sight late in the afternoon, a blue blur on the horizon. To Dick's fevered imagination, they seemed like threatening shadows on the face of the waters, ghostly guardians of the Temple of Death.
Orellana refused to go any nearer that night, hauled down the sail, and threw overboard a heavy stone to anchor his boat Then he handed Dick a fishing-rod. At his astonished look, the madman replied:
"People come to the islands to fish, because these waters are blessed by the gods and the catches are better than anywhere else. Can't you do what everybody else does?"
He pointed across the waters to little lights flaring up at the bows of other pirogues, in which sat motionless fishermen.
"All those Indians are fishing," he said. "You may as well join them. If you can't, go to sleep, and don't worry us. You'll see something worth while when you wake up."
Orellana woke Dick just before dawn. The last stars were paling in the heavens at the approach of their King. The deep waters of the lake showed uniformly gray, not a light and not a shadow upon them. Not a sound to break stillness, not a breath of wind in the air. Suddenly, in the Orient, the mountain peaks were touched with fire, a giant furnace sprang into
