If it were a voice of any sort there was nothing human about it.... Probably some sort of unknown bird.... Perhaps a bird of prey.... That was natural, considering the attraction that Georgiades would have for such creatures.... If it were a bird it must be a large one, he thought.... Because there was a certain volume to the cry.... Perhaps it was a beast, after all.... Some unknown beast of the forest.... Sanchez was suddenly afraid. Scarcely knowing what he was doing he began to run along the edge of the bog. First growth timber skirted it; running was unobstructed by underbrush. With his startled ears full of the alarming and unknown sound, he ran through the woods under gigantic pines which spread a soft green twilight around him. He was tired, or thought he was, but the alarming sounds were filling his ears now; the entire forest seemed full of them, echoing in all directions, coming in upon him from everywhere, so that he knew not in which direction to run. But he could not stop. Demoralised, he darted this way and that; terror winged his feet; the air vibrated above and around him with the dreadful, unearthly sounds. The next instant he fell headlong over a ledge, struck water, felt himself whirled around in the icy, rushing current, rolled over, tumbled through rapids, blinded, deafened, choked, swept helplessly in a vast green wall of water toward something that thundered in his brain an instant, then dashed it into roaring chaos. * * * * * Half a mile down the turbulent outlet of Star Pond,--where a great sheet of green water pours thirty feet into the tossing foam below,--and spinning, dipping, diving, bobbing up like a lost log after the drive, the body of Senor Sanchez danced all alone in the wilderness, spilling from soggy pockets diamonds, sapphires, rubies, emeralds, into crystal caves where only the shadows of slim trout stirred. * * * * * Very far away to the eastward Quintana stood listening, clutching Sard by one sleeve to silence him. Presently he said: "My frien', somebody is hunting with houn's in this fores'. "Maybe they are not hunting _us_.... _Maybe._... But, for me, I shall seek running water. Go you your own way! Houp! Vamose!" He turned westward; but he had taken scarcely a dozen strides when Sard came panting after him: "Don't leave me!" gasped the terrified diamond broker. "I don't know where to go----" Quintana faced him abruptly--with a terrifying smile and glimmer of white teeth--and shoved a pistol into the fold of fat beneath Sard's double chin. "You hear those dogs? Yes? Ver' well; I also. Run, now. I say to you run ver' damn quick. He! Houp! Allez vous en! Beat eet!" He struck Sard a stinging blow on his fleshy ear with the pistol barrel, and Sard gave a muffled shriek which was more like the squeak of a frightened animal.