through your head and dump you into the lake for the fishes to feed upon."
The threat made the fisherman tremble from head to foot, and he sank on his knees and begged them, in his native tongue, not to murder him. The major had no such intention, but did not allow a muscle of his face to betray him. Instead, he placed the muzzle of the pistol to the Tagal's forehead.
"You must do as I say, or you will soon be a dead man. Come, take up the oars and lose no more time. Any treachery on your part means death to you."
So full of fear that he could scarcely hold the oars, the fisherman fell to rowing, and one of the soldiers helped him. In this fashion the casco moved over the swollen lake for hours. No doubt the fisherman wanted to play them false, but he valued his life too highly to take the risk, and just as the sun was peeping over the distant mountains the boat came in sight of a rocky cliff standing well out into the water. Some distance back of the shore was a small stone tower, now covered with moss and vines and fast going into decay.
"Is this the place?" asked the major, eying the native sharply.
