At last Marciano held high his lantern and we saw towering before us a huge white cross. Instinctively we all paused reverently. Whatever one’s faith may be, it is impossible to come thus upon the symbol of a great and ancient church, standing in the midst of a vast and primeval wilderness, without a feeling of awe and reverence. There in the teeming ceaseless life of the wilderness was the mystery of creation: and there stood the white cross, a symbol of man’s attempt to solve the tremendous problem of creation and immortality. [Illustration: FIG. 94. A VISTA OF THE BIARA.] The light revealed a crude little church with an adjoining building standing behind the cross. To this other building the Indians led us. We knocked gently, then harder, then pounded. No response! Half a dozen dogs gathered and howled mournfully. At last finding a side door ajar, we entered a spacious room, part dining-room, part school-room, with a loom and a half-finished Indian hammock in one corner. We called and shouted, we pounded on the floor and walls, and at last from the distance—upstairs—came an answering roar. Down to us came the jolliest priest we ever hope to meet. Two strange men and women had invaded his castle at midnight, routing him out of well-earned rest, and yet his welcome was as warm as though we were expected friends. Our jovial host furnished us with lights, and gave us permission to sling our hammocks from the rafters of the great school-room. About one o’clock in the morning we rolled into our swinging couches completely tired out. But sleep was not to be had at once. An ominous gritting squeak was heard, then another, and our faces were softly fanned by invisible wings. “Vampires!” came the exclamation from the furthermost hammock. “Never mind them,” answered a sleepy voice from Mr. Wilshire’s hammock; “doctors say bleeding is healthful!” The scientist echoed his sentiments but in vain. We had to dive down into the clothing bags and pull out the hammock nets. Now these articles are somewhat difficult to adjust under the best of conditions and this night they were perversity itself. We found that in the packing at Hoorie, the nets had become mixed and two were of an unknown pattern, with apparently no entrance hole except at the ends. A hammock net is shaped like a buttoned up coat with the hammock running through the sleeve portions. It is an acrobatic feat not soon to be forgotten, when one is dead tired and in the dark, and has to enter his net by climbing up to the end of the hammock rope and sliding down through a small, long shute of netting! It was two in the morning before we were settled, and as we finally dropped asleep a score of fierce little demon faces were squeaking and gibbering at us.