Impatient as I was, the day seemed intolerably long, but at length the sun was sufficiently low to allow of the horses trekking again, although the poor beasts' plight was pitiful. Again I trekked through the better part of the night, due north, and with no fear of missing the water, for it was a wide sheet that the kopje had shown me almost a lake it appeared to be.

Towards morning the horses were so exhausted that I could scarcely urge them forward, and I myself but stumbled doggedly on, kept alive solely by the knowledge that soon now I should drink.

And now, thank God, I could see the water faintly reflecting the light in the east, and just as the sun rose I stumbled clear of the dunes. Before me stretched a wide sheet of water, several miles in length, the shores barren and destitute of vegetation, and without a sign of bird or animal life. My heart mis-gave me, as I noticed how silent, dead, and forbidding the place was: noticed, too, that the horses made no attempt to reach the water they were dying for, but stood dejected and spirit-less where I had let go of their bridles. A few staggering strides and my awful doubt was confirmed. For the water was as salt as brine!

And now for a time I gave way to absolute despair. I was exhausted, and tortured by thirst, my lips cracked and swollen, my tongue like leather; and I felt that when the sun reached its full power I must perish in the horrible agony and madness of a death from thirst unless indeed my revolver saved me the last torture! Sorely was I tempted, as I lay there by the brink of the salt lake, where I had thrown myself down in the agony of my disappointment.

But, thank God, I kept my sanity, and even in that terrible plight Hope again crept into my heart.

"T'samma!" There might be t'samma there to the right where the dunes were higher, and the sand redder, certainly a little dark vegetation appeared to show in the hollows.

And so I staggered to my feet again, and leaving the horses I made my panting, laborious way across to the dunes I had marked, on the eastern shore of the lake. They were about half a mile away, and it seemed as though I should never reach them, but at length I entered the hollow between two of them, and found a few stunted bushes covered with red berries the size of cherries, and the like of which I had never seen before. I hesitated to eat them, for many of the desert berries are poisonous, and almost all are bitter and acrid, but I could see no t'samma, and so I bit one, hesitatingly at first, but as the sharp, delicious flavor penetrated my scorched palate, ravenously.

Cool, full of juice, and of a flavor something like a black-currant, they tasted to me the most delicious morsel that had ever passed my lips, and all thoughts of their being poison left me, as I plucked and ate them greedily. Most grateful they were, and soon I felt a new being, though some poisonous properties they must have contained, for within a few minutes I felt a rush of blood to my head, a buzzing in my ears, and was soon staggering as though drunk. I ate no more then, and in a short time the effects passed off, and wonderfully refreshed and invigorated, I made my way back to the horses; who, the image of despair, stood where I had left them.

I literally dragged them to the little bushes, which to my delight they ate greedily; fruit, foliage, and even the bare twigs. So, again I was respited; but I knew it to be only a respite, for the bushes were few, and I could find no sign of others or of t'samma.

And so for days I wandered, finding a few of the berries here and there, often half maddened and stupefied by them, my head awhirl too with fever, alternately hoping and despairing, my sense of direction almost gone, striving, whenever possible, to work north in my lucid moments, but finding often by crossing my own spoor that I had been wandering in a vain circle.

Then one afternoon, as I lay in a sort of semi-stupor beneath one of the bushes that had yielded me a fair number of berries, a sharp gust of wind aroused me, and looking around me I saw, whirling across the bare dunes towards me, a huge cloud of thick opaque dust, gathering up the loose sand as it sped, whirling high in the air and blotting out the whole sky with its dense volume, snatching up, carrying away, and burying deep again, all that came in its path. It was a sandstorm, and I was in its path, here amongst the loose dunes, where escape seemed impossible. I must fly or be buried! The horses, snorting with fear, would have bolted had I not caught them quickly; and tired as they were, they needed no urging on from the destroying monster that sped relentlessly after them. The dunes were here low and open, and the red berries on which the horses had lived of late, seemed to have maddened and stimulated them, for they seemed to fly on the very wings of the wind. Right before the storm they sped, the first advance gusts eddying around us, the sky overhead already thick with the flying sand.

And now, maddened with fever, intoxicated with the strange stimulation of the berries I too had been eating, I no longer fled in fear, but in its place came a wild exhilaration, and I shouted aloud as I flogged the panting horses to further efforts.

Now, to my disordered brain, the sandstorm was a legion of pursuing fiends, that snatched at me from every gust and eddy; now, too, they were gaining on us, and I shrieked and fought with the imaginary demons as, in spite of the speed of the horses, the storm gained on us and enveloped us more and more at every stride. And so for an eternity I seemed to fly, now hemmed in with blinding sand, seeing nothing, knowing nothing but an overpowering desire to escape from the clutching fiends around, tortured with thirst maddened, screaming. Dark now, as at midnight, except when a flash of forked lightning burst through the driving chaos; now I had burst free again, as the storm veered in another direction, yet still it threatened me and still I galloped on. Then a snort of fright from the horses, a wild plunge forward that almost threw me from the saddle, a sense of falling, a stunning crash that seemed to me to be the bursting asunder of the world's very foundations and then a merciful oblivion.



CHAPTER VI



THE CRATER THE PLEASANT BERRIES SLEEP AND THE AWAKENING



I awoke to the tortures of the damned, crushed, broken and in agonizing pain, and with the aasvogels tearing at my face. Pinned to the earth as by some great weight, my hands were fortunately still free; and my revolver still in its holster; and a few shots sent the lewd, cowardly birds flapping away. The blood was streaming from my face, and again and again I fainted with sheer agony; moreover the fierce midday sun beat down intolerably full in my eyes, for I lay on my back and could move nothing but my arms. But gradually the sun passed, a cool shadow fell across me, and although I believed I was hurt unto death and indeed longed for death to end my agony some modicum of relief must have come with the shade, and with it strength and the desire to live. Moreover, it was borne upon me that from somewhere near me came the sound of running, gurgling water; tantalizing and maddening me in my pain and agony. I was lying on a slope with my head lower than my limbs, and all I could see was the sky above me; do all I could, I could not lift myself, and could not see what pinned my lower limbs to the sand.

But, maddened more, I believe, by thirst and hearing water running, than by the actual agony of my hurt, I at length began to work at the sand on either side of me with my hands, scratching it away until I had altered my position enough to enable me to turn somewhat, and raise myself a little on one elbow.

Then I found it was my dead horses that pinned me down, for both of them lay crushed and broken partly above me; and looking upwards I saw that a sheer cliff of smooth rock towered straight above me, from which the horses had evidently fallen.

I could hear the water plainer now, and though I swooned once or twice from agony, I gradually worked my limbs clear of the incubus pressing on them, and tried to stand up. But this I could not do, some injury to my spine preventing me, and it was as a beast, on all fours, that I at length made shift to crawl in search of the water I was dying for. Each yard I crawled was agony to me, but at last I came to a rock-encircled pool in which lay water clear and deep, and into which a tiny stream splashed and gurgled from an overhanging cliff. Sweet and pure the water was, and in great abundance. I peered into its dark depths and could see the white sand glimmering at the bottom, full ten or twelve feet below me as I judged.

I crawled to it, and I drank as I had never drank before; and I bathed my tortured face and limbs; finding that, miraculously, none were broken, though I was bruised and aching in every bone, and to stand erect was quite beyond me.

So I drank, and slept, and drank again, and later found strength and appetite sufficient to crawl back to where the dead horses lay, and to search among the scattered contents of my pack for some biltong, and the wherewithal to dress my wounds.

And thus for days I lived, and nursed myself gradually back to a measure of my former strength; dragging myself painfully from the water to the shadow of the rocks to sleep, feeling little anxiety as to where I was or what was to happen to me. I had water in plenty and food sufficient for the present, and after the awful experiences of the desert my one desire was to rest and sleep.

But with returning health came curiosity; and although I was still bent and could not walk upright, I managed to move about and to find out something of this strange prison into which I had been hurled in my frantic flight before the sandstorm.

Apparently I was in the hollow cup of an extinct crater, for on all sides towered perpendicular cliffs of dark granite-like rock, so smooth and unbroken for the most part that a baboon would scarce have found foothold upon them indeed, in many places they actually overhung. Almost circular, and about a quarter of a mile in diameter, the floor of this place was to a great extent covered in verdure, broken here and there with rocks, and except where I had fallen there was but little bare sand.

How I had escaped being smashed to pieces was inexplicable, for the sheer wall of rock that penned me in was, I judged, at least five hundred feet in height, and the horses' bones now picked clean by the aasvogels had been smashed by the terrible fall. A short examination of my little domain showed me that although escape from it was apparently hopeless especially in my maimed condition there was no need for me to starve, and indeed my prison was a very pleasant one. There were wild fruits in abundance, many of them unknown to me, but prominent among them the red, luscious, intoxicating berries that had saved my life in the desert; and these I now ate greedily, finding them much riper than when I had first tasted them, and their effect much more potent. They intoxicated me, perhaps maddened me, and dulled my intellect for the time; but they gave respite to my pain-racked frame, and gave me sleep. Sometimes for days I would give myself up to them, eating nothing else, and lying in a pleasant, dreamy stupor by the deep pool, staring into the dark, clear depths where the white sand glimmered so white.

At times I roused myself sufficiently to search for other food, of which there was plenty. Partridges and other fowl swarmed at the water, and were easily killed or trapped, and there was plenty of t'samma growing quite close to the spot where I had fallen.

