Monella smiled.
“Not one of them would ever show another man the way,” he replied, “let him offer what he might.”
“But why all these precautions?”
“Later you will understand.”
But, when Jack came to look round, his heart sank within him.
“I should not care to have a few miles of railway to cut through wood like this,” he said. “It’s the worst I ever saw. I do not wonder you have found it more than you could manage—only yourself and these Indians—and it’s a wonder you ever got them to join at all, considering all the circumstances.”
“Yes; that’s where it is,” Monella answered. “Many men would have despaired, I think. We have had trouble, too. Two Indians met with accidents and were badly hurt; though now they are recovering. Then, some of the small streams that issue from the mountain became suddenly swollen once or twice, and washed away the rough bridges we had made across them; and we have met with many unexpected obstacles, such as great masses of rock, or a fallen tree, some giant of the forest that was so big it was easier to go round it than to cut through it.”
That evening, Monella explained his project, and showed the young men the plans and diagrams Dr. Lorien had spoken of, and then went on to say,
“If you decide to join me, you ought to know something of the language in which these old documents are written. I both read and write it, and I speak it too. You will find it interesting to decipher them, and an occupation for the evenings.”