When the rhea was quiet he relaxed his grasp. Instantly it again became charged with life. It gave a powerful wrench and the thick neck slipped from his aching fingers. But instead of renewing the attack, the bird seemed to have but one thought, but one desire, and that was to leave the locality as quickly as possible. It turned and fled in a series of long strides, its head held high, wings stretched out like sails, and feet that moved so rapidly the eye could not follow them in their prodigious leaps. The supposed horsemen had come nearer all the while and David now saw that they were a flock of the ostriches, which his attacker joined, when the entire company turned and soon disappeared in the distance. David went to the spot where he had first sighted the bird. To his delight he found a mound of huge eggs. They were of an oval shape, creamy white color, glossy, and so large he could not span one with his fingers. There were twenty of them, neatly arranged in a slight hollow scooped in the ground. He could not take them with him, of course, on account of their great weight and size, but thinking that he might have need of them at some time in the near future he tore a strip of cloth from his trousers--rent by the bird’s sharp claws during the struggle--and tied it to the highest reed near the nest, to serve as a marker for the spot. Another half hour’s walk under the broiling sun and the end of the trail was in sight. There it was at last, but it looked nothing like the ranch-house David had pictured. Instead of the long, low, rambling building he had expected to find, with its corrals, and groups of saddled horses standing dejectedly under the shade trees, there was a ramshackle structure built of bamboo poles and covered with a thatched roof. A dozen or so smaller huts were scattered about the immediate vicinity. Here and there grew a cluster of tall, graceful palm trees; that was why the place was called Las Palmas. The surrounding country did not appear very inviting. It looked forsaken and, under the hot sun, almost desolate. David drew a deep breath and kept on his way. Perhaps the new life he had chosen was not going to be so interesting as he had imagined; but he would keep on just the same. This was no time for regrets. He must stick by his determination to see the thing through. As he approached the largest house a lone dog darted out from some place of concealment, growling and bristling; he called to it in a friendly manner, but it bared its teeth and slunk away. A man, obviously a native, came to the doorway of the nearest hut and stared at the stranger in open astonishment. David started toward him; the man gave him a malicious look and faded from view in the darkened interior of the hut. “Not a very inviting atmosphere around the place,” thought David. “But I’ll walk right into the big house as if I owned it and see what happens.”