These, since I had now an abundance of water, I did not attempt to eat; taking only the pips from the ripe ones, drying them in the sun, and pounding them between two stones, as I had often seen the Bushmen do. From the coarse meal thus obtained I made little cakes, roasting them on hot stones or the embers of my fire. Matches I had none, but my burning glass served me just as well, for every day the sun shone; indeed seldom did a cloud cross the sky, and whatever storms may have raged outside nothing but the gentlest breeze ever reached the deep hollow that held me a willing prisoner. Willing? Well, at least apathetic; for all hope, all ambition, all interest in life had left me. I had forgotten the reason of my quest, forgotten the girl who had sent me on it, forgotten that I was once an erect and vigorous man with other interests than to crawl round for berries like an ape, and lie all day and sleep when once hunger was appeased. And thus I led an invertebrate, purposeless existence. I had warmth, food, and water, and the berries that gave me pleasant dreams, and I wanted nothing more. I took no note of the passing of time weeks, months God knows? even years! may have passed nay must have passed as in a dream, and I might well have died there beside the long-bleached skeletons of my horses, but that one day chance or fate led me back to the path of reason. I had been sleeping off the effects of the berries, and lay, beneath the shade of a rock close to the pool, idly tossing about the tiny pebbles of the little patch of shingle close to its brink playing with them as a child might. And suddenly a glint on the corner of one of these little stones arrested my wandering attention; there was something familiar about it, something that stirred memories in my sluggish brain. What was it? I groped in vain for some clue. The pebble worried me, and I made a peevish gesture to throw it away. No! Whatever it was, I must not do that, rather wash it, wash it. Yes! that was what we used to do. But where was the batea, for now by some strange freak I was back in Brazil, and must have my batea. We washed our gravel for diamonds in that wooden prospecting pan—diamonds?

My mind was stirring troubling me now, and with a trembling hand I thrust the pebble into a handful of others and worked them between my palms in the water. Yes, there it was, a good stone of ten carats— slightly encrusted with oxide—a good find. And I? Where was I?

I stood gazing alternately at the stone, and at my surroundings: the pool, the circle of towering cliffs that hemmed me in, and gradually the flood-gates of my clouded memory broke loose and I remembered all.

The girl in England, old Anderson, Inyati, and the blue diamond; my ride and fall; all these came back to me almost in a flash, stunning and amazing me; but for long the incidents of my life here in the hollow were vague and misty. The berries! Surely they had been the cause of my lethargy, and even as I thought of them the desire for them came upon me. But for the first time I fought it, for in my reawakened brain other desires were now surging.

Diamonds! Inyati had told me there were plenty in his land; had Fate with a cruel irony led me into this land of wealth only to maim me and keep me a lonely prisoner here in this pit till I died!

All this flashed through my mind as I stood and gazed at the stone; then, righting my inclination for the berries, I plunged into the pool, and found new strength and resolution in its refreshing coolness. Then I searched eagerly amongst the other pebbles and found three more diamonds, all fine big stones; yet not to be compared with the blue stone Inyati had given me. Where was it? My pack had been scattered by that terrific fall, but now I remembered the diamond had been sewn securely into the cartridge belt I had always worn. It must be here now with my clothes.

For now I realized that I was naked as a savage clothed but in the long tangled hair on head and chin scarred, blistered and burnt till I looked like a wild man, as I had indeed become.

And then I remembered my face, the vultures! and looking into the clear waters of the pool, I saw, for the first time with sane eyes, my terrible disfigurement, and cried aloud in anguish as I saw what manner of man I had become, and realized that even if I could escape life was for me a closed book. Scarred, grotesque, and horrible; what future was there for me among my fellow beings . . . even though I could return to them? Again I was sorely tempted to seek the berries that would give me oblivion from all this agony of regret; but I struggled, and as night came I slept a natural, refreshing sleep, and awoke with a new-born hope and determination strong in me. I would not die here as a wild beast; somehow I would scale the cliffs and escape, or die in the attempt a better death than to perish like a rat in a trap without a struggle for liberty.

My head was clearer now than it had been for I know not how long, and I could reason. And Inyati's diamond was my first thought. I could find but little trace of my pack; the white bones of my horses were half buried in sand; a rusty tin here and a few shreds of clothing there being all that I could find near them. My rifle I found; or rather the remnants of it, for it had been broken to pieces in the fall, and no trace of the stock remained. At length in a crevice near the pool I found my revolver with a number of cartridges, my hunting knife, and a few odds and ends of clothing, all in a canvas haversack that still remained strong and sound, and at the bottom my belt and the diamond tied up with Inyati's bracelet. But the leather belt had perished to a remarkable degree; it was hard, black, cracked and twisted, and broke at my first touch; and I found too upon searching for the saddles that nothing remained of them but some dried fragments. I realized then that months must have passed since my fall; but even then I had no conception of the terrible truth! Cheered by the discovery of the blue diamond, I now determined to look closely for others in the vicinity of the pool, but days of laborious searching brought no reward except that the work helped more and more to clear my foggy brain and bring me back to full sanity. I felt convinced that diamonds were there, not far off, however, and one day as I vainly sorted over the gravel where I had found the others, the solution came to me. In the pool, in the white sand that shone so at the bottom, there I should find them! It was deep and narrow, this pool, and a difficult task even for a good diver; and I determined to wait till midday, when the sun shone full on the bottom. When the time came I plunged in, and a rapid stroke or two took me to the bottom.

The water was clear as crystal; and now I could see clearly why it had looked so white and sparkled so when seen through the rippling surface.

Stretched upon the white sand lay the chalk-white skeleton of a man, the grinning mouth and sightless eyes staring up at me in a hideous travesty of mirth; and all around between the outstretched bones lay diamonds, diamonds innumerable: big, bright, sparkling beauties by the handful, wealth incredible to be had for the picking up, with no guardian other than these bare bones of a long dead man.

The shock of coming face to face with this grim "memento mori" here in the depths of the pool was too much even for my desire for the diamonds, and I struck frantically for the surface, clambering out in wild, senseless, unreasoning fear, and not even pausing till I was well away from the vicinity of this spot, which had been my favorite resting place for so long. And that night I tried in vain to sleep, my brain whirling with wild surmises, as to how the long-dead man had found his way into the crater. Was there a path after all, or had he used a rope to let himself down in search of the diamonds, only to meet his death in some manner where they lay thickest?

Or had he, perchance, passed years in the trap, vainly endeavoring to find a way out, pacing day after day round the ring of encircling cliffs, until at last, in utter despair, he had thrown himself into the pool to end it all, and to leave his bones there watching the treasure he could not take with him?

Each time I closed my eyes the mocking, grinning skeleton seemed to be again before me, and it was not till early morning that I could rest. But with the day my fears vanished; indeed what was there to fear, for how could these few poor bones harm me?

Still, I could not bring myself to dive into the pool again, but set about devising some other means of getting the diamonds. An empty gourd, cut into the shape of a bowl, and lashed to a stick, solved the difficulty, and with this primitive dredge I brought up diamonds sufficient for a king's ransom; so many indeed that long before night even I was satisfied. Large lustrous stones they were, of splendid water, and several of them were blue, though none were as fine as the one Inyati had given me. ...

So here was wealth far beyond my wildest dreams, and if I could but escape then, even disfigured as I was, life might still hold pleasures for me.

Even if the girl who had sent me to this turned away in horror from my hideous disfigurements, there was much that money could bring travel, adventure, sport, a thousand things and, at any rate, the companionship of rational beings, for which I now craved as I had craved for water in the desert. For God knows how long I had seen no human being no living creature indeed but a few birds and I had almost forgotten the sound of a human voice. Sunk in apathy I had become almost as a beast, but the sight of the diamonds had aroused me, and I recalled how poor Inyati had called them "magic stones." Magic indeed, for they had saved my reason.

And with the sight of all this wealth the desire to escape grew stronger, and with it grew a hatred of my hitherto pleasant prison until the thought of remaining in it became intolerable to me. That very evening I began a minute examination of my prison walls; but it was not till several days had passed that I at length discovered a route where here a crack, there a tiny ledge, and again a small projection, offered a precarious chance of foot or hand-hold, and where, if anywhere at all, a human being might essay the terrible climb to the desert above, with a remote chance of success. My mind made up on this point, I made what preparation I could for the climb, and for the desert beyond it. My water bottle was still sound, and little as it held it must suffice. For food I killed a number of the partridges and roasted them, cutting away their plump breasts from the bone, for I realized that in the terrible climb before me every ounce would tell; my knife, revolver, and a few cartridges I made a belt for by plaiting the strong coarse grass that grew near the water, and of the same material I made a hat, for I remembered, only too well, that I should find no shade in the desert should I succeed in my desperate attempt.

Shoes I had none, but this did not trouble me, for my feet were hardened to the consistency of leather. The diamonds I made into a bundle with some shreds of clothing, and stowed them in the canvas haversack, except for Inyati's and a few other blue ones which I luckily put in my pocket.

All these belongings I conveyed one evening to the foot of the cliff up which I intended attempting to climb, sleeping at the spot so as to be ready and fresh for a start at daybreak. I feared little as to my strength, for in spite of my injuries I was now stronger than I had ever been; but what I did fear was vertigo. From a child I had always had a horror of looking down from a great height, feeling an almost irresistible desire to throw myself down whenever I did so, and I feared that as I neared the top this would happen and I should be dashed again to the floor of the crater.

But better that and death than this endless captivity; and I did not shrink from my formidable undertaking. At early dawn I drank deep from the gushing water that I was leaving, and fastening on my load I began to climb. For a time all went well, though of necessity my progress was but slow, and the sun was full overhead when I halted for a rest on a small ledge about half way up. Here for the first time since I started I could lie at full length without having to hold on, and I needed the rest, for the strain had been terrific, and I feared that the worst part of the climb was still to come.

