again, as the best of expeditions
must in time, we three made a discovery.

The main encampment was on a spit of land running out into the main
stream, or what we thought was the main stream. It had the same muddy
color we had been seeing for weeks past, the same taste.

I happened to speak of that river to our last guide, a rather superior
fellow with quick, bright eyes.

He told me that there was another river--"over there, short river, sweet
water, red and blue."

I was interested in this and anxious to see if I had understood, so I
showed him a red and blue pencil I carried, and asked again.

Yes, he pointed to the river, and then to the southwestward.
"River--good water--red and blue."

Terry was close by and interested in the fellow's pointing.

"What does he say, Van?"

I told him.

Terry blazed up at once.

"Ask him how far it is."

The man indicated a short journey; I judged about two hours, maybe
three.

"Let's go," urged Terry. "Just us three. Maybe we can really find
something. May be cinnabar in it."

"May be indigo," Jeff suggested, with his lazy smile.

It was early yet; we had just breakfasted; and leaving word that we'd
be back before night, we got away quietly, not wishing to be thought
too gullible if we failed, and secretly hoping to have some nice little
discovery all to ourselves.

It was a long two hours, nearer three. I fancy the savage could have
done it alone much quicker. There was a desperate tangle of wood and
water and a swampy patch we never should have found our way across
alone. But there was one, and I could see Terry, with compass and
notebook, marking directions and trying to place landmarks.

We came after a while to a sort of marshy lake, very big, so that the
circling forest looked quite low and dim across it. Our guide told us
that boats could go from there to our camp--but "long way--all day."

This water was somewhat clearer than that we had left, but we could not
judge well from the margin. We skirted it for another half hour or so,
the ground growing firmer as we advanced, and presently we turned the
corner of a wooded promontory and saw a quite different country--a
sudden view of mountains, steep and bare.

"One of those long easterly spurs," Terry said appraisingly. "May be
hundreds of miles from the range. They crop out like that."

Suddenly we left the lake and struck directly toward the cliffs. We
heard running water before we reached it, and the