She threw the banana peel into the water and lazily watched the point where it had struck. “If anything comes up I hope it will be big,” Concordia murmured with equal laziness. And upon their astonished gaze, even as they looked, arose up out of the brown depths a great white hound. They jerked their poles up and behind them on the bank, threw their arms about each other, and watched the hound gain the shore at the lower end of the eddy, climb the sloping bank, pause to shake himself, and then disappear among the trees. Nicoya and Concordia giggled. “Try it again,” Concordia urged. “No; you this time. And see what you can bring up.” Quite unbelieving, Concordia tossed in a clod of earth. And almost immediately a helmeted head arose on the flood. Clutching each other very tightly, they watched the man under the helmet gain the shore where the hound had landed and disappear into the forest. Again the two Indian girls giggled; but this time, urge as they would, neither could raise the courage to throw anything into the water. Some time later, still giggling over the strange occurrences, they were espied by two young Indian men, who were hugging the bank as they paddled their canoe up against the stream. “What makes you laugh,” one of them greeted. “We have been seeing things,” Nicoya gurgled down to them. “Then have you been drinking pulque,” the young man charged. Both girls shook their heads, and Concordia said: “We don’t have to drink to see things. First, when Nicoya threw in a banana skin, we saw a dog come up out of the water——a white dog that was as big as a tiger of the mountains——” “And when Concordia threw in a clod,” the other girl took up the tale, “up came a man with a head of iron. It is magic. Concordia and I can work magic.” “José,” one of the Indians addressed his mate, “this merits a drink.” And each, in turn, while the other with his paddle held the canoe in place, took a swig from a square-face Holland gin bottle part full of pulque. “No,” said José, when the girls had begged him for a drink. “One drink of pulque and you might see more white dogs as big as tigers or more iron-headed men.” “All right,” Nicoya accepted the rebuff. “Then do you throw in your pulque bottle and see what you will see. We drew a dog and a man. Your prize may be the devil.” “I should like to see the devil,” said José, taking another drain at the bottle. “The pulque is a true fire of bravery. I should very much like to see the devil.” He passed the bottle to his companion with a gesture to finish it. “Now throw it into the water,” José commanded.