A Rip Van Winkle of the Kalahari, and other tales of South-West Africa

THE LIBRARY

OF

THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA

LOS ANGELES

A RIP VAN WINKLE OF THE KALAHARI AND
OTHER TALES OF SOUTH-WEST AFRICA

A RIP VAN WINKLE OF
THE KALAHARI

AND OTHER TALES OF SOUTH-WEST
AFRICA

BY

FRED C. CORNELL

CAPETOWN : T. MASKEW MILLER
LONDON : T. FISHER UNWIN, LTD.

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G>0 05"

CONTENTS

TAGS.

PREFACE ...... "7

A RIP VAN WINKLE OF THE KALAHARI :

INTRODUCTORY- - * 13

CHAPTER I. - 21

II- - - 32

in. - 44

IV. - - 56

v. - - - - - 75

„ VI. - .... QO

„ vii. 109

vin. - - 123

ix. - - 136

THE SALTING OF THE GREAT NORTH-EASTERN
FIELDS, BEING AN EPISODE IN THE
LIFE OF DICK SYDNEY, PROSPECTOR I

CHAPTER I. - - 153

II. - - 162

„ III. - - 169

iv. - - 189

v. 209

1202817

vi CONTENTS

PAO*

THE FOLLOWER - - 231

THE PROOF - 247

"BUSHMAN'S PARADISE" - - - 267

" THE DRINK OF THE DEAD "- - 289

THE WATERS OF ERONGO ... 309

PREFACE

MOST of these stories were written on the veldt ;
at odd times, in out-of-the-way prospecting camps,
in the wilds of the Kalahari Desert, or of that
equally little-known borderland between Klein
Namaqualand, and Gordonia, Cape Colony, and
what was at that time known as German South-
West Africa.

Four of them appeared a few years back in The
State — an illustrated magazine now unhappily
defunct : the others, though written about the same
time, have never been published.

And now, time and circumstances have combined
to bring the scene in which they are laid most
prominently before the public.

Through the dangerous and difficult barrier of
the desert sandbelt that extends all along the coast,
General Botha and his formidable columns forced
their way to Windhuk ; from the remote lower
reaches of the Orange River other troops steadily
and relentlessly pushed north ; and even to the
east the well-nigh unexplored dunes of the southern
Kalahari proved no safeguard to the Germans, for

7

8 PREFACE

Union forces invaded them even there : and all
eyes jn South Africa are to-day turned towards this
new addition to the Union and the Empire.

Whilst imagination has naturally played the chief
part in these tales, the descriptions given of certain
parts of this little-known region are accurate, and by
no means overdrawn ; at the same time, though
they treat principally of the dangerous and waterless
desert, it must be borne in mind that although the
sand dunes form one of Damaraland's most striking
features, yet it is by no means altogether the barren,
scorching dust-heap it is popularly believed to be.

For once the sand region bordering the coast
is traversed, and the higher plateau begins, vegeta-
tion and water become more abundant, the climate
is magnificent, and cattle, sheep and goats thrive ;
whilst in the north — much of which remains practic-
ally unexplored — there is much fruitful and well-
watered country teeming with game, and akin to
Rhodesia, awaiting the settler.

Mining and stockraising are the two great possi-
bilities in this new country, where water conditions
are never likely to allow of extensive agriculture
being carried out successfully.

But above all — mining ! For much of the country
— and especially the north — is very highly mineral-
ised. Copper abounds ; tin and gold have been

PREFACE 9

found — and there can be but little doubt that the
former will eventually be located in abundance —
and, above all, the diamond fields of the south-west
coastal belt have since their discovery in 1908
added enormously both to the value of the country
and to its attractiveness.

To refer again to these tales ; the description of
Rip Van Winkle's ride through the desert, the
sand-storm, the huge salt " pans," and indeed
most of the earlier incidents, have been but common-
place experiences of my own in the wastes of the
southern Kalahari, slightly altered for the purposes
of the story. Even the " poison flowers " exist
there — and no Bushman will sleep among them,
beautiful as they are. And lest the huge diamond
in the head of the " Snake " in the same story be
considered an impossibility, let it be borne in mind
that the Cullinan — enormous as it was — was but
the fragment of a monster that must have been
every whit as big as the one I describe. The
cataclysm is also a possibility ; for although rain
falls but seldom in the desert, there are occasional
thunderstorms of extraordinary violence, and I
have seen wide stretches of the Kalahari near the
dry bed of the extinct Molopo River (long since
choked, and part of the desert) converted into a
broad deep lake, after a cloudburst lasting but an

io PREFACE

hour or so, which drowned hundreds of head of
cattle.

The incident in " Dick Sydney," of the fracas in
the bar where the Germans were toasting to " The
Day," was not written after war was declared,
but one night in Luderitzbucht full three years ago,
after hearing that toast drunk publicly in the
manner described, and after witnessing a very
similar ending to it ! And that particular story was
refused by the then editor of The State, as being too
anti-German ! Well — times have indeed changed !

And lest a prospective " Dick Sydney " should
think that the picture of that individual picking
up a thousand carats of diamonds in an hour or so
is far-fetched, let me assure him that the first dis-
coverers of the Pomona fields, south of Luderitz-
bucht, did literally fill their pockets with the precious
stones in that space of time : and that other fields
as rich may well await discovery will be denied
by few who know the country.

" Ex Africa semper aliquid novo " — never was
saying truer ! — and Damaraland, under the British
flag, and with scope given to individual enterprise,
may well provide still another striking example of
that old adage.

FRED C. CORNELL.

Cape Town, 1915.

A RIP VAN WINKLE OF THE KALAHARI

INTRODUCTORY

THE manner of my meeting with him was strange
in the extreme, and a fitting prelude to the wild
and fantastic story he told me.

I had been trading and elephant shooting in
Portuguese territory in Southern Angola ; and
hearing from my boys that ivory was plentiful in
German territory, farther south, I had crossed the
Kunene River into Amboland ; and here, sure
enough, I found elephants and ivory galore. So
good, indeed, was both sport and trade in this
country of the Ovampos that by the time I reached
Etosha Pau my " trade " goods had vanished,
and my wagon was heavily laden with fine tusks.
So far had I penetrated into German territory that
I decided to make my way south-west towards
Walfisch Bay instead of returning to Portuguese
territory. But I knew I must rest my cattle well
before attempting it, for it would mean an arduous
trek ; I had no guide, and there were no roads ; for
at the time I speak of, the Germans had done but
little to open up the northern part of their territory ;

13

I4 INTRODUCTORY

and indeed even to the present day much of it still
remains unexplored.

It is a wild and beautiful country, for the greater
part well-wooded, and teeming with game ; though
towards the east it becomes drier and sandier until
there stretches before the traveller nothing but the
endless dunes of the unknown Kalahari desert.

Untraversed, unexplored, and mysterious, this
land of "The Great Thirst" had always held a
great fascination for me ; its outlying dunes began
but a few miles east of my camp, and from an
isolated granite kopje near their border I had often
gazed across the apparently limitless sea of sand :
stretching as far as the eye could reach to where
the dancing shimmer of the mirage linked sand and
sky on the far horizon.

It was along the edge of these dunes that I one
day followed a wounded eland so far that dusk
overtook me a long distance from my wagon.
My waterbottle was full, there was abundance of
dry wood for a fire, and I was just debating whether
I would try and get back to the wagon, or camp
where I was, when my horse solved the question
for me by shying violently at something, and
throwing me clean out of the saddle.

My head must have struck a stone, for I was
stunned, and for a time I knew no more. . . .

INTRODUCTORY 15

When I came to myself it was dark, but a bright
fire was burning near me, a blanket covered me, and
I was lying upon something soft. Evidently some
one was caring for me, and I concluded that my
boys had found me — though I had given them
strict instructions not to leave the wagon.

" Jantje ! Kambala ! " I called, but there was
no answer, and I tried to rise. But my hurt had
apparently been a severe one, for my head spun
round, the fire danced before my eyes, and I again
lost consciousness.

When next I awoke the fire was still burning,
and a figure was seated beside it : a figure that
the leaping flames rendered monstrous and distorted.
The back was towards me, but at the slight rustle
I made upon my bed of dry leaves in awakening,
the figure turned in my direction, and I caught a
momentary glimpse of the face. Firelight plays
strange tricks sometimes, but the momentary flicker
showed me a countenance so grotesque that I must
have made an involuntary movement of surprise,
for with a short laugh the unknown man rose and
came towards me, saying as he did so, " Don't be
scared — even the devil isn't as black as he's
painted!" And, whoever he was, the way in
which he tended to my throbbing head, advising
me not to talk, but to rest and sleep, soon

16 INTRODUCTORY

soothed my shaken nerves, and I slept again till
broad daylight.

I could hear the low murmur of voices, and
sitting up, I saw that Jantje and Kambala had put
in an appearance and were talking in an unknown
tongue to my friend of the night before — a white
man, but surely the strangest-looking being I had
ever beheld.

First of all he was a hunchback, and his body
was twisted and distorted to a remarkable degree —
yet in spite of his curved shoulders he was of more
than average height, and of a breadth incredible.
But his face ! — who can describe it ? Seamed and
scarred in deep gashes, as though by some hideous
torture, the nose broken and flattened almost upon
the cheek, there remained but little human about
the awful countenance except the eyes. But these,
as I found later, were of a beauty and expressiveness
to make one forget their terrible setting. Large,
pellucid, of a bright hazel, there was something
magnetic in their straight and honest gaze ; and I
can well believe that before he met with his awful
disfigurement their owner must have been a man
of superb appearance.

As I moved, he came towards me, holding out
his hand as he did so, and a fine, warm-hearted grip
he gave me.

INTRODUCTORY 17

" Better, eh ? " he said. " No — don't get up ;
you've had an ugly smack, and must take care
of yourself for a bit. And I'm afraid," he con-
tinued, as he sat down beside me, " that I was
the cause of your accident — for your horse shied
at me, and you came near breaking your neck ! "

" Shied at you ? " I queried, in surprise — for
there was scarce cover for a cat just where I had
been thrown — " but where were you, then — I never
saw you ? "

" No, but I saw you," he replied grimly, " and
having been the cause of your downfall, I could
do no less than look after you till your boys
came."

Thus strangely began an acquaintance that lasted
only all too short a time, but that was full of interest
for me ; for I found my new friend to be a remark-
able man in more ways than in appearance. His
knowledge of the region we were in was wonderful,
the few natives we met treated him with every
sign of respect and fear, and he seemed equally
conversant with their language, as with that of my
own boys, Jantje the Hottentot, and Kambala
the Herero.

The habits of the game, the properties of each
bush and shrub, each game-path and water-hole,
he knew them all, and had something interesting

B

i8 INTRODUCTORY

to say about all of them ; and the few days of our
companionship were pleasant in the extreme.

I never knew his name, and had it not been that
chance came to my aid, I should probably never
have heard his strange history. But it so happened
that a few days after our first meeting, a buffalo,
with the finest horns I had ever seen, got up within
twenty yards of us ; and in my eagerness to secure
his wonderful head, I shot badly, and only succeeded
in wounding him slightly. His terrific charge was
a thing to be remembered.

Straight at us he came, wild with rage, and
my new friend's horse, gored and screaming, went
down before him in a flash. The rider was thrown,
and to my horror, before I could control my own
frightened animal sufficiently to enable me to shoot,
the bull was upon the fallen man, goring and
trampling upon him in an awful manner. Leaping
from my horse, I put bullet after bullet through the
big bull's head, and at length he lurched forward,
dead, upon the mangled body of his victim.

We had some difficulty in extricating the man,
and never expected to find him alive, but though
badly crushed and torn he still breathed, and
naturally I did all I could to save his life.

That night he was delirious, and it was then that
I had evidence of the almost superhuman strength

INTRODUCTORY 19

with which he was endowed. Time after time he
tore himself from the combined strength of my two
sturdy boys, and always he raved of diamonds, and
of a never-ending search for something, or some one,
in the desert.

His hurts were sufficient to have killed half a dozen
men, and I never expected him to live ; but two
days later he was able to tell the natives, in their
own tongue, of certain herbs which they prepared
under his direction, and in a week he was about
again.

His cure was nothing short of miraculous — in my
eyes at least — but he made light of his own share
in the matter, and was all gratitude for the little I
had been able to do to atone for the result of my
bad shooting. And one night, by the camp fire,
and with very little preamble, he told me the follow-
ing strange story, which I have set down as nearly
as possible in his own words.

A RIP VAN WINKLE OF THE
KALAHARI

CHAPTER I
THE BLUE DIAMOND

DIAMONDS first brought me to this country — a small
glass phial full of them in the hands of an old sailor
who had been shipwrecked on the South-west
African coast, somewhere in the vicinity of Cape
Cross, and who had spent many months wandering
with the Bushmen who found him, before he even-
tually worked his way back safely to Walfisch Bay.
Here one of the rare whalers, that occasionally
called at that little-known spot, eventually picked
him up, and he at length got back to Liverpool,
with nothing but his tiny packet of little bright
stones to show for all his months of hardship among
the Bushmen.

The ignorant whalers had laughed at his assertion
that the little crystals were of any value ; as at

31

22 A RIP VAN WINKLE

that time diamonds were undreamed of in South
Africa ... for all this was long, long ago. . . .

Chance threw me in the old man's way, and a
small service I was able to render him led to his
showing me the stones. He had been in Brazil
and had seen rough diamonds there ; and I too —
who had also dug in the fields of Minhas Geraes —
saw at once that he was right : they were diamonds.

I had money, but I wanted more ; for there was
a girl for whom I had sworn to make a fortune, and
who in turn had sworn to wait for me — poor girl !
She little knew how long that wait would be, or
the kind of wreck that would return to her at last. . . .
And even as I poured the little glittering cascade
of diamonds that old Anderson had found from
one hand to the other, my mind was made up.

" Anderson," I said, " come out with me to
Africa again, man ; we can make ourselves rich
men ! Of course, there must be more where these
came from ? "

" More ! " said the hard-bitten old seaman, who
was as brown and withered as the Bushmen he had
lived amongst so long ; " More, is it ? Why, sir,
there's bushels of them in a valley as I knows of
out there ; so many that I couldn't believe myself
that they was diamonds, so I only brought a few !
But there they can stay for me. ... No more

OF THE KALAHARI 23

Bushmen for me, thank'ee ; they'd put a poisoned
arrow through me if ever they saw me again. But
if you want to go, well and good ; I'll tell you
where to find the diamonds ! "

And the upshot was that I sailed for the Cape a
week later, and a few months afterwards I landed
at Walfisch Bay, from whence I intended trekking
north in search of the Golconda old Anderson had
described to me.

At that time, with the exception of a few traders,
hunters, and missionaries near the coast, the
country was uninhabited by white men ; moreover,
it was in a state of turmoil. From the north-east,
a powerful Bantu race — the Damaras, or Ovaherero
as they term themselves — had been gradually
spreading over the land south and west, and had
just come in contact with the Namaquas, a Hottentot
race who had come from the south. The result
had been a series of bloody native wars, in which
neither race could for long claim decided advantage.
Meanwhile the aboriginal Bushmen of the country
had been almost exterminated, scattered tribes of
them only remaining in the most inaccessible parts
of the country. It was towards these wild people
that my path lay, and the few settlers I met warned
me that my trip was likely to be a dangerous one.

" And you have nothing to gain ! " they pointed

24 A RIP VAN WINKLE

out, " these Bushmen have no cattle — no ivory —
nothing ! They are but vermin, and a poisoned
arrow is all you are likely to get from them." But,
secure in my knowledge of the riches awaiting me,
I was not to be deterred ; and there came a day
when my wagon, loaded with a goodly stock of
" trade " goods, trekked from the sands of Walfish
Bay towards the then unknown country lying to
the north. Rain had fallen and I found the trek
by no means as difficult as I had expected, for I
had good native guides, and for a time all went well.
But gradually the long sandy stretches were left
behind, and the country became extremely difficult.
On all sides rose vast table-topped mountains with
almost perpendicular sides, and the wide valleys
between them gradually narrowed till they became
nothing but deep, narrow, precipitous gorges, im-
passable for a wagon. Deep we penetrated into
this tangle of mountains, endeavouring in vain to
find a way through in the direction I believed the
valley to lie, and at length it became evident that
to% proceed farther with the wagon was out of the
question. Here, therefore, in a well-wooded kloof,
with an abundance of water, I made my central
camp ; and from it I proceeded to explore the
country farther north. By this time the wild
Bushmen, who had hitherto fled at our approach,

OF THE KALAHARI 25

had gained confidence, and came freely to the
camp, and I had guides in plenty. For a time
their extraordinary "click" language was utterly
beyond my comprehension, but at length I learnt
enough of it to make them understand what I
wished to find.

But search as I would I could never find the spot :
valley after valley they took me to, krantz after
krantz, and kloof after kloof, I scrambled through
and searched, but all in vain. Mineral wealth I
found everywhere, copper and tin in abundance,
and in one deep valley rich nuggets of gold, but
still the diamonds evaded me. Nor did I ever find
them, though I am sure that Anderson's tale was
true, and that somewhere in those mountains lie
diamonds galore. It may be that they are now
buried deep in the sand ; for at times the wind
blows with incredible force ; and in the terrific
sandstorms, huge dunes are lifted and swept across
the country ; and it may well be that the deep
valley of his day is now filled to the level of its walls.

Sick and disheartened I determined at last to
offer a big reward to any of the guides who should
bring in a diamond to me ; and calling them all
together, I made them understand as much ; at
the same time showing one of the little diamonds
that Anderson had given me. A trade musket,

26 A RIP VAN WINKLE

with powder and shot, was to be the reward ; and
as this was a prize beyond the dreams of these
poor Bushmen there was a general exodus from the
camp in search of the " bright stones." From
their excited exclamations when I showed them the
diamond, I gathered that they had all seen such
stones, and I cheered myself with the hope that at
last I should be rewarded for all my hardships.
But, alas ! they brought in " bright stones "
truly — bright stones in abundance — but quartz
crystals chiefly ; bright, clear, and sparkling, but
of course utterly valueless ; and though I sent
them out again and again, they brought nothing
in of any value.

Amongst my boys, who had followed me from
Walfisch Bay, was one Inyati, who was much attached
to me, and who had become a sort of body-servant
to me. He was a fine upstanding chap who held
himself absolutely aloof from the Griquas and
Hottentots that formed the bulk of my paid fol-
lowers, and to whose oblique eyes, and pepper-corn
wool his expressive orbs and shock of crinkled
hair formed an agreeable contrast. As for the
Bushmen, Inyati treated them, and looked upon
them, absolutely as dogs. He was a good game
spoorer, and I had taught him to shoot ; and so
intelligent was he, that I had taken a great interest

OF THE KALAHARI 27

in him, and had learnt to talk to him in his own
tongue — a sonorous, expressive language entirely
different to the peculiar " click " of the local natives.
I knew that his dearest wish was to possess a gun of
his own, and fully expected that he too would wish
to join in the search that might lead to his gaining
one ; but, though he had examined the stones I
had shown far more intently than any of them, he
made no effort to leave the camp. Day after day
he attended to my simple wants, spending all his
spare time in polishing my weapons, a work he
absolutely loved, and crooning interminable songs
in a low monotone.

