eir proceedings."

Saying this, the officer raised his voice and shouted "Hola!" with all
the strength of his lungs.

The hail was not heeded: it was not heard.

"_Maldito_!" exclaimed he, "I must try some other means of drawing their
attention."

A method at once suggested itself; and stooping, the officer took up a
handful of small pebbles, and launched them down upon the two adorers of
the demon.

So far as drawing their attention went, the means proved efficacious;
for the instant that the pebbles fell upon the water, the Indian, with a
stroke of his hand, swept the fire from the rock, and the ravine became
instantaneously as dark as Erebus. The forms of the two
water-worshippers disappeared in the gloom; and Don Rafael found himself
alone in the presence of the foaming cataract.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

THE DIADEM.

Chagrined at the result, the traveller had no course left but to return
to the place where he had left his horse. He was now in a worse
predicament than ever; since it had become dark, and it would be
difficult not only to find a path, but to follow it when found. The
moon, however, had already risen, or rather had been all the while above
the horizon, but hidden by a thick band of cumulus clouds that hung over
the west. As the clouds did not cover the whole canopy, and it was
likely that the moon would soon be visible, the traveller saw that he
had no other resource than to wait: in hopes that by her light he might
extricate himself from the difficulty into which his mischances had
guided him.

On arriving where he had left his horse, Don Rafael sat down upon a
fallen tree; and, lighting a cigar, awaited the appearance of the moon.
He knew he should not have long to wait, for the yellow sheen, which
betokened the situation of the luminary of night, was at no great
distance from the edge of the cloud.

He had not been seated more than a few seconds, when a singular sound
fell upon his ear. It was not the rushing noise of the cascade--for to
that he had been accustomed for some time--but a sound that resembled
the scream of some wild animal, ending in a hoarse and fiercely intoned
roaring. He had heard it once or twice before; and although he could
tell that it was not the howl of the coyote, he knew not what sort of
creature was causing it.

Despite his ignorance of the cause, there was something in the sound
that denoted danger; and, instinctively influenced by this idea, the
young o