156 THE WOODLANDS ORCHIDS 



Caribs therein, going to Belize on some errand. Their 

 astonishment was loud, but not angry ; they had no quarrel 

 with Mr. Ponder. After a very little hesitation they con- 

 sented to lead him to the camp, the Indians remaining in 

 their boat. 



It was not a long walk, nor uncomfortable. A broad 

 path had been cut to the top of the ridge, for hauling down 

 the trunks, and the rollers had smoothed it like a highway ; 

 but not so broad that the great trees on either hand failed to 

 overshadow it. Mr. Ponder questioned his guides laughingly. 

 Was it a real good placer, with nuggets in it.^ — how much 

 had they pouched, and was the game likely to last ^ They 

 grinned and patted their waist-scarves, which, as he now 

 remarked, were round and plump as monster sausages. 



' Oh, I know that trick,' laughed Mr. Ponder. ' You've 

 filled them with maize-flour for your journey.' 



They whooped and roared with triumph. ' Say, Mis'r 

 George, you tell nobody — honour bright .'' — not nobody ? ' 

 One of them turned down the edge of his scarf, with no 

 small effort — for it was twisted very tightly and secured. 

 Presently the contents glimmered into sight — little golden 

 figures, mostly flat, carved or moulded, one to three inches 

 long. ' Our placer all nuggets, Mis'r George ! ' 



Any child in those seas would have understood. The 

 Caribs had discovered not a washing nor a mine, but a 

 burial-ground of the old Indians, called in those parts a 

 ' huaco.' There are men who make it their sole business to 

 look for such treasure-heaps. Since they bear, in general, no 

 outward indication whatsoever at the present time, one 

 would think that the hunt must be desperate ; but these men, 

 like other gamblers, have their ' system.' Possibly they have 

 noted some rules which guided the antique people in their 

 choice of a cemetery. And if they find one in a lifetime — 

 provided they can keep the secret — that suffices. 



