Then I noticed that the high water-mark--the highest point reached by the river in the rainy season--was not within four feet of the top of the opening. That settled it. The tunnel must be large enough to permit the whole volume of the river in the wet season to pass without backing up, and it was now the height of the dry season. Moreover, hadn’t I seen myself floating safely on the lake at the farther end of the tunnel? I cast all doubts and fears aside, overhauled the raft, added lashings, strengthened it, and having lit two torches, we embarked, cast the raft free and were swept into the black hole. It was a strange weird scene with our torches casting a ruddy glare upon the swirling waters and the damp rocky walls. But within five minutes the walls vanished. No sign of rock could be seen to right, left or overhead, and I laughed aloud at my misgivings. Instead of becoming lower, the tunnel had opened into a vast cavern--vast indeed as I knew from the echo of my laughter. And it was not long. We seemed hardly to have entered the place--the arch was still outlined against the sunshine behind--when ahead we saw the glimmer of light. It increased rapidly in size, and more quickly than it takes to tell it, we swept out from the cavern and rocked gently upon the surface of a good-sized lake. As if I had known the place all my life, I turned instinctively and peered at a rocky islet a few hundred feet distant. Though I had expected it, yet, when I saw the familiar symbol cut into the rock, I uttered a surprised ejaculation, and a peculiar sensation--as I imagine one might feel who sees or _thinks_ he see a ghost--caused a tingling of my spine. But Itza’s eyes were sharper, quicker than mine. “Look, look, Itzimin mine!” she cried excitedly. “Houses! People!” I shaded my eyes and stared incredulously. But there was no doubt of it. Less than half a mile distant a village stood at the edge of the lake, and people were moving back and forth upon the beach. That they would be Indians was certain. But would they prove hostile or friendly? However, there was nothing we could do. The natives had already seen us and several canoes were coming swiftly towards us. As they drew near, I was relieved to see that they wore hats, that they were dressed in coarse native cotton shirts and--yes, there was no doubt about it--one fellow had on a pair of pants!