erve force of men
and treasure had been hid; and yet here, obviously, was the end of the
trail. Of this we convinced ourselves by searching the cave exhaustively
for another outlet--even sounding the walls in the hope that we might
find a passage that had been artificially concealed. As Rayburn tersely
put it, we were no better than so many rats in a trap with terriers
waiting for us outside.

X.

THE SWINGING STATUE.

Four more days went by very wearily. Our wounds were healing--for we all
were in good condition as the result of our vigorous life in the open
air--but they still kept us in constant pain, and so tended to increase
our melancholy. Out in the valley, beyond the mouth of the canon, the
Indians maintained their watchful guard. Rayburn tried the experiment of
holding a hat and coat out on a pole, standing himself under cover of
the rock, and in an instant a pair of arrows went through the dummy; and
as one of these came from the right and the other from the left, it was
evident that in both directions the valley was picketed.

We were safe enough for the time being, of course. Even should the
Indians overcome their superstitious dread and enter the canon--which
was not probable, for they had not even ventured to remove their
dead--they could not possibly make a successful attack upon us in the
cave. Behind the breastwork that we had built in the narrow entrance,
and armed with our repeating rifles and revolvers, we were absolutely
secure.

"It's not a bad thing that we're safe," said Young, "an' that we've got
plenty of grub an' water, an' even lots of firewood; if we've got t' be
shut up here we might as well be comfortable. But what I want is a
through ticket for home. This treasure business has gone back on us th'
worst kind. That old Fray Francisco had his eye shut up by th' tall talk
of th' fellow who pretended to be converted; and th' Cacique just
promiscuously lied. That's about the size of it. An' for bein' fools
enough to swallow their stuff, here we are, as Rayburn says, like rats
in a cage."

There was so much probability in what Young said that I did not attempt
to argue with him; yet was I convinced that in what Fray Francisco had
written, and still more in what the dying Cacique had said to me, there
was a substantial element of truth.

Finding that nobody replied to him, for all of us were sore at heart and
so disposed to silence, Young turned to the statue of Chac-Mool and
pr