One day, when the Bushmen had again trooped
off on their fruitless search, I called Inyati ; and
told him to make certain preparations, as, should
they again bring in nothing, I would strike camp
and return to Walfisch Bay. And then I asked
him, out of curiosity, why he had not tried to earn
the gun.

" Master," said he, scraping away at the hollow
shin-bone of a buck that served him as a pipe, as
a broad hint that his tobacco was finished ; "I
know not the land of these dogs of Bushmen. If
it were in my own land now ! But that is far
away ! "

I laughed, for by his manner of saying it, he

28 A RIP VAN WINKLE

conveyed the impression that there he could pick
up diamonds under every bush.

" Dogs they may be, Inyati," I answered him,
" but they are dogs with keen eyes ; and yet they
cannot find the stones I seek, and that I know, too,
are not far away ! " He stood, nodding gravely
at my words, and still fidgeting with his bone
pipe ; a splendid figure of a man, nude except for
his leopard-skin loin-cloth, his skin clear and glossy,
of a golden-brown — for he was no darker than,
but entirely different from, the yellow Hottentots.

" Master," said he ; " what magic will my master
make with the little bright stones, should he find
them ? "

" No magic, Inyati," said I, " but in my country,
across the great water, these things are worth many
muskets, cattle — aye, and even wives ! "

" That may be, my master," he replied, " but
magic they are ; and hide themselves when dogs
such as these Bushmen search for them. Still,
master, we will wait and see what they bring
to-night ; though well I know that they will come
back with empty hands — as empty as is this — my
pipe ! "

I could not help laughing at the way in which
he had brought the subject of his finished tobacco
to my notice, and in a fit of unwonted generosity

OF THE KALAHARI 29

I not only gave him a span of tobacco, but also a
cheap pipe from my " trade " goods.

Poor chap, it was the first he had ever had, for
his shin-bone had served him hitherto, and his
delight was unmistakable. An hour later I saw
him still at his everlasting polishing, and with the
new pipe in full blast ; and now he was crooning
not only its praises, but my own. Half his im-
provised song was unintelligible to me, but I under-
stood enough to learn that when the " dogs of
Bushmen " had failed, he, Inyati — " The Snake "
— would lead me to a land where there were magic
stones in abundance, and by means of which, I
gathered, we should both obtain wives galore !

I laughed at the poor chap's foolish bombast, as
I thought it ; but I have often wondered since
whether the gift of that cheap pipe did not, after
all, alter the whole of my life.

For that evening, sure enough, the Bushmen
again returned empty-handed, and acting on my
former resolve, I called my own followers together,
and told them to make ready to return to Walfisch
Bay. Later, as I sat in my tent writing up my
diary by the light of a fee^ble candle, and with the
gloomiest of thoughts for company, I heard Inyati's
voice outside. " Master," he said, in a low tone
but little above a whisper, " the dogs are full of

30 A RIP VAN WINKLE

meat, and sleeping ; and there is that which I
would show thee."

Without feeling much interest in what he might
have got I bade him enter, and he stood before me
in the dim light of my tallow candle.

Fumbling in his leopard skin, he drew forth a
little tortoiseshell, such as the Hottentot women
use for holding the hare's foot, ochre, buchu leaves,
and other mysteries of their toilet. I had often
seen him with it, and had chaffed him about carrying
it before, and he evidently anticipated something
of the kind again.

" Nay, master," he said, before I could speak,
" true, as thou sayest, it is a woman's box, and a
woman gave it me. But the box is naught — this
is what I would show my master."

He shook something from the little box into the
palm of his hand, clenched it, and with a dramatic
gesture thrust it close to the dim light, and threw
his fingers wide.

There, glittering in the yellow palm, flashing
and scintillating with every movement, and looking
as though the light it gathered and reflected really
burnt in its liquid depths, lay the most marvellous
diamond I had ever beheld !

The size of a small walnut, flawless, blue-tinted,
and of wondrous lustre and beauty, its many

OF THE KALAHARI 31

facets were as brilliantly polished as though fresh
from the hands of the cutter, though it was
a " rough " stone, untouched except by nature.

I was too stunned to speak, or do anything but
clutch it, and gloat over it, and mutter — "Where?
where ? "

CHAPTER II

DEAD MEN IN THE DUNES

I DON'T know how long I gazed in fascination at
•the wonderful stone, but at length a low chuckle
from Inyati brought me back to reality. He stood
looking at me, with a whimsical smile on his face.

" Magic," said he, " magic, my master ! Did I
not say there was magic in these ' bright stones ' ?
And who shall say it is not so ? Has not my master
for a whole moon been lifeless and sad, until he
looked even as the old cow that died of lung-sick
but yesterday ? And has not the very sight of the
magic stone again brought fire to his eye, till he is
again even as the young bull that killed two of those
Bushmen dogs also but yesterday ? Who shall say
it is not magic ? "

" Inyati," I stammered, coming back to my
senses, and ignoring his extremely doubtful com-
pliments, " speak, man ; where did you get this ? "

" In my own land, master ; a far land, many
moons' trek from here, and where there are many.

32

A RIP VAN WINKLE OF THE KALAHARI 33

But few dare touch them — except indeed the devil-
men — and they are not men at all, but devils I
Though I feared them little even then . . . and
now — now that I have a gun (for surely my master
will give me the little gun that speaks many times
for this magic stone ?) I fear them not at all ! And
we will go back and get many more — if my master
so wishes — and I will see again the woman who
gave me the stone — as a talisman — long years
ago ! "...

Give him " the little gun that speaks many
times " — the Winchester — for a diamond worth a
king's ransom ?

" Inyati," I said, though I was sorely tempted,
" the gun is thine ; not indeed for the stone, for
that I will not take from thee, and it is worth more
than all the guns and cattle I possess. But for the
gun, guide thou me to this land of thine, that I may
find these stones thou callest magic."

" That will I do readily, master," he answered,
•' and, in truth, I am well content to keep the stone,
for the sake of the woman who gave it me. . . .
And there are many more ! And did I not say
truthfully that the stones were magic ? See now,
my master, the very sight of one has made my
master give me the desire of my heart — the little
gun that speaks many times."

c

34 A RIP VAN WINKLE

I gave him the Winchester there and then, and
never did I see a human being so delighted.

Late into the night we sat and talked, and planned,
whilst the Bushmen sat round their camp fire, and
clucked and chattered in their queer-sounding
speech, gorging themselves to repletion on the offal
of an eland I had shot the previous day.

I learnt that Inyati's country lay far to the north-
east, across the dreaded waterless stretches of the
unknown Kalahari. He had fled from it years
ago, his life forfeit to the priests — or " devil-men "
as he called them — for some cause that he did not
explain, or that my limited knowledge of his
language did not permit of my understanding.
The stones were plentiful, that he assured me of
again and again, but they were sacred, or tabooed,
and no one was allowed to handle them but the
priests of whom he spake.

He had always wanted to return, but had always
feared — but now — with his " little gun " I believe
Inyati would cheerfully have faced a thousand
priests, or for the matter of that a thousand warriors.
Danger there would be, but what was that to him —
and his master ?

He could find his way back, though the journey
would be long and difficult ; and now was the only
season in which it could be undertaken ; the season

OF THE KALAHARI 35

when the wild melon made it possible to
traverse the waterless wastes of the " Great Thirst
Land."

I did not hesitate a moment, in fact no wink of
sleep had I that night, but lay tossing and turning,
longing for daylight to come that I might inspan
and commence my long trek.

It came at last, my preparations for striking
camp were soon made, and sending off my crowd of
Bushmen camp-followers with a small present of
tobacco, I turned my back to the sea and began
my long journey to the north-east.

Out of the long denies and valleys we threaded
our way into the open country, past the huge flat-
topped mountains of Ombokoro, the fastness of the
Berg Damaras, thence following the dry river-bed
of the Om-Mafako north-east to the confines of
the Omaheke desert — that great north-western
outlier of the true Kalahari — not far, indeed, from
this very spot 1 So far the trek had been slow and
tedious, but without untoward incident. We were
well armed, and those natives who did not avoid
us were only too eager to bring in food, or show
us water in return for our trade goods.

But, as the broken, bushy country gave way to
the sand, water became scarcer and scarcer, until
it could only be obtained in small quantities by

36 A RIP VAN WINKLE

digging deep in the bone-dry bed of the parched-

up river.

At length it became evident that we could take
the wagon and oxen no farther ; and so, at some
Bushmen water-pits, at the every edge of the desert,
where " toa " grass and other fodder was still
plentiful, I decided to leave both vehicle and beasts
in charge of my Hottentot and Griqua followers,
and attempt the desert journey on horseback, and
accompanied only by Inyati. Indeed there was
no other course ; for the few " pans " that might
contain water on the route we should have to follow,
were far between, and, as the season was late, even
they might well be dry. " T'samma," therefore,
the wild melon that serves for food and water for
both man and beast in these desert stretches,
would be our only resource ; but even in this respect
the lateness of the season was a source of anxiety,
for, as you doubtless know, when once it is over-
ripe the t'samma is useless.

Two riding and two pack horses were all there-
fore that we dare take ; on the latter we loaded
food, ammunition, spare arms and trade goods ;
and with our skin water-bags filled, one evening
when the moon was nearly at its full, we bade good-
bye to our little band, and struck due east across
the desert.

OF THE KALAHARI 37

Our plan was to hold in that direction as long as
t'samma was abundant ; and should it fail, to
attempt to reach one of the " pans " Inyati had
discovered in his flight across the desert years before,
and which the strange instinct of locality — common
to all natives of these wastes — would probably enable
him to find again.

All night long we rode slowly and steadily through
the dunes which were here favourable to our course ;
for their long parallel lines ran like the waves of the
sea, almost due east and west, as far as the eye could
reach, and we were able to ride in the " aars " —
or narrow valleys — between them and make good
progress.

So far vegetation of a sort was still abundant,
tufted " toa " grass, sorrel, and other succulent
plants offered juicy fodder for the horses, and I
began to think that this much-dreaded desert was
a desert but in name, and that our task was to be a
light one. With dawn we off-saddled. From the
summit of a high dune I looked round in all direc-
tions, and as far as the eye could reach could see
nothing but the endless monotony of wave after
wave of dunes, treeless, and apparently almost
devoid of vegetation, for the little there was, was
confined to the deep hollows between.
A short distance away a fair-sized bush offered a

38 A RIP VAN WINKLE

modicum of shade, and here we rested for the day —
for we had planned to travel only in the cool of the
night as long as the moon served. And here Inyati
showed me how to make water from the young green
t'samma, taking those the size of an orange only,
and roasting them in the ashes, and thus turning
their pulp into a clear liquid like water. Seldom
though did we trouble to do this, eating the insipid
cucumber-like fruit as we found it, but though
refreshing and capable of supporting life, the longing
for water is always present in the desert.

And thus, trekking by night, and resting by day
as much as the terrific heat would allow, we worked
our tedious way into the heart of the desert ; and
now the magnitude of the task before me was becom-
ing more fully apparent every day. For, toil as
our willing beasts would, it was obvious that each
long night's exhausting trek barely carried us ten
miles forward as the crow flies. The dunes were
each day becoming higher, till they were veritable
mountains of sand, the patches of t'samma became
less and less frequent, and it was evident that at
any time they might fail altogether. All this time
we saw no sign of human life, not even a solitary
spoor upon the tell-tale sand. Animal life, however,
there was in abundance, and we had no need to
leave our path to shoot as much game as we required.

OF THE KALAHARI ' 39

At times, on cresting the brow of a dune, we would
come close upon a herd of gemsbok in the long
" aar " beneath us ; magnificent animals, whose
long, straight, sabre-like horns are feared even by
the lion. Fearless of man, the whole troop would
stand as one, gazing straight at us, immovable
as statues, until we were within a few yards of
them : then their leader, usually a magnificent
bull, with horns of well on to four feet, would give
a toss of his head and a stamp of his foot, and away
the whole troop would fly; wheeling, trotting,
halting and turning to gaze at us again, in such
perfect unison, that they reminded one irresistibly
of a well-drilled troop of cavalry.

Or a flock of ostriches would career across our
path, their huge strides covering the ground at an
incredible pace ; queer-looking hartebeeste were
also plentiful, and duiker, steenbok, and smaller
fry abounded everywhere.

Of lions we saw but little, though their spoors
were abundant, and occasionally we heard them at
night ; the spoors of leopards were everywhere —
but these wily animals are seldom seen unless
hunted for — and often a pack of the dreaded wild
hunting-dogs would stream across our path in
pursuit of its quarry.

For strangely enough all of these animals appear

40 A RIP VAN WINKLE

to be absolutely independent of water, and some
of them — notably the gemsbok, .apparently never
drink. . . .

There came a day when we entered an entirely
different region, though still the sand stretched in
all directions. But now the dunes were no longer
either uniform in height or parallel as they had
been, but tossed and tumbled in all directions in
the utmost confusion ; and here also t'samma,
and in fact all vegetation, ceased. We reached
this region of awful desolation a little after sunrise
one morning, coming upon it abruptly from the
edge of a dune whose hollow held the usual vegeta-
tion in plenty.

With my field-glasses I scanned the bare and
barren waste before us in all directions, but no sign
of life or vegetation broke the monotony of its
awful desolation. I looked at Inyati, peering from
under his palm in the same direction, and he answered
my unspoken question.

" Yes, master, we must cross it. It runs for
many days' journey north and south, and we cannot
go round. I crossed it when I came, but farther
south ; and I found a little t'samma then. And
yet I nearly died ! "

That day the heat was very great, and here there
were no bushes to give us a particle of shade. A

OF THE KALAHARI 41

few stunted " gar-boomen " there were, and the
horses ate eagerly of the long bunches of bean-like
fruit hanging from them ; but their thin, withered
foliage was no protection against the terrific power
of the sun. Then Inyati showed me a Bushman
trick ; for, burrowing in the side of the dune, he
soon made a considerable hollow, and breaking
down the brittle " gar " bushes he roofed it over,
throwing a whole pile of other bushes on top till it
was light-proof enough to at least break some of the
sun's glare.

And into this we crawled, and stewed till evening
brought us some little respite.

Meanwhile we had discussed our chances of
getting across.

" Three days, at least, my master, it will take
the horses ; and if we find no t'samma they will
die. It is drier than when I crossed. But if we go
not east, but turn somewhat to the south, there is a
pan. It is two days only — but who knows if there is
water there ? Still, mayhap, that is the better path."
That night we had to wait late before trekking,
as the moon was waning, and in the hideous jumble
of dunes before us, we feared to trust solely to the
stars. We were glad to rest too, and let our horses
rest and take their fill of the last t'samma they
were likely to get.

42 A RIP VAN WINKLE

I lay smoking in the dark, waiting for the moon
to rise, and listening to the " crunch, crunch " of
the horses still steadily feeding, when a low call
from Inyati made me spring to my feet, He had
climbed to the top of the highest dune, and at his
second call I ploughed my way up through the loose
sand till I stood beside him. He was pointing away
to the south-east.

" A fire, master," he said ; " there are men there ;
that must be our way, for there must there be
t'samma, or water ! "

Sure enough a tiny fire was flickering far away,
and apparently on the far horizon, though it is
almost impossible to judge of the distance of a fire
by night.

At any rate, it certainly seemed better for us to
try to make our way to it, and without waiting
longer for the moon we saddled up and started our
floundering way across the labyrinth of dunes in
its direction.

All night long we followed the faint gleam,
which faded and vanished as morning found us,
well-nigh exhausted, in the midst of the wilderness of
bare sand.

But, though I could see nothing, Inyati's keen
eyes made out a thin wreath of smoke from a pro-
minent dune still some distance away ; and in

OF THE KALAHARI 43

spite of our fatigue we struggled on, till, with the
sun glaring down full upon us, we stood on the flank
of the huge slope of sand. Near its crest, a few
dry and blackened stumps and withered bushes
showed where a little vegetation had once existed,
and from near them rose the smoke. There was,
however, no sign of life ; and not a sound broke the
awful silence of the desert, as we breasted the rise.
Then a vulture flapped lazily up in front of us, and
another — and another — and a tiger-wolf (hyena)
lurched its gorged and ungainly carcase down the
farther slope. . . .

The fire was alive, but those that had built and
lit it were dead ... of thirst. . . .

They lay there, all that the vultures had left, a
fearsome sight ; and their swollen and protruding
tongues told the tale as plainly as though they had
spoken. Yellow bodies, emaciated, but the bodies
of what had once been a splendidly proportioned
man and woman — no Bushmen these ?

" They are of my folk," said Inyati gravely, as
he stooped to examine them, " mayhap they too
have fled from the priests ? . . , And they have
crossed the desert the way we would go — and are
dead of thirst ! "

CHAPTER III
THE SAND-STORM

WE scraped a hasty grave in the sand for the poor
remains, and stood gazing silently across the dunes
in the direction that the fresh spoors showed the
two poor creatures had come from ; stood there
regardless of our fatigue, and of the blazing heat,
of everything in fact but the grim tragedy before
us, and the terrible significance it bore for us, who
would follow the same path.

" We must rest, and eat," at length said Inyati,
" so too must the horses, or they may die before
there is need."

We stripped the loads from the poor brutes,
and divided the bags of t'samma we had piled
upon them, and soon they were munching away
contentedly, whilst we rigged up some sort of shelter
and lay and panted till the evening.

Then, and then only, did we discuss what we were
next to do. " Master," at length said Inyati,
" think, and think well. To go back is still easy,

44

A RIP VAN WINKLE OF THE KALAHARI 45

to go forward may well be that we die — even as
these two have died !

" The desert is drier than when I struggled through
it, more dead than alive, by the path these people
came by — and that way it would be madness to
try ! South, we might find another path, but it
will be a longer one — and . . . my master can still
return ? And the stone — that my master can
take — and I will go on and bring him more, if he
will but return to the camp and there await me.
. . . And if I come not in two moons, I shall be
dead. . . ."

He held out the blue diamond as he spoke ; but
the offer, genuine as it undoubtedly was, acted as
a taunt to me, and I bade him sternly put back the
stone, and talk not to me of returning.

" Thou sayest that the desert is but beginning,"
I told him. " Am I then a weakling, to run back like
a whipped hound, at the sight of a dead man ?
Nay, I will return with the stones I seek, or not at
all ! "

Inyati nodded his head sagely as he sucked at
his cherished pipe.

' • Aye ! Aye ! " he said softly. " Said I not that the
stones were magic ? Sad, even as a sick cow, was
my master, till I showed him the stone, and now
he is even again as a young bull ! "

46 A RIP VAN WINKLE

If he had meant to stir me from the apathy that
the desert had brought upon me, he certainly
succeeded, for his complimentary comparison of
me to a sick cow again set me laughing ! It was
the first time I had laughed for days, and it did me
good.

" Yes, we must go south," said Inyati, " but not
far. Only half a march, and then we will turn
again east. Thus shall we find the pans."

That night we did not wait for the moon, but
saddled our still jaded nags before it was well
dark, and walking most of the way to rest them,
we set our faces towards the Southern Cross. Half
way through the night we halted, and resting for a
while, again pushed on, but this time due east.
Dawn found us eagerly looking round for a change
in the landscape — if a featureless chaos of tumbled
sand is worthy of such a name ? — but I, at any rate,
could see nothing 1

Not so Inyati : his eyes were better than my
field-glasses.

