those dreary sands during three weeks of inactivity, with no thought of
penetrating the inland forests behind the range, or of even entering the
nobler bay beyond? Or was the location of the spot a mere tradition as
wild and unsupported as the "marvells" of the other volume? Pomfrey had
the skepticism of the scientific, inquiring mind.

Two weeks had passed and he was returning from a long climb inland, when
he stopped to rest in his descent to the sea. The panorama of the
shore was before him, from its uttermost limit to the lighthouse on the
northern point. The sun was still one hour high, it would take him
about that time to reach home. But from this coign of vantage he could
see--what he had not before observed--that what he had always believed
was a little cove on the northern shore was really the estuary of a
small stream which rose near him and eventually descended into the ocean
at that point. He could also see that beside it was a long low erection
of some kind, covered with thatched brush, which looked like a "barrow,"
yet showed signs of habitation in the slight smoke that rose from it and
drifted inland. It was not far out of his way, and he resolved to return
in that direction. On his way down he once or twice heard the barking
of an Indian dog, and knew that he must be in the vicinity of an
encampment. A camp-fire, with the ashes yet warm, proved that he was on
the trail of one of the nomadic tribes, but the declining sun warned
him to hasten home to his duty. When he at last reached the estuary, he
found that the building beside it was little else than a long hut, whose
thatched and mud-plastered mound-like roof gave it the appearance of a
cave. Its single opening and entrance abutted on the water's edge, and
the smoke he had noticed rolled through this entrance from a smouldering
fire within. Pomfrey had little difficulty in recognizing the purpose of
this strange structure from the accounts he had heard from "loggers" of
the Indian customs. The cave was a "sweat-house"--a calorific chamber