in contempt,
and fought for diversion when not engaged in war. To die in bed was
deemed dishonorable, and the only thing which somewhat disturbed the
serenity of the family of Endovellicus was that so famous a warrior, the
terror of neighboring clans, should have died with white hair, his life
flickering out like a wasted torch, after having galloped his steed
through so many combats, hurling his sword like a thunderbolt upon the
enemy.

Actaeon's dress and his countenance attracted the curious gaze of all the
tribe. Many of the Celtiberians had never seen a Greek, and they looked
upon this one with hostile eyes, recalling the clever tricks and sharp
dealings of the Hellenic merchants experienced by their brethren when
they went down to Saguntum to sell silver from the mines.

Alorcus reassured his people.

"He is my brother," he said, in the language of the country. "We have
dwelt together in Saguntum. Besides, he is not a native of that city. He
is from very far away, from a land where the men are almost gods, and he
has journeyed hither with me to become acquainted with you."

The women gazed at Actaeon in astonishment on hearing the almost divine
origin which Alorcus attributed to him.

The members of the caravan had dismounted, and entered the immense log
structure which had served the chief for a palace. A vast room blackened
by smoke, lighted only by narrow apertures like loopholes, served as a
place of reunion and council for the warriors of the tribe. At one end
was an enormous stone, upon which was burning a wood fire, while a great
opening in the roof did service as a chimney. Set in one wall was a
stone slab, with the figure of the divinity of the tribe strangling two
lions rudely sculptured upon it. Hung along the walls were lances and
shields, skins of wild beasts, bleached craniums and twisted horns of
large game. A stone bench ran along the sides of the room making way
near the fireplace for a high masonry seat covered by a bear skin. Here
the chieftain was accustomed to sit.

The warriors took their places on the bench as they entered.

One old man taking Alorcus by the hand, guided him to a place of honor.

"Sit here, son of Endovellicus. You are his only heir and you shall be
our chief. May his valor and his prudence dwell in you."

The other warriors assented to the elder's words with grave nods of
approval.

"Where is my father's body?" asked Alorcus, filled with emotion by the
simple c