" Look, master I " he said, as the sun rose, " there,
and there, and there ! — little low clouds, just rising
from those three places — and they won't last long 1
They are pans, master, and it is mist that rises from
them. There is moisture — there may b« water
. there."

OF THE KALAHARI 47

" And food for the horses ? " I asked him ; for our
poor brutes were in an awful state, and we had
nothing to give them.

" That may well be," he said, " not on the pans,
but near them. And, master, we must struggle
on, and find out ; for they cannot fast another day,
and trek another night, without either food or
drink."

The rising sun rapidly dispersed the little clouds
that Inyati had pointed out, but we kept on in their
direction, though the sand was now burning hot and
the poor animals were suffering frightfully.

Now a few scattered bushes and tufts of bone-dry
" toa " grass began to show in the hollows between
the dunes, and at length, on breasting an unusually
high one — a veritable mountain of sand, three or
four hundred feet in height — a new and marvellous
scene stretched before me.

Abruptly from the foot of the steep dune-slope
stretched a vast, glittering expanse of the purest
white ; to all appearance a snow-covered lake,
spotless and dazzling in the brilliant sunshine. It
was almost a perfect circle in shape and several
miles in diameter, and on all sides it was hemmed
in by gigantic dunes.

" Salt, master ! " said Inyati. " I have seen such
places before, but, wow ! — this is a big one 1 And

48 A RIP VAN WINKLE

this is not the pan I seek. No good to us, master ;
but is it not strange ? Yonder in my land this
salt is a precious thing : for a basketful, one can
obtain a fat cow — for a sackful, two or more young
wives ! Here is salt enough to buy many wives,
master ; but none to gather it — or for that matter,
no wives to buy ! . . . But water, master, is what
we seek, and not salt — water or t'samma. . . . We
must cross, master ; there on the other side I see
thick bush in the dunes, there may be t'samma
there, and the way across is easy. Come ! "

He led the way down the steep slope, dragging his
jaded animals after him. At the edge, where sand
ended and salt began, lay many bones, bleached and
white almost as the salt itself, and amongst them
were the bones of men. Snorting and afraid, the
animals stepped gingerly on the smooth, snow-like
surface, which yielded but an inch or two to their
tread, and was pleasantly cool to their hooves,
parched and cracking from their long trek in the
burning sand. Beneath the white surface was a
moist black mud, and the liquid brine oozed quickly
into the horses' footprints. Used as we were to the
glare of the sun on the burning sand, here it was
literally blinding, and long before we reached the
farther side we were groping and stumbling like
blind men. It was much wider, too, than it had

OF THE KALAHARI 49

first appeared, and we were utterly exhausted when
at long length we reached the dunes again, and to
our joy found bush, and a few t'samma, most of
them old and hard, but still enough green ones to
provide a scanty meal for the suffering animals.
A respite it was, but a respite only, and well we knew
that we must push on or return at once. Our water
bags still held enough to keep us alive a day or
two, but we must find water or t'samma for the
horses soon, or it was evident they could not last.
We threw ourselves down on the burning sand,
with a blanket stretched over a tiny bush affording
scant shade for our heads, and in spite of the roasting
heat I slept the sleep of utter exhaustion.

I awoke to find Inyati afoot, and intent on adjust-
ing the blanket to shade my face from the setting
sun. I got up, aching and throbbing in every part
of my body, and parched with a thirst that the
luke-warm and already vile-tasting water from
our skin bags did little to alleviate.

" Master," said Inyati, looking at me with con-
cern, " take thou of the bitter powder (quinine) ; and
sleep again. Before morning I will come back. . . .
For I must seek the pan I know of, where water
may be found. This cursed salt pan I did not see
when I crossed before : the pan I know is one of
the others we saw the clouds rise from ; which — I

D

50 A RIP VAN WINKLE

know not ? So I seek the nearest, and if water is
there, by moonrise I will be here again. If not,
and I must seek the farther one, then when the sun
stands a span high I will be back. . . . Nay . . .
better that I should go alone ; rest, master, and let
the horses rest too, for if I find not the water, our
path will be a hard one ! "

He shouldered his Winchester, and strode off,
all my arguments failing to persuade him to take
a drop of our little remaining store of water. I
watched him striding away through the dunes
till he was lost to sight, then I turned to and made
a fire and some food ; for I felt weak and ill and
my head was burning. Then I looked to the horses,
hobbling them short in case they should stray —
though, poor brutes, they were too worn out to be
likely to do anything of the kind. Then I gathered
all the dry stumps and bush I could find, and
made a fire, for lion and leopard spoor were very
plentiful : moreover, a fire would help Inyati to
find his way back. Later, as night fell, I lay down
and tried to sleep ; but exhausted as I was I could
not rest. My thoughts were with Inyati. Would
he find the pan — and water ? And if not, what
would happen ? The horses would scarce be able
to struggle back to the nearest t'samma we had
left, and in any case, to go back, beaten ! No,

0^ THE KALAHARI 51

if Inyati gave any hope at all, I would push on as
long as life lasted. . . .

So I lay and mused by the flickering fire, listening
for the occasional yelp of a jackal, or the horrible
laughter of a hyena.

Sleep I could not ; the horses too were rest-
less, snorting and fidgeting as they bunched
close together, only a yard or two from where I
lay.

I wondered if lions were prowling near, but could
hear or see nothing. The air was hot and stifling,
and there was none of the pleasant coolness usual
to even these summer nights in the desert, and on
climbing to the crest of the dune to look vainly
towards where Inyati must be wandering, I saw
that the sky in that direction was heavy with
clouds ; and even as I looked, flash after flash of
lightning rent their heavy pall.

" Thank God ! " was my first thought, " there will
be rain there, and if the pans lie there, we shall find
water."

I stood and watched for some time, and saw that
the storm was travelling towards me, but it was
still far distant, and I returned to the fire and again
tried to sleep, for the moon would not rise for several
hours, and Inyati had said he could not be back
before then.

52 A RIP VAN WINKLE

And this time I slept, a heavy sleep full of distorted
dreams.

At length I awoke with a start, just as a gust of
wind caught the fire and scattered the embers in
all directions. Another and another followed, each
more violent than the preceding one, then came a
terrific blast that whirled the blanket I had been
lying on away into the night : the last firebrand
was snatched up as though by an unseen hand, and
borne high over the dune, and before I had time to
realise what was happening I was fighting for my
life in the howling darkness of a terrific sandstorm.
The wind was demoniacal ; it apparently blew from
all quarters at once, in short, sharp, incessant gusts,
lifting and whirling away everything that came in
its path, shifting the loose sand in such masses,
and hurling it with such force that to stand still
would have meant being buried. Luckily the
scanty vegetation where we had rested had some-
what bound the sand, but in a few minutes of the
awful struggle I realised that unless I could reach
some firmer spot I must be overwhelmed. A
momentary lull showed me the horses half buried,
and apparently too stupefied to do more than stand
passively awaiting their fate.

The salt pan ! That was my only chance : there,
at least, the very ground would not dissolve beneath

OF THE KALAHARI 53

my feet, as it was doing here ! And I must make
for it at once, for the whirling cataclysm of sand was
again closing upon me. Seizing the horses I cut
their hobbles, and throwing one of the packs across
the nearest I coaxed and dragged him from the sand.
I had my rifle, and I had no time for anything else,
but made off in the direction of the pan, barely
fifty yards away ; but so terrible was now the force
of the wind that I was hard put to it to reach it,
and thankful indeed was I when a brief lull showed
me the wide expanse of white spreading dimly
before me in the murk.

Even here the ever-recurring whirlwinds bore
huge volumes of sand eddying across the pan, and
at times I feared I should be choked and over-
whelmed, but as I gradually neared the centre the
air grew clearer, and I knew that for the time, at
least, I was safe.

The horses had struggled out after their leader,
and stood trembling near me ; luckily I had left
them saddled and bridled in anticipation of an
early start, but the other pack was lying there in
the dunes. And thus I awaited the abatement of
the storm, a prey to the most awful suspense.

Inyati ! . . . there in the distant dunes — if the
storm had caught him in their midst he must be
dead — overwhelmed and buried in the chaos of sand !

54 A RIP VAN WINKLE

Or had he been able to gain one of the pans first :
and would the abatement of the storm see him return
to me ?

Hour after hour I waited, and still it raged : the
time for moonrise was long since past, though no
gleam of its waning light could break through the
whirling pall around me. Moonrise ! That had
been the time Inyati had hoped to return by, should
he find water in the first pan ; but where was he
now, battling for his life among the dunes, or dead
beneath them ?

At length day dawned ; and with the light the
storm ceased as suddenly as it had begun, though
still huge clouds of dust hung all around, through
which the rising sun gleamed red and rayless, as
through a thick fog.

Soon not a breath of wind remained, and the dust
rapidly settling, disclosed the tossed and distorted
wilderness through which the storm had raged.

At no great distance from me, and, as I judged,
in the direction of the spot at which the storm had
overtaken me, a gigantic dune lay piled high above
the others. This was some of the devilish work of
the past night, for it had not been there yesterday !

There appeared no likelihood of a return of the
storm ; and, full of anxiety and distress, I made
my way to this newly-formed dune, which apparently

OF THE KALAHARI 55

covered the exact spot of our camp of overnight ;
but now no vestige of bush remained in sight any-
where: it was all buried fathoms deep in sand.
And gone too were many of our belongings, for with
the exception of the one pack-saddle, to which one
of the water-skins was providentially made fast,
I had had no time to pick up anything ; and now
the half of our precious water, and much of our
stores and ammunition, were covered by the
thousands of tons of the gigantic dune. Search
as I could, in all directions, I could find no trace of
. them, they had gone irretrievably ; and gaze as I
could from the highest point of the new dune I
could see no sign of life, and the sad conviction was
forced upon me that Inyati had perished, and that
I was alone.

CHAPTER IV

THE PANS AND THE POISON FLOWERS

BY this time the sun was high in the heavens, and
I realised that if I would make a bid for life I must
do it soon. Buffeted and almost choked with the
battle of the past night, I was parched with thirst,
and had perforce to encroach upon the scanty store
left to me — a bare quart at the outside ; barely
sufficient to keep life in me another day in the
terrible heat. The horses, too, were suffering and
would scarcely last that time, and I was now faced
with the terrible problem as to whether I should
attempt to return or to penetrate farther into the
desert. To return would be difficult, for the storm
had passed that way and all our spoors would be
obliterated ; moreover, we had gone out of our
path so far when following the fire that I was by
no means certain as to the absolute direction.
Moreover, a glance that way showed me heavy,
dun-coloured clouds on the far horizon : there the
storm was raging still, and I shuddered to think

56

A RIP VAN WINKLE OF THE KALAHARI 57

of what my fate might be in the loose bare dunes
we had passed through with such difficulty. Be-
sides, though Inyati's awful fate appeared but too
certain, I felt impelled to follow the direction he
had gone — for there might, after all, be a faint hope
that he had lived through the storm. But this
alternative was a terrible one, for even if water
had existed in the pans for which he was searching,
it was all too probable that the storm would have
rilled up every pit with sand, and to penetrate so
far would make return impossible. However, I
could not remain where I was and die without a
struggle ; so, dividing the load as well as possible
among the almost exhausted animals, I again
entered the maze of dunes and struck due east,
full of forebodings as to my own possible fate, .
and of sorrow for that of poor Inyati. For hours I
stumbled through the bewildering mass of broken
and barren dunes, finding no trace of vegetation,
and full of apprehension lest the wind should rise
before I reached the pan ; in which case I was
doomed. At long length, and when the afternoon
was well advanced, a flat dark space showed be-
tween two dunes some distance ahead, and an hour
later I stood upon the pan. No salt pan this time,
but a flat, circular floor of dry mud, hard and
entirely free from the surrounding sand. Here and

58 A RIP VAN WINKLE

there a few stunted bushes grew, and in the centre
of the circle — which was about a mile across —
stood a huge herd of gemsbok. They made off at
a canter as I rode wearily across to the depression
in the centre where I hoped to find water. But the
shallow, hoof-trampled hollow was bone-dry; there
was no sign of Inyati either, and my heart sank as
I realised that my struggle had been in vain. . . .
Anyway, here I must rest and eat, and drink a little
of my tiny stock of water, and on the morrow make
my last struggle on foot, for it was evident that the
horses could go no further, and were dying of thirst.
I threw off their light loads, and they stood with
drooping heads and ears, the picture of dejection.
A mouthful of water was all I dare drink, and
there remained less than a pint in the water-skin.
Almost stupefied, exhausted, and despondent, I
lay down beside a tiny bush, at whose dry twigs
the famished horses were now trying to nibble, and
sank into a state of half sleep, half stupor.

The sound of a shot aroused me from my lethargy
— had I been dreaming ? No — there it was again ;
and now across the pan came streaming back the
herd of gemsbok, and after them ran and stumbled
a nude black figure, that now and again paused to
single out an animal and shoot.

" Inyati ! Inyati ! thank God ! " I cried out, for

OF THE KALAHARI 59

it could be no other ; and as fast as my aching limbs
allowed I hastened towards him. Now he was down
beside one of the fallen animals, and his knife was
at work ; and now I realised why he had picked
his victims, and had shot so many. It was not
food he wanted, but drink, and he had shot only
the cows, whose udders were full of rich sweet milk.
It was time, too, that he drank, for he could not
speak, and his cracked and swollen lips and blood-
shot eyes told a tale of awful suffering. . . .
Soon, however, he was able to talk.
" The storm, master," he said ; " near was I to
being buried alive — and I thought thee dead !
Yet, could I not return before, for I have found no
water. The other pan is dry also, but now I have
seen from far off a spot where water is, and so I
hastened back to find my master. It is far, but we
shall win through." . . . Caught by the storm
between the two pans he had been hours staggering
through the raging chaos, and had reached the pan
only after the sun had risen and the storm had
ceased — to find it without a vestige of water.

Casting about in the dunes, he had searched for
t'samma without avail, and filled with anxiety for
me had been torn between a desire to return at once,
and the absolute necessity of finding water. Hurry-
ing from one prominent dune to another he had

60 A RIP VAN WINKLE

scanned the desert in all directions, and had even
found one or two more pans, but again waterless.
One, however, showed that it had held water recently
for it was still moist, and there he had found a
flock of the tiny Namaqua partridge, so plentiful in
certain parts of the desert. These little birds are
swift of flight, and fly long distances in search
of water ; and Inyati, as they rose in a cloud from
their old drinking place, had marked the direction
of their flight. North-east they went, and his keen
eyes had followed them till they were no longer
visible, and as he watched he saw many other
flocks, and all flying in the same direction. " There
is the water," thought Inyati, and he had toiled on
in their wake, but the way was far, and it was
hours before, from a high dune, he had seen a large
pan in the distance, to which all the birds were
converging. " A big pan, master," he said, " with
thick bush and big trees — an oasis — or perhaps —
who knows ? — a river bed." And frantic with
thirst as he was, he had not gone on, but turned
back hoping to find me alive.

My heart leapt with joy at the news, for with the
knowledge that water awaited us we could struggle
on — but the horses ? Inyati shook his head as he
examined them. " That one will die before morn-
ing," said he, " but maybe we can save the others,

OF THE KALAHARI 61

though they cannot carry us. We must eat, drink,
and sleep, for the way is long and we are weak. . . .
And now, master, if all the tobacco is not there
under the big dune with the other packs, I will
smoke, for I have missed my tobacco sadly."

How he enjoyed himself, this lighthearted phil-
osopher of the desert ! Long steaks of tender
gemsbok he cut and grilled on the wood ashes of
the tiny fire, treating in a like manner the juicy
udders after he had squeezed out most of the milk.
The water he would not touch, but his appetite
seemed unappeasable ; steak after steak disappeared
and still he carved and cooked, smoking between
whiles, and singing -some never-ending song of all
the fine wives he would buy, and what he would do
to certain priests, if he got his " little gun " safe to
his own country. His cheery presence, and the
reliance I placed in him cheered me enormously,
and I realised that I, too, was hungry. And so we
ate, and smoked, and slept, till nearly midnight ;
and then, keeping the Southern Cross low down on
the horizon on our right, we once more entered
the dunes.

The horse that Inyati had referred to was obviously
dying, and a merciful bullet put an end to the poor
brute's sufferings. The others trudged wearily after
us, making but slow progress, but doing better than

62 A RIP VAN WINKLE

I had conceived possible of animals that had not
eaten or drank for thirty-six hours. But morning
found them dead beat ; they stood stock still as
the sun rose, and neither coaxing nor flogging could
get the poor brutes a step farther. According to
Inyati's reckoning we were still four hours from the
water, and it was obvious that once we left them
we could never hope to save them, for we could
never bring back enough water to keep them alive.

" There is but one thing," said Inyati, as he slipped
their loads off. " Water we cannot bring them, nor
would it be in time, for once the sun is hot they
will die. But stay here, and I will search for a
certain thing. Nay, master," he continued, for I
had made a gesture of dissent ; " this time I go
not far. But here I see rain has fallen of late, and
though there is no t'samma, there may be another
thing that will save the horses."

" Then I will seek it with you, Inyati," I said,
for I was determined not to lose sight of him again.

" Better rest, master," he urged, " there will be
no more sandstorms. And there is still far to go."

But go I would, and so we left the poor horses
standing in a forlorn little group, gazing with sad
lack-lustre eyes at the masters who had brought
them to such a plight. Inyati took with him a
canvas bag that had been used as a saddlecloth, and

OF THE KALAHARI 63

I wondered what he hoped to find to fill it, for there
was no vestige of vegetation to be seen, except some
tiny seeds just sprouting here and there in the
hollows between the dunes.

I could see no other evidence of the rain that
Inyati spoke of, but soon, in a deeper depression
than usual, we found signs that water had recently
accumulated there, though the spot was now as dry
as the surrounding dunes. But here Inyati, who had
been keenly examining the ground, uttered a grunt of
satisfaction, and pointed to a spot close to his feet.
There was no trace of a plant, but a slight swelling,
as it were, of the soil, which showed, too, some small
cracks as though something was trying to burst its
way to the surface.

" Cameel-brod," said he, and kneeling down he
commenced scooping away the sand with his hands,
and from a few inches below the surface he soon
drew a whitish tuber the size of a large turnip. It
was full of thin watery juice, acrid and sharp to
the taste, but as I afterwards found, extremely
acceptable to the horses.

Soon we had the bag nearly full, and cutting
them up on our waterproof ground-sheet, we quickly
had a quantity of watery pulp, at which the animals
nuzzled greedily, and which revived them to a
remarkable extent almost at once; so much so

64 A RIP VAN WINKLE

indeed, that we had very little difficulty in hurrying
them forward again. The last drop of water had
long since gone, and I was now consumed with
thirst, and sick with misgiving as to what might be
found at the pan Inyati had seen. Now we could
see it, and, as yesterday, the flocks of partridges
were all flying in that direction. How I envied
them their wings, and how I grudged them the
precious water they would be drinking ! At length,
footsore, weary, with eyes scorched by the blinding
glare of the sun on the bare sand, and with lips
cracked and tongues swollen with thirst, we staggered
out of the dunes into a wide pan covered with bush
and sprinkled with big trees — huge cameel-doorn of
thick verdant foliage, which gave the whole expanse
a park-like appearance. They were full of gay-
plumaged birds, butterflies were flitting everywhere,
here and there were fine stretches of thick grass, in
fact, after all we had suffered in the furnace of
shadeless sand behind us, the place was a veritable
paradise. And at length, where the trees were
thickest, we espied_tall green reeds growing thickly,
and a few minutes later our fears were at an end,
for here was water in plenty.

