“Well, I lived in peace and comfort in my home in the town not far from here, and had everything an old man could wish. One day, about two months ago, as I was sitting on the front stoop, I saw an aged man pass. His clothes were in tatters, and he seemed the worst sort of a tramp. The children in the streets were abusing him, more from thoughtlessness than from any desire to harm him. I made some inquiries of them, and learned that they considered the old man crazy.
“I felt sorry for him, and, after sending the children away, I took him into my house, gave him a meal, let him have a bath, and fitted him with decent clothes. I then saw that he was not crazy, but that suffering and hardship had made him weak minded. In a few hours, after rest and nourishment, he was able to tell me his story, and a wonderful one it was, for it was the tale of the prisoners of Lost Valley.”
“Was that man one of the survivors of Deering’s Band?” asked Professor Snodgrass.
“He was,” answered Mr. Bell solemnly.
“Mr. Snodgrass is a cousin of Amos Deering,” explained Jerry.
“Is it possible?” ejaculated Mr. Bell. “Then he will be doubly interested in what I have to tell. This man, whose name was Bertram Loftus, was one of Deering’s Band. As you already know, Mr. Deering led a party of prospectors in a search for gold. Some of them were friends of mine. They got to this part of the country, and heard of a fertile valley, where gold was said to be plentiful, and where conditions of life were almost ideal. They started for it, only to fall in with a band of Indians who offered to lead them to the valley.
“This the savages did, but for motives of their own. Lost Valley, as it has come to be called since, was practically a lost valley then; that is, only the Indians knew the location. They led the white people into it, taking care to make the entrance at night, and in the morning Deering and his comrades, including women and children, found themselves prisoners in the valley. There was but one way out, and the Indians closely guarded the secret of it.
“Well, the party tried to escape when they found that they were prisoners, and several were killed in the conflict, so Mr. Loftus told me. The others resigned themselves to their fate and were virtually made the slaves of their captors, who took from them everything of value. Years went on and the children grew up, the old men and women died, until now scarcely a third of the original band is left. Many tried to escape, but either failed or were killed.
“Finally Loftus, who was a young miner when the Indians captured him, resolved to try to get away, hoping to be able to bring help. His escape was carefully planned. Indeed, he did not undertake it until many years from the time of the captivity. All those years the poor people had been held prisoners by the Indians. I suppose when the savages first led them into the valley, it was with the idea of taking what wealth they had. But the disappearance of the band attracted attention, and if there had been proof that the Indians were responsible, government troops would have been sent out, who would have exterminated the redmen. This risk of government aid made it necessary for the savages to guard their prisoners closely. Well, as I said, Loftus planned his escape, and he accomplished it after terrible hardships.