When my host dismounted from his hobby he was an intelligent talker, and
told me much that was interesting about Mexico, Peru, Guatemala, and the
Spanish Main. He had several books on the subject which I greedily
devoured. The expedition of Piedro de Ursua and Lope de Aguirre in search
of El Dorado and Omagua; "History of the Conquest of Mexico," by Don
Antonio de Solis; Piedrolieta's "General History of the Conquest of the
New Kingdom of Grenada," and others; and before we parted I had resolved
that, so soon as the war was over, I would make a voyage to the land of
the setting sun, and see for myself the wonders of which I had heard.

"You are right," said Señor Zamorra, when I told him of my intention.
"America is the country of the future. Ah, if I were only fifty years
younger! You will, of course, visit Venezuela; and if you visit Venezuela
you are sure to go to Caracas. I will give you a letter of introduction to
a friend of mine there. He is a man in authority, and may be of use to
you. I should much like you to see him and greet him on my behalf."

I thanked my host, and promised to see his friend and present the letter.
It was addressed to Don Simon de Ulloa. Little did I think how much
trouble that letter would give me, and how near it would come to being my
death-warrant.

Zamorra then besought me, with tears in his eyes, to go in search of the
Golden Volcano.

"If you could give me a more definite idea of its whereabouts I might
possibly make the attempt," I answered, with intentional vagueness; for
though I no more believed in the objective existence of the Golden Volcano
than in Aladdin's lamp, I did not wish to hurt the old man's feelings by
an avowal of my skepticism.