For Galusha was wild with enthusiasm.  Scrambling amid the rocks, wading or tumbling into the frigid waters of mountain streams, sleeping anywhere or not sleeping, all these hardships were of no consequence whatever compared with the thrill which came with the first glimpse of, high up under the bulging brow of an overhanging cliff, a rude wall and a cluster of half ruined dwellings sticking to the side of the precipice as barn swallows’ nests are plastered beneath eaves.  Then the climb and the glorious burrowing into the homes of these long dead folk, the hallelujahs when a bit of broken pottery was found, and the delightfully arduous labor of painstakingly uncovering and cleaning a bit of rude carving.  The average man would have tired of it in two days, a week of it would have bored him to distraction.  But the longer it lasted and the harder the labor, the brighter Galusha’s eyes sparkled behind his spectacles.  Years before, when his aunt had asked him concerning his interest in the books about ancient Nineveh, he had described to her the work of the explorers and had cried:  “Gee, it must be great!” Well, now he was, in a very humble way, helping to do something of the sort himself, and—­gee, it was great!

Such enthusiasm as his and such marked aptitude, amounting almost to genius, could not help but make an impression.  The distinguished savant at the head of the expedition returned the young man’s liking.  Before returning East, he said: 

“Bangs, next fall I am planning an expedition to Ecuador.  I’d like to have you go with me.  Oh, this isn’t offered merely for your sake, it is quite as much for mine.  You’re worth at least three of the average young fellows who have trained for this sort of thing.  There will be a salary for you, of course, but it won’t be large.  On the other hand, there will be no personal expense and some experience.  Will you go?”

Would he go?  Why—­

“Yes, I know.  But there is your health to be considered.  I can’t afford to have a sick man along.  You stay here for the present and put in your time getting absolutely fit.”

“But—­but I am fit.”

“Um—­yes; well, then, get fitter.”

Galusha went to Ecuador.  Aunt Clarissa protested, scolded, declared him insane—­and capitulated only when she found that he was going anyhow.  He returned from the expedition higher than ever in favor with his chief.  He was offered a position in the archeological department of the museum.  He accepted first and then told Aunt Clarissa.

That was the real beginning.  After that the years rolled placidly along.  He went to Egypt, under his beloved chief, and there found exactly what he had dreamed.  The desert, the pyramids, the sculptures, the ancient writings, the buried tombs and temples—­all those Galusha saw and took, figuratively speaking, for his own.  On his return he settled down to the study of Egyptology, its writings, its history, its every detail.  He made another trip to the beloved land and distinguished himself and his museum by his discoveries.  His chief died and Galusha was offered the post left vacant.  He accepted.  Later—­some years later—­he was called to the National Institute at Washington.