It was thick and muddy, and fouled by wild
animals, whose spoors showed thick all around it ;
but to us it was absolute nectar, and it needed all

OF THE KALAHARI 65

Inyati's persuasion to prevent me from drinking to
excess — and probably dying on the spot.

We had to control the horses too, and let them
drink but little at a time, or they too would prob-
ably have drank till they dropped dead in their
tracks.

In this pleasant oasis we stayed for three days,
resting, recuperating, and living on the fat of the
land. Game there was in abundance, so much so,
indeed, that they were a cause of anxiety, for the
water in the vlei was decreasing rapidly from the
number of animals that drank there nightly, and it
was obvious that it would not last for very long
unless rain fell. Signs were not wanting that the
season had been exceptionally dry, for the vlei
had at one time been of large extent, and now
nothing but the one small pool remained. At it
also drank myriads of partridges, the air being
literally thick with the huge swarms of them that
came in the early morning and again at night, so
tame and fearless that they scarcely troubled to get
out of our way, and we kept our pot going by
simply knocking them over with a stick.

We soon explored the pan — or oasis — which was
almost circular in shape and about a mile in diameter,
and completely encircled by dunes ; most of them as
barren and forbidding as those we had already

E

66 A RIP VAN WINKLE

passed through, though to the south there was a
certain amount of vegetation. This, however, was
useless to us, as our way was east or north-east,
and in this direction all Inyati's reconnoitring failed
to discover anything but bare dunes, as far as the
eye could reach.

Pleasant as the shade and greenery of the oasis
was, it was evident that our stay could not be a
lengthy one ; moreover, lions were increasingly
numerous, and for the first time in our trip began
to cause us serious anxiety. So bold were they
that fires had to be lit at nightfall and kept
going all night ; and their roars made sleep
impossible.

The nights were now dark and moonless, and on
the third of our stay the lions were exceptionally
troublesome. We could see little beyond the light
of the fires, but roars and growls came from all
quarters, and there were evidences that a large herd
of some kind of buck was passing through the oasis,
and these the lions were attacking.

Inyati was nervous and uneasy, not, as he ex-
plained, on account of the lions — his " little gun "
would see to them — but as to what was happening
at the water-hole, from which we had removed our
camp some distance on account of the lions.

" Gemsbok, master, a big herd of them, that is

OF THE KALAHARI 67

what it is," he said, as we listened to the terrific
roars in the direction of the water. " They seek
not water, for they seldom drink, but if it comes in
their way they may do so ; moreover, they will be
likely to trample the pool into mud to cool their
hooves. Luckily our water-skin is full, and the
horses have drunk well ; but I fear what the morning
will show."

All night we could hear the buck moving about
and passing through — there must have been thou-
sands of them. All night, too, the roaring continued,
culminating shortly before daybreak with the most
terrific uproar in the direction of the pool it was
possible to imagine.

There the lions seemed to be making a combined
attack, and judging by the sounds they were also
fighting among themselves. As soon as it was
daylight we hurried anxiously in that direction,
keeping our rifles ready, although, as a rule, lions
are little to be feared by daylight, unless disturbed
at their meal. They were even more numerous
than we had imagined, for huge dun-coloured forms
slunk off in all directions through the bush as we
neared the water. " Water ! " did I say? There
was no water now, for Inyati's fears had been well-
founded. The little pool had been trampled into
black mud by countless gemsbok, and the various

68 A RIP VAN WINKLE

half-eaten carcases strewn about showed that the
lions had taken heavy toll of them.

Not without cost to themselves, however ; for
there in the centre of what had been the pool lay a
huge lion, dead, transfixed and impaled upon the
long, sharp, straight horns of the magnificent
gemsbok bull, that lay, with broken neck, almost
hidden beneath the lion's formidable bulk.

" Wow!" said Inyati; "I have heard of the
like before. He was a strong bull, that old one,
and held his horns straight to meet the lion's spring.
. . . And, as I feared, master, the water is gone."

It was obvious that nothing could be done with the
black mud before us, for where it still remained
moist it was full of blood and filth ; and a decision
thus forced upon us, we but waited till the power
of the sun had somewhat abated before striking
once more into the desert, due east. Our horses
were rested and refreshed, and we pushed on
throughout the night, till just before dawn we
stumbled through a small patch of t'samma, and
immediately decided to give our horses the benefit
of them. Unfortunately, daylight showed the patch
to be but a tiny one, where an arbitrary shower had
fallen at the right season, and it barely sufficed
for the day.

And so for days we pushed on incessantly, often

OF THE KALAHARI 69

going many miles out of our course to visit one
of the many pans we now came across frequently,
but failing in every case to find enough water to
even replenish our water-skin. T'samma we found
occasionally, sufficient, at any rate, to keep us and
our animals alive, but barely ; and the horrible
anxiety of constant fear of a death by thirst had
began to tell upon me badly. Not so Inyati, who,
thirsty or satisfied, was always cheerful, always
optimistic that we should eventually find a way
through to his country of many diamonds — and
many wives ! Many a weary trek that had landed
us waterless and still further involved in the vast
wilderness of dunes, had seen me sink despondent
on the sand, caring but little whether I ever tried
to struggle farther ; to be roused from my lethargy
by the cheery whimsicalities of this Micawber of the
desert.

He would bring out ^he blue diamond and pre-
tend to consult it as an oracle, and it would always
promise him wonderful things ! Sometimes — for
game was now scarce — it would be a fat buck for
breakfast ; sometimes a vast plain of t'samma, or
a big pool of water ; and his prophecies always
ended in unlimited diamonds and unlimited wives !
And cheered by this nonsense, I would shake off
the fit of despondency, and struggle on ; though as

70 A RIP VAN WINKLE

time went on I often thought of Van der Decken,
the " Flying Dutchman," and his endless effort to
weather the Cape of Storms.

For our endless zigzagging in search of the where-
withal to live, though it had brought us to the very
heart of the vast desert, had taken us far from the
true direction of what we were in search of, nor
could all our efforts find us a way through.

The moon was with us now again, and we trekked
at night, seldom riding, but plodding doggedly
through the endless succession of .dunes, with the
spiritless horses strung out behind us. Their hooves
were splayed to an enormous size through this
incessant trekking through the sand ; yet, though
broken and enfeebled, they had become more inured
to the conditions, and the few t'samma, or tubers
dug from the sand for them, sufficed to keep them
alive.

I had ceased to take account of the time, but
there came a day when we came upon a tract where
rain had fallen in abundance some time before.
For from an absolutely barren dune, we suddenly
looked down upon a thick garden of beautiful flowers ;
tall, and like a slender foxglove in appearance, they
filled the wide hollows between the dunes in all
directions. They were of endless variety in colour,
white, mauve, and an endless gamut of pinks, down

OF THE KALAHARI 71

to the deepest purple ; and a more beautiful sight
it would be impossible to imagine. But thickly as
they grew for mile after mile, there was nothing
else, no t'samma or any other refreshing plant or
fruit, and the hungry horses would not look at them.
I noticed, too, that Inyati seemed none too pleased
at finding this gorgeous garden, and climbed dune
after dune to peer in all directions as the sun rose
on the morning we found it.

" We must cross it quickly, or go round," he
said, as I stood beside him on the top of a high dune.
"It is a poison flower, and makes one sleep — and
to sleep among it is to die. But I see no way
round ! " Far on the horizon we could see the clouds
rising from a pan in the right direction.

" We must go on," said Inyati, " and cross this
belt of poison flower by day, when it will harm us
but little ; to be among it after sundown is to sleep
— and to sleep among it is to die."

I had heard of this poison flower before, but had
never heard of its being found in such abundance
as to be a danger to life. It looked too beautiful
to be harmful, and its perfume was but faint. But
Inyati knew it well, and I could see that he was
anxious, as after a short rest we trekked on through
the never-ending stretches of gorgeous colouring,
through them, as through a cornfield. And soon I

72 A RIP VAN WINKLE

found that even now in the glaring sunshine when
they were considered innocuous, their perfume had
a peculiar effect upon me, and long before we had
half crossed to the pan I was seized with an over-
powering desire to sleep. I nodded as I stumbled
along — nothing seemed to matter — why should
we worry to go farther, why not lie down and rest,
and sleep. . . . ?

I must have stumbled and fallen, drugged with
the insidious poison of the faint perfume, for I
came to myself lying upon the ground among the
flowers, and with Inyati shaking me violently and
shouting in my ear. I was drunk with sleep, and
it was with the utmost difficulty that he induced
me to mount the only horse still capable of carrying
me. We were parched with thirst, and our plight
was perhaps worse than it had ever been, for all
around stretched the fatal flowers, and it might
well be that we could not clear them before night
fell, and their poison became overpowering in its
strength. On the horse, my head cleared somewhat,
probably because I was higher from the ground,
where the perfume hung heavily, although I could
not rid myself of the drowsiness. At midday we
were forced to halt for a rest — forced, too, to take it
in the glaring sun, on the top of a bare dune, for we
dare not even cover ourselves with a bundle of the

OF THE KALAHARI 73

plants for fear of the poison. An hour or two we
sat and grilled, and then forced ourselves onward
once more, for the pan was still distant, and we
feared we should not reach it before dark — which
would mean we would never reach it at all ! But
struggle as we would, we could make but little
progress, and it was with mortal fear that I beheld
the sun sink, and saw from a high dune that there
was fully a mile of thick flowers between us and
the pan, where dark bush and big trees showed
plainly, and where the flowers ended abruptly.

" Let us stay here," I urged Inyati, " surely we
are safe here on the top of the dune ? " for we were
fully fifty feet above the sea of flowers.

" No, master, no ! " he answered emphatically;
"if it were twice the height we should die before
the night is out. Push through we must, even if
we leave all our pack here and return for it to-
morrow ; and the horses must come too, or we
shall lose them. Nothing could live here through
the night." Hastily, as he spoke, he threw off
the horses' already light loads, leaving everything
but his beloved " little gun " on the top of the
dune, and dragging the halter of the leading beast,
he started down the slope. Instantly on entering
the dense growth I felt the effect of the scent,
which was now, although the sun had barely

74 A RIP VAN WINKLE OF THE KALAHARI

disappeared, ten times stronger than it had been
in the sunlight. No faint sweetness now, but an
overpowering scent similar to that of the well-
known " moon-lilies " but infinitely stronger, and
stupefying to a degree. Before fifty yards were
traversed my head was spinning, and I was stagger-
ing like a drunken man. I remember Inyati half
dragging me on to the horse again and feeling
him lashing me to girth and saddle, remember his
hoarse shouts to the horse and myself becoming
fainter, remember dimly that the sjambok he
flogged the horse with fell frequently across my
back and legs, but nothing could keep me from
the overwhelming desire to sleep And then all
was a blank.

CHAPTER V
I LOSE INYATI

WATER ! delicious cold water, being dashed in my
face and trickling down my parched throat, brought
me again to my senses. I lay, sore and bruised
and with throbbing head and limbs, beside some tall
reeds, between which water glittered in the light
of the rising moon.

Inyati bent over me and he uttered an exclama-
tion of joy as I opened my eyes.

" Master ! master ! I thought thee dead," he
cried, " and surely would I then have died too !
Right sorely did I beat thee, master, there among
the devil flowers, to keep thee from the sleep that
kills ; but there was no one to beat me, and I had
but strength and sense to tie myself too upon my
horse before I too slept. And surely my sjambok
must have helped them against the poison flowers,
for they came right through, having smelt the
water maybe ; and brought us here to its very side,
where I awoke to find them drinking. But the

75

76 A RIP VAN WINKLE

other is there in the dunes — he will sleep well, that
one ; and die."

And die he did ; for the next day, refreshed and
fearing the flowers little in the day time, we went
back to the dune where we had left our packs.
It was barely a mile, and about half way we found
the third horse, dead.

The pan was but a small one, and the delicious
water of the night proved to be but a few gallons
of stagnant liquid full of animalculae ; but there
was grass for the horses, and to our joy we found
that the flower belt did not extend beyond where
we had emerged from it. Bare dunes spread again
beyond., but even these were welcome, after our
experience of the " devil flowers," as Inyati called
them. Buck was plentiful, and for a day or two
we ate, drank, and slept to our heart's content,
gathering all the strength we could for our next
attempt. Inyati was full of confidence for the
future, confident that we should never have diffi-
culties to encounter equal to those we had sur-
mounted, and that the diamonds — and wives —
would soon be at our disposal.

" North, master ! almost due north now — and we
shall find pans on the way — with water ! My
magic stone has told me that — and it makes no
mistakes ! And to-morrow we start again ; for

OF THE KALAHARI 77

the water will last but a few days — moreover, we
have been long on the path."

Poor Inyati ! the bravest, cheeriest comrade —
black or white — that I have ever had ; little did I
dream when he spoke thus that he would never live
to see the morrow !

That evening, as we sat smoking by the fire,
we noticed that the two horses were extremely
nervous, pricking their ears and snorting as they
cropped the dry grasses a few yards away from
us.

" Leopards," suggested Inyati, " there are many
spoors here, but no lions."

But scarcely had he spoken when the booming
roar of a lion came from the direction of the pool ;
to be immediately answered by another, and another ;
until it was evident that the pan had been invaded
by a numerous troop of them. We both started
to our feet with the same thought in our minds.
If they were hungry they might probably attack
the horses ! It was still light, but no time was to be
lost ; so hastily cutting down a number of the
stunted thorn bushes with which the pan abounded,
we proceeded to build a " scherm " in which to
pass the night.

We enclosed a space about fifteen yards square,
and into this we brought the horses, together with

78 A RIP VAN WINKLE

enough wood to keep a fire burning all night ; and
as the hedge was seven or eight feet in height, and
of impenetrable thorn, we felt but little anxiety as
to the presence of the lions. As night fell, however,
their roars became louder and nearer, and by mid-
night there were at least a dozen of them pacing
round our scherm, and barely kept at a distance
by the frequent fire-brands we threw over the
fragile protection. Occasionally the huge beasts
fought amongst themselves, and the snarling,
growling pandemonium would become more deaf-
ening ; then this diversion would cease, and the
whole troop would continue their pacing round
our fence, sniffing and snorting at us through the
thorn bushes and making us feel as one can imagine
a mouse feels when caught in a trap, and with a
hungry cat peering through the bars at him. Time
after time we scared them away by throwing fire-
brands among them, but always they returned,
and to our dismay, long before morning we realised
that our stock of firewood would not nearly last till
daylight.

We had refrained from shooting, as it was impos-
sible to see the brutes through our scherm ; but as
the fire got lower, and they became more daring,
we sent a few shots among them, and the hellish
hubbub that ensued showed that some of them

OF THE KALAHARI 79

were hit. But this proved disastrous, for a wounded
animal, in its death struggles near the fence, came
in contact with the bushes and almost tore down
our only protection before a few more bullets
finished it. There came a lull for a short time
after this, and we were congratulating ourselves
that morning would soon be dawning, when the
lions would slink away, or when the light would
enable us to finish them — when without the least
warning a huge form leapt clean over the hedge
and landed in the centre of the scherm, scattering
the few remaining embers in all directions.

A second spring, and before either of us could
shoot, the lion had pounced upon Inyati, and had
him down upon the ground beneath him, shaking
the poor fellow like a terrier shakes a rat. Mad
with rage I sent bullet after bullet into the brute's
head and body till the click of the hammer of my
Winchester showed the magazine was empty, and
the lion rolled over dead, with Inyati still in its
mighty grip, and to all appearance dead also.

Then I must have gone Berserk mad. I remember
cramming the magazine full again, and throwing
aside the bush that blocked the entrance, I stepped
out among the lions.

I can never understand why I was not killed
instantly ; but not a lion reached me, and at close

8o A RIP VAN WINKLE

range I fired shot after shot in the bright moonlight,
and lion after lion fell, till but two were left ; and
as morning dawned these slunk away, leaving me
alone with my dead.

Then I came back to the scherm, my mad fit of
rage over, and nothing but grief, and a sorrow too
deep for words to express, left in my heart. The
huge lion lay right across the poor boy's body, still
gripping his crushed shoulder in its mighty jaws ;
but now I saw that in spite of his terrible injuries
Inyati was not dead, though he was dying even as
I came back to him. Strong as I was, no strength
of mine could have freed him from the grip of those
terrible jaws, and as I struggled to do so, his be-
seeching glance stopped me . I knelt down beside him .

" Finished, master ! finished," he whispered,
" yet we have made a good fight — and you, master,
will win. Straight north now ! . . . Bury the
little gun with me, master ... it may serve me —
who knows ? . . . And take thou the blue stone,
and this my armlet, it may help . . . master,
master, I go. . . ."

And with his eyes fixed upon me, he died ; that
brave heart, that had served me so well. . . .
* * * * *

I was stupefied with the blow that had fallen
upon me, and lay for an hour or more as one stunned.

OF THE KALAHARI 8r

Once or twice the craven thought came upon me
to use a bullet to end it all, and once I actually
lifted my revolver to my head ; but dead Inyati's
last whisper seemed again to sound in my ear —
had I made a " good fight," to end it like a coward ?

And so I lay in the shade of a tree, and sleep, the
blessed healer, came to me and saved my reason.
For when I awoke, although my heart was heavy,
my brain was clear, and I knew what lay before me,
and no longer shirked the task.

The lion's head I hewed from its body, for I could
not tear its huge jaws asunder to release Inyati,
and there I buried victim and victor together.

And so, I was alone, in the heart of the desert,
with return an impossibility.

I struck north, as Inyati had told me, due north ;
in spite of the fact that in that direction the dunes
were of the worst ; and for a day, and half a night,
I wayfared, striving in sheer physical suffering to
drown the sorrow of losing Inyati. God knows
what I went through, or the poor horses that I
drove ruthlessly forward ; moreover, the fever that
was already burning in my veins may have rendered
me delirious ? Certain it is that this part, and
many a day afterwards, is but a confused dream to
me. A dream of suffering, of incessant wandering
from pan to pan ; here a few mouthfuls of stagnant

F

82 A RIP VAN WINKLE

water, and there a few t'samma still keeping myself
and the horses alive. For days the wandering
must have been purely mechanical : but one day
I came to myself just as the sun was setting. I felt
weak and exhausted but perfectly sane. I was
parched, and my water-skin was gone, probably
thrown away in a fit of frenzy or despair — I could
not remember.

The horses, mere wrecks of what they had been,
were munching the last of a small patch of t'samma ;
and I was barely in time to rescue a couple of still
eatable ones, to moisten my parched tongue.

I had no idea how long I had been lying there
unconscious, but the idea of pushing north had now
become an obsession with me, and I staggered to
the highest dune to look around me. I was still
in a wilderness of dunes, but I noticed that what
little vegetation there was, was new and strange
to me ; indeed, except for the t'samma there was
scarce a bush or plant I could recognise.

