"The scriptures of Anahuac were of the hieroglyphic type,--picture-writing," replied the other. "No, I fear there is nothing to the purpose; and if there were, I shouldn't know how to decipher it."
"But, papa, the tunic!" exclaimed Miriam.
"Oh! has the tunic anything to do with it?"
"Is that the queer woollen garment with the gold embroidery?" inquired the professor, becoming more interested. "I took a fancy to that, you remember. Has it a story?"
"Well, it is a kind of an anomaly, I believe," the general answered, looking up at his daughter with a smile. "The Aztecs, you are aware, dressed chiefly in cotton.
Even their defensive armor was of cotton, thickly quilted. Their ornaments were feathers, and embroidery of gold and precious stones. But wool, for some reason, they didn't wear; and yet this garment, as you can see for yourself, is pure wool; and that it is also pure Aztecan is beyond question."
"Admitting that, what clue does it give to the treasure?"
"You must ask Kamaiakan," said Miriam:
"only, he wouldn't tell you."
"Possibly," the professor suggested, "the place where the treasure is hidden is the place whence the water is to flow out; and the water is the treasure."
"Seriously, do you suppose that such a phenomenon as the return of an inland sea is physically practicable?" asked Trednoke.
"No phenomenon, in this part of the world, would surprise me," returned Meschines. "The Colorado might break its barriers; or it is conceivable that some huge stream, taking its rise in the heights hundreds of miles north and east of us, may be flowing through subterranean passages into the sea, emerging from the sea-bottom hundreds of miles to the westward. Now, if a rattling good earthquake were to happen along, you might awake in the morning to find yourself on an island, or even under water."
"A moderate Mediterranean would satisfy me," the general said. "I wouldn't exchange the certainty of it for the treasures of Montezuma."
"The thirst for gold and for water are synonymous in your case?"
"Give this section a moist climate, and I needn't tell you that the Great American Desert would literally blossom as the rose.
Even as it is, I expect a great deal of it will be redeemed by scientific irrigation. The soil only needs water to become inexhaustibly productive. Our desert, as you know, is not sand, like parts of the Sahara; it has all the ingredients that go to nourish plants, only their present powdery condition makes them unavailable. Now, I can, to-day, buy a hundred square miles of desert for a few dollars. You see the point, don't you?"
"And all you want is expert opinion as to the likelihood of finding water?"
"The man who solves that question for me in the affirmative is welcome to half my share of the results that would ensue from it."
"Why don't you engage some expert to investigate?"
"One can't always trust an expert. I don't mean as to his expertness only, but as to his good faith. He might prefer to sell the idea to somebody who could pay cash, --which I cannot."
"Why, you seem to have given this thing a good deal of thought, Trednoke."
"Well, yes: it has been my hobby for a year past; and I have made some investigations myself. But this is the first time I have spoken of it to any one."
"I understand. And what of the investigations?"
"I can say that I found enough to interest me. I'll tell you about it some time. I should be glad to leave Miriam something to make her independent."
"I should say that her Creator had already done that!" said Meschines. "By the way, I know a young fellow--if he were only here--who is just the man you want, and can be trusted. He's a civil engineer, --Harvey Freeman: the Lord only knows in what part of the world he is at this speaking. He has made a special study of these subterranean matters."
"Don't you remember, papa, Coleridge's poem of Kubla Khan?--
"Where Alph, the sacred river, ran Through caverns measureless to man Down to a sunless sea!"
"Our sacred river, when we find it, shall be named Miriam."
"It ought to be Kamaiakan," she rejoined; "for, if anybody finds it, it will be he."
"I think I hear the wings of the angel of whom we have been speaking," said the general. "Yes, here he is; and he has got the letters. Let us see! One for you Meschines. And this, I see, is from our friend Miss Parsloe, postmarked Santa Barbara.
Why, she'll be here to-morrow, at that rate."
"Here's a queer coincidence!" exclaimed the professor, who had meanwhile opened his envelope and glanced through the contents.
"The very man I was speaking of, --Harvey Freeman! Says he is in this neighborhood, has heard I'm here, and is coming down to pay me a visit. Methinks I hear the rolling of the sacred river!"
"But you won't mention it to him, until----"
"Bless me! Of course not. I'll bring him over here, in the course of human events, and you can take a look at him, and act on your own intuitions. I won't say on Princess Miriam's, for Harvey is a very fine- looking fellow, and her intuitions might get confused."
"A civil engineer!" said Miriam, with an intonation worthy of the daughter of a West-Pointer and the descendant of an Aztec prince.
Kamaiakan (who spoke only Spanish) had been gathering up some cushions that had fallen out of the hammock. Having replaced them, and cast a quick glance at Meschines, he withdrew.
