and turning of the place, he led him through a mile of passages, their darkness relieved here and there by round, square or triangular patches of light sifting down between thousand-year-old stones from the world above. Occasionally he stopped to tell Dick what temple, what palace, they were passing under.
"Yaca-Huasi, which they also call the House of the Serpent, is over our heads now."
"Perhaps they have taken her there!"
"No, no! That's against all the rules. The Temple of Death is the next place."
"Where are we going to? Where are you taking me?"
"To the Temple of Death, of course!"
Dick followed him without another word, but expressed his surprise when they emerged into the open country.
"Where is the Temple, then?" he asked.
"On the Island of Titicaca. You needn't be afraid. We shall get there before them."
They hired horses at a wayside inn and rode to Sicuani. Here they took a train which, turning onto a branch line at Juliaca, then ran to Puno, on the shores of Lake Titicaca. On the way, Orellana babbled ceaselessly about the country through which they were passing and the ceremony they were to witness.
"No stranger has ever seen it" But he, Orel-
