It was dusk when the six horsemen, descending the still tortuous path, reached the bottom of the mountain-guarded valley. They had been challenged by a small band of Indians when they first entered the narrow pass between the mountains two hours before. Now again three dark-skinned sentinels suddenly barred their way with a gruff command which the white men did not understand. Casimiro responded, giving what was probably a countersign. The shadows were so dark that the three guardsmen of the pass did not recognize their chief until he spoke. When they heard his voice they made obeisance to him, and he conversed with them for a few moments. The party moved on presently and came at once upon a scene quite different from the wild and barren chaos of the mountain-side. It was a bit of nature’s most peaceful loveliness thrown down in the midst of her most majestic confusion; it was an emerald in a setting of jet, an oasis of beauty in a desert of shapeless grandeur. There were nodding flowers, waving grass, and a grove of stately trees. The twilight softened the grim shapes of the surrounding heights. Nature’s face had changed suddenly from frowns to smiles and the transformation was bewildering. The visitors were puzzled and delighted. They had seen no sign of verdure from the pass above, when Casimiro pointed out what seemed to be but a tiny patch of white sand. It was not a wide expanse, this spot of fertility in a sterile wilderness, but it afforded pasturage for quite a large herd of horses and among the trees beyond was a village of huts. A number of natives caught sight of the party and came to meet them. They received the chiefs, Casimiro especially, with many signs of respect and pleasure. The white men they regarded with curious interest. Dismounting at the edge of a small forest, the newcomers were conducted to the center of the village, where a fire burned in front of a group of larger huts. Food was prepared and they were soon satisfying an appetite so vigorous that even in Brent’s case it was not disturbed by any suspicion of the viands provided. After the meal, Casimiro explained that the golden sands lay just beyond the forest, a few minutes’ walk from the village. Little could be gained by a visit that night, for the darkness in the valley was by that time intense. Great as was the eagerness of Brent and Fraser to see the treasure which had tempted them into this far-away wilderness, they wisely restrained their impatience. They were well content, after the excitement of the afternoon’s wonders had worn off, to indulge the heavy fatigue which followed by early retirement to the large hut and beds of skins and leaves which were assigned to them.