We had our spears.  I examined them curiously.

The head appeared to be of copper and the shaft was a long, thin rod of the same material.  But when I tried it against a stone and saw its hardness I found that it was much less soft, and consequently more effective, than copper would have been.  That those underground savages had succeeded in combining metals was incredible, but there was the evidence; and, besides, it may have been a trick of nature herself.

The point was some six inches long and very sharp.  It was set on the shaft in a wedge, and bound with thin, tough strips of hide.  Altogether, a weapon not to be laughed at.

We carried the spears, the raft, and the oars behind a large boulder to the left of the ledge with considerable difficulty.  The two latter not because we expected them to be of any service, but in order not to leave any trace of our presence, for if any searchers came and found nothing they could know nothing.

We expected them to arrive at any moment, and we waited for hours.  We had about given up watching from our vantage point behind the boulder when two Incas appeared at the mouth of the passage.  But they brought only oil to fill the urns, and after performing this duty departed, without a glance at the lake or any exhibition of surprise at the absence of their fellows.

Every now and then there was a commotion in some part of the lake, and we could occasionally see a black, glistening body leap into the air and fall again into the water.

“I’m hungry,” Harry announced suddenly.  “I wonder if we couldn’t turn the trick on that raft ourselves?”

The same thought had occurred to me, but Harry’s impulsiveness had made me fearful of expressing it.  I hesitated.

“We’ve got to do something,” he continued.

I suggested that it might be best to wait another hour or two.

“And why?  Now is as good a time as any.  If we intend to find Desiree—­”

“In the name of Heaven, how can we?” I interrupted.

“You don’t mean to say you don’t intend to try?” he exclaimed.

“Hal, I don’t know.  In the first place, it’s impossible.  And where could we take her and what could we do—­in short, what’s the use?  Why the deuce should we prolong the thing any further?

“In the world I refused to struggle because nothing tempted me; in this infernal hole I have fought when there was nothing to fight for.  If civilization held no prize worth an effort, why should I exert myself to preserve the life of a rat?  Faugh!  It’s sickening!  I wondered why I wanted those spears.  Now I know.  I have an idea I’m going to be coward enough to use one—­or enough of a philosopher.”

“Paul, that isn’t like you.”

“On the contrary, it is consistent with my whole life.  I have never been overly keen about it.  To end it in a hole like this—­ well, that isn’t exactly what I expected; but it is all one—­after.  Understand me, Hal; I don’t want to desert you; haven’t I stuck?  And I would still if there were the slightest possible chance.  Where can we go?  What can we do?”