now the
hut is near the cone and overlooks the lake. Let's see----"

He reached for the map which he had fastened about his neck, but
Stubbs checked his hand.

"Easy, boy. Jus' as well not to let the shadders know we has maps.
I've gut my copy here hidden in the grass. S'posin' the hut is in the
center; this here docyment mentions two peaks--one 'kissed by the sun'
which I take it is the highest, and t' other where 'the trees climb
highest.' Now at sea we often lays our course inshore by jus' sech
marks. I figgers it out this way; these p'ints bein' startin' p'ints
from the hut mus' be somewhere nigh the hut. So if we finds the
tallest peak on the horizon an' then the peak on the cone where the
trees come up the farthest an' gits the two in line, we'll have a
straight course for the hut. Ain't thet so?"

"Sounds right."

"Maybe it is; maybe it ain't. Anyhow, it's wuth tryin'. Now I'm for
givin' the burros lots er rope an' lettin' 'em nibble here. Then we'll
hide our provisions in one place an' our ammunition in another and
start immedjiate. I 'spect there's a dozen of them niggers watchin'
us. We'll take a good look roun' fore we begin."

Both men beat the bushes for the radius of a hundred rods or more
without, however, bringing to light anything but a few birds. Then
Stubbs piled the provisions and blankets together with the picks and
shovels into a crevice between the rocks and covered them with dry
leaves and bits of sticks. He made another reconnoitre before hiding
the ammunition. This he finally buried in another crevice, covering
it so skillfully that not a leaf beneath which it lay looked as though
it had been disturbed. He piled a few stones in one place, notched a
tree in another, and left a bit of his handkerchief in a third spot,
to mark the cache. Then, shouldering their rifles, the two men began
the ascent.

Refreshed by their rest and the brisk morning air, they reached the
summit easily and once again Wilson gazed down upon the lake now
reflecting golden sunbeams until it looked as though it were of molten
gold itself. Even Stubbs was moved by its beauty.

"Sorter makes you feel like worshipin' suthin' yerself," he
exclaimed.

But he was the practical one of the two, or they would have got no
further. His eyes swept the surrounding circle of peaks until they
rested upon a majestic pile which so clearly overtopped its fellows as
to leave no doubt that this must be the one "kissed by the sun." T