So far, I had resisted all inclination to look down, but shortly after leaving the ledge I was compelled to do so. I had been following a crack running diagonally up from it, and which from below had appeared to connect with another ledge favorable to me, but to my consternation I found that this was not the case, ten or twelve feet of absolutely smooth and vertical rock cutting me off from my coveted path to freedom. I was flattened against the wall, my heels overhanging the abyss, clutching with one hand a projection above me, and feeling with my other for a new grip; but the rock was as smooth as polished marble, and it was evident that I must work back to the ledge I had rested on and try for a new route. And to do this I had of necessity to look down. As I did so the deadly vertigo I feared so much came over me, and it was well that I had good hand and foothold, or I should certainly have fallen. As it was I clung helpless, sick, and giddy, with closed eyes for some time, and it was only by the strongest effort of my will that I could force myself to again open them, and work my way gradually back to the little ledge. There I threw myself down, panting and deadly sick, the whole world seeming to spin round me; and there I lay for some time inert and helpless, before I could brace myself sufficiently for a further effort. At length I roused myself and started up again in another direction, towards where I could see a few stunted bushes growing, and here to my joy I found a wider ledge than the last, leading steeply upwards. It came to an end, however, far below the cliff top; moreover, at this part the top actually overhung me, and it was evident I must attempt to work my way farther round before climbing higher. To add to my anxiety I noticed now that evening was fast approaching and I realized that I had but little daylight left to me, and should darkness find me still clinging like a fly to the face of the cliff my fate was certain. I was almost exhausted, and my heart sank as I searched in vain for a way up. The distance was not great now, a bare fifty feet separating me from the topmost pinnacle, but though I walked along the bottom of this barrier for some distance it still presented the same insurmountable difficulties.

And the sun had set, and dusk was already falling, when half frantic with fear, I at length made out a crevice which appeared to offer a possible means of saving my life. It ran diagonally across the rock at a steep angle upwards, going out of my sight around a big buttress that overhung me, and I could not tell whether it reached to the actual top or not. But it was my only chance, and with my heart in my mouth I made my way towards it. I could just reach it, and setting my teeth and summoning all my courage, I gripped it fast and made my way gradually upward. For a few yards my feet found a little foothold to help me, but soon I was dangling over the awful abyss. I dare not think of what lay below me, but with set teeth, and muscles cracking with the strain, I edged gradually along till I rounded the buttress face, and here within ten feet of the summit I found scanty foothold again. Here I stood quivering and exhausted till I had regained my breath, and then in the fast waning light I examined the few feet of rock that still stood between me and freedom. Barely two feet above my outstretched hand was the pinnacle that formed the edge of the cliff, but how was I to reach it? To spring from my precarious foothold was impossible, and not the slightest hold could I find for my fingers anywhere to draw myself up. Night was now upon me, to return to the ledge was out of the question, and I knew that I could not cling for long where I was, but that long before daylight came again I must fall into the awful abyss that yawned beneath me. God! to die like this after all my struggle, to die within a few inches of freedom. Had I but a rope! And with the thought came inspiration. The sling of the haversack! It was of stout, strong canvas, and might hold could I but throw the loop over the pinnacle. It was a poor chance but my only one. Hastily slipping it off I held the bag in my right hand, and clutching my only handhold with the left, I attempted to throw the loop over the sharp point above me. Again and again I missed, and it was in an agony of despair, when, at last, it fell clear over the point and held. I hauled at it with all the strength of my free arm and it held firm. But would it hold my weight? This I could not test, but I must perforce stake all upon the chance, for there was no other chance. Should a strand of the canvas give, down I must go hurtling to my death. There was no other way, and with an inarticulate prayer I gripped the strap fast with my other hand and swung myself upwards. A second later although in my agony it seemed an eternity and my hand clutched the pinnacle itself; a wild convulsive scramble and I was up safe . . . and free . . at last! And even as I dragged myself into freedom, the haversack, loosened from its hold, fell with all its precious contents into the black depths below!



CHAPTER VII



THE COUNTRY OF CRATERS, THE PATH OF SKULLS, AND THE SNAKE



Filled, as I could but be, with thankfulness at my escape from captivity and from an awful death, I did not realize for a time what the loss of the diamonds meant to me; indeed I was too exhausted by my terrific struggle to do more than crawl a few yards away from the brink, throw myself down in the sand and sink into the sleep of utter weariness.

But with my awakening the bitter truth was borne upon me in a flash. All my struggle had then been in vain. I had won my freedom but had lost all that would make life bearable. Even if I could win back through the desert, what had I now to compensate me for the horrible disfigurement that would make me shunned and despised a leper amongst my fellowmen?

Bitterly did I regret my pleasant prison down below surely it would have been better to stay there in peace till I died, as fate had apparently decreed; and if I could have done so I would certainly have returned. But to return was impossible, and I must make up my mind to struggle through the desert or die where I was. Moreover, in the midst of my bitter reflections there came the comforting recollection that I had still the blue diamonds that I had kept apart and put in my pocket. Eagerly I felt for them yes! they were safe, and in themselves they must be worth a fortune!

My spirits rose with a bound again; why should I dream of giving in? I was strong and hard, and if I could win through, the diamonds would surely enable me to fit out an expedition and return; and with ropes the descent into the crater would be easy.

Rested by the cool of the night I felt little the worse for my climb, and was all eagerness for dawn to break that I might see what manner of country I was in, for I had been half demented when my terrible ride from the pursuing sandstorm had brought me into it.

At last daylight came, and I saw that although in the midst of a wide sandy plain, there were no dunes; scattered bushes grew here and there, and dotted about in the distance were a number of bare granite rocks. The crater I had climbed from went sheer down at my feet so abruptly indeed, and with so little to denote its presence, that within a few yards of its brink nothing whatever could be seen of it.

I looked once more into its depths, to where the pool lay dark in the still dim light of dawn, and from it my eyes followed the course that I had taken in my climb, and I marveled that I had ever reached the top. And a great thankfulness rose in my heart and drowned the unworthy regret that I had felt at the loss of the diamonds.

And with a last long look at my late prison, I turned and made my way towards a prominent pile of rocks in the distance, from which I hoped to be able to see more of my surroundings. My waterbottle was nearly empty already, and the old haunting dread of thirst was beginning to fill my mind, but soon this fear left me, for within a mile I found t'samma flourishing, and at the first pile of rocks a little spring of water.

Cheered and encouraged I made good progress in spite of the now blazing sun, and soon I reached the pile of rocks. And to my astonishment I found that they formed part of the margin of a crater almost identical with the one from which I had escaped; deep and inaccessible, and with a mass of vegetation filling the bottom.

This discovery gave me food for thought. It had never entered my head that the queer place of my imprisonment had been one of many, and I had thought that once I could reach even a friendly native tribe where some kind of rope was obtainable I could locate the crater again and secure the bag of diamonds. But I had already stumbled upon another crater, and maybe there were many? And this indeed I found to be the case, for they became more numerous as I proceeded, until the whole country was pitted with them. They were of all sizes and depths, some mere pits of fifty feet in diameter or less, some huge gulfs a mile or more across, and so deep that it was difficult to distinguish what was at the bottom. Invariably their walls were sheer and I could explore none of them, but in nearly all I saw the gleam of water.

So numerous were they, as I penetrated farther into this strange country, that I was forced to make wide detours in my endeavor to avoid them, and so bewildering did this labyrinth of huge pits at last become that I became hopelessly lost among them, and at times thought that I should never break clear of them again. Day after day I wandered about this vast and apparently level plain, finding every short distance a huge yawning gulf at my feet, forced to try new routes, and constantly being pulled up by similar obstacles. And all this time I saw no sign of life, not even a spoor in the sand to show that mankind had ever trod there. There was no animal life even; a few birds, and a few snakes, nothing more indeed so deserted and dead was this weird land that it appeared unreal, and often I imagined that by some strange chance I had been transported to some other and long-dead planet, so little was this maze of craters like Mother Earth.

I had food and water enough, and as the moon now gave plenty of light I walked only at night, resting in the shadow of the rocks by day.

One night I had made better progress than usual, having walked for some hours without having to deviate from my path, and was beginning to hope that I had escaped from the labyrinth, when suddenly, at my very feet, there yawned the usual abyss, but this time so huge that I could scarce make out the farther cliffs, though the moon was full and it was almost as light as day. It would mean a long and weary detour, and my heart sank as I thought of it; then leapt as it had not leapt since the day I found the diamond by the pool in the crater. For there in the misty depths, far away towards the farther cliffs, twinkled a fire!

A fire! Yes; and I had seen no fire except of my own kindling since the night that Inyati had died . . . months months surely it must have been years ago? . . .

Here at last must be human beings: savages maybe, but still flesh and blood like myself; and if they were in the crater there must be a way down.

That night I walked as I had never walked before, following the brink of the chasm, and scarcely taking my eyes from the tiny flame that meant so much to me. A way out, a way back to civilization, to life among beings like myself, all this it would mean to me, even if I found but savages by the fire for they could put me in the right path . . . and it never occurred to me to fear them.

Now as the broad moon rose higher I could see into the crater's depths, and this, besides being more vast, was not as the others I had seen. Its floor appeared to be quite level, and looked to be of pure white sand; but everywhere it sparkled in the bright moonlight. Diamonds surely?

I was near the fire now, though far above it, and now I could see there was a path, a broad white path, down a steep slope, it must be broad to show so plainly, for I was still a mile or more away!

In my eagerness I forgot my fatigue, and hastened panting towards this first blessed sign of man's handiwork that I had seen for so long.

Here it was at last; a broad white road, running straight as an arrow away across the sands in the one direction and leading down into the pit on the other a road paved apparently with round white stones all of one size.

Something in their appearance struck me: a loose one lay beside the path, and I stooped to examine it.

It was a skull a human skull, the whole road was paved with them as far as the eye could reach, there were thousands upon thousands myriads of them.