It was evident that I had travelled far in my
delirium, and my heart bounded, as I made out,
away to the north, a kopje of rugged rocks rising
from the dunes. Here, apparently, then, I was at
length reaching the confines of this wilderness of sand,
for these were the first rocks that I had seen since
we entered the desert — it seemed a lifetime back !

OF THE KALAHARI 83

The kopje was in the right direction too, for
Inyati had said " keep north/' and by reaching it
I should at least be able to spy out the land.

I lost no time in saddling up, finding that I had
still a small amount of biltong and plenty of
ammunition left. Nearly all night I trekked through
barren dunes, but these were now small and easy to
traverse compared to the mountains of sand I had
already passed through, and when I lay down for
an hour before dawn I felt sure daylight would
show me to be near the kopje. Such was the case,
for I found myself barely a mile from it, and soon
had reached its bare and boulder-strewn base. It
was perhaps three hundred feet high, of bare granite
boulders heaped one on the other, with big cavities
between them, and all so rounded and smooth that
I had great difficulty in climbing it, but at length I
stood on the huge boulder poised on the summit.
And from it, to my joy, I saw glimmering away on
the far northern horizon a wide stretch of water.
I rubbed my eyes and peered again and again,
for often the false mirage had raised my hopes to a
frantic pitch by its glittering deception. But this
was water, and I could scarce refrain from setting
forth immediately in its direction, yet, knowing
the exhausted state of the horses I feared to do so,
and seeking a hollow under a gigantic boulder I

84 A RIP VAN WINKLE

jay through the heat of that long scorching day,
parched and longing for the water I had seen,
dreaming of it when I dozed, and gloating over it
when awake. How I would revel in it ; could I
ever be satisfied again to do aught but drink, and
drink, and lay and soak my sun-scorched body in
it, and drink again ?

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 vegeta-
tion, and without a sign of bird or animal life.
My heart misgave me, as I noticed how silent,
dead, and forbidding the place was : noticed, too,

OF THE KALAHARI 85

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 con
firmed. 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

86 A RIP VAN WINKLE

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 flavour penetrated my
scorched palate, ravenously.

Cool, full of juice, and of a flavour 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 invigor-
ated, 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

OF THE KALAHARI 87

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

88 A RIP VAN WINKLE

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 THE KALAHARI 89

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 burst-
ing 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 agonising 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 ; tantalising and maddening me in

90

A RIP VAN WINKLE OF THE KALAHARI 91

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

92 A RIP VAN WINKLE

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 up-
right, I managed to move about and to find out
something of this strange prison into which I had

OF THE KALAHARI 93

been hurled in my frantic flight before the sand-
storm.

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 appar-
ently 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

94 A RIP VAN WINKLE

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. Will-
ing ? Well, at least apathetic; for all hope, all

OF THE KALAHARI 95

ambition, all interest in life had left me. I had for-
gotten 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

g6 A RIP VAN WINKLE

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 remem-
bered 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.

OF THE KALAHARI 97

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 remem-
bered 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 realised 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 dis-
figurement, and cried aloud in anguish as I saw what
manner of man I had become, and realised that even
if I could escape life was for me a closed book. . . .
Scarred, grotesque, and horrible ; what future was

G

98 A RIP VAN WINKLE

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,

OF THE KALAHARI 99

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 frag-
ments. I realised then that months must have
passed since my fall ; but even then I had no con-
ception of the terrible truth ! . . . Cheered by
the discovery of the blue diamond, I now deter-
mined 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

ioo A RIP VAN WINKLE

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 favourite 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 endeavouring 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

OF THE KALAHARI 101

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

102 A RIP VAN WINKLE

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 realised that in

OF THE KALAHARI 103

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 haver-
sack, 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

104 A RIP VAN WINKLE

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 favourable
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

OF THE KALAHARI 105

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 realised 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

io6 A RIP VAN WINKLE

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

OF THE KALAHARI 107

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

io8 A RIP VAN WINKLE OF THE KALAHARI

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 !

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 realise for a time what the loss of the dia-
monds 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 com-
pensate 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

109

no A RIP VAN WINKLE

decreed ; and if I could have done so I would cer-
tainly 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 com-
forting 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 them-
selves 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

OF THE KALAHARI in

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 marvelled 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 water-
bottle was nearly empty already, and the old haunt-
ing 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

112 A RIP VAN WINKLE

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 endeavour 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

OF THE KALAHARI 113

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 ? . . .

H

H4 A RIP VAN WINKLE

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
k 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

OF THE KALAHARI 115

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 realised 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

n6 A RIP VAN WINKLE

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

OF THE KALAHARI 117

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.

n8 A RIP VAN WINKLE

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 odour. Pro-
bably 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. Marvellously fashioned of bronze, the
face, with bared serpent fangs, bent down as though

OF THE KALAHARI 119

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 lustre that it
was impossible to look closely at it — as well try to
gaze full at the midday sun 1

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 dis-
figured, 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.

I20 A RIP VAN WINKLE

All around me was death, death everywhere, and I
felt that unless I escaped, and found human com-
panionship 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

OF THE KALAHARI 121

at the dead man and realising 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

122 A RIP VAN WINKLE OF THE KALAHARI

of the road could be seen when I glanced back, but
I could not shake of! 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 exul-
tation 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 realised 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
123

124 A RIP VAN WINKLE

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 voices1. 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

OF THE KALAHARI 125

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 invoca-
tion 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 apprehen-
sion, I lay helpless, whilst the sun sped on, until its

126 A RIP VAN WINKLE

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

OF THE KALAHARI 127

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 un-
willing 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

128 A RIP VAN WINKLE

never forget to my dying day — the face of a woman,
whose skin of ivory whiteness accentuated the un-
fathomable 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

OF THE KALAHARI 129

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 dis-
tinctly ; 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

I

130 A RIP VAN WINKLE

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, 0 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,

OF THE KALAHARI 131

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 mys-
terious being wlio 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

132 A RIP VAN WINKLE

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
splendour by the fires of her wondrous eyes. And
now I saw her not as a sphynx-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

OF THE KALAHARI 133

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
shrivelled, 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 domina-
tion, " 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

134 A RIP VAN WINKLE

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 unfathom-
able 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.

OF THE KALAHARI 135

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 under-
stand ; and through all, the sorrow for something
precious, lost beyond recall.

CHAPTER IX

FORTY YEARS 1 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 vigor-
ously 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

136

A RIP VAN WINKLE OF THE KALAHARI 137

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-country-
man 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

138 A RIP VAN WINKLE

are wandering again ! " and though I assured him
I was not, he felt my pulse and took my tempera-
ture. 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

OF THE KALAHARI 139

months in the crater — perhaps a year. Since
then I canuot 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 — nevair have I see so strong a man — •

140 A RIP VAN WINKLE

nevair ! 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 tenta-
tively.

" 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 life-
time 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

OF THE KALAHARI 141

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 realised 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 —

142 A RIP VAN WINKLE

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 re-
member 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 for-
gotten ? 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

OF THE KALAHARI 143

long weary search it had seemed, hopeless and end-
less, 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

144 A RIP VAN WINKLE

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 asketf
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

OF THE KALAHARI 145

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 ;

K

146 A RIP VAN WINKLE

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.

OF THE KALAHARI 147

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 wilder-
ness ... 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 immedi-
ately.

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

148 A RIP VAN WINKLE

" 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-waht In-koos," he answered in the affirm-
ative ; " 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 Bush-
men 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 ! "

OF THE KALAHARI 149

" 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 " Fare-
well."

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, mechani-
cally groping in his pocket for the wherewithal to

153

154 THE SALTING OF THE

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 him-
self, and, glancing once more at the pageant of
the western sky, turned back towards the con-
temptible collection of tin shanties, drinking saloons,
empty beer-bottles, and Germans, known as Luderitz-
bucht.

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 Luderitz-
bucht. 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

GREAT NORTH-EASTERN FIELDS 155
shares in diamond-fields that existed only in the
vivid imagination of the swindling " company-
promoters/' or so-called " prospectors," who in-
fested 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 him-
self, 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 expedi-
tions that were constantly being arranged : run-
away 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

156 THE SALTING OF THE

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, exas-
perated 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 realised 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

GREAT NORTH-EASTERN FIELDS 157

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 im-
bibing his bottle of beer whilst Bombastus Furiosis
still held forth. His quiet attitude evidently mis-
led 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

158 THE SALTING OF THE

of leaving the bar before he lost his temper, but as
he put down the empty mug he realised 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

GREAT NORTH-EASTERN FIELDS 159
he proceeded to tell that big man more about him-
self 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 amaze-
ment, 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

160 THE SALTING OF THE

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, mem 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

GREAT NORTH-EASTERN FIELDS 161

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, unlock-
ing 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."

162

THE SALTING OF THE FIELDS 163

" 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 regard-
less 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

164 THE SALTING OF THE

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 unbiassed 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 im-
mediately 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

GREAT NORTH-EASTERN FIELDS 165

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 syndi-
cate'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 pro-
fessed 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

166 THE SALTING OF THE

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 genuine-
ness 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.

GREAT NORTH-EASTERN FIELDS 167

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 suddently a shadow stole
silently from the tent occupied by the two pros-
pectors, 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.

168 THE SALTING OF THE FIELDS

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 throw-
ing his arm out with the action of a sower, and the
seeds he sowed sparkled like dewdrops in the moon-
light.

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 unbiassed in-
dividuals, 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 fiat on his face on the warm and ac-
commodating sand-dune, and watched Grosman for
some time : he was prodigal with the diamonds,
and this was undoubtedly destined to be an ex-
ceptionally rich field.

' The question is," reasoned Dick, " how many
169

170 THE SALTING OF THE

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 genuine-
ness of the finds would carry weight with the finan-
ciers— 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 :

GREAT NORTH-EASTERN FIELDS 171

" We don't want no experience — jest 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 con-
tentment 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.

Following the usual routine, the next morning
the two prospectors rode ahead to locate the best
spot for proving this fresh field, the rest of the
expedition following more leisurely. Dick had to
confess that they were most artistic in their methods.
On arriving near the high dune, where he had seen
Grosman giving Fortune a friendly lead in the
small hours of the morning, Dick found to his
astonishment that they were being guided to quite
a different spot at some distance from the carefully
prepared " jeweller's shop." " What the devil does

172 THE SALTING OF THE

this mean ? " mused he, as he rode behind with
the professor and the others. He could not be
mistaken about the spot, for the dune was too
prominent a landmark — yet there were the two
prospectors signalling to them from a place at
least half a mile away from the scene of his noc-
turnal experience. Trotting across to them they
found an argument in full swing.

" Gentlemen," said the other prospector — a tall
slab-sided individual whose English was of a pro-
nounced American flavour — " I don't think this
kind of thing is fair ! I'm here earning the com-
pany's dollars, and I'm about tired of being yanked
around to try spots that Grosman points out. I
guess I'm here to locate the pay-dirt as well as he
is — that's what the company pays me for — that's
what I'm here for — to find out the truth ! No, sir —
not any — I don't. ..."

" Junes," cried Gilderman, " remember your
position ! I'm sure no one ever expressed a doubt
as to the syndicate's finds — and I "

"But look-ee here, Mr. Gilderman," interrupted
the prospector ; " you've got to excuse me. I'm
supposed to look into this thing myself — besides
it's for the blamed fool's own benefit. Any fool
can see that the deepest wash runs the other side
of that dune — not this."

GREAT NORTH-EASTERN FIELDS 173

"Rot," jerked out Grosman; "well, if you want
to go to your damned old place, do so."

High words followed, the experts became par-
tisans, every one was dragged in except Dick and
the Herr Professor, and the latter, flushed and
rattled and his glasses all awry, was at length
appealed to in the matter.

"Ach, gentlemens," said he, beaming from one
to the other, and absolutely exuding good temper
and conciliation ; " why quarrel on this so-splendid
an expedition, hein ? Let us then return to the
Herr Prospector Junes' choice — let us accede to
this so good man's request, hein ? "

" Right," snorted Grosman ; " but if the damned
place is no good don't blame me — and don't con-
demn the field. I can show you where there are
stones, anyway ! "

And so with many a sneer and jeer, and with
an atmosphere of extreme tension pervading the
whole party, Junes was allowed to lead the way to
the spot of his choice. He went straight across
the foot of the big dune, and in a few minutes had
amply justified himself, for there were diamonds
in abundance — the diamonds his confederate Gros-
man had strewn there the night before.

Now Solly's instructions to Dick to lie low, and say
nothing, no matter what he found out, had been

174 THE SALTING OF THE

explicit and insisted upon, and in spite of his instinct
to warn the professor, he might have been content
to " lie low " and go on watching till the trip was
over, had it not been for a certain small but ex-
cessively highly-charged black scorpion that found
its way into Dick's sleeping-bag that night; and
more than making up in " cussedness " what it
lacked in size, gave him an exceedingly warm time
of it. One sting in particular, on a big vein in his
leg, gave him excruciating pain, and though he
applied the universal veldt remedy of nicotine
from his pipe-bowl the agony was so great and the
swelling so alarming that at length he hobbled off
to the professor's tent to see if that learned man
could give him some relief. He found the old
gentleman sleeping soundly and had some difficulty
in rousing him ; but that task accomplished, so
assiduous was the professor in dressing the sting,
and such kindly interest did he display in both
Dick and the defunct scorpion, that Dick, who had
always liked the old chap, almost made up his
mind to tell him all that he had seen and suspected.
The scorpion really settled the question for him,
for the professor had scarcely finished injecting
Dick's leg than he turned his attention to the dead
reptile, at which he had already cast many curious
glances as it lay on his little camp-table beside his

GREAT NORTH-EASTERN FIELDS 175

medicine chest. And now he proceeded to examine
it thoroughly, lighting a powerful acetylene lamp
for the purpose.

And scarcely had the strong rays fallen upon
the black, wicked, lobster-like little iniquity than
the Herr Professor let off a regular yell of delight
and literally fell upon Dick's neck.

" Ach, meine lieber!" he exclaimed ecstatically.
"Aberthisis most wunderbahr! It is of the great
fortune — good luck — what you call him ? — that
he sting you."

" Good luck ? " said the surprised Sydney, feeling
anything but pleased ; " well, professor, it's the
kind of luck that I can very well do without.
Why, the blamed little thing must have been about
a thousand volts strong. Sting ! — why • it must
have squirted about a pint of forked lightning into
me ! Luck ? "

" Of the greatest," said the scientist ; "of the
most colossal. For it is a discovery you have of
him made — he is new — he is wonderful — wunder-
schon — wunderbahr ! "

" You're wrong, professor," protested Dick with
emphasis. " He discovered me. He may be new —
newly charged, anyway ! "

"Of a variety entirely new, Herr Sydney,"
insisted the old professor impressively ; " and

176 THE SALTING OF THE

much would I have given to have been in your
place to discover him."

" You'd have been welcome," said Dick feelingly ;
" but why ? "

" It is my life-work — my stedenferd — my ' hobby '
you call it, hein ? — this study of the arachnids —
spiders — scorpions ! Geology you say ? True —
that is my work — but this other is different — this
I love ! Already have I four large volumes written
upon the known varieties of scorpion — and now
to have been but almost the discoverer of a new
variety — it is hard to have been so near. But at
least I shall be the first to describe — to classify —
that honour you will grant me ? It is hard to have
been so near ! "

" Believe me, professor, it was a good deal harder
to be just where I was. But I see your point, and
feel for you — indeed I may say I'm feeling it quite
a lot even now. I'm mighty sorry the electric
gentleman with the red-hot trousers didn't sample
you first — as you say, it's real hard he didn't. So do
please take the fame and describe all you want ! "

It took a lot of persuasion to make the scientist
see it in the light that Dick did, but after a while
he consented to name the new specimen after
himself, and sat down to examine and gloat over
his treasure.

GREAT NORTH-EASTERN FIELDS 177

But first he showed Dick some of his books —
thick tomes full of illustrations of most weird and
undesirable-looking insects, spiders, scorpions, and
the like, and crammed with learned descriptions
bristling with Latin names ; and he showed such
an innocent delight in his new acquisition that
Dick's mind was made up. He did not like Ger-
mans, but this old chap was so naive, so full of
human-kindness, so innocent and ignorant of all
but his science that it would have been infamous
not to have warned him of what was happening
For Dick could see plainly enough that if nothing
were said this poor kind-hearted old scientist would
have to bear the blame when the gigantic swindle
was at length discovered, and the victimised public
demanded a scapegoat.

He lifted the fly of the tent and looked out.
There was no light in any of the tents, and the
sound of snoring came from them in chorus. Farther
away by the still flickering embers of the camp-
fire could be dimly seen a dozen or more recumbent
forms, where the native boys huddled. The
waning moon was just rising, and except for the
snores all was quiet as only the desert can be ;
yet Dick, when he turned once more towards the
professor, stood with a warning finger on his lips,
and spoke but in a whisper. For he knew that he

M

178 THE SALTING OF THE

and the man he spoke to were the only honest
men in this lonely camp ; and that the others
would not hesitate to put either himself or the
professor out of the way if once they suspected
that their villainy was known, he never doubted.
Not that he was afraid ; but here in the wilds,
with six well-armed and determined men against
him, he saw the need for caution. The professor
he did not count — not just then !

The old man still sat at his little camp-table,
magnifying glass in hand, and at Dick's low " Hist,"
he turned a bland, inquiring gaze in his direction.
Dick came close to him, and with head half averted
so that he could listen for the slightest sound out-
side, he whispered his story. Not a sound came
either from the camp or from his listener till his
brief tale was ended.

" They are all in it — all rogues together, sir," he
whispered in conclusion ; " and it's part of a big
swindle that people will blame you for."

And for the first time since he began his tale he
looked the professor full in the face. He started
with amazement as he did so : for now he saw
not a benign, smiling old scientist, beaming good
nature and affability through his spectacles, but
a stern-faced, iron-mouthed man, whose jaw was
set with grim inflexibility, and whose eyes seemed

GREAT NORTH-EASTERN FIELDS 179

actually to blaze with fury. The big veins stood
out upon his temples, and the hand that still held
the magnifying glass was now clenched in a grip of
iron, that trembled, not from weakness, but from
the violence of his anger and emotion.

Dick saw the man with new eyes : this was no
worn-out old scientist, such as he had deemed
him ; but a man still strong and vigorous, in spite
of his three-score and ten years, a man in whom
the hot blood of passion could still work wonders.
And the younger man realised that if the strong
hand were necessary in this affair, he would by no
means need to play it alone.

" Gott in Himmel!" he muttered hoarsely, as
Dick finished. " Diebstahl und rauberei ! ... and
through me ! For I have been a fool, and I have
been also to blame. Look you, Heir Sydney,
now can I see but too clearly that I have neglected
my work, and looked but little to the fields them-
selves— but to the diamonds and the gravel they
brought with them. Numskull ! dummkopf ! that
I have been — it is but now that I see also how
they have advantage taken of this hobby of mine.
Each day they have brought me spiders, and scor-
pions, and snakes to examine — even now I have
almost a hundred specimens — alive ! And so they
have thrown sand in my eyes, and would have

i8o THE SALTING OF THE

made a criminal of me even as they are themselves.
Schdndlich und verrdtherisch schwein-hunden ! But
for you, friend, they would have robbed me of my
good name, and shamed me before the world. But
for you, friend ! "

As he spoke, still in a hoarse whisper, he rose and
grasped Dick's hand, and strong as the latter was
he winced at the vigour of that iron grip.

