“There are feathers, too, all about here,” he called as he ran from one rookery to another. “There are but four of the quetzal left in the silver fir. Yermah cannot be permitted to give away any of them. All he can do is to present these feathers to the high-priestess.” Setos came back with a handful of brilliant green plumes, about three feet long showing rainbow tints in their metallic luster. There was also a portion of scarlet breast still dripping with blood, but that was all. “I find this luminous tree badly broken,” said Akaza. “Oghi must have attempted to jump over it. He has broken the whole top off, and split the bole down to the roots. Disappointment awaits Orondo because he planned to bring our visitors here and show them how this tree lights up its surroundings at night. It were best to find out whether the torch-fish has been injured.” Setos poked and raked among the pools and eddies of the pond, but reported the torch-fish uninjured. This member of the finny tribe does not use the torch for purposes of illumination. When mealtime comes, it lights up to attract smaller fish. They, mistaking the lantern for a phosphorescent insect, dart at it only to find their way into a pair of capacious jaws. The evidence was wholly circumstantial; but, it was decided to make an example of Oghi, so the ocelot was led up the main thoroughfare hobbling on three legs. As a matter of fact, Oghi had spent the entire morning chasing his own shadow, going into a veritable spasm of excitement when he saw his image reflected in the water. It took him long to decide that it was not some other animal when the image moved. Oghi tired himself out trying to discover the reason why the reflection undulated and rippled, when he, himself, was motionless. He flounced in and out of the pond so often, that he could not possibly have caught a fish. They were securely hidden through it all, and a huge rat did the damage found in the aviary. Poor Oghi! His greatest fault was an abiding dislike to Setos, and his antipathies seemed to center around that one idea. This was why he snarled and snapped every time he came near the sun-dial. By some process of reasoning, the ocelot decided that the sun-dial was modeled after Setos. These repeated plunges disturbed the glass-bottomed wooden box, used to produce a beautiful optical illusion in the salt water. The box was without cover, and so placed that the glass bottom was slightly below the surface. This arrangement enabled the observer to look steadily downward to the sea-floor itself. The first impression was that the glass possessed magical powers. Not a tree, nor a flower actually on the land above, but was here reflected in colors and forms of airiest grace.