either march forward or die.

“The captain of the band was Sebastian de Arguello. He had with him some 200 soldiers and sailors, thirty conquistadores or gentleman adventurers of Spain who sought fortune in Peru, three priests, and a score of women.

“They were a thousand miles from the nearest Spanish settlements in northern Chile, but there was nothing to do if they would survive except attempt to reach them.

“So the march began, through the great forests of arbor vitae and along those rugged, barren coasts. In those days, there were giants in the land. For that is Patagonia, and it is not so many years ago that the last of the giant Patagonians of ancient days passed away. They were real giants, six and a half feet tall, terrible fighters in guerrila warfare. Day and night they attacked from ambush, and dread, indeed, must have been the times when the Spaniards were forced to abandon the seacoast and attempt to thread the forest, for always the giants would be lying in wait.

“At length, however, the little band won its way through Patagonia, with numbers reduced from the fighting, and seven of the women dead from the unendurable hardships of the march. Yet they had but conquered one danger to encounter a greater. They are now on the borders of Auraucania.

“You do not know what that means. Ah, my friends, even today Auraucania is a land that is little known. For it is inhabited by the fiercest and most warlike of all the Indian peoples. The Incas found them so, and were never able to conquer them. The Spaniards, even with cannon, could do nothing against them. It is only within the last forty or fifty years that any white men have been permitted to enter their country.

“Against the wild dash of Auraucanians, de Arguello’s men, doughty though they were, could make no headway. A counsel was held. Rather than face decimation in an attempt to cut their way through Auraucania, the members of the band decided to skirt that savage land. Eastward, therefore, they struck toward the vast and towering wall of the Andes, with some hope of skirting Auraucania, and, if not that, then to settle where game and water abounded.

“Suddenly one day they came into a valley glimmering with lakes, a broad valley ringed round by mountains, with fields that were irrigated and under cultivation, laborers working in them, but no farm-house in sight. These laborers fled to the forest in fright at the approach of the Spaniards, but one was taken captive and brought to de Arguello to be questioned.

“To the starved and harried Spaniards, the prospect was fair, indeed. What a place in which to settle. Therefore, when the laborer was brought before de Arguello and the conquistadores, he was plied with questions as to the ownership of this land. Despite the fact that he was a laborer, the man had a proud bearing that arrested de Arguello’s attention. ‘Art thou not of the Inca blood?’ he asked. Folding his arms, the man replied, ‘I am.’

“As to what then transpired, the account does not state. For you must remember it was written by men who were not leaders among the Spaniards, but men-at-arms. They were not in the counsel. At length, however, the laborer was seen to depart and to make his way across the valley and disappear into the mountains. Camp was pitched by a spring on the edge of the forest, and late in the afternoon the laborer returned.

“De Arguello then gave orders that his return should be awaited, which he declared would not be until the following day, and set out with one of the priests and the laborer. All that night, the Spanish force lay under arms, not knowing what to expect.

“But shortly after sunrise the next day de Arguello returned alone. He called his force about him, and addressed them. ‘Men,’ said he, in effect, ‘within those towering mountains beyond this valley lies an enchanted city. It is all built of palaces of stone with roofs that shine like gold. Within those palaces is furniture of gold and silver. They are a very pleasant people who dwell there, Incas who have fled thither from Peru.

“Their city is ringed round with terrible mountains, abounding in gold and precious stones, unscalable by an enemy. The only approach is through a tunnel they have cut through the flank of a mountain. From these broad fields they draw their sustenance.

“This is the message they bid me bring to you: ‘If it be peace, ye can mix and mingle with us. There be women ye can have to wife. If it be war, we trust in our fastnesses.’ Men, what shall it be?

“With one voice, they shouted, ‘Peace!’

“That,” concluded Ferdinand, “is the tale of the Enchanted City of the Caesars, so-called because the Emperors of Spain were the modern Caesars by reason of the vastness of their empire.”

“And hasn’t it ever been sought for?” asked Bob. “Surely, the Spaniards in their eagerness for treasure would not have overlooked such a story as that told by the two men.”

“You are right,” said Ferdinand, nodding, “it was sought for. Expedition after expedition was sent out by the Viceroys of the Spanish provinces clear down to the War of Independence in the early nineteenth century, which freed South America from the yoke of Spain. But it was never found, and, although there are people who still believe it existed, it is generally supposed nowadays to be merely mythical.”

“And is it in search of this ‘Enchanted City’ that we are going?” asked Frank.

“I don’t know,” answered Ferdinand. “But I believe the ‘Enchanted City’ figures in the manuscript which my father has obtained, and it may be that we go to look for it.”

CHAPTER III—A COUNTRY FESTIVAL

The day following this retelling of the legend of the Enchanted City of the Caesars by Ferdinand, all four boys were called into conference by the two older men. To their unbounded delight, they were told that in a week or ten days they would set out for Potosi, the Bolivian city which is the center of the famous silver mining region whose discovery once startled the world.

“Potosi,” said Ernesto, “may be our starting point, but I must tell you that in all likelihood we shall conduct our activities in two widely separated regions. The ancient manuscript of which I have spoken to you, Ferdinand, and which Senor Hampton tells me he has mentioned to you others, gives us quite definite directions for our search.

“It was written by a Spanish conquistadore who was with the expedition of Captain Sebastian de Arguello, of whom I understand Ferdinand has told you young fellows. This soldier of fortune never left the Enchanted City, according to his account, but married an Inca princess, and spent his remaining days in this city of wonders. From her and her relatives, he learned of the hidden horde in Bolivia which was cached before the band of Inca noblemen with their families and followers fled to the southward before the Conquerors.

“As old age came upon him, he decided to write down an account of his adventures, of the wonders of the Enchanted City, and of the hidden wealth left behind by the migrating Incas. This, he wrote, he intended to entrust to one of the three priests of de Arguello.

“The manuscript recently came into the hands of a relative of mine, who is the Superior of an Andine monastery in Southern Chile, and he, knowing my collector’s passion for the old and mythical in our history, sent it to me as a curiosity. But to me it is more. I believe it genuine, and so I am persuaded does Senor Hampton. One of my relative’s wandering monks, going among the Indians, was enabled to succor the Chief of a wild tribe in illness, and this manuscript in a battered and curiously wrought silver tube that had been handed down among the Indians for centuries, was given him as reward.”

The boys were shown the manuscript, which was written in purple ink upon sheepskin,