Produced by Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. RAINBOW'S END By REX BEACH Author of "THE AUCTION BLOCK" "THE SPOILERS" "THE IRON TRAIL" Etc. Illustrated CONTENTS I. THE VALLEY OF DELIGHT II. SPANISH GOLD III. "THE O'REILLY" IV. RETRIBUTION V. A CRY FROM THE WILDERNESS VI. THE QUEST BEGINS VII. THE MAN WHO WOULD KNOW LIFE VIII. THE SPANISH DOUBLOON IX. MARAUDERS X. O'REILLY TALKS HOG LATIN XI. THE HAND OF THE CAPTAIN-GENERAL XII. WHEN THE WORLD RAN BACKWARD XIII. CAPITULATION XIV. A WOMAN WITH A MISSION XV. FILIBUSTERS XVI. THE CITY AMONG THE LEAVES XVII. THE CITY OF BEGGARS XVIII. SPEAKING OF FOOD XIX. THAT SICK MAN FROM SAN ANTONIO XX. EL DEMONIO'S CHILD XXI. TREASURE XXII. THE TROCHA XXIII. INTO THE CITY OF DEATH XXIV. ROSA XXV. THE HAUNTED GARDEN XXVI. HOW COBO STOOD ON HIS HEAD XXVII. MORIN, THE FISHERMAN XXVIII. THREE TRAVELERS COME HOME XXIX. WHAT HAPPENED AT SUNDOWN XXX. THE OWL AND THE PUSSY-CAT I THE VALLEY OF DELIGHT In all probability your first view of the valley of the Yumuri will be from the Hermitage of Montserrate, for it is there that the cocheros drive you. Up the winding road they take you, with the bay at your back and the gorge at your right, to the crest of a narrow ridge where the chapel stands. Once there, you overlook the fairest sight in all Christendom--"the loveliest valley in the world," as Humboldt called it--for the Yumuri nestles right at your feet, a vale of pure delight, a glimpse of Paradise that bewilders the eye and fills the soul with ecstasy. It is larger than it seems at first sight; through it meanders the river, coiling and uncoiling, hidden here and there by jungle growths, and seeking final outlet through a cleft in the wall not unlike a crack in the side of a painted bowl. The place seems to have been fashioned as a dwelling for dryads and hamadryads, for nixies and pixies, and all the fabled spirits of forest and stream. Fairy hands tinted its steep slopes and carpeted its level floor with the richest of green brocades. Nowhere is there a clash of color; nowhere does a naked hillside or monstrous jut of rock obtrude to mar its placid beauty; nowhere can you see a crude, disfiguring mark of man's handiwork--there are only fields, and bowers, with an occasional thatched roof faded gray by the sun.