The shadows of evening were slowly falling as the little party of which
Kitwater, Codd, and Hayle, with two Burmen servants, were members,
obtained their first view of the gigantic ruins of which they had come
so far in search. For many days they had been journeying through the
jungle, now the prey of hope, now of despair. They had experienced
adventures by the score, though none of them were of sufficient
importance to be narrated here, and more than once they had come within
a hair's-breadth of being compelled to retrace their steps. They rode
upon the small wiry ponies of the country, their servants clearing a way
before them with their _parangs_ as they advanced. Their route, for the
most part, lay through jungle, in places so dense that it was well-nigh
impossible for them to force a way through it. It was as if nature were
doing her best to save the ancient city from the hand of the spoiler. At
last, and so suddenly that it came upon them like a shock, they found
themselves emerging from the jungle. Below them, in the valley, peering
up out of the forest, was all that remained of a great city, upon the
ruined temples of which the setting sun shone with weird effect.

"At last," said Hayle, bringing his pony to a standstill, and looking
down upon the ruins. "Let us hope we shall have penetrated their secret
before we are compelled to say good-bye to them again."

"Hear, hear, to that," said Kitwater; Septimus Codd, however, never said
a word; the magic hand of the past was upon his heart, and was holding
him spellbound.

They descended the hill, and, when they had selected a suitable spot,
decided to camp upon it for the night.