In this protected corner of the mesa where the winds of ages had gradually deposited a thin sandy soil, the hand of man had planted two almost complete circles of trees. Therein, and generally agreeing with the record of the long dead Vasquez, were the plain outlines of a stone structure. At places, where the walls crossed, and at some of the corners, the masonry yet rose to the height of a man. And again, it fell into long irregular piles of jumbled blocks. Sifted sand filled each corner and crevice.
In the center of the ruins rose the turquoise column. From this, and in a line with the true east to where the boys stood, extended an open approach. Almost reverently Ned and Alan advanced up this walk.
It was easily seen that the structure had contained a maze of rooms—over three hundred, they afterwards discovered—and that the white column stood in a hollow square.
"It's white," almost whispered Alan.
"Yes," answered Ned; "it ought to be blue."
They were now at the foot of the column. Directly in front stood an opening or door. Bordering this was a framework of brick-like squares or tiles, black, and ornamented with white figures.
"Just like pottery," said Alan, noticing the true geometrical design and the still cruder outlines of animals.
"Look," exclaimed Ned, pointing to the top of the door.
Here, the small tiles were replaced with a large square of black tile, in the center of which shone a dull yellow radiating design.
"A symbol of the sun," explained Alan, "and of gold!" he added excitedly.