I gave up hope, and my intentions were narrowed to one frantic desire--to hide the jewels.
Patriotism, which I had almost forgotten, flickered up in that crisis.
At any rate Laputa should not have the Snake.

If he drove out the white man, he should not clasp the Prester's rubies on his great neck.
There was no cover in the green cup, so I turned up the ravine on the right side.

The enemy, so far as I could judge, were on the left and in front, and in the gully I might find a pot-hole to bury the necklet in.

Only a desperate resolution took me through the tangle of juniper bushes into the red screes of the gully.

At first I could not find what I sought.