e strangely rounded hill on
the summit of which perched the altar-house, I glanced back curiously
over the plain outspread below. Little clusters of dark figures were
scattered here and there throughout the pleasant valley, many of them
congregated along the greener banks of the circling water-course,
others scattered more widely afield, yet all earnestly engaged in
cultivation of the ground. This quiet, pastoral scene was so foreign
to all my previous conception of Indian nature that for the moment I
paused amazed, gazing upon this picture of peaceful agriculture in the
heart of the wilderness. Surely, cruel, revengeful savages though they
were, yet here was a people retaining traditions of a higher life than
that of the wild chase and desert war. I could perceive no guards
stationed anywhere, yet felt no doubt that every entrance leading into
this hidden paradise, this rock-barricaded basin amid the hills, would
be amply protected by armed and vigilant warriors, confining us as
securely within its narrow limits as if a dozen savages followed our
every footfall. My silent guide, after one glance across his naked
shoulder, to assure himself that I followed, led straight forward up
the hill on a dog-trot, soon placing him far in advance. At the
entrance of the altar-house he paused, showing disinclination to enter.
In obedience to a gesture I passed within, leaving him standing there,
as if awaiting my return, a silent statue in light bronze, the glow of
the sunshine upon him.

Wondering what my mission might be, I remained a moment motionless
slightly within the entrance, my eyes almost totally blinded by the
sudden transition from the garish day to that dull interior. Slowly
the scene within resolved itself into clearer detail. I began to
perceive the crawling red flames licking with hungry tongues along the
sides of the huge log resting upon the altar block, and later
distinguished the black figure of a priest moving silently from point
to point amid the shadows, engaged upon the grewsome functions of his
office, his presence ever manifested by the dismal crooning with which
he worked his magic spells. Beyond these vague suggestions of
life--for they seemed scarcely more--it was like endeavoring to sound
the depths of a cavern, so black, still, and void was all within and
about. Yet, even as I stood thus, peering uneasily into the gloom, I
was thoroughly startled at the sudden booming forth of a voice,
appa