on the mountainside at sunset, midnight, and sunrise. Also, they freely ridiculed my avowed trek into the sacred precincts, assuring me that an entrance was as difficult and forbidden as is an entrance into Tibet.

It appeared that, although the existence of these last descendants of the ancient Lemurians have been known to Northern Californians for more than fifty years, only four or five explorers have penetrated the invisible protective boundary of this Lemurian settlement; but no one has ever succeeded in entering the village; at least, no one has ever returned to tell the tale. It is of course quite possible that if anyone did manage to visit the Lemurians in their Mt. Shasta stronghold, such a person might have good and sufficient reasons to hold secret that which he may have seen.

It is safe to say that fifty out of a hundred people living within a reasonable distance of Shasta have at some time or other tried to approach the Lemurians, yet many—who are known to have penetrated at least part of the mystery—will vehemently deny, perhaps out of some well-founded fear, having made such an investigation or having any knowledge concerning the Lemurians.

It began to look as though the whole affair was a matter of well-seasoned legendry—and yet, I myself had seen the strange illumination on Mt. Shasta before I had heard any of the stories that are so common in the towns surrounding the mountain. And yet it seemed incredible that a colony of people could so successfully seclude themselves in the heart of our thoroughly explored State.

Just then I learned that the existence of Lemurian descendants on Mt. Shasta was vouched for some years ago by no less an authority than the eminent scientist,