was in the daytime, when some stray Rackbirds might come
back, or the pilferer of the mound might return with companions. But if
any such came, he had his little fort, two pistols, and a repeating
rifle. At night he felt absolutely safe. There was no danger that could
come by land or sea through the blackness of the night.

Suddenly he sat up. His forehead was moist with perspiration. A shiver
ran through him, not of cold, but of fear. Never in his life had he been
so thoroughly frightened; never before had he felt his hands and legs
tremble. Involuntarily he rose and stood up in the tent. He was
terrified, not by anything real, but by the thought of what might happen
if that lake cave should fill up with water, and if the ancient valves,
perhaps weakened by his moving them backward and forward, should give way
under the great pressure, and, for a second time, a torrent of water
should come pouring down the Rackbirds' ravine!

As the captain trembled with fear, it was not for himself, for he could
listen for the sound of the rushing waters, and could dash away to the
higher ground behind him; but it was for his treasure-bags, his fortune,
his future! His soul quaked. His first impulse was to rush out and carry
every bag to higher ground. But this idea was absurd. The night was too
dark, and the bags too heavy and too many. Then he thought of hurrying
away to the caves to see if the lake had risen high enough to be
dangerous. But what could he do if it had? In his excitement, he could
not stand still and do nothing. He took hold of one end of his trunk and
pulled it out of his tent, and, stumbling and floundering over the
inequalities of the ground, he at last got it to a place which he
supposed would be out of reach of a sudden flood, and the difficulties of
this little piece of work assured him of the utter futility of
attempting to move the bags in the darkness. He had a lantern, but that
would be of little service on such a night and for such a work.

He went back into his tent, and tried to prevail upon himself that he
ought to go to sleep--that it was ridiculous to beset himself with
imaginary dangers, and to suffer from them as much as if they had been
real ones. But such reasoning was vain, and he sat up or walked about
near his tent all night, listening and listening, and trying to think of
the best thing to do if he should hear a coming flood.

As soon as it was light, he hurried to the caves, and when he re