elf the dreadful scene that once had passed, down there
below us, where now was only the calm serenity of ancient death: the
great crowd collected to witness the sacrifice, and then the sudden
coming of the waters--possibly so quickly that the victim, held down by
the neck-yoke upon the sacrificial stone, was drowned ere there was time
to slay him. This great mound would be the last of all to be covered,
and the wretched people gathered there must have seen their city
disappear beneath the waters before death came to them. No doubt they
thought themselves safe in that high place, made sacred by the presence
of their gods. And when the water did reach them, what a writhing and
struggling there must have been for a little while; what a crushing of
the weak by the strong in mad efforts to gain even a moment's safety
upon some higher standing-place! And then, at last, the water rose
triumphant in its swelling majesty over all--and beneath its placid
surface were hid the silenced terrors of all that commotion of mortal
agony, whereof the outcome was the peaceful and eternal calm of death.

XII.

IN THE VALLEY OF DEATH.

As the raft approached the western shore of the lake we perceived
beneath us no longer houses, but large walled enclosures which plainly
had been gardens of pleasure--for gaunt trees, symmetrically planted in
groves and beside stone-paved path-ways, yet stood in them; and seats of
carved stone were placed in what once had been shaded nooks; and in many
of the gardens were carved stone fountains of elegant design. Between
the city and what once had been its charming suburb extended a broad
paved way, like that which we had found upon the eastern shore; and this
paved way was continued on the dry ground above the present level of the
lake towards the cliffs westward. On the high western shore were a few
houses, large and handsome, and having walled gardens around them,
which evidently had belonged to persons of great wealth and consequence.

In these we found shadowy remnants of a past magnificence. On many of
the walls were hangings, once rich and heavy, that now were mere films
of ghostly stuff held together by the many gold threads which had been
woven into their fabric. Pottery, wrought into beautiful shapes, yet
ornamented with designs that told of but half-redeemed barbarism, was
scattered about everywhere, and scarcely a piece was broken. Some very
handsome weapons we found also--swords and sp