And as I realized what they were, fear seized me, and I turned away from this terrible pathway.

At last I threw myself down in the black shadow of some rocks, still trembling and agitated, and tried to compose myself to think. What manner of men were these I had found at last, and who watched there below by the fire: what race was this that thus made grim mockery of their dead?

At length I overcame my fears sufficiently to return not to the path but to the edge of the crater at some distance from it, and peering down could see that the fire was still burning, and here, hiding as best I could, I waited till morning. Daylight showed me no sign of life however, though still the pale flame flickered, and I could now make out that it burnt before a sort of building which seemed to be of white polished stone. Till well after broad daylight I lay and watched, but nothing stirred; and I determined that I would go down and see what manner of fire was this that burnt day and night without tending.

The skulls did not look as ghastly in sunlight as they had done in the pale light of the moon. I could see too that this path was ancient, and nowhere could I find traces of its being used. As I had seen the night before, it led straight across the desert, and in the distance in that direction I could now see faint blue mountains. So there was an end to this land of desolation after all, and I determined that after I had seen what was below, I would follow that road! The slope went down steeply and here the path was roughly stepped; as it led deeper, too, the slope narrowed, until at the bottom the entrance to the crater lay through a natural gateway of rock that rose high on either hand and almost shut out the light. Through it the strange path led, and here in the gloom the horror of this awful place again came upon me and I could scarce bring myself to enter the narrow defile. I remember clutching my revolver as I went forward at last: remember thinking too that it could avail me nothing, for here was no live being to fear, here was naught but the dead. . The utter silence and loneliness even after my months of silence and loneliness seemed to weigh upon me like a heavy burden, and when a bat came fluttering by me in the gloom I uttered a hoarse cry of alarm. But the distance was but short, and soon I stood safe in the daylight again, and on the floor of the crater. And now I could see that the white floor I had thought was sand was also strewn with bones, of animals principally, though men's skeletons also lay thick on every side. Bones of the elephant principally; for among them lay huge tusks in quantities, tusks the like of which I had never seen, except in pictures of the giant mammoth of prehistoric ages, tusks the girth of a man in size. Piled in all directions they lay, the whole vast floor was indeed a stupendous charnel house. And among the white sand and bones diamonds lay thick as pebbles on a beach.

Across this floor ran the path now a raised causeway some feet above the level of the sand and about five hundred yards from where I stood the fire burnt in front of a building in the shape of a pyramid. Still no sign of life could I see and I made my way towards it. As I did so the sun's rays broke over the edge of the cliff above, and fell full upon the top of the pyramid, and another flame seemed to shoot from it, and remained there flashing brilliantly.

I was close to the fire now, and saw that it was no hand-fed flame, but a column that rose from an orifice in the rock, and burnt fiercely with a low roaring noise, and a strong mephitic odor. Probably it was some kind of natural gas; at any rate there was no one near it and nothing to fear from it. The pyramid behind it was made of ivory, thousands of tons of magnificent tusks going to make up its forty feet of height, and up it, in steps, ran the path, for the pyramid was the culmination of this road of dead. I climbed up and reached the apex, a platform some twenty feet square, above which something still towered, crowned by a flashing light.

Its brilliance dazzled me, and it was only by shading my eyes with my palm that I could discern what the object was that bore it.

Then, directly beneath the bright glare I gradually made out a gigantic face, glaring down upon me, a face carved with such wondrous art that, monstrous as it was, it appeared to live, and to be endowed with such awful malevolence that for a moment I shrank back in dismay. It was the face of a woman, but the body that it crowned was that of a snake, and was coiled round an ivory pillar rising from the platform. Marvelously fashioned of bronze, the face, with bared serpent fangs, bent down as though to strike: and set in a strangely fashioned diadem above the brows was a gigantic diamond, as large as a man's head, and of such blinding luster that it was impossible to look closely at it as well try to gaze full at the midday sun.

It was an idol, undoubtedly; a Moloch waiting for a sacrifice; and as my fascinated eyes at length left the face of terror, and passed down the coiled body and ivory pillar, I saw that the sacrifice was already there. For at the base lay a dead man, and his blood was scarcely dry upon the altar.

He was fast bound with hide thongs to stanchions cut in the rock a man almost as white as myself, with long, straight black hair, and clothed in clean white flowing robes. His face was horribly disfigured, seared and burnt as though by red-hot irons, and his features quite indistinguishable. Apparently, then, he had been tortured, before being stabbed to the heart by the strangely fashioned knife of bronze that lay beside him.

It is beyond me to describe the terror with which the sight of this dead and mutilated victim inspired me. I had seen no human being for so long: dead Inyati's face had been the last that I had gazed upon; then, after long I had seen the skeleton in the pool the road of skulls and now at last I gazed upon a human form again, it was again that of the dead.

All around me was death, death everywhere, and I felt that unless I escaped, and found human companionship soon, my mind would give way beneath these horrors.

And I must quit this place of sacrifice at once, for the fiends who had laid this victim there would probably give me but scant mercy were I found there.

I examined the body again: it might well have been that of a South European, so light was the skin; and now I noted that on one wrist was a copper bracelet exactly similar to the one Inyati had given me, and which I now wore on my own wrist. I compared them, and found them identical, and now I noted that the rude attempt at a snake's head into which their fastenings were fashioned, was undoubtedly an imitation of the head of the idol above me.

This, then, doubtless was Inyati's land, and this one of the priests he had spoken of. Mayhap he had killed one of them and taken his bracelet before he fled for he had spoken of jealousy and of a woman I—-

But of the idol, the road, the craters he had said nothing . . . maybe he knew not himself?

True, he had feared the priests, till the "little gun" had become his with it he would, doubtless, have faced all the priests living but I, looking at the dead man and realizing something of the manner of his death, was in deadly fear . . . my revolver would be but little use against fiends who served their own priests thus!

I must fly from this place at once if indeed it were not already too late! But gaze as I could, no sign of life showed anywhere; no sound broke the silence except the low hissing murmur of the flame that burnt everlasting incense to the shrine of horror before me.

And so, glancing from side to side in mortal terror, starting at the sound of my own soft footsteps, and feeling that unseen eyes watched me from all sides, I left the Snake and its victim, the pyramid and the flame, and fled swiftly along the causeway, not even stooping to pick up the diamonds that lay on all sides, intent only upon escape. I reached the entrance, and passed through the narrow portals and breasted the steep slope, and fearful and over-wrought, I gained the open plain again.

Northward lay the path to the mountains: south the labyrinth of craters I had left; westward mayhap I should find the dunes? And pitiless as they were, I chose that path rather than follow the road of skulls towards the country and the mercy of such fiends as these people must be!

Soon I had left the crate far behind, and no trace of the road could be seen when I glanced back, but I could not shake off a haunting fear that now possessed me, that I was being watched. Eyes seemed to follow me everywhere, each bush or rock seemed to hide a watcher, and again and again I turned aside and searched, and looked fearfully over my shoulder, but nothing could I see.

And so I walked till evening, seeing no trace of the human beings I knew must be near, and at last, somewhat easier in mind, I threw myself down to sleep.

And awakened to find myself seized and held as in a vice, to feel thongs passed about me, and a hand passing over my forehead . . . gently . . . gently . . . and then all consciousness faded away.



CHAPTER VIII



THE CATACLYSM THE PRIESTESS "LOOK AND FORGET"



Now gazing down full upon me as though in exultation was again the awful face of the Snake, with its diadem the great, bright diamond. Its glare hurt me, and I tried to move my head, but in vain. I was tied fast.

And now I realized that this was no part of an awful dream, but that I lay a hopeless victim in the place of the tortured man I had seen but a day before.

And I knew that I was no longer alone, for though I could see nothing but the grim idol, I could hear around me the murmur of many tongues. Low, but vast in volume, it seemed as though thousands were there below me, hushed and waiting for the consummation of the sacrifice. At times the murmur rose to a mutter as of distant thunder, then again it would be hushed almost into dead silence.

I could not speak or move. I could only lie inert and helpless, filled with the agony of despair, with closed eyes awaiting the stroke, and praying silently that it would come before the mutilation I had seen on the other face.

Now came a single hoarse voice near me intoning words in a chant; and then in response broke out the deep roar of a multitude of voices! Higher and higher it rose until the air vibrated with its thunder, then again it would die away, fainter and fainter till it was nothing but as the sighing of wind through dead men's bones.

Again and again chant and response broke forth, and now too I could distinguish much of its meaning, for the tongue was that of Inyati.

A song of supplication it seemed to me, a song for the Snake's wrath to be appeased to accept the sacrifice offered it, and to send rain upon their dried up fields.

Now it died utterly away, and sweat broke from me in agony as I waited for I knew not what. I tried to make up my mind to die calmly, to resign myself to the inevitable; but my period of liberty and my new- found strength had brought back the old love of life that had burned strong in me before my captivity, and my whole being cried out passionately against this awful end.

Still there was silence, silence for a seeming eternity of waiting for the sharp sting of death . . . and then another voice lifted as though in invocation. Solemn, loud, clear and sonorous, the measured accents rang forth, from close beside me; a voice of unearthly beauty chanting a rhythmic sentence or two, repeated again and again. No hoarse voice of a man this, but of a woman . . . a priestess . . . calling down the fires of Baal to consume the sacrifice.

And, as if in response, came now the peal of heavy thunder.

I had been in terror of the knife before, but had lain silent and with closed eyes awaiting the end, but as the terrible significance of the song of invocation reached me, a hoarse cry of horror broke from my parched throat, and I again tried in vain to struggle free. For now my staring eyes confirmed the terrible thought that had come to me. The sun would soon be exactly overhead, and when it was, its rays would strike exactly through the huge diamond that crowned the Snake, and the intolerable rays, thus concentrated as though by a mighty burning glass, would fall full upon my eyes, torturing and searing me to the semblance of what I had seen on the dead priest.

