And why, even at the eleventh hour, hadn’t I been satisfied with old Katchilcan’s information and interpretation, without plunging into this wilderness on my wild-goose chase for the mythical city of Mictolan? Why? I could find no answer save that it was fate, destiny, that I had come honestly into possession of the Book of Kukulcan and had therefore to bring the long-awaited token to the Mayas in the hidden city. But in that case, why had not some other done so long before? Surely others must have owned the codex honestly. The old shopkeeper in Vigo, for instance. I laughed heartily as I tried to picture paunchy old Don Miguel Salceda on this journey--crossing the deserts, crawling through the snake-infested tunnel, rolling down the ash-covered crater’s slope, running away from a charging dinosaur. And the dinosaur! Were there other, perhaps even more terrible prehistoric creatures in this land? I had had proof that pterodactyls and dinosaurs still survived there. Was it not possible there were others of their kinds, or even more ferocious living fossils? A Triceratops would be a most unpleasant “demon” to meet, an Iguanodon might be even worse. It behooved me to go carefully, to watch my step, to pass my nights where I would be safe from attack. And, thinking of passing the night, reminded me that the sun had set behind the peak, and that darkness was near at hand. To find a place in which to sleep would be simple--the rocks on either side of the valley were full of fissures and caves, but I was hungry and thirsty, and I could see no prospect of either water or food. Below me, to the right, the vegetation seemed greener, fresher. Possibly water was there and, meanwhile keeping a sharp watch for any possible game or even some edible berries or fruits, I hurried in the direction I had picked out. As I had hoped, a tiny stream trickled from among the rocks. A recess in a ledge formed a secure resting place, but I went supperless to bed and hunger prevented me from sleeping much that night. * * * * *