Turning, the scientist questioned the Ayuti concerning the ancient worship of the dead race. Ere the king could answer a startling cry broke from Seymour: “Great Scott! Sunshine!” A ray of light stabbed the darkness like a golden sword, striking full upon the monstrous eye of Ramouni, which flashed and scintillated with a dazzling lustre. “Sunshine!” echoed the others in a breath, and then, somewhere in the interior of the image, a bell began to toll. Astounded, the explorers stood gazing at the wonderful beam of light. “It comes through a passage in the dead fire-mountain,” Chenobi volunteered, “and lasts for but a few moments. See, it fades already.” Even as he spoke the tolling of the bell ceased, and the sunlight vanished as suddenly as it had come, leaving the twilight of the underworld the more gloomy for its brief visit. CHAPTER XXII. THE TERROR OF THE JUNGLE. “IS there, then, a way out of this underworld?” Seymour’s voice betrayed his agitation as he put this question to Chenobi. So much depended on the Ayuti’s answer that each of the adventurers held their breath to listen. “Yea,” came the reply, “there is a passage through the heart of the dead fire-mountain, by which my people entered this land, but it lies far away through the jungle.” Rapidly Seymour translated this intelligence to Wilson and the American. “I guess we’ll strike for this yer passage right now,” cried Haverly. “If it pans out all right we can come back and look for Garth; if it don’t, we’ll be no worse off than we are now. What do you say, professor?” “Why not find Garth first?” suggested the scientist cautiously. “Wal, it’s this way,” returned Silas; “I reckon it’ll hardly be safe to prospect for Hilton’s trail for a considerable period yet. We must give them niggers a chance to settle down some. I guess they’re too almighty riled at the present moment to be pleasant neighbours. Seein’ as how our rifles are useless, it ’ud be worse than madness to go pokin’ along the coast again; so I’d advise as we visit the Ayuti’s fire-mountain an’ give the wolfies a chance to forget us.” “That they’ll never do,” retorted Mervyn; “yet there is a good deal in what you say. If Nordhu discovers that we have escaped he will be mad with fury, and it may be well that we should be beyond his reach for a time.” “Then you’ll go?” questioned the baronet eagerly. “Silas has succeeded in convincing me that it will be for the best,” Mervyn answered smiling, “but we must leave the arranging of the matter to Chenobi.” The latter, who had been watching the faces of the speakers intently during this conversation, pricked up his ears at the mention of his own name. “We wish to seek this passage ye speak of,” Seymour told him, “if it be possible. Can you guide us thither?”