Screaming and writhing in an agony of apprehension, I lay helpless, whilst the sun sped on, until its rim had almost reached the diamond. But now came peal after peal of terrific thunder, and vivid lightning that made even the sun look pale, and speeding across my field of vision came also a huge black cloud thick and ominous, but to me a most blessed sight a messenger of mercy a miracle! Swiftly it sped, but would it be in time?

The sun had reached the diamond now, and shrink as I would I already felt the roasting heat that beat upon the stone but a few inches from my head. Surely it would reach me, my brain would crack . . . but now, thank God! . . . the cloud had swept across, and for the moment I was safe, at least from this terror.

And now, with the almost incessant roar of thunder came the rain a few huge, stinging drops at first then a downpour such as I had never seen. In incessant sheets it fell like a huge cataract, beating upon my helpless face till I gasped for breath, as one half drowned; and soon the roar of water falling upon water almost drowned the pealing thunder. The shouts of joy that had hailed the first few drops were soon changed to wild cries of alarm, and as still the deluge continued as though the very flood-gates of heaven were opened, the screams of the vast multitude joined the roar of water and the pealing of thunder in one stupendous chorus. I could not see, but I could hear and realize that an awful struggle was going on below me: there in that vast hollow the unseen people would be trapped beyond hope, for into it the water from the plains above would rush in one vast cataract. And still the torrent beat down and the thunder pealed; and I, half mad with my sufferings, yelled and shouted, in mockery of the screams of those who would have immolated me, and who were now themselves perishing all around me. At length the groans and screams of the dying multitude died down to choking gasps, then even these ceased, but still the thunder pealed, and the rain beat down upon my unprotected body till my overwrought senses rebelled, and I sank into a swoon.

A voice the voice that I had heard in invocation came to me in my disordered dreams calling me back. Its insistence troubled me, for I was unwilling to return. But again and again it called, and I at length came back reluctantly to reality.

"Fear not, thy life is thine own again," said the grave, vibrant accents in my ear, and I opened my eyes to find myself still lying upon the altar.

Gazing down upon me was a face that I shall never forget to my dying day the face of a woman, whose skin of ivory whiteness accentuated the unfathomable blackness of the most wonderful eyes I shall ever behold.

They seemed to pierce me through and through, and to search my very soul, as I lay there and gazed back into them as a fascinated bird gazes back into the eyes of the striking snake.

Power infinite there was in those commanding orbs, wisdom and knowledge surpassing that of mere mankind infinite good or infinite evil I know not which!

I shrank in mortal terror at their merciless scrutiny, but I could neither close my eyes nor tear them away, until a hand was passed across my brow, and the spell was broken.

Now a knife cut my bonds, and I was raised by a strong arm to a sitting posture.

How is it possible to describe the horror of the appalling scene that met my shrinking eyes, as for the first time since I had been a prisoner I was able to look upon my surroundings.

The blood-red sun was setting in a stormy sky, from which in the distance the lightning still flickered, close beside me stood the tall form of the priestess, and below, on the lower tiers of the pyramid, were grouped about twenty men priests I judged them to be all robed in white garments, all white men, of fierce and sinister aspect.

But it was not upon these that my eyes rested, but upon the grim and awful holocaust that stretched in all directions below and beyond.

For the pyramid stood as an island in a sea of dead men: from its base, to the mighty walls that encircled the vast floor of the crater, it stretched in an unbroken sheet unbroken, that is, except for the myriad drowned bodies from which the rapidly receding flood was fast draining away.

The glare from the crimson sunset turned it into a sea of blood, and each moment the forms of the drowned multitude showed more and more distinctly; clasping and clinging to each other in the awful contortions of death, as they had struggled with each other in their frantic fight against that awful cataclysm; heap upon heap, line after line, thousands upon thousands of them a multitude a whole nation overwhelmed and destroyed.

Not white men such as the priests, who alone had been saved upon the pyramid, but brown men of Inyati's type, their bodies nude except for a loincloth.

Stunned and dismayed at the fearful sight, I sat inert upon the altar, and gazed upon the mighty hecatomb in utter forgetfulness of my own awful position, till the priestess, who had awakened me, and who also had stood in silent contemplation, turned and once more fixed her glowing eyes upon me.

"Look well, O stranger, look well upon these thy dead," she said in a clear, ringing voice; "upon these who would have sacrificed thee yet who, dying, called upon thee, their bound sacrifice, to save them! 'Save us, Mighty One!' they supplicated, 'thou who art mightier than the Snake save us!' . . . Poor fools they are dead all, all, are dead. . . . And thou, thou helpless 'Mighty One'" she mocked, "art thou content with this thy vengeance, or must we poor servants of the Snake also die to appease thy wrath?"

The look and tone of fierce mockery brought back to me all the fear of hideous torture I had felt before, and I begged that they should mercifully kill me and have done.

"Nay," she replied, "fear not that shall not be I have told thee thy life is safe. Well do I know that thou art but a man, and no god, such as these poor fools thought thee at the last but the Snake hath spared thee, and thy life is sacred. Free shalt thou go, free and with an abundance of the bright stones these dead people deemed sacred and the lust of which brought thee, O stranger, unasked and unwelcome to this our land. Life shall be thine and thou shalt be guided back to the land from whence thou earnest; but thou shalt eat first of the fruit of forgetfulness, and never shalt thou find again the path by which thou earnest hither, or that other by which thou shalt return."

The solemn tone and promise allayed my fears somewhat; at least my life was to be spared; but this talk of not finding the path again did it mean that they would blind me?

Even as the thought entered my mind the mysterious being who held me in her power answered it as though I had spoken it aloud.

"Fear not, I say again," said she, "neither thine eyes, nor a hair of thy head shall be injured. Rather do I grant thee a precious boon, such as many crave for in vain the boon of forgetfulness . . . yet not of all! Stand upon thy feet, O stranger, and look well upon this lake of the dead, then turn and look upon me these things thou shalt not forget."

Weak and shaken by my awful experience, I tottered as I tried to stand upright, and but for her supporting hand I should have fallen. "Aye thou art weak," said she again, "but that which I will give will bring back the strength to thy palsied limbs. . . . Look well, I say, and forget not this!"

Forget! How could I ever forget that awful scene the blood-red water, the countless heaps of drowned men, the upturned faces of the pale priests below me, their dark eyes fixed upon me with looks of hatred and malevolence.

"Aye, they would torture and sacrifice thee," said the strange being who dominated them, and who held my life in her hands, and who again answered my unspoken thought, "but that may not be. . . . And now look thou on me and forget not."

She stood proudly erect, her brow bound by a bronze snake the miniature of the idol above, the diamond set in this strange coronet outdone in splendor by the fires of her wondrous eyes. And now I saw her not as a sphinx-like being of terror, but as a glorious woman, a creature to be adored for her beauty alone, and the long stagnant blood coursed through my veins as I gazed entranced, and for ever enthralled.

No thought of that woman who waited crossed my mind, nothing but mad desire and adoration filled me for this creature of unearthly beauty; and spirit, woman, devil, be she what she might, my one mad longing was to gaze upon her, to worship her, to possess her for ever.

And as I gazed spellbound she spoke again.

"Nay, I see thou wilt never forget," she smiled gravely, "yet must thou eat of the fruit that will bring forgetfulness of all other things."

She called to the priest in another tongue; and one came scowlingly, bringing with him a small box of ebony. The priestess took something from it, and again turned her piercing eyes upon my own, compelling, commanding, dominating me, as she had done when I first opened my eyes. I tried to speak to beg, to implore, that I might remain her slave, if need be, but near her, but she had put a spell upon my tongue, and I could not.

Slowly she held forth her hand, and in the palm I now saw a small withered berry, black and shriveled, but in shape like the scarlet berries I had eaten so often in the crater. "Eat and forget! . . . Eat and forget!" the voice commanded; and now the eyes sought mine again and fascinated and mastered me.

No! I would not eat. ... I would not go! and with all my strength I opposed her will . . . this was poison surely ... I would not eat!

"I seek not thy life rather would I save it," came the warning, as I struggled against the domination, "I have but to hold forth my hand to these my servants, and they would tear thee limb from limb. See, then!"

A gesture, and the crowd of frowning priests sprang up the steps and swarmed round me; their fierce, vulpine faces aglow with terrible joy, their long talon-like nails outstretched to rend me fearful horrifying!

At a word, and just as they had almost reached me, the priestess stayed them; but now their hot breath beat close upon me, and in deadly fear I stretched out my hand and took the berry. "Eat eat, and be safe, no harm shall come thee eat and forget eat and forget!" and with the clarion accents ringing in my ears, and with those unfathomable eyes gazing steadily into my own, I crushed the berry between my teeth and swallowed it. A strange, acrid taste, similar but vastly stronger than the berries I had eaten before . . . a rush of blood to my head, a tingling through all my veins, and then a blackness surging up and hiding all, even blotting out the star-like eyes before me, till all, all was black.

An endless dream of wanderings in thick pathless forests, an endless search for something lost: an eternity of vague formless dreams. Searching searching, and finding nothing: an infinite sorrow for something I could never again find.

Eyes gleaming at me from the dark forest; a myriad eyes, coming and going in the vague shadows, and a voice calling; something I could not understand; and through all, the sorrow for something precious, lost beyond recall.



CHAPTER IX



FORTY YEARS! THE AWAKENING

And then voices in my own tongue, low voices in the tongue I had not heard for so long; and kind English faces coming and going beside my bed, and mingling with my dreams.

