When it came to discussing terms, Monella declared that he had none to make, except that on no consideration whatever should any other white man be invited or allowed to join them. As to the rest, he simply suggested that any wealth they might acquire by their enterprise should be shared equally between them. "Suppose one of us were to die," observed Jack. "How then? Might not the survivors choose some one else to join them? Though," he added thoughtfully, "if it were _you_, we should not be likely to go on." "_I_ shall not die, my friend, until my task be finished," replied Monella with conviction. "You cannot say," was Jack's rejoinder. "No, I do not say I _know_, yet I can say I _feel_ it. No man dieth till he hath fulfilled the work in life allotted to him by God," Monella finished solemnly. The others already knew him, by this time, as a man with deep-seated religious convictions; though he made no parade of his beliefs. He seemed to have a simple, steady faith in an overruling Providence, and showed it, unostentatiously, in many ways, both in his actions, and in the advice he gave, on occasion, to the young men. In the result, the bargain--if it can be so termed--was concluded. Elwood and Templemore formally enrolled themselves under Monella's leadership, and henceforth performed the duties he assigned to them; amongst other things assisting almost daily in the formation of the path that was to take them through the forest. When not so engaged, they would go out with some of the Indians on hunting or fishing excursions in search of food. Monella had with him, amongst other things, a beautifully finished theodolite of wonderful accuracy and delicacy; with this he settled the direction of the road from day to day. Often, obstacles were encountered that made it impossible to go straight; these had to be worked round and the proper direction picked up again by means of Monella's calculations. Another circumstance worthy of note and that caused the two young men at first some surprise, was the fact that Monella had with him some mirrors specially prepared and fixed in strong cases for carrying about in rough travel, and intended for heliographic signalling. They frequently took these out and practised with them by sending messages to one another from the ridges of hills far apart. Monella tried also to instruct Matava and some of the Indians in the work, but without success. They were indeed afraid of the glasses, and looked upon it all as some kind of magic. "Wouldn't it be simpler to go up the bed of this stream that you seem to have been following more or less all the time, even if it be longer?" observed Jack one day. Monella shook his head. "No use, my friend. It divides into so many branches; and then again, in case of a rise of its waters, we should have all our road submerged at once." On Sundays they always rested. This, it appeared, had been Monella's custom all along.