asleep, forgetful even of the dismal tunnel and
its horrible associations.

CHAPTER V.

IN THE HIDDEN VALLEY.

Perhaps my Indian host overstated the case, but he could not have been
far wrong in saying that no stranger had ever succeeded in finding the
Hidden Valley.

Let me describe the coast of Peru, and then you may be able to form
some idea of the district between the Spanish fortress and my new home.
The coast is a sandy desert studded with hills, and having in the
background stupendous ranges of towering mountains. From north to
south the desert is cut at intervals by streams, which in the rainy
season are converted into roaring rivers. Little villages dot the
banks of these streams, and here and there are patches of cultivated
land.

From one river to another the country is for the most part a dreary
desert of sand, where rain never falls nor vegetation grows--a dead
land, where the song of a bird is a thing unknown. Sometimes after a
sandstorm a cluster of dry bones may be seen--the sole remains of lost
travellers and their animals. At times even the most experienced
guides lose the track, and then they are seen no more. Over such a
desert I had ridden from the fort, and the Indians assured me that,
even in broad daylight, I could not go back safely without a guide.

As for the valley itself, it was comparatively nothing but a slit in
the mass of mountains. A river ran through it, and the water was used
by the Indians to irrigate the surrounding land. Their live stock
consisted chiefly of oxen and horses, and the principal vegetables
cultivated were maize and coca. You may not know that this coca is a
plant something like the vine, and it grows to a height of six or eight
feet. The leaves are very carefully gathered one by one. They are
bitter to the taste, however, and as a rule strangers do not take
kindly to coca. The Indian is never without it. It is the first thing
he puts into his mouth in the morning, and the last thing that he takes
out at night. He carries a supply in a leathern pouch hung round his
neck, and with this and a handful of roasted maize he will go a long
day's journey. I had never chewed coca before, but soon got into the
habit of doing so, much to the delight of my new friends.

My stay