And there came a time when I awoke to full sanity again, a time when dreams no longer blended with reality.

I lay in a cool, green-shuttered room, and beside me sat a pleasant- faced man, dressed in white, who was looking at me intently, and who nodded vigorously as I looked back at him.

"Better, eh?" he asked "There, don't speak. I can see you are. Take this, and go to sleep; you have had a bad time, and must get stronger before you talk."

And strong I got rapidly, and in a few days he told me where I was, and how I came there.

He was the British Consul at Loanda in Portuguese West Africa, and one morning about two months before, some natives had brought me in to him slung in a machilla.

They said they had been paid to bring me in, and that I was sick, and before he had had time to question them closely they had disappeared, without anyone finding out where they came from.

Sick and delirious, the Consul had been on the point of sending me to the Portuguese hospital, when a few words in English caught his attention, and feeling that he could not leave a fellow-countryman to the mercy of strangers and foreigners in such a plight, he had seen me through the stiff bout of brain fever in his own house.

As he told me all this, I decided to tell him all in return; for I now remembered all that had happened up to the time I had swallowed the berry; though after that it seemed nothing but a dream.

And first I asked him if the natives had brought anything with me. "Nothing whatever," he replied, "except a small skin bag of stones!"

He had not opened it, nor did I need to then, for the feel was enough. And it had been no dream then the crater, the deluge, the priestess, and the promise she gave me.

Quietly, and as briefly as I could, I told him my story. Half way through it he stopped me. "Look here," he said, "you mustn't go on like this. You are wandering again!" and though I assured him I was not, he felt my pulse and took my temperature. Then he let me go on again, and though he looked puzzled and uneasy he listened till I was finished. And then, looking at his pained and startled expression, I could see that he believed I was lying or mad.

And then and then only I opened the bag. And the diamonds were there enough to make a dozen men rich many more than the few blue ones I had with me when I first escaped.

And never was a man more astounded than the Consul; again and again he made me repeat my story, and at last, in considerable agitation, he got up and walked to the window, where he stood looking out in silence for some time.

Then he came back to the bed where I lay, and looked searchingly at me again.

"You are a young man," he said slowly; "to all appearance you are a young, strong man in spite of your scarred face and your bent spine, you look a young man! Now how long were you there in that pit how long do you think has passed since your terrible experience with the Snake?"

"It all seems like a dream," I answered him, "and I cannot tell. But I must have been several months in the crater perhaps a year. Since then I cannot have wandered long."

"Well, then," he questioned, "what month and year was it that you went to Walfisch Bay, and found Inyati?"

"In 1860," I said; "I landed there in November, 1860. What is it now?"

"Good God, man," he exclaimed, "you must be mistaken. Are you sure it was 1860?"

"Sure," I repeated, "November, 1860; and it was some time in the following May that I lost Inyati May, 1861. Last year, was it?"

"Last year! Last year!" he repeated as though dazed in fact I could see that he was absolutely frightened. "Why man, what you tell me is incredible impossible! If it were true, you have slept for nearly forty years. For it is now 1900."

And now it was my turn to be amazed, for truly what he had told me was incredible . . . surely he must be mad himself!

But he went to the door and called the little Portuguese doctor, who had also been kindness itself to me.

"Aha," he said as he looked me over and felt my pulse, "now you are well and have sense again, eh? That is good, it is good that you are strong very strong never have I see so strong a man never! And if you have not been strong, you would die, for your head it was quite mad!"

"Look here, Doctor Santos," said the Consul, "our friend has forgotten a lot of what has happened to him, . . there is a long period about which his mind is a blank months in fact years!"

"That can be if it is the fever, yes! he will remember again. But his head have been hurt, it is to be seen, that too may make forget, for months even a year!"

"Forty years?" suggested the Consul tentatively.

"Ah, you joke, my friend!" replied Santos, "that would not be possible, he is surely not that age himself?"

And laughing, as he thought, at the Consul's joke, the little man gave me a few instructions that I did not even hear, and left us.

And the Consul, without a word, handed me a newspaper, and a glance at it was enough to show that he at least had made no mistake, for it was dated September, 1900.

And now I was like to go crazy again, with the shock and bewilderment. Forty years! A lifetime lost. My friends would be dead, or old, old people who had long forgotten me. Of what use would all this wealth be to me an old and forgotten friendless man. Old! yes, I must be an old, old man myself. And yet, now the fever had gone, I felt strong and vigorous indeed, the doctor had said that I was exceptionally strong and that I was not forty and the Consul too had said I was a "young, strong man!"

Surely this was pure hallucination . . . but no! the paper was real enough. And turning it over I saw that indeed I had slept a lifetime, for although it was in my own tongue, all it referred to was absolutely strange to me. New inventions, places I had never heard of, nations even that were unknown to me; it was as though I read of a new world, as, uncomprehending, I glanced through this first newspaper that I had seen for forty years.

The Consul had sat watching me in silence. He saw my agitation, and realized something of what I felt, for putting out his hand and grasping mine he said, kindly: "It must be a blow . . . friends all dead, eh? Well, I'm your friend, anyhow . . . and you'll remember later. Why, man, you must get that forty years out of your mind you are surely younger than myself, and will be as strong as a bull in a week or two. Try and sleep, my friend; you'll remember better to-morrow!"

But well I knew that the memory of those lost years would never return to me. "Eat and forget forget!" The words were ringing in my ears even now, as though spoken but yesterday. I had but to close my eyes and the scene of deluge and destruction, there beneath the Snake, came as a vivid picture before them and the eyes and voice of the woman that had bade me forget were with me always. Those burning eyes! They blotted out every other vision even that of the woman that had waited. God help me, I could not even remember the semblance of her face always those eyes of flame came between us. And God help her! If she had waited all these years she would be an old, old woman but forty years! Surely she was dead!

When had it been, that awful sleep of mine that had blotted out nearly half a century, and left me, an anachronism, an outcast a "young, strong man" still, whilst my schoolmates must be old, toothless gossips or long since dead and forgotten? It must have been in the crater where I had fallen that all these years had passed!

The strange berries, mayhap they had robbed me of these years the berries that stupefied me and gave me pleasant dreams.

What then had the priestess bidden me forget . . . the path? Yes, the path; and truly my wanderings had been but as a confused dream, a long weary search it had seemed, hopeless and endless, yet it could have taken but a few months from that long total of years.

And the thought came to me that though I knew nothing of this way of my return, yet the spell had not been perfect, for I forgot little of that other path I had trod with Inyati, and after; and I could, and would, return!

For as my strength came back, and grew till it was the wonder of all, so did my longing to return increase.

The eyes the voice that had bidden me go, now seemed to call for me incessantly . . . all else was a weariness I must go back!

For long I fought it. I even went back to England with Gerard, my good friend the Consul, who, if he still thought me mad, at least respected my madness.

For he said nothing of my story to a soul, and he it was that piloted me as a child through the new conditions of life that I found on all sides in England; he helped me turn part of my diamonds into a large fortune, he helped me at length and with reluctance, for he would rather not have believed in the miracle of my long sleep to find proof of all I had told him.

There came a day when we stood before the graves of my father and mother, who had died years after I had left England died mourning me as dead and from the lips of an old greybeard, who had been my schoolmate, we heard how that scapegrace son of theirs had gone treasure-seeking and had never returned all those years ago.

Poor old garrulous fool; he little knew that the deformed, but strong and vigorous man that asked him of this companion of his youth was that very "scapegrace" himself transformed, and with age held back from him by a miracle.

And there came a day, too, when a sweet-voiced, silver-haired old lady, with her grandchildren playing about her, told these two strangers from Africa how her lover of long ago had gone there to win her a fortune, and had never returned, and how she had waited ten long years for him, till all hope of him had fled, before she married; and how even now she held his memory in dear regard.

How astonished and delighted she had been at the blazing diamond I had given her, in memory of that old adventurer, of whom we said we had heard in far-off Africa; and how I feared as she looked in my eyes, that she would know. For as she gazed tearfully at me, and stammered her protests and thanks for she was poor, and it meant wealth to her I saw her eyes widen as they looked into my own, and she stammered: "You! . . . who are you? . . . You have his very eyes, are you his son?"

Almost was I tempted to tell her all, but the Consul's warning glance stayed me; and why, indeed, should I change her sweet memory of me as I had been, into the horror and dismay she must feel if she knew all?

And so I left her happy, and she blessed me as I went; blessed me as a mother might do for indeed I was apparently young enough to be her son and to her amongst all the women of my own land my disfigurements were as nothing, for she was of those wise and sweet beings that see deeper than the surface.

And then I came back, for I was as a lost man there in the rush and worry of a civilization I knew nothing of moreover, never could I rest, for the eyes of that other being were haunting me and calling me . . . calling me. . . . Well she had known spirit, woman, witch, or what she may have been that once I had looked in her eyes I might forget all else, but her I should forget never.

And so I have sought for years . . . and I cannot find the path.

Again and again I have tried from all sides. West, where Inyati led me, the dunes have altered; storm after storm has swept them till many of the pans are filled and covered, and others laid bare; and from the south it is the same.

Eastward I have tried in vain, for Khama's men are jealous guardians of the desert border there, and twice I have been turned back, in spite of my gold.

From the north and through it I must have found a path back I have struggled long, and there fever has killed my men, and pathless forests have kept me back.

There I left Gerard in a lonely grave; for after he knew that my story had been true nothing could keep him from joining me. Life in Loanda was far too tame, with such an adventure in hand. "Hang the diamonds," he had said, "I've money enough for my simple needs. But those berries they are what I want, for I am getting old, and would be young again. And this woman you dream and rave of perhaps I would see her too!"

Poor friend, he lies there in the thick forest where the fever took him he had not my strength.

