Saying nothing to anybody, one morning I slipped away and walked to the edge of the lake, a distance of five or six miles over rough country.  Having arrived there I perceived that the cone-shaped mountain in the centre, which was about a mile from the lake shore, was much larger than I had thought, quite three hundred feet high indeed, and with a very large circumference.  Further, its sides evidently once had been terraced, and it was on one of these broad terraces, half-way up and facing towards the rising sun, that the ruin-like remains were heaped.  I examined them through my glasses.  Undoubtedly it was a cyclopean ruin built of great blocks of coloured stone which seemed to have been shattered by earthquake or explosion.  There were the pillars of a mighty gateway and the remains of walls.

I trembled with excitement as I stared and stared.  Could I not get to the place and see for myself?  I observed that from the flat bush-clad land at the foot of the mountain, ran out what seemed to be the residue of a stone pier which ended in a large table-topped rock between two and three hundred feet across.  But even this was too far to reach by swimming, besides for aught I knew there might be alligators in that lake.  I walked up and down its borders, till presently I came to a path which led into a patch of some variety of cotton palm.

Following this path I discovered a boat-house thatched over with palm leaves.  Inside it were two good canoes with their paddles, floating and tied to the stumps of trees by fibre ropes.  Instantly I made up my mind that I would paddle to the island and investigate.  Just as I was about to step into one of the canoes the light was cut off.  Looking up I saw that a man was crouching in the door-place of the boat-house in order to enter, and paused guiltily.

“Friend-from-the-Sea” (that was the name that these islanders had given to me), said the voice of Marama, “say—­what are you doing here?”

“I am about to take a row on the lake, Chief,” I answered carelessly.

“Indeed, Friend.  Have we then treated you so badly that you are tired of life?”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Come out into the sunlight, Friend, and I will explain to you.”

I hesitated till I saw Marama lifting the heavy wooden spear he carried and remembered that I was unarmed.  Then I came out.

“What does all this mean, Chief?” I asked angrily when we were clear of the patch of cotton palm.

“I mean, Friend, that you have been very near to making a longer journey than you thought.  Have patience now and listen to me.  I saw you leaving the village this morning and followed, suspecting your purpose.  Yes, I followed alone, saying nothing to the priests of Oro who fortunately were away watching the Bellower for their own reasons.  I saw you searching out the secrets of the mountain with those magic tubes that make things big that are small, and things that are far off come near, and I followed you to the canoes.”