Farrabee completed his studies--a period of more than two years, his home and my home have been illuminated from top to bottom with Nohulite lamps. Each contains less than one-tenth of a gram of Nohulite, and each produces light of practically one hundred candlepower. And yet, so far, no diminution can be detected either in amount of light or the quantity of Nohulite. Finally there is the strange, ever-rotating green sphere that so puzzled me in Nohul Voh’s room. But no scientist has yet been able to formulate a more satisfactory or more reasonable theory to explain it than that which I decided upon myself. There is one more paragraph I must add. I have hesitated hitherto to write this story of Mictolan. I realized that to do so would be to attract the attention of promoters, speculators, exploiters. And I realized that even if I had closed the entrance to the Cave of the Bats, even if the Bridge of Light never again spanned the chasm, even if I refused to divulge the exact location of the valley, it would be found as soon as the world learned of the riches of the place. An airplane could locate it easily; no matter how inaccessible it might be overland, airplanes could land in the valley. And for the same reason I had pledged my scientific friends to absolute secrecy regarding the origin of the priceless Nohulite. But now all is changed. Mictolan, I feel sure, has forever vanished from the face of the world. Soon after the terrific and disastrous earthquakes that shook Guatemala four months ago, a government airplane, carrying relief to one of the stricken cities, reported passing over an immense lake filling what was apparently the crater of an enormous extinct volcano. The lake, so the observer reported, showed indications of having recently been formed. Dead and uprooted trees still floated upon its surface and, projecting a few feet above the surface of the water were the summits of two ancient Mayan temples. In every detail the description and the location of the lake coincide with Mictolan, and I am absolutely convinced that Mictolan, with all its people, was completely destroyed, completely submerged by the great cataclysm of nature. THE END. Transcriber’s Note: This etext was transcribed from Amazing Stories Quarterly, Fall 1929 (vol. 2, no. 4, pp. 436–505). Obvious errors in spelling, hyphenation and punctuation have been silently corrected in this version, but minor inconsistencies and archaic forms have been retained as printed. Some illustrations have been moved to fit the story. The title “INTRODUCTION” has been added.