And now I go again this time alone. I have searched these dunes till but one path remains untried on that path I now travel. And this time I shall not strive in vain, and again I shall look into those eyes that I have worshipped so long.

And then? Who knows? I am no trembling fugitive now, but one who fears not to measure strength with the immortals if needs be. ... If she be that, I fear nothing . . . and I shall find the way. Seek not to follow me, my friend of the wilderness . . . for I leave no spoor. . . . This time I shall find the path.

It was nearly morning when he finished his weird tale; the waning moon had risen, and threw a faint light over the limitless void of the desert.

The fire was dying down, and I turned to replenish it; for lions were numerous in the vicinity. And as I turned back, I saw this strange acquaintance of mine for the last time. He stood about twenty yards away, his arms outstretched towards the desert as though in supplication; a motionless and striking figure in spite of his deformity.

"I'm going to turn in," I called; but he neither moved nor answered, and when I looked again he had gone.

"He will be back directly," I thought, and curling myself up on my blanket I fell asleep immediately.

All too soon my boys called me, and waking, I found that my guest had gone.

"Which way?" I asked Jantje.

"Nie, baas; ek wiet nie," he said, shaking his head.

"Kambala," said I, impatiently, to the other man; "has the ou baas gone?"

"Ee-wah t In-koos," he answered in the affirmative; "but where I know not. Ask thou, master, these Bushmen, they know!"

There were two Bushmen in the camp, who had turned up but the day before and I made Kambala bring the small, pot-bellied men to where I sat. I knew their "talk."

"The baas with the scarred face," I said; "whither went he?"

"No! no!" they answered in their clicking tongue, "we know not! Who knows? Not we 'Khoi Khoian.'"

"Ye are no 'Khoi Khoian' (Hottentots, as Bushmen often like to style themselves), but San (Bushmen), and of these parts. Therefore, answer me where is he, that scarred one?"

They squatted on their haunches before me, looking at me furtively from their little slits of eyes, muttering to each other afraid.

"Master, we fear," they said reluctantly. "He is a great witch, that 'old one' we know him well. Often does he cross the dunes where even we dare not go where no man goes!"

"Seek him," I ordered.

"No! no!" they said again, "he leaves no spoor and we fear. It is not well to follow that 'old one'!"

And search as I could, no spoor did I find.

But what I did find, there on my blanket beside my pillow, was a big, blue, uncut diamond, together with a scrap of paper bearing the one word "Farewell."



THE SALTING OF THE GREAT NORTH-EASTERN FIELDS



THE SALTING OF THE GREAT NORTH-EASTERN FIELDS



CHAPTER I



To be "broke to the world" was by no means a new experience to Dick Sydney, and as he sat on the sandy shore near Luderitzbucht and watched the setting sun turn the broad ocean into molten gold, he was little troubled by the fact that his last mark had been spent an hour or two back for a very belated and necessary breakfast, and that he was now absolutely penniless. Always an optimist, Dick easily outdid the immortal Micawber in his faith in something turning up just when things looked their blackest, and he had literally no thought for the morrow, until his hand, mechanically groping in his pocket for the wherewithal to fill his pipe, advised him of the fact that even his "baccy" was finished.

This was serious, for Dick's old battered briar rarely left his mouth; and whilst the odoriferous Boer equivalent for the "divine weed" held out, food and drink were but minor considerations. But something must be done now, so, knocking out the ashes from his last whiff, and with one more futile grope in his capacious pocket, he stuck his empty pipe in his mouth, rose, stretched himself, and, glancing once more at the pageant of the western sky, turned back towards the contemptible collection of tin shanties, drinking saloons, empty beer-bottles, and Germans, known as Luderitzbucht.

A few months back, the discovery of diamonds had brought fame to this wind-swept wilderness, and fame had been immediately followed by the choicest collection of cosmopolitan scoundreldom that a mining "rush" had ever been responsible for.

Now Dick Sydney, though a man of variegated experience and a bit of a "hard case," was still passing honest, and a gentleman; and he soon found that he stood but little chance in Luderitzbucht. His modest capital, which he had hoped to increase in this new Diamondopolis, had vanished within a few weeks of his arrival, swallowed up by shares in diamond-fields that existed only in the vivid imagination of the swindling "company-promoters" or so-called "prospectors," who infested the place; and when his illusions of easily-made wealth had vanished also, and he had tried to obtain a billet, he had failed utterly.

His knock-about experiences had included several spells of gold- prospecting and mining in California and other wild spots, and, being as hard as nails, he was admirably suited to the life of a prospector, and prospectors were being paid large salaries in those early days of the diamond rush in German South-West Africa. But, unfortunately for himself, Dick possessed a constitutional but at times embarrassing prejudice against lying, and in his numerous applications about prospecting jobs had made no secret of the fact that his prospecting had never been for diamonds.

And as a result he had had to stand aside and see all sorts of gentry taken on for the numerous expeditions that were constantly being arranged: runaway seamen, cooks, stewards, and stokers from the ships, gangers and navvies from the railways, ne'er-do-wells of all descriptions, with but here and there an old "river digger," or genuine prospector to leaven the lump.

Added to his stubborn and uncompromising honesty, Dick possessed another trait which severely handicapped him in this German-governed dust-hole of creation, in that he was uncompromisingly British, and took no pains to conceal the fact; and here in Luderitzbucht the arrogance of the German officials, and the way in which they boasted of Their Army, and Their Kaiser, and Their Beer, and Their Sauerkraut, and, in short, of every product of their whole blamed Fatherland, exasperated Dick to a degree. Though not very big, he was a bundle of muscle and sinew, and already he had been fined heavily for making a mess of one or two spread-eagled Teutons who had been unwise enough to mistake his quiet manner for timidity.

Dick strolled back over the low-lying sand-dunes to the little township, where lights were already twinkling in the stores and beer- halls; and, passing the largest of these, he suddenly realized that he was thirsty, and, momentarily forgetting the state of his finance, he turned into the bar for a bottle of beer. The brightly-lit room was full of people, naturally mostly Germans, who, whilst imbibing vast quantities of their national beverage, were singing, bragging and swearing at the top of their voices, and after the manner of their kind. At the farther end of the room a big corpulent swashbuckler was holding forth loudly to a circle of admiring cronies; his peroration was an introduction to a toast; that toast was "To the Day!"

Dick had heard it frequently of late; in fact, wherever Germans and beer came together, that toast was being drank at the time.

"The Day!" . . . Dick, and every other Britisher knew what "Day" was meant, and as a rule took but little notice of these fire-eating gas- bags; anyway, though he understood German, he spoke it but little. And so he stood quietly imbibing his bottle of beer whilst Bombastus Furiosis still held forth. His quiet attitude evidently misled the orator, whose guttural German became mixed with quite enough English to make his remarks perfectly understandable to the few Britishers amongst the crowd.

Boasting and bragging, and with his discourse liberally garnished with "Donner-wetters," and such-like meteorological expressions dear to the Teuton, this big chap let the world at large know what would happen on the great "Day"; when the whole "schwein-hund" Englander nation would, at long last, be knocked sky-high and to everlasting flinders by the ineffable and invincible Army of Kaiser Wilhelm II.

Dick got tired of the drunken man's blatant boasting, and finished his beer with the intention of leaving the bar before he lost his temper, but as he put down the empty mug he realized with consternation that he had not the wherewithal to pay for the drink! He stood embarrassed and irresolute. What could he say to excuse himself how explain before this crowd of contemptuous Germans?

At that moment, however, something happened to put the matter out of his mind entirely. The orator had gone one better, and was now describing what various kinds of "schwein-hunden" all Britishers were, and those in Luderitzbucht in particular, when suddenly a small man, who had been sitting quietly in a corner of the room, left his seat, and, walking up to the group, called out, "'Ere, you with the mouth! Shut yer fat head abaht Englishmen or I'll make yer! I'm English. Wot yer got to say abaht it?"

A roar of laughter went up from the Germans, any of whom looked big enough to eat the small man. Dick pushed nearer to the group. He knew the chap now—he was a little Cockney Jew, a bookmaker, horse-dealer, and what not, scarcely the kind of chap to be expected to show pluck and patriotism, yet these are often met with in the most unexpected places. There he stood, opposite a German big enough to eat him and in fluent Cockney he proceeded to tell that big man more about himself than is good for any fat man to know.

Of course it could not last long. The jeering laughter changed to threats and curses, and then suddenly the colossus made a terrific round-arm all-embracing swipe at that small man, calculated to obliterate him once for all. But he wasn't there when it arrived; and, to Dick's joy and amazement, he saw the little Jew dodge in under the stroke, and with a spring and a lightning blow on the point bring down the big bully with a crash to the floor.

"A boxer, by gad!" yelled Dick, capering with excitement; "bravo, little 'un!" But the small man's victory was only that of a moment. The next the whole crowd had flung themselves upon him, and the miniature champion of "Rule Britannia" was borne to the ground in the centre of a whirl of legs, arms, chairs, bottles, and the other weapons usually preferred by the German larrikin to bare fists.

Dick could stand no more, and the members of that Peace Conference must have thought about that time that a cyclone had struck them.

It was no time for fancy boxing. Two men who faced Dick went down like ninepins before a terrific left and right between wind and water; a big Bavarian hero brandishing a beer-bottle collapsed with a sudden and acute attack of knee-in-the-stomach; and a strong and handy chair coming to Dick's hand in the nick of time and used as a flail, and with strict impartiality, soon did the rest. Berserk with fight, and with the plucky little Jew to help him, Dick cleared the bar till not a soul but the frightened bar-keeper and themselves stood within the locked doors. Outside they could hear the crowd yelling for the police.