" And now — come ! " said he, simply ; turning
as though to leave the tent.

Dick caught his arm. " No ! no ! " said he in a
tense and eager whisper — " what would you do ? "

" Take them — bind them — disarm them . . .
take them prisoners to Luderitzbucht to pay for
their knavery," muttered the old man savagely.
"Six — and with arms, you say! And what care I
for six such schwein-hunden ? And you, Hen-
Sydney — I know you are both strong and fearless ? "

" Oh, nothing would suit me better than to smash
up the whole outfit, but what good would it do ? "
urged Dick. " It's their six words against ours —
or rather against mine so far ! And most of 'em
are German — as you know, and well in with the
authorities in Luderitzbucht. And I'm English —
what hope will my word have against theirs there ?
Besides, sir, the story as it stands will be all against
yourself ! "

GREAT NORTH-EASTERN FIELDS 181

" Donner-wetter, that is wahr ! That will never
do," said the old man naively. "What do you
advise then ? "

" Watch well, and either contrive to catch them
yourself on some of the remaining fields — or say
nothing till we are safely back in Luderitzbucht,"
counselled Dick.

" Never can I so long contain myself with these
thieves. Think you — the company spoke of a
flotation of £500,000 — of half a million pounds —
that these hounds would have caused my name and
my report to rob from the public ! Never can I
contain myself long — but as you wish, friend, I will
try — unless indeed some better plan offers."

Dick crept back quietly to his little patrol tent
and tried to sleep, but pain and excitement kept
him wide-eyed ; and he had scarcely dropped
off when his Hottentot driver awakened him to
tell him that two of the mules had broken their
reims and cleared in the night, apparently making
their way back in a bee-line towards Luderitzbucht.

" I have found their spoor, baas," he said ; " but
they have gone far and fast and it will need a horse
to catch them."

" Saddle mine, quickly, and I will go back my-
self," ordered Dick, with a muttered blessing or
two on the defaulters ; and within a few minutes

182 THE SALTING OF THE

he was cantering over the spoor of yesterday,
along which the mules had bolted. He soon found
where they had left the trail, and in the now clear
light of dawn their spoors showed clearly in the
soft sand. At last he caught sight of them grazing
on a small patch of Bushman grass growing in the
hollow between two dunes, and after a considerable
amount of trouble managed to secure them, and
making them fast to a convenient bush he climbed
a big dune to have a look round and try and mark
out for himself a straight cut back to camp.

He recognised his whereabouts instantly, for
scarcely five hundred yards away rose the big
dune that had been the scene of Grosman's fore-
thought two nights back. The sight of it brought
back Dick's indignation afresh.

" Beastly swabs," he thought, " why they never
even take the trouble to find out if there really are
any diamonds in the blessed fields or not ? From
what I've seen at Kolman's Kop, this place looks
extremely likely. I wonder whether, after all,
they have been a bit too clever ? I'll have a look,
anyway."

Between him and the dune where the bogus
find had been made there stretched a wide, flat
space of comparatively firm ground — a so-called
anp, or shallow vlei, in which at some time

GREAT NORTH-EASTERN FIELDS 183

water had accumulated. Here there was very
little sand, its place being taken by a deposit of
fine loose grit, made up of a variety of tiny stones
all about the size of a small pea.

The prevailing wind, blowing almost continually
in the same direction, had heaped up this grit in
little wave-like ridges — and Dick knew that if there
were diamonds there he would find them near the
crest of these little waves.

He went down on his hands and knees at once,
and almost immediately his eye caught the glitter
of a diamond. And there was another — and
another ! And Dick, as he picked up stone after
stone, realised that by sheer luck he had stumbled
upon far the richest deposit he had ever seen or
heard of — and realised too that these clever scoun-
drels had over-reached themselves. There had
been no need of salting — had they but taken the
trouble to search systematically they must have
found this spot — had they but walked a few hun-
dred yards from the spot they had salted last,
this " Tom Tiddler's Ground " had awaited
them !

Incredibly and incalculably rich it was ; for
Dick, in the hour or so that he permitted himself
the luxury of picking them up, well-nigh filled his
pockets with the glittering little gems, and yet he

184 THE SALTING OF THE

had scarcely moved a yard from where he had

picked up the first.

The power of the blazing sun, now beating down
upon him from high in the heavens, first admonished
him of the fact that it was getting late, and that he
must get back to camp, or probably some one
would be coming to look for him.

" And that would never do," said Dick to him-
self; "no one must know of this but the pro-
fessor."

So, reluctantly leaving his newly-found bonanza,
he tied up the double-handful of diamonds in his
old red handkerchief, thrust it in the bosom of his
khaki shirt, and securing the two errant mules
he struck across country to the camp.

He found that during his absence a farther field
had been successfully " tested " ; and the meaning
look the professor gave him when the latter rode
into camp with the returning party, and voiced
his satisfaction at the morning's " find," left no
doubt in Dick's mind but that the old man had
profited by his advice, and would yet fool the
would-be foolers ! Itching as he was to impart
the news of his splendid discovery to the professor,
he had no opportunity of seeing him alone during
the rest of the day ; and he could only try to possess
his soul with patience till night fell and the others

GREAT NORTH-EASTERN FIELDS 185

were asleep. But that night the professor had a
different plan in view.

" Gentlemens," said the old man when supper
was finished, and they sat smoking by the fire ;
" now that this so successful expedition arrives at
so near its conclusion, shall we not celebrate our
good fortune ? To-day is not our find of diamonds
more rich than of ever ? Let us drink then to our
great good fortune, to the diamonds we have found,
and to those we hope again to find to-morrow !
Come ! " He led the way to his tent, and diving
under his bed he hauled out a case of wine. Strong,
heady wine Dick found it, and the warning glance
the old man gave him as he filled his glass the
second time, made him sip but lightly of the potent
liquor.

Not so the two experts, or the prospectors, or
the other members of the little coterie of scoundrels ;
who, safe in the assumption that they had hood-
winked the professor thoroughly, drank deep and
made merry like men without a care. Bottle
after bottle was opened, and soon one of the experts
began to snore ; and it was the professor himself
who broke up the merry party by saying : " Gentle-
mens ; to-morrow have we a long day and a long
ride before us to test the other fields. And the
Herr Prospector Junes — he must ride before us —

186 THE SALTING OF THE

always, is it not ? — the test places to locate together
with his comrade. And this so good man — see !
he sleeps already ! Let us then to rest. But first
fill again your glasses and drink deep. To the
diamonds we have found — and to the discovery
you will make to-morrow ! "

Surely the wine was very potent, for Dick—'
thanks to the warning glances of the professor —
had drank but little, yet he could scarcely keep
awake ; whilst Junes and Grosman were snoring
like pigs, and could scarcely be awakened suffi-
ciently to enable them to stagger to their tent.
Dick barely managed to get to his own before
sleep overcame him too, and his last hazy thought
was : " That wine was drugged — the professor
must have got another plan ! "

Once, in the night, he had a dim notion that
some one was trying to waken him ; that some one —
was it the professor ? — was shaking him and whis-
pering fiercely in his ear, " Wake, man — you must
help me — wake ! " But it all seemed like part
of a dream, and he was too overpoweringly sleepy
to be able to rouse — and the remembrance of this
only came long after.

But at last he did awake ; his head was buzzing
and Andreas the Hottentot was shaking him.
"Baas, baas; wake up," he was saying; "I

GREAT NORTH-EASTERN FIELDS 187

cannot wake the others ! Allemactag ! How they
sleep — like dead men ! "

It was broad daylight ; long past the hour when
the prospectors should have ridden on ahead to
locate the fields. Their horses, ready saddled,
stood before their tent ; and from it came the
sound of stertorous snoring.

Dick walked over and shook the men ; and at
last they stumbled shakily to their feet, and made
their way to the experts' tent, muttering something
about instructions ; but really, as Dick realised,
to get the wherewithal to salt the remaining claims.

Usually this proceeding was carried out long
before daylight and with no one to watch. Now,
however, the whole camp was astir ; the old pro-
fessor was washing in front of his tent in the tiny
modicum of water allowed him for the purpose,
boys were hurrying here and there preparing break-
fast ; and Dick smiled grimly as he noticed that
as Junes and Grosman entered the experts' tent
they carefully closed the fly behind them.

He looked across at the professor, who had paused
in his ablutions to look in the direction of the tent,
and now stood, a comical enough looking object,
his face covered in soap-suds, watching for the
reappearance of the prospectors.

Dick and he exchanged a glance of intelligence, and

i88 THE SALTING OF THE FIELDS

Dick took a step towards the old man, intending to
whisper to him the news of what he had found the
day before ; but before he could do so there came
a shout from the tent, followed by a volley of oaths
and ejaculations, the sound of a scuffle, and out
into the open burst the two prospectors, locked
together in a desperate struggle.

" Hound — schwein-hund, robber ! " gasped Gros-
man, as, with his face purple with rage and exertion
he temporarily got the better of his long and wiry
opponent, and bore him back ; " scoundrel that you
are — you could not play straight even with me !
Where are the diamonds — hound — where have you
hidden them ? "

" Yes, where are they ? Own up, you thief/'
chorused the two experts, who, pallid and debauched
looking, now stood beside the two struggling men :
and Dick now noticed that Gilderman held the small
strong box — and that it was open, and empty. The
diamonds had gone !

CHAPTER IV

THE whole camp had now clustered round the fallen
men, the professor grotesque in his thickly lathered
face, Dick intensely interested and enjoying this
fall-out among thieves, the experts and financial
men voluble and uneasy.

And still Grosman knelt upon his slighter opponent,
and still he gasped curses and questions ; keeping
so tight a grip upon Junes' throat that his eyes were
starting from his head — and he could scarce breathe,
much less answer.

" Here — loosen him a bit ! " said Dick, grasping
the big man by the shoulder. " Do you hear ?
You'll choke the man — and how the blazes can he
answer you when you hold him like that ? Now
then — what's the matter ? "

" The diamonds are gone," said the glib Gilder-
man. " We each have a key on a chain round our
necks. They were safe when we went to bed. The
box was locked then — now it is open and the stones

are gone."

189

igo THE SALTING OF THE

" He has them — the hound," said Grosman, " we
had arranged — schwein-hund," he yelled again, " it
was to have been to-morrow night — and you have
stolen them from me : where have you buried
them ? "

P Come off it," said Dick savagely — for Junes
was again choking — and this time he twisted Gros-
man's arm till he freed the under man's throat.
" Now then, Junes — what have you got to say ? "

" Liar and thief himself," gasped the half-choked
Junes, " he has taken them while I slept. We had
planned ... Oh ! let me up, damn you, and I'll
tell them of your plan, you robbing, thieving swine,
that can't play straight even with your pal ! Let
me up, you German hog : let me get a holt on you,
and I'll show you. Let me up ! "

" Let him up," said Dick, filled with keen enjoy-
ment at seeing these two unprincipled scoundrels
mauling each other, and only regretting the fact
that the equally rascally onlookers did not take
a hand ; "let him up, man ; give him fair play, and
let's hear all about it."

And aided by the strong arm of the still soapy
professor, he hauled the furious Grosman off his
prey.

And now comedy changed instantly to tragedy,
for the panting Junes, springing to his feet, drew

GREAT NORTH-EASTERN FIELDS 191

his revolver and fired point-blank at his late assail-
ant. Grosman spun half round, his mouth opened
in a ghastly grin, and making two staggering steps,
he fell to the ground, whilst Junes, profiting by the
confusion, sprang to his horse and vaulted into the
saddle.

" Hands up," he shouted, covering the group
with his revolver. " I shoot the first man who moves.
Grosman, you dog, where are the stones ? "

The dying man partly raised himself, and fixed an
awful gaze upon his murderer. " Murderer and
thief ! " he gasped, " you have them yourself — I
never woke till Sydney shook me ! "

" Hell ! . . ." said Junes, " I believe you now !
There's more roguery here than even I knew of !
Hark you, Gilderman, and you other sharks — and
keep your hands up. Professor, and you, Sydney —
listen ! These other men are thieves all — they've
paid us to salt every patch they've tried, so far !
They brought over a thousand carats of diamonds
stolen from Kolman's Kop to do it with — I know
who they bought them from ! And Grosman and
I thought they deserved to be robbed, and we in-
tended doing so to-night. But one of these swine
must have thought of the same game, and hid the
stones somewhere. Own up, you cowardly blighters
— which of you has taken them — where are they ?

192 THE SALTING OF THE

Quick ! . . . Keep your distance; Sydney — this
ain't your trouble, and if you move again I'll put a
bullet through you," he continued ; for Dick was
edging near with an idea of making a spring at the
armed and desperate man, " and you, professor,
help Grosman. ... I'm sorry I shot you now,
Heinriech ! Now then, I want those diamonds
quick, you Jo'burg sharps ! "

The four scared men raised their voices in a chorus
of protestations, in the middle of which Dick's eye
caught sight of something over Junes' shoulder that
caused him to start involuntarily. About half a
mile away a small cloud of dust was rising. Some-
thing or somebody was coming, and quickly
too.

Slight as had been Dick's movement, Junes had
noted it, and still covering the group, he swung his
horse round till he could glance in the direction
of the little cloud of dust, through which two horse-
men could now be seen ; and the glitter of the sun
on their rifles showed them to be armed men —
probably mounted police.

A bitter curse broke from Junes' pale lips.
" Police, by God ! " he said ; " they're too near or

I'd shoot all four of you whining swine. Hell !

and I've killed Grosman for nothing ! "

And furiously lashing his startled horse he spurred

GREAT NORTH-EASTERN FIELDS 193

madly away, striking savagely with his sjambok at
the cowering quartette as he passed.

" A rifle — a rifle — " gasped the wounded man,
now plainly dying, and his ghastly face more awful
by the look of terrible vindictiveness it now wore —
" shoot — at — the horse ! "

But before a rifle was forthcoming the two
mounted police rode into camp. They were bronzed,
burly men, arrayed in a corduroy uniform, with
a wide felt hat bearing a large Imperial crown in
gilt as a badge, and were fully armed with Mauser
rifles, revolver and light sabre.

" Donnerwetter ! " exclaimed the leader, a big
sergeant, or wachtmeister, as they cantered up.
" What is this— murder ? "

" Murder — and there goes the murderer ! " said
the professor.

' And is it you, Brandt ? " he exclaimed, as he
looked into the sergeant's face.

" Brandt is my name — it is true," said the
wachtmeister gruffly, as he peered at the soap-
lathered countenance before him, " but who are
you ? I can see naught but soap. . . . Himmel,"
he shouted joyfully, as the professor beamed back
at him, " I was blind. It is my dear and honoured
Herr Professor from Munich ! Now, Gott sie dank,
I see you again after all these years ! "

N

194 THE SALTING OF THE

"It is indeed I, Brandt," said the professor,
" but spur, man, spur, and bring back that man —
we must talk later ! "

With a sharp word to the trooper, Brandt un-
slung his rifle and spurred headlong after the fleeing
horseman, now rapidly nearing the shelter of the
dunes.

Meanwhile, the professor and Dick turned their
attention to the dying man, whilst the others
resumed the clamour of questions and recriminations
which the arrival of the police had interrupted.

Gilderman, his self-confidence almost restored by
the approaching death of one, and the flight of the
other of his accusers, now tried to brazen matters
out.

Thrusting himself before Dick, who was helping
dress the wound, he bent down before Grosman and
began loudly, so that all might hear. " Now then,
Grosman, where are those diamonds ? It is a most
outrageous thing that you have done, to rob your
employers in this manner. And that ridiculous lie
of Junes' about salting ! Come, man, tell me
where the diamonds are, and tell these people that
Junes made up that yarn — as you know he did
— and I'll try to save you from the police. Come
now — own up — where are the stones ? "

" You cannot save him from death — and the

GREAT NORTH-EASTERN FIELDS 195

Maker who will judge him," said the professor
sternly as he came from his tent with his medicine
chest. " Man, think shame to pester the man so;
men do not lie on their deathbed " ; and as Gilder-
man did not move he swung him aside by the
collar as though he had been a child.

Gilderman uttered a furious exclamation. " Ab-
surd— preposterous — professor, surely you are not
mad enough to believe the story this would-be
thief has told ? "

" Story ? " queried the professor, " what story
has he told ? Junes, yes ! but this man, so far,
has accused you of nothing ! "

Gilderman flushed with vexation at the false
step he had made.

" But the diamonds ? " he insisted, " he confessed
they had planned to steal them. Make him tell
you where they are ? "

" Maybe the police will bring them back with
Junes," said the professor, going on with his work
of dressing the wound. " And if not — you ask ?
Well, Herr Gilderman, what does it matter — a
thousand carats or so ! The rich fields you found
them on are still there — it took but a few hours to
find the stones — surely we can return to those so
rich fields and find again a thousand carats !
Hein ? "

196 THE SALTING OF THE

Gilderman answered nothing, but if looks could
have killed the old professor, who did not even
look at him, and Dick, who grinned maliciously
full in his face, both of them would have preceded
Grosman.

Just then a faint shot sounded in the direction
of the pursuit. It was followed by another and
another . . . then a regular fusillade.

" They are kneeling on the top of the first dune,"
called Jelder from a little rise a few yards away.
<' Now they are mounting again — and coming
back."

" Then he's got away," said Dick, " his horse
was fresh — and they looked as though they had
ridden far."

" Curse him — may he roast in hell," whispered
the dying man, " but what he said was true."

" Hush," said the professor, " do not try to talk
now. Save your breath, man, and tell your story
only to the police. And remember I can do but
little for you — your time is very short."

By this the police came cantering back into
camp. " We hit him," said the wachtmeister. " I
saw him stagger in the saddle just as he got into
the big dunes. His horse was fresh and ours were
fagged, it was useless to follow farther. If he is
badly hit we shall find him at the waterhole — if

GREAT NORTH-EASTERN FIELDS 197

not he will run right into the arms of the patrol
we meet there. And now, what is all this about ? "

Gilderman took up the tale in voluble German,
and it was now evident that, shaken by the pro-
testations of the dying man, and of his murderer,
he was now suspicious of Jelder, who had held a
key to the box in common with himself. He had
been awakened by the outcry that the prospectors
made when they saw the empty box lying by the
side of the bed. His key — he remarked pointedly —
was still fast round his neck — perhaps, he added
significantly, Jelder had left his lying about over-
night ? Jelder flushed angrily, and drawing his
key out by the thin gold chain that secured it
beneath his vest, shook it in Gilderman' s face, when
mutual recriminations began without undue loss
of time.

The old professor's wine had done its work well
— in more ways than one.

Their colleagues, Zweiter and Spattboom, instantly
took sides, and so they wrangled and vociferated,
what time the big German wachtmeister made
voluminous notes in a big pocket book.

During all this, the old professor said not a word,
though there was a grim twinkle in his eye as he
noted the spread of the quarrel.

Aided by Dick, he had now finished attending to the

igS THE SALTING OF THE

dying man, whom they had taken into the professor's
tent, and who lay gasping painfully, with the air
whistling through the hole Junes' bullet had made
in his lungs. He whispered something hoarsely
and painfully to the professor.

" Come, Herr wachtmeister," the latter called to
the big sergeant, " the man has but little time, and
would make a statement."

