At last we reached the entrance to the tunnel. I glanced back. Yes, the flames were rising above the Temple of the Sun, streaming straight upward in the still morning air. From where I had secreted them in a crevice of the rocks, I took my torches, my pack of provisions, and strapped them on my back. And then, to my amazement, Itza, with a merry laugh, rolled aside a rock and dragging out a second pack, adjusted it on her own lovely shoulders. In vain I protested. It was nothing, she declared. She hardly felt it. And we might need it. Why should her Itzimin carry all the burden? Was she not to eat her share of food? Why then should she not carry her share? Nohul Voh and Azcopil stood by her. It was useless to argue against three, and so, with a kiss and a caress, I gave in. A dozen paces more and before us was the black chasm spanned by the dazzling, iridescent, wondrous bridge of light. Fear, distrust, doubt filled me. I had crossed it before, yet try as I might I could not force myself to step from the firm hard stone onto that transparent, tenuous glow. But Itza had no such fears. Swiftly she embraced King Azcopil, she threw her arms about Nohul Voh and planted a farewell kiss upon his cheek, and with a merry laugh and a wave of her hand stepped confidently from the verge of the rock. My heart skipped a beat, I uttered an involuntary cry as she did so. It seemed impossible that she would not be dashed to death in the abyss. But no. She might have been treading solid metal. Lightly she ran forward, calling me to follow. With a last clasp of my hand I stammered farewells to my two friends, and with gritted teeth and summoning all my courage, I stepped onto the incredible bridge and hurried after Itza.