"Mein Gott, mein lieber Gott! Who will pay for all der smashes?" whimpered the bar-keeper, wringing his hands, and looking round at the trail of the cyclone.

"Tell the truth abaht that big fat 'ed starting the row to the police, and I'll pay for the smash," said the little Jew. "And while we're waiting for the police let's have a drink," he continued. "Here's your health, guv'nor; blimey, but you're a bit useful in a scrap!" By this time the police were pounding at the door. "My money my money!" again pleaded the bar-keeper.

"Right-oh!" said the Jew, putting his hand in his pocket. His face changed; quickly and anxiously he searched for his pocket-book it was gone! Whilst they had had him on the floor they had improved the occasion; and his blank stare of dismay was mirrored on Dick's face as the latter remembered that he too was penniless and owed for a drink!

"Schwein-hunden! Thieves! Robbers! Dam-fools!" yelled the exasperated bar-keeper, unlocking the door for the police. That night they slept in a German prison.



CHAPTER II



Sydney could not disguise from himself the fact that the situation was rather serious. The escapade would probably mean a sentence of a stiff bout of imprisonment, or a heavy fine, and, as he was penniless, it would perforce have to be the former.

"Hang that little Yiddisher!" he growled, as he sucked at his empty pipe; "wish I'd let him get out of his trouble himself. No! I couldn't have done that. He's a plucky little beggar, and I suppose he's as bad off as myself now his pocket-book's gone. Still, I suppose something'll turn up."

His optimism was justified, for about ten o'clock the following morning he was liberated without more ado, and outside the gaol he found the little Hebrew who had been the cause of all the trouble.

"I squared 'em," explained the little man, with a grin; "sent a note along to a pal of mine who knows the ropes, and he soon got us out. Better come along and have some grub!"

"Look here," said Dick, "I'd better let you know right away that I'm dead-broke."

"Never mind," said the other; "come along and feed, and then we'll yap."

A good meal, and a good smoke after it, and the little Jew said abruptly, "Now then, Mr. Sydney, I've found out a bit about you this morning, and if you want a job, I think I can get one for you. We want a straight man for something that's on, and I think you'll do."

"I'm game," said Dick, "if it's a straight deal."

"Straight as a die," replied Solstein or "Solly," as he liked to be called. "Let's get along the beach, we can talk there!"

Pacing along the sands, with no one to hear them but the sea-gulls, and with his old briar again charged with some real God-fearing cake tobacco, Sydney heard what it was that was required of him; and there and then Solly's offer was accepted.

Two days later an expedition, outfitted regardless of expense in Johannesburg, left Luderitzbucht to carry out a systematic testing of certain distant diamond-fields recently discovered and acquired by a local syndicate, and reported to be fabulously rich, so rich that an extremely large company talked of acquiring them in turn, and those in the know hinted at a huge flotation.

Money was therefore no object, and the party was both large and well- equipped. It consisted of a diamond expert acting on behalf of the Syndicate; another expert acting on behalf of the would-be purchasers, and, incidentally, to watch the other chap; a financial representative of either side to watch proceedings; two prospectors, presumably to watch each other; a learned professor of geology to give an unbiased report of the fields; and, lastly, Dick Sydney, ostensibly in charge of the transport, but in reality to watch the whole caboodle of them.

Striking north-east, the expedition almost immediately entered a practically untraversed desert of barren sand-dunes, waterless, and both difficult and dangerous to traverse; and their animals drank nothing for the first two days. On the third, however, guided by the discovering syndicate's prospector Grosman, and by two stunted little Bushmen in his employ, they came to a deep water-hole, where the precious fluid, though "brak" (alkaline) and stagnant, was still plentiful and drinkable, and within working distance of which the newly-discovered "fields" were located. Here the dunes were interspersed with long narrow "aars," covered with fine gravel and loose stones, and here and there covered with scrubby vegetation.

Within a few days Sydney had to acknowledge that his first conclusion that there was not a single honest man in the party besides himself, was an unjust one, for the harmless and most necessary professor of geology was a notable exception.

Absorbed in his science, he passed most of his time in his tent poring over a microscope, taking very little heed, apparently, of what was going on, and he was obviously without guile and likely to be easily gulled by even the most transparent roguery. And that the others were rogues Dick grew more and more convinced, and it would have been hard to say which of the party he detested the more; Gilderman, the suave Johannesburg expert, glib, well-dressed and fastidious; Jelder, the syndicate's expert from the same locality, a rough-voiced, domineering mining engineer; Zweiter and Spattboom, the "financial" men; or Junes and Grosman, the two prospectors. On the whole, he thought, were he a free agent, he would have picked a quarrel with each and all of them for the sake of giving them individually a thrashing, and in that case the immaculate Gilderman would have been his first choice.

Each and all of them spoke English, and professed that nationality, but Dick soon decided that, with the possible exception of Junes, what wasn't German of the party was certainly Jew!

But still to all appearance everything was fair and above-board. The prospectors would point out the most likely spots to try for diamonds, the Ovampo boys would be set to work, and almost invariably they found diamonds. Occasionally one or other of the "experts" would suggest a different spot, and usually these sapient individuals would justify their reputation by finding diamonds also in these spots.

The syndicate's expert was jubilant, the company's expert apparently well satisfied, and the professor beamed upon the stones as they came from the sieve, talked learnedly of their origin and the peculiarities of the deposit they were found in, and passed a great deal of time in abstruse calculations as to the probable yield of the fields, based upon the rich finds they were making, and the genuineness of which he, obviously, never doubted.

Sydney picked up several small stones himself. The experts were always finding them, so were the financial agents; yet Dick, though for a time he could find out nothing to confirm his opinion, was convinced that the whole thing meant a gigantic swindle. A few words in French between the experts which they did not expect the "man in charge of the transport" to understand a word here, and a look there, strengthened this conviction into certainty, but still he had no proof.

Now Dick had heard of, and suffered from, more than one case of "salting" since he first came to Luderitzbucht, and the quantity of illicit diamonds in the hands of unscrupulous people made such salting a comparatively easy matter, but if it were being done in this case, it was certainly being done very thoroughly and artistically and when?

The whole party moved from place to place practically together in fact, they kept in sight of each other ostentatiously.

It must be done after dark, if at all, and Dick resolved to watch at night, as soon as he came to that conclusion. That same night, from his tiny patrol tent, he watched the lights go out one by one, until the camp lay silent, and apparently every one was asleep. And as time passed he was nodding himself, when suddenly a shadow stole silently from the tent occupied by the two prospectors, crossed to the experts' tent, and disappeared inside. Dick saw the momentary gleam of an electric torch and heard the tinkle of a bunch of keys, then the form reappeared, and, with a glance round, passed silently and rapidly out of sight across the sand-dunes.

Dick followed, the pale light from a waning moon, occasionally peeping from behind the clouds, making the pursuit an easy one.

After half an hour of rapid walking the man disappeared over a gigantic dune that Dick had noticed in the distance the previous evening, and which he had heard marked the position of the next field to be examined.

More cautiously now, and keeping well away from the man's actual spoor, Dick crept up the slope, and peered over the crest down the farther side.

The moon at that moment shone out clearly, and there, not fifty yards away from him, Dick could see the figure of Grosman the prospector. He was walking slowly up and down, now and then throwing his arm out with the action of a sower, and the seeds he sowed sparkled like dewdrops in the moonlight.

For he was sowing diamonds—salting!



CHAPTER III



Salting! there was no doubt about it.

The prospector to whom the syndicate owning the fields had entrusted the important task of locating the most likely spots on which to demonstrate their richness, had with admirable forethought forestalled that notoriously fickle jade Fortune and brought the diamonds along himself, before the remainder of the "testing" party arrived. To-morrow the whole caboodle of unbiased individuals, representing both his own party and the enormously wealthy Jo'burg financiers who were negotiating for the fields with a view to a big flotation, would come along as per schedule, and would doubtless be greatly impressed by this fresh proof of the fields' richness!

Dick lay flat on his face on the warm and accommodating sand-dune, and watched Grosman for some time: he was prodigal with the diamonds, and this was undoubtedly destined to be an exceptionally rich field.

"The question is," reasoned Dick, "how many of these swabs are in this swindle. Let's see now, it's no good letting my angry passions run away with me, and jumping on this chap as I'd like to do. I must reason this out. The other prospector sleeps in the same tent sometimes disagrees with this chap as to the best place to test. In that case yes! they've always tried and found in both places. And they sleep in the same tent. They're both in it. Same with the experts, both in the same tent, and they keep the diamonds. That's what this swab went to them to-night for. And Zweiter and Spattboom, well, no one could be honest with faces like theirs. Blazes! They're all in it, and all this elaborate business is just to artistically fool the old professor—he's not part of the swindle, anyway."

That was it undoubtedly. The old professor, who, simple as a child in many things, had yet a name famous the world over; he it was that this precious crowd of scoundrels were deceiving so elaborately he it was whose word of the genuineness of the finds would carry weight with the financiers and when the time became ripe would rope in the guileless public.

Well, he, Dick, would have to take a hand in it, but it would require caution; moreover, Solly to whom he owed his job had told him at parting:

"We don't want no experience, just you watch all of these blighters and find out what their game is, and lie low that's all!"

His diamond sowing finished, Grosman sat down, took off his veldtschoens and knocked out the sand, loaded up his pipe, and with a sigh of contentment which the pipeless and tobacco-loving Dick heard and appreciated, turned back towards the camp.

Luckily Dick old hand on the plains of countries where it is not considered healthy to be found on the home trail of a man one watches at night had taken the precaution to crawl aside sufficiently to give this "Knave of diamonds" a wide berth; and he lay inert and silent as the dead till Grosman was well on his homeward journey, before following him to a well-earned spell of sleep.