The sergeant came and knelt by the dying man.
" Where are the diamonds," he asked, pencil in
hand.

" Nein, ich wissen nicht," gasped Grosman, " stoop
lower, and I will tell all ... I know."

" He lies," said Gilderman and Jelder together,
crowding near to the bed. " Herr wachtmeister,
why listen to him — he lies ! "

" Silence," stormed the wachtmeister fiercely,
" your time will come to speak — stand back. And
how know you if he lies — before he speaks ? Back !"
And he forced them to do so, whilst in short, sobbing
gasps, the dying man told of the whole knavery :
how they had been bribed to do the actual salting,
how each day Gilderman and Jelder had given them
a certain number of stones to strew in likely places,
and find ostentatiously in sight of the professor,
how he and Junes had conceived the idea of stealing
the diamonds and burying them where they could

GREAT NORTH-EASTERN FIELDS 199

find them later, and how, when that morning they
had overslept and entered the tent late and seen
the strong box lying there empty, each had instantly
suspected the other of stealing a march upon him.
But dying he, Grosman, swore he knew nothing of
the stones — nor did he now believe that Junes
did!

" Those thieves — those men who first put tempta-
tion in our way — they know — ask them — curse
them ! " he concluded, whilst the sergeant peremp-
torily demanded silence from the accused men, who
were storming angrily at the dying man's denuncia-
tion.

" Brietmann," he called to his comrade, " search
all the tents — everything ! I arrest you all — let no
man move till a search has been made. Now,"
he eontinued, rising from the dying man's side, and
turning on them, " which of you has the diamonds ? "

" Why should we steal them — why believe the
tale of this thief who owns he meant to steal them
— why believe him against us ? " they demanded —
united again now, in their efforts to discredit
Grosman.

" One at a time," said the wachtmeister angrily,
" and silence you others." And he proceeded to
catechise and badger them one by one, filling page
after page of his notebook with their replies.

200 THE SALTING OF THE

Meanwhile Brietmann searched tent after tent ;
ransacking bags, portmanteaux and boxes, shaking
out clothing and blankets, and prying into every
conceivable article in a vain endeavour to find the
stones ; whilst the indignant quartette under
examination broke out again and again in a storm
of impotent wrath.

In the middle of this hubbub the professor's voice
was heard for the first time.

" Hush!" he commanded sternly, " in the name
of common humanity, hush ! at least for a minute.
The man is dying."

Even as he spoke, Grosman, the death rattle in his
throat, in a last convulsive effort, raised himself on
his elbow, and with a terrible look on his face pointed
an accusing finger at Gilderman and the group round
him, and with a last choking attempt at speech fell
back dead.

Immediately Brietmann, who had finished his
search in the other tents, and stood looking on,
addressed the wachtmeister :

" There is nothing there," he said, " and there
remains but this — the Herr Professor's tent — to
search."

The wachtmeister turned apologetically to the
professor :

" The Herr Professor will permit ? " he asked.

GREAT NORTH-EASTERN FIELDS 201

" And why this indignity, Brandt ? " demanded
the professor sternly.

"It is my duty, Herr Professor ; in such cases I
may not discriminate," apologised Brandt, " and
it is but a matter of form."

"So be it — search ! " and the offended professor
turned again to the dead man, ignoring the indus-
trious Brietmann, who emptied bags, unlocked
boxes, peered into jars of chemicals, and generally
upset the scientist's most sacred possessions.

At length, in a dark corner of the tent, Brietmann
came to a black box secured with a big padlock.

" Herr Professor," he called ; " this box. It is
locked."

The professor simply grunted.

' The key, Herr Professor," he persisted.

" I advise you to leave that box alone," growled
the owner.

" It must be opened, nicht warum, wachtmeister ? "
asked Brietmann of the sergeant.

" Ja wohl," said the wachtmeister.

" Again I advise you not," said the old man.
" Surely there is no need ; I do not wish it opened."

By now every one was looking at the professor
with wonder or suspicion — even Dick could not
understand his reluctance to have the box opened.

" Sehr gut," said he, as all eyes were turned on

202 THE SALTING OF THE

him, " take the key ! " and he flung it over to where
Brietmann knelt by the box.

The policeman fumbled with the lock, threw back
the lid, and simultaneously gave vent to a terrific
yell, as he flung himself violently backwards. For
from the open box rose the writhing forms of half
a dozen big cobras, their hoods flattened and arched,
vicious and ready to strike, whilst over one of the
corners came gliding the broad flattened head and
bloated body of a huge puff-adder.

Within five seconds no one remained in the big
tent but the dead man and the professor, who,
laughing softly, proceeded to collect his straying
pets ; showing an utter disregard of any danger of
being bitten, accountable for by the fact that he had
removed every fang from the poisonous specimens
long before.

Dick had been as lively as any one in making
tracks, for he had a horror of snakes, and as he
burst from the tent his foot caught in a guy-rope and
down he went with the big wachtmeister sprawling
on top of him. Both scrambled up in quick time,
for each of them imagined he had snakes crawling
all over him, but as Dick rose to his feet, out from
the bosom of his shirt fell the red handkerchief full
of diamonds he had found the day before, and as it
fell out rolled a dozen or more of the little brilliants

GREAT NORTH-EASTERN FIELDS 203

and lay there flashing and sparkling in the sun-
light.

" Donner-wetter ! " yelled the wachtmeister , " the
diamonds ! Here is the thief ! " And instantly he
seized Dick in a formidable grip.

Curses and execrations burst from the other
men, who, wildly excited, crowded round Dick and
the diamonds — threatening and exulting.

" Thief ! Scoundrel ! Rascally mule-driver !
Schwein-hund ! " they cried.

" The handcuffs, Brietmann ! Quick ! " shouted
the sergeant, and Dick realised instantly the serious-
ness of his position. He had had no opportunity
of telling the professor of the find he had made ; and
who among these rogues — each eager to fix the
guilt on some one else and discredit the tale both
the dead man and Junes had told — would believe him
if he told the story now ?

The quantity of diamonds he had found about
equalled the stolen contents of the box, and things
could scarcely look blacker for him. He knew the
law was likely to be severe with him, as a Britisher
he would probably get the extreme sentence. There
was no one but the professor to appeal to — and,
bitter thought — would even he believe him with all
this damning evidence against him ? All this passed
through his mind in an instant, as he stood in

204 THE SALTING OF THE

amazement, too taken aback to speak, and passively
staring at the fallen diamonds.

Then the wachtmeister' s grip tightened, as Briet-
mann hurried up, making ready the handcuffs as
he came.

" I did not steal them ! " shouted Dick, finding
his tongue at last. " I will explain. Professor !
Professor ! I did not steal them ! "

" Lying rogue," said, or rather snarled Gilderman,
thrusting his face close to Dick's, and filled with the
rage of a lately frightened man. " Filthy donkey-
driver and thief — you were too miserable and con-
temptible for us even to suspect ! "

And secure in the fact that the wachtmeister held
Dick, he struck the latter across the face with his
open hand.

Before he had time to draw back things happened.

Dick, blazing with fury at the indignity, wrenched
himself free of the wachtmeister, as though that big
man had been a child, struck Gilderman a terrific
smash on the nose that flattened it and him instantly,
and seizing Jelder, who had tried to trip him, he
threw that unfortunate Israelite on the top of his
colleague. But now the other men flung them-
selves upon Dick simultaneously, and for a short
but crowded period a most memorable scrap took
place in and round that little prospecting camp.

GREAT NORTH-EASTERN FIELDS 205

Dick, as he afterwards expressed it, was " all out "
in that brief but brisk encounter, and fought with
every limb and muscle he possessed.

Borne down by sheer numbers for a moment, he
succeeded in twisting Brietmann under him, and
his knee, judiciously planted in the plump police-
man's embonpoint as they fell, with the weight of
the other crowd on top of them, drove all the wind
out of that unfortunate man, who, for a time, took
no further interest in the proceedings.

Dick felt him gasp and subside, and at that very
moment his hand came in contact with the heavy
steel handcuffs. Here was a weapon worth having,
and with such odds against him Dick had no hesita-
tion in using it, and swinging them round blindly
at the arms clutching at him, he felt them meet
flesh and bone with a soul-satisfying crunch. A
sharp yelp followed, and Dick felt the scrum above
him lighten, as Zweiter retired from the fray, spitting
blood and curses in a polyglot and highly satisfactory
manner.

But now the big wachtmeister , a powerful and
athletic man, was less cumbered by his would-be
helpers, and getting a firm grip on Dick with both
arms he gradually forced him down on the unfortun-
ate Brietmann, whilst Spattboom, his one remaining
helper, valiantly clung to Dick's frantically kicking

206 THE SALTING OF THE

legs. With a last desperate effort the latter twisted
himself sufficiently to allow his free arm to again
swing the handcuffs, and this time they caught the
wachtmeister neatly on the nose, setting that organ
bleeding profusely, and raising the big Teuton's
angry passions to a boiling-over point.

So far, to do him but justice, he had made no
attempt to use his revolver, but now, roused by the
blow, and furious at the sight of his own blood, he
immediately released Dick and drew his weapon.

Dick heard the click of the hammer as he
cocked it : heard too the furious " Schwein-hund
Engldnder ! — I'll shoot you dead for that ! " saw
the muzzle thrust within a few inches of his head,
and shut his eyes.

And as he did so the wachtmeister was hauled back
by the shirt collar with terrific force, and flung back
on the sand with his neck almost broken, whilst the
bullet meant for Dick's brains sang over the neigh-
bouring sand-dune. A vigorous kick sent Dick's
remaining assailant flying, and he scrambled to his
feet to see the professor calmly taking possession of
the half-stunned wachtmeister' s pistol.

" Enough," he exclaimed, " think shame, Brandt,
to shoot an unarmed man ! That would be cowardly,
and you are no coward ! They taught you not such
unbillig spiel at the gymnasium at Munich."

GREAT NORTH-EASTERN FIELDS 207

" Unarmed ! " spluttered the wachtmeister , " he
has the handcuffs — and my nose is smashed ! Herr
Professor, you must not stand between me and my
prisoner. With all respect — no ! Brietmann, you
schwein-hund / . . . never have I seen such a
dummkopf / . . . Secure him, I say ! "

" Hold ! " roared the professor, " touch him not
till I hear what all this is about. Besides, the man
will kill you ! Never have I seen a better fighter —
or a better fight ! And fair play he shall have.
And explain — I saw not the beginning of all this —
what has the Herr Sydney done ? "

" Done," snarled Gilderman, sidling near, his face
bruised and discoloured from Dick's first upper-
cut, " done ! — why don't you see the thieving hound
has stolen the diamonds — there they lay — they fell
from his shirt, the dirty thief ! "

Apparently for the first time, the professor's
glance fell upon the red handkerchief with the
diamonds, and he picked them up, and stood
balancing them in his hand and look ng from Dick
to Gilderman before he replied.

" Professor," began Dick, finding his tongue again ;
" I am no thief — that you can bear witness. I "

The professor interrupted him with a gesture.

" So," said he slowly, " and it was for this you
attacked an unarmed and innocent man ? "

208 THE SALTING OF THE FIELDS

" Innocent," spluttered Jelder, " this is too
thick ! There lie the stones — who took them if he
didn't ? "

" I did," said the professor.

CHAPTER V

THERE was silence for a few seconds — except for
a universal gasp of wonder, which as far as Dick
was concerned was mingled with relief and admira-
tion.

For here was this wonderful old professor, who
had already been a surprise packet to Dick in
several ways, weighing in with a most finished
and artistic lie, just in the nick of time to save
him — when everything appeared lost !

" You ! " cried Gilderman, as the professor
stood, still holding Brandt's revolver, and smiling
blandly at the group of mauled and discomfited
scoundrels ; " You ? "

" Yes ! " he thundered, his jaw setting sternly
again. "I — I, who you thought to dupe. I, who
have seen through your perfidious plan from
the first (' Oh, oh ! ' thought Dick, ' that's for
the benefit of the police.') I, who you would
have made the scapegoat for your villainy — at
the cost of my name and honour — I took the
stones.

209 Q

210 THE SALTING OF THE

" Come, Herr wachtmeister, take your revolver
and listen. There is no need for further conceal-
ment. I drugged these men last night, and took
the stones — foreseeing clearly that these scoundrels
would quarrel when the loss was discovered — and
they realised that they could salt no more — nor take
back the lying ' proof ' they relied upon for their
scheme. And it fell out as I had believed —
though I did not foresee that murder would be
done before I could prevent it. ... And I gave
them to the Herr Sydney to guard for me — for he
was the only honest man among this crowd of
scoundrels — and I am an old and feeble man ! "

The big wachtmeister rubbed his throttled throat
feelingly, and grunted dissent, whilst the accused
and desperate quartette broke into angry protesta-
tions.

" Deny it as you like," said the professor, " Gros-
man swore it with his dying breath, Junes swore it
after he had shot him, Sydney saw the salting with
his own eyes."

" The word of a murderer, a delirious man, and a
thief — against that of four gentlemen ! " Gilder-
man exclaimed, bluffing desperately for the benefit
of the wachtmeister and Brietmann ; who had
pulled themselves together, and stood looking with
lowering brows from one to the other.

GREAT NORTH-EASTERN FIELDS 211

" Gentlemen ! — Lieber Gott ! Then gentlemen, if
you still persist in your innocence, it is but of the
simplest thing for you to prove it. The Herr
wachtmeister will take us all back to Luderitzbucht,
and on the way, what is simpler than to again test
the rich spots from which you obtained so easily
these thousand carats, hein ? If you found these
there — there will be others, nicht warum ? And
then I will say that I am sorry ! And meanwhile
the wachtmeister can keep the stones. And I will
answer for this last ' theft ' — I, whose name is
worth more than a thousand such ' gentlemen ' as
these ! And now, Herr wachtmeister — or rather
shall I say my dear pupil of the old Munchener
days ? I regret that I have hurt your throat,
but I am sure you would rather that, than be
guilty of shooting an innocent and unarmed man
— who, I am sure, was first assaulted by these
gentlemen."

" Ja wohl," grumbled the wachtmeister ; " that
is true, that coward there struck him after I had
seized his arms. Aber donner-wetter, Herr Professor,
why not have told me this — there in the tent — long
ago ? It would have saved me a broken nose
from this ' innocent, unarmed ' Englander of yours,
and an almost broken neck from yourself ! Tausend
! I remember that grip of yours in the

212 THE SALTING OF THE

gymnasium of old ! Lieber Gott ! — but the years
have not weakened it. And with this devil incar-
nate of an Englander to aid you, what had you
to fear from six such as these ? Why did you not
bundle the whole lot back and have them locked
up? "

" They were all armed, and we were not," said the
professor.

" Then we will disarm them," said Brandt, and
covering them with his revolver he made Briet-
mann do so — taking away the revolver that each
man carried, and taking not the slightest notice of
their protests.

" And now you are under arrest," he told them,
" and at any attempt to escape you will be
shot."

Then blowing a whistle, he summoned the camp
boys — who, in mortal fear of the police, had obeyed
their first order to remain with the horses some
distance away ; and who would have seen the
white men kill each other till none were left, before
daring to disobey that order — and told them harshly
to bury Grosman, and prepare to strike camp
and trek immediately.

Dick, who had stood as one in a dream, and let
the professor do all the talking, now shook himself
together sufficiently to hand over the handcuffs

GREAT NORTH-EASTERN FIELDS 213

to Brietmann — who only glared at him — and
apologised to Brandt for the unlucky blow he had
given him.

" I bear no malice, friend Englander," said the
wachtmeister , " but you have broken my nose.
And some day I should like to meet you in friendly
ringen-spiel — I think I would pay you in full for
that blow ! "

" Nothing would suit me better," said Dick
eagerly, for he regretted the blow almost, but not
quite, as much as the wachtmeister, and he was a
past master at wrestling. " Whenever you like,
Herr Brandt ; shall we try a fall now ? "

" Himmel, no ! " said the big fellow, " I have
had plenty for one day if you have not. We must
postpone the pleasure."

Dick set about the business of striking camp, and
for a time was fully occupied. Meanwhile his mind
was in a whirl. That the professor had invented
a plausible lie on the spur of the instant to save
him, was of course obvious ; but it was apparently
not all lie, for he had certainly drugged the wine
the previous evening !

But the stones — who had got them ? He could
have sworn that Junes had told the truth as he
rode away — murderer though he was ! And Gros-
man — would a dying man lie ?

214 THE SALTING OF THE

He was itching to get near the professor alone, to
tell him his own story — possibly the old man
believed him to be the thief — although he had lied
to save him.

Altogether the whole thing was a puzzle. Mean-
while he went on with his work. Tents were struck,
packs made up, and pack animals laden, and soon
all that remained of the camp was the trestle, on
which, covered with a sheet, lay the still form of
Grosman. The wachtmeister sang out a brief
order, two of the Hottentots rapidly shovelled out
a shallow grave in the sand, barely covering the
murdered man. Dick stood by with his hat off —
he had barely escaped a bullet himself but an hour
before !

" Poor beggar," he thought, " shot and buried
like a dog, and all because these bigger scoundrels
tempted him to run crooked. And he was some
woman's son — some one will mourn him. Buried
like a dog ! "

But it was not so ; for looking up he saw the
professor, bareheaded, standing beside the grave,
prayer-book in hand ; and he stood silent and
respectful whilst the old man read a short solemn
prayer for the dead in his native German.

Then mounting their horses they trotted after
the already moving cavalcade, leaving the forlorn

GREAT NORTH-EASTERN FIELDS 215

little mound and the dead ashes of the camp fire
alone marking where their camp had stood.

The police officers rode ahead, the four con-
spirators, silent and dejected, a short distance
behind them, and Dick and the professor brought
up the rear. Gradually they fell farther behind,
till well out of earshot of the others, and Dick at
last had the chance to tell the story of how he
found the stones.

" Professor," he began, in low eager tones, " I
cannot thank you enough for inventing that story
to save me. But you must not think I am a thief !
These are not the stones from the box — I did not
steal them."

" I know that," interrupted the professor, " but
where got you these ? "

" This side the big dune where I first saw Grosman
salting two days ago. They lie there in thousands.
I got these in an hour or so."

" Now Gott sie Dank ! " said the professor joyfully.
"These rascals then have too clever been, and the
ground is in truth rich ! Gott sie Dank ! Our trip
has not been in vain. But neither the police nor
these knaves must know . . . and we must ride
on quick. For I bade them test the ground again
where they salted — and that is the first place, and
they must find nothing."

216 THE SALTING OF THE

" We are nearly there," said Dick, " and it's
risky. For where they salted is barely 300 yards
from where the stones lie thick. But we must
take them to where they picked their own up —
and they won't search far — they are too down
at mouth for that. But, professor, where are
the real stones ? Who stole them ? Who has
them ? "

" Ach, that is the mystery," replied the professor,
and spurred his horse on before Dick could ask him
any more.

An hour later they came to the big dune, the
scene of Grosman's salting, and here Dick, with
mixed feelings, stood by whilst Gilderman made his
last attempt at bluff — setting the boys to work with
sieves, whilst he and his colleagues searched all
around the vicinity of that last " rich find," and, of
course, finding nothing ; whilst had he known it,
but a bare stone's throw or two away they were
lying in abundance.

