At length the primitive craft was ready for its first and last voyage, as the bearer of a cargo far more precious than any pretentious treasure-ship ever carried. Brent finally made ready to depart, with a great deal of regret. He had found genuine pleasure, as well as many wonders, in this strange valley. The simple life of the inhabitants, their contempt for civilized wealth, the character of some of their leaders, all had a strong charm for him. His own thirst for gold had slackened. Its prodigal accumulation no longer aroused any emotion in him. The ambition for great riches had never been as strong in him as it is in many men, but he was himself surprised at his growing indifference to wealth. He assured himself that he would become again as other men, as soon as he should again be among his fellows. On the eve of the sailing of the raft, Fraser and Brent had a last talk. The friendship between the two men had grown into a deep and strong affection on both sides. The parting was a sincere sorrow to each. The hard-shelled old Scotchman was even a little superstitious about it. The eight months’ separation did not seem to threaten serious danger to either of them, but he was vaguely apprehensive. “Take good care of yourself, lad,” he said earnestly, “and remember, if anything happens to me, you are to see this thing through alone. I have Casimiro’ s promise to deliver the gold to you, if I should knock under.” Brent reassured the stanch old man with a promise to greet him safe and sound on the deck of their treasure-ship eight months later. They bade each other an affectionate farewell just as the raft shoved off into the current at daybreak next morning, and the last thing Brent saw as the raft swept around a turn in the stream was the sturdy figure of Fraser waving him good-by. Casimiro and three other Indians manned the treasure-raft. The chief assured Brent that the navigation would not be difficult, for although the current in places was very swift there were no rocks to encounter. The young man expected nothing more than a pleasure trip, and he gave himself up to admiration of the scenery of the marvelous valley as it disclosed itself from new points of view. There was much that was wonderful, but the outlook was not as imposing as from the mountain trail by which they had entered the strange wilderness. A part of the way high precipices shut out all but a narrow strip of sky above and deep shadows and solemn echoes made their swift passage along the black stream uncanny and fearsome.