ised hands wound about his body, and he lay, a panting prisoner,
across his own threshold. A few others of the villagers were seized,
the rest of the roofs were fired, and the adventurers marched back to
the river. No spoil was taken.

[Illustration: The odds were hopelessly against him.]

The next morning the rank and file of the prisoners were set at
liberty. A present was given to each one, and it was impressed upon
them that the white strangers bore them no ill-will, and would not
again molest the village if its inhabitants conducted themselves with
due deference and friendliness. They had punished them for their
churlishness and disrespect, and had no thought of doing them further
mischief if they profited by the lesson given them. The men departed,
astonished at the clemency shown them.

During the day the major portion of the villagers came back from the
mountains and woods, and set stolidly to work repairing their homes.
One of the released prisoners ventured to come down to the white men
and beg permission to cut rushes for the rethatching of his dwelling.
He was quickly told that the river and its rushes were as free to him
as ever they had been; and some of the adventurers cut rushes
themselves, and told the fellow to let the people know that a supply
awaited them.

These wise measures went far to conciliate the natives. They had
learned that they must not oppose the strangers, but they also were
fairly assured that the white men were not the robbers and destroyers
that rumour had represented them to be. Some of them came freely
enough into the camp, bartering produce for gaudy trinkets; but, to the
intense disappointment of the company, none seemed to know anything
about the "Gilded One" or the marvellous city in which he dwelt.

The expedition moved on--rapids, rocks, gorges, and waterfalls impeding
the way. The heat was intense; and when at times long marches were
necessary, in order to avoid obstacles in the river, the labour of
tugging the boats was alike heartbreaking and limb-breaking. More than
once the wisdom of leaving the river and marching overland was
discussed. But the river was at least a sure path, according to all
reports. It led to Lake Parime and its golden sands and wondrous city.
The men grew feverish and unbalanced with anxiety and disappointed
hopes. Night after night they were to be found in groups, listening to
Yacamo or the Indians from the delta as they retold for t