This white rock was high above the river and had not been dissolved by the stream. Its northern portion had undoubtedly been worn by rains, and it was probably not so high as when old Huayno was a young man; still it had been better preserved than if the full force of the stream had been brought to bear upon it.
“What if conditions had been different and the rock had been wave-washed all these years?” Harvey asked, and then answered himself: “It would have been worn down and all sides would have been weather-stained, even as the more exposed portions are.”
In the region of the peculiar mounds they had noticed a depression, and all had agreed that it probably formed the course of a stream during the rainy season. Perhaps the second white rock had stood in this depression; it was undoubtedly not so high as that which was nearer the river, even in old Huayno’s day. What then would have been the natural result of a low rock of alabaster, washed five and six months in the year by swiftly running waters?
Again he answered himself, to the effect that under such circumstances a rock of this description would have been worn down in the eighty years, perhaps almost to a level with the country, and its entire surface would be slate-colored, like the weather-beaten sides of the landmark on the Marañon.
Five minutes later Harvey entered the shelter-tent and awakened Ferguson.
“My turn to stand guard, eh?” said the elder American, as he threw off the blankets and commenced putting on his clothing.
The boy made no answer until he was joined on the outside by the young man; then he said:—
“No, it isn’t your turn, and it won’t be for an hour, but I would like to go into the woods for a little while and don’t wish to leave the camp unguarded.”
“Go into the woods! Are you crazy, lad? Has the moon affected you?”
“I have an idea that I can find the second rock.”