At one end of the burial mound he found an _olla_ full of corn left to nourish the departing spirit on its journey; and at the other a second _olla_ with only a watermark to show where the spirits had drunk; but the thing which impressed him most was a huge bulk against the cliff, an _olla_ nearly as high as a man. It too was blanketed in dust and its broad top was sealed, as if to protect some great treasure; but the treasures of the cliffdwellers could wait, what he wanted was their room, to shelter his lady from the mountain lions. He tied together a bundle of switches and began to sweep out the dust, dashing out from time to time to get air; and as he was brushing down the walls he discovered a blackened hole in the corner above the fire. This, too, was sealed with mud, but when he punched it clear the clouds of stinging dust went swirling up and out, leaving the chamber of the cliff-dwellers clear. So it had been long centuries before, when these dead had still lived and cooked their corn on the flat stones below; for the draft through the low doorway sucked up past the fireplace and went out at the smoke-vent above. Hall set to work again, clearing away the mound with its crumbling skeleton, its prayer-sticks and arrows and clubs; but when he came to the great _olla_ he found it sunk into the floor and as immovable as the cliff itself. He tried to pierce the seal, but it was another _olla_, set down over the greater one below; and finally, seizing a club, he smashed in the top, only to start back at the sound of a splash. So this was the treasure which the cliff-dwellers had concealed, and yet what treasure was greater? He leaned over the broad rim and tasted the water doubtfully--it was sweet as if it flowed from a spring! But certainly, if it had been stored for centuries and centuries, it would be flat and tainted by the pottery; he splashed it over the rim, wetting down the parched dirt floor, but the water in the basin did not lower. It was a spring walled up and cupped in the _ollas_, a dimpling fount for Allifair. Hall wet down the floor and swept it out again, letting it air until the room was sweet and clean; and then in mad haste he set to work to bring in wood and make down a bed of dry grass. He stored his provisions against the wall, and threw down the lion skin by the fire; and, closing the doorway, ran down to catch his horses, for the time for action had come. Here was their dwelling place at last, all set and waiting, lacking only the smile of Allifair to give it the glow of home; and as he spurred back over the trail, dragging the led-horse behind him, he envisioned her sitting by the fireplace. Though the night was dark and the trails sluiced out by rain, when the day dawned he was hidden in the hills where he could look down and watch for Allifair.