COMAGRE. Give us revenge—Smite! Kill! Destroy the accursed foe! On with your devastating thunder, those iron mouths that wing their viewless death from far, that dauntless heart, that powerful arm. Come on Brother; come, Revenge. Revenge! Revenge! (_Dragging_ DRAKE _along_, _exeunt_). _Scene changes_. SCENE IX.—THE FOREST. _Ascent of Panama_. _The party scattered about_. _Enter_ DRAKE _and_ CHIRUCA. DRAKE. We have heard of wonderful treasure among your people, which has escaped the rapacity of the Spaniards. CHIRUCA. There are whole provinces, where they have never set a foot, and where every mountain stream runs gold. It may be gathered in nets and baskets. The greatest collection of such riches was in the temple of the Goddess Dobeba. Vasco Nunez projected its plunder. DRAKE. The name of the Deity, and her temple is new to me. CHIRUCA. It is known and sacred, through all the Indian races. Our traditions tell us of the beginning of things, and a mighty female—the mother of the God that made the sun and moon, and the good things of the earth. She has the controul of the elements, and directs the thunder and lightning. A temple of gold, with the rarest gems and woods, was erected to her. Here pilgrims flocked from far and near, bearing rich offerings. Caciques of the most distant territories paid annually costly tribute to her worship. The temple was filled with treasure, walls and gates were gems and gold. The whole land abounds with these as plentifully as iron with you. The great Caciques furnish their tables, nay cook their viands, in vessels constructed of gold and silver, behold that great cattle trough at the fountain—It is of silver. DRAKE (_eagerly interrupting_). But the golden temple and its treasures, I hope the villains did not get them? CHIRUCA. No, friend Drake. The goddess took care of that—Zemaco, Lord of Darien, got wind of their purpose. Repairing thither with the Cacique of Dobeba, he despoiled the temple, and carried off the wealth of the Province. Our enemies ere they reached the spot, found a land of desolation. Led into a region of swamp and morass, with a deserted village, he looked round and was without a guide. Still he picked up some thousand ounces of gold, which the flying inhabitants had left. Despatching it down the river in two canoes he began his retreat. Before him yawned the morass, or spread the wilderness. Comagre had joined Zemaco, and hovered round with thousands of Indian warriors. His march was through showers of poisoned arrows, through starvation and pestilence: for the goddess had blasted the soil! When the remnant of his wretched band arrived at the coast, it was to behold his brigantines wrecked, his canoes with their precious freights swallowed up in the raging sea. The goddess moved the elements and stirred the briny deep to avenge her on her foes.