Dick could almost have found it in his heart to
pity him, as the despairing, cadaverous wretch at
length gave up the hopeless search.

Late that evening, as they approached the first
waterhole, the wachtmeister pointed significantly
to a saddled horse cropping quietly near by, whilst
as they got nearer the pits, five or six big vultures

GREAT NORTH-EASTERN FIELDS 217

flapped lazily away. " I knew I hit him," said the
wachtmeister significantly.

" Junes," thought Dick ; " now if they find he
really has the stones what will happen then ? "

Junes it was : they found all that the vultures had
left of him lying there by the water, with a ghastly
bullet-hole through back and shoulder. The marvel
was that he had lived to ride so far. But there
were no diamonds, and Dick was more mystified
than ever. A few pencilled words, scrawled on the
leaf of a pocket-book, again telling the tale of the
salting and naming Gilderman as the chief con-
spirator, lay pinned to the dead man's shirt, and the
wachtmeister, as he read it, called out grimly to
them to come and look at another piece of their
work.

Reluctantly they came closer to the awful thing
that had once been Junes, whilst the police sergeant,
long since inured to such sights — all too frequent
in the desert — read aloud the note, and asked them
if they still denied the testimony of the two
dead men. Gilderman in vain endeavoured to
brazen it out, and the wachtmeister, changing his
tactics, forced him and the others to look close
at what had been a face, and identify it as that
of Junes.

The terrible plan succeeded, for at the gruesome

218 THE SALTING OF THE

sight, the little bravado left in them gave way
entirely. Gilderman, physically sick, staggered away
a yard or two and fell in a faint, and Jelder, whimper-
ing like a child, broke down utterly. " Gott in
Himmel," he cried, " what a death ! I can't stand
any more of this ! Yes, it is true we were all in it —
but the plan was Gilderman's."

Again the wachtmeister made notes ; and in their
efforts to stand in as well as possible, each now
tried to further implicate the other, till the sergeant
closed his book and roughly bade them be silent,
and keep their precious tale for the Richter in
Windhuk, who would try them.

As they rode into Luderitzbucht a week later,
one of the first men that Dick saw was Solly, who
in the excitement of the past few weeks he had
almost forgotten the existence of. But as he saw
the little Jew, who had stood by him before and who
had been instrumental in getting him his job, he
remembered that Solly would expect a full account
of all that had happened, and the question was —
should he tell him of the stones he had found, or
only of the salting ?

However, he had neither time nor opportunity
to say anything then, for encountering the little
cavalcade just as the wachtmeister led it up to the
police station, he opened his little twinkling eyes

GREAT NORTH-EASTERN FIELDS 219

wide at the sight of the four dejected — and most
obvious — prisoners, gave Dick a wink which ex-
pressed volumes, and made off in a bee line towards
the telegraph station. There he sent a most inno-
cent wire to a small retail tobacconist in Kimberley —
a wire that apparently conveyed nothing more
than a complaint as to the quality of certain cigars
that Solly had received. Strangely enough, how-
ever, within an hour or two of its receipt certain
gentlemen vitally connected with diamonds and all
concerned in them knew that they had no reason
to fear the great " North-Eastern " diamond fields,
as they had been salted.

Meanwhile the wachtmeister handed over Gilder-
man and Co. to the officer in charge at the police
station, where they were detained — in common with
the diamonds — Dick's diamonds !

To the Herr Professor the officials were politeness
itself, and thanks to his good offices even Dick
was treated with civility — Englishman though he
was.

As they left the station they met the company's
Luderitzbucht agent, a most important gentleman,
who was looking both flushed and perturbed. It
was evident that news travelled quickly in Luderitz-
bucht, for he had already — as his first words clearly
proved — heard of the arrests.

220 THE SALTING OF THE

" Herr Professor," he blurted out, " what a
calamity! Most unfortunate. Gilderman and the
others all arrested. Surely most tactless ! Could it
not have been avoided ? It might have been
explained, but to arrest them aU ! The company
is as good as floated."

" Not all," said the professor grimly, looking the
excited agent up and down. " Not all, Herr
Hauptmann — two are dead. We caught them
salting — Herr Sydney here and myself — surely it
was ' tactless ' of them ? A calamity ! Truly yes,
for them ! And, Herr Hauptmann, if the new
' company ' has been floated without waiting for
my report, so much the worse for them."

The agent glared from the professor to Dick, as
though he would have liked to eat both of them,
but he saw he had made a mistake, also saw that
the thousand shares Gilderman had promised
him would never materialise, and changed his
tactics.

"My dear Herr Professor," he said, "of course
you were right. I was so upset for a moment that
I did not quite know how to look at it, but of course
you are right. And the ground then is worthless,
is it not so ? "

" I would not go so far as to say that," said the
professor, cautiously ; " there has been no real test —

GREAT NORTH-EASTERN FIELDS 221

these rascals started their salting at once. I leave
immediately for Johannesburg to-night. I hear
there is a steamer leaving then — and there I shall
report thoroughly on what has happened. Possibly
the company will send up a more carefully chosen
expedition again — they have the option for another
three months. In that case, and if they wish me
to return, the Herr Sydney here will take charge of
the prospecting."

The agent looked sourly at Dick. " You know,
professor, the company like to engage their own
prospectors," he demurred.

" Yes, and I believe last time you recommended
one of them," replied the professor blandly. " Last
time the company made a colossal mistake —
prospectors, experts, representatives, all were rogues !
Two lie dead back there in the dunes and four lie
in gaol ! I want no more of that kind. And, Herr
Hauptmann, if I go, this man goes — if there is a
man in the country who can find diamonds there,
it is he."

" That's a fact," said Dick to himself, as he
realised all the professor was doing for him.

" And now, Herr Hauptmann," continued the
old man, as they reached the agent's office, " pay
Sydney his cheque — and double it — I will answer
to the company."

222 THE SALTING OF THE

So Dick got his cheque, and his discharge, and
making a straight line for the bank he changed
the former, without loss of time. He had seen
cheques stopped before, and trusted Hauptmann
just about as much as he had trusted the Gilderman
outfit.

Then he went to the hotel, where the professor's
belongings had been dumped in the biggest room
the building boasted.

Here the scientist called him in, and locking
the door, sat down on the bed and looked at
him.

" Young and strong, and honest, you should
become rich in this country, where honest men are
so scarce," he said kindly. " Herr Sydney, or rather
do I call you Dick, for you are young enough to be
my son — you heard what I told the agent ? Well,
I go to Johannesburg in a few hours, but I shall
come back, I am sure — though whether the company
sends me straight back, or whether they await
the expiration of the syndicate's lease, I cannot
say — financiers do strange things, and who knows
what they will do ?

" But when I come, you go too — and there will
be an opportunity for you such as few men have.
You will know for certain beforehand where the
stones lie rich, you can purchase shares as soon as

GREAT NORTH-EASTERN FIELDS 223
flotation is effected, knowing well they will become
valuable — you can make your fortune."

" But I have no money," said Dick, " my cheque
won't last long."

" You see that box," asked the professor, pointing
to a certain black, padlocked trunk amongst his
baggage.

" I haven't forgotten it/' said Dick feelingly.

" Well, the wherewithal to pave your way to
fortune lies in that."

" Snakes ! " exclaimed Dick, with a lively
recollection of the last time that box had been
opened.

The professor moved towards it. Dick moved
towards the door.

"Wait, man, wait!" said the professor. "But
they are harmless."

" Oh, yes ! I know," said Dick, edging still nearer
the door. " Pretty little things, some people call
them — like that scorpion you raved about, before !
Here, I say, professor, play the game ; I don't want
fortunes of that kind — here, I'm off !"

" The door is locked," said the old man calmly ;
" Wunderbahr! here is a man I thought feared
nothing — a fighter of the best — afraid of a few harm-
less snakes ! "

" Professor," pleaded Dick, as the old man bent

224 THE SALTING OF THE

over the padlock, " don't do it ; I don't want any
fortune. Oh, Lord ! I shall have two fits ! Yow !
Help ! there he goes ! " and as the box opened
Dick sprang on to the bed.

" Quite harmless," said the professor, as he flung
back the lid ; " and but how splendid, wunderschon,
hein ? Three new specimens among them of
varieties quite unknown — and the fame will be
mine. And the scorpion you discovered, and so
generously gave me ! Ach, meine jreund, now I can
indeed repay you for your so great generosity.
See, then ! " And with a dramatic gesture he
plunged his hand down among the wriggling snakes,
and groping among them in a manner that made
every hair on Dick's head stand up till he felt like
a porcupine, he drew forth a small bundle, and
tossed it on the bed.

"Open it," he ordered. "No! dummkopf I
there are no snakes in it — open ! "

Dick's fingers trembled as he undid the knots, he
knew by the feel what to expect.

Yes, there they were, the thousand carats of
diamonds that had caused two violent deaths and
a heap of trouble already, a double handful of
beautiful little sparkling gems ; the very facsimile
of those others that Dick had found and that now
lay locked up and confiscated at the police-station.

GREAT NORTH-EASTERN FIELDS 225

" They are yours," said the professor. " Whose,
if not ? Gilderman's or those other scoundrels in
gaol ? The company's ? It has no rights on the
fields yet ! The Government's ? It has those others
you found in place of these, and to attempt to
explain now would bring complications, and maybe —
who knows — place us both in gaol ! "

Dick was tempted, but demurred.

" You see, professor," he said reluctantly, " these
are not my stones. It isn't as if they were the
stones I really found ! "

" The police will scarcely give you those, I repeat,"
answered the other. " Lieber Gott, man, say what
you mean ! I stole them, is that it ? Of course
I did, as I had a perfect right to, to bring about
what I did, the confession of these knaves ; and
but that Brandt annoyed me with his insistence
to search my tent I should have told him then.
As it was I let that fool Brietmann search,
knowing that he would be frightened when he
opened the box — Ach, you brave men ! And
then, Dick — Herr Sydney, if you wish? Well,
Dick then — what would have happened to you if
they had found the diamonds you had ? Just was
I in time to make up the tale I did when I saw you
righting on the ground with the wachtmeister' s pistol
at your head ! Soh— if you will, I stole them—

P

226 THE SALTING OF THE

will you not take them from me ? They had yours
in place of them ; take them, they are yours. And
the one big director of the company in Johannes-
burg, to whom I shall the truth tell, he will applaud
what I have done."

The professor's arguments were far from flawless,
but Dick yielded ; for it had seemed more than
hard to see the diamonds he had himself found
handed over to the police — and after all, it did not
seem right to let a thousand carats of diamonds go
begging for an owner !

And whatever qualms he had vanished at the
delight of the old professor, as he made up the
parcel :again and stowed it carefully away in his
pocket.

An hour later the professor went on board, and
Dick beat up a few friends, most of whom were
dead broke, and proceeded to the Europatia Hof —
the leading hotel — where he ordered such a feast
as made the manager promptly ask for payment
in advance.

Satisfied on that point, he proceeded to surpass
himself, in so far as the limited capabilities of
Luderitzbucht were concerned, and that night Dick
and four other hungry men made up for lost time.
The food was good, and the champagne that washed
it down excellent, and Dick, as he bade the other

GREAT NORTH-EASTERN FIELDS 227

men " Good-night," and turned away from the
hotel towards his old diggings, felt at peace with all
mankind. He had still twenty pounds in his pocket,
he had the professor's promise of leading another
trip to the north-east ; and above all, he had a
thousand carats of diamonds tied tightly in a
bundle made fast inside his shirt.

Fortune was smiling again, and full of happy
dreams for the future he sauntered down the pitch
dark street towards his room, whistling, and without
a care. And as he reached the door something
struck him with a dull, heavy thud at the back
of the head, and he fell like a log on his own door-
step.

When he came to himself it was still dark, and
for a moment he could scarce remember what had
happened. Then it all came back to him in a
flash; he had been sandbagged. His money was
gone to the last penny, and so were the diamonds.

Faint and sick, he dragged himself into his room
and bathed his aching head ; and now he saw, too,
that all his belongings had been ransacked. " They
waited for me, here," he thought, and he groaned
in bitterness of spirit as he realised that as far as
the diamonds were concerned it was useless to try
and obtain redress — legally he had had no right to
their possession !

228 THE SALTING OF THE FIELDS

The professor had gone, there was no one he could
turn to — yes, there was Solly.

And as soon as it was light he went and found
him — of course still in bed !

" Ah," he said, " I heard you was having a thick
night, and you look like it. Blued your cheque, I
suppose ? "

" Not all," said Dick, " but it's gone ! " And he
told him everything.

" Blazes ! " exclaimed the little man, leaping
from his bed and beginning to dress in mad haste.
" You fathead, you've done a fine thing. Why,
you let me believe the fields were salted ! "

" They were," said Dick, " but the real stones
were there all the same ! "

" But, you loony, I should have known this at
once ! Why, I went straight and wired to the
people who must know these things ; the people
who make or break all diamond ventures ! My
people ! "

" The Johannesburg Company that sent the
professor ? " asked Dick, in his innocence.

" Johannesburg, the professor ! I don't think ! "
said Solly with the greatest scorn. " No, the
people that control diamonds are ... a little
firm of tobacconists in Kimberley ! "

THE FOLLOWER

THE FOLLOWER

In a desolate and lonely spot near the wide expanse
of mud-flats which form the mouth of the Orange
River there stands the roofless ruin of an old farm-
house. Its stone walls, of huge thickness, and the
high stone kraal with huge iron hinges only re-
maining where once swung a formidable door, speak
eloquently of the time when this remote part of
Klein Namaqualand, in common with the islands
and lower reaches of the Orange River, was infested
with bands of Hottentot outlaws and robbers, and
when the daring white man who had ventured
among them kept his scant flocks and herds under
lock and key, and guarded them with a strong
hand.

To the south, towards Port Nolloth, stretches
seventy-odd miles of desolate, waterless sand-scrub ;
eastward lie vast expanses of similarly dreary,
featureless, undulating scrub, beyond which rise
the unknown and mysterious mountains of the

231

232 THE FOLLOWER

Richtersfeld and hundreds of miles of uninhabited
country ; westward is the wide lonely ocean ; and
to the north/across the Orange River, lie the dreaded
sand-dunes of German South- West Africa.

It was in the direction of the dunes, gleaming
vague and silver- white in the clear moonlight, that
the eyes of the three white men — prospectors — who
had forgathered in this lonely spot were turned as
they sat, finishing their evening meal, beside a
bright fire that lit up the broken and roofless walls.
They had met after months of lonely wanderings :
Sidney and Ransford amongst the mountains of
the Richtersfeld, Jason from long and arduous
expeditions along the Great Fish River and amongst
the trackless sands across the river. The talk had
been of the dunes ; of men lost and dying of thirst
a few miles from camp ; of terrific storms that
lifted the sand in huge masses, and whirled it
across the land, overwhelming all it encountered ;
of whole dunes that were shifted by the wind,
leaving gruesome things disclosed in the hollows
where once they had stood ; of diamonds, danger
and death.

" Yes ! " said Jason, " there's many a man been
lost since the diamond rush first started : gone
away from camp and never turned up again — died
of thirst most of them, of course, though I daresay

THE FOLLOWER 233

the Bushmen accounted for some. Sometimes the
sand has overwhelmed them and buried their bodies
for ever. Sometimes after a big storm it gives up
its dead as the sea does. I've seen some queer
things there myself. Once near Easter Cliffs, after
a terrific storm had shifted all the dunes, I came
across the bodies of a dozen white men, all to-
gether and mummified and wonderfully preserved.
God knows how they died and how long they'd
been there !

" But the weirdest thing that ever happened to
me up there was when Carfax disappeared. You
remember Carfax ? A tall, bony, powerful chap he
was, quiet and dour, and with a strong vein of
superstition in him. Anyhow, he was a good
prospector and a reliable man, and when the rush
for the northern fields took place about two years
ago. he was one of a party of four of us who had
been landed with a few kegs of water and bare
necessities on the waterless coast opposite Hollams
Bird Island. Here we searched in vain for diamonds,
the dunes being exceptionally difficult and the wind
that came up every afternoon converting the whole
country into a whirling chaos that it was impossible
to see in, or work in — next to impossible to exist
in.

" On the third evening, after an exceptionally

234 THE FOLLOWER

strong gale had nearly choked, blinded, and over-
whelmed us, Carfax did not turn up in camp, and
though we searched all the following day we found
no trace of him — not a vestige ; for one of the
worst things about the dunes is that when the
wind is blowing the spoor is filled up almost imme-
diately with drifting sand ; though peculiarly
enough a day or two later the spoor will show again,
when the light sand has again been blown out.
He had only a small water-bottle with him, the
heat was like Hades itself, and we all thought he was
dead.

" But on the second night of his absence — I shall
never forget it — the wind had gone down com-
pletely, and the long stretches of white dunes lay
clear and bright in the white moonlight. The other
fellows lay asleep on the sand, exhausted, for we
had had a terrible day, but I couldn't sleep — I never
can in bright moonlight.' And after tossing around
for some time I got up, lit a pipe, and walked over
to the water-barrel to get a drink. Poor Carfax
was still in my mind, and I stood thinking of him
and gazing out in the direction in which he had
gone, straining my eyes in the forlorn hope of
seeing something moving ; but the dead silver-white
of the sand dunes was unbroken by a single speck.

" I stood thus for some time, and was turning

THE FOLLOWER 235

once more towards the others when a faint move-
ment in the vague distance caught my eye. Yes !
something or some one was crossing the ridge of a
big dune in my direction ! A jackal maybe ! No,
it was too big for that ; the faint form was certainly
that of a man — or were there two ? I didn't wait
longer, but, running back and grabbing a water-
bottle, I started off at a run towards whoever it
was.

" Moonlight is puzzling sometimes, and I could
scarcely make out if there was one figure or two :
one seemed to follow the other at a little distance.
But as I got nearer I could see it was Carfax —
alone. ' Carfax ! Carfax ! ' I called out, ' thank
God you're alive — we'd given you up ! ' He made no
answer, but came on slowly and falteringly, turning
repeatedly as though to gaze behind. Now I saw
that he was in the last stage of exhaustion : his
face was drawn and ghastly, and his cracked and
swollen lips were moving rapidly in broken, in-
coherent words ; his sufferings had plainly driven
him out of his mind. He snatched at the water-
bottle and drained it at a draught ; then, clutching
me by the arm, he pointed back across the dunes.

" ' There ! there ! see ! he follows me always,
since I found the diamonds ! Look ! look ! '

" As he pointed his face was ghastly with fear,

236 THE FOLLOWER

and I too looked back, expecting to see I knew not
what. Was he followed, and by whom ? I had
thought at first there had been one following; but
no, there was nothing to be seen. Who could be
following him in this desolate place ? But still he
clutched my arm, and gibbered, and pointed back,
and now my eyes were playing tricks again : surely
there was a shadow ! No, there was nothing there
— no human being at any rate. Possibly it had
been a jackal. So, soothing him as best I could,
I helped the poor demented fellow back to camp,
he with many a backward look of fear, and I myself
with an uncanny feeling that we were being followed.
" Well, he was delirious for days ; and when the
cutter came back to pick us up and take us to
another spot farther up the coast he was too ill
to be moved, so we rigged up a bit of a tent and
I was left to nurse him till the boat returned again.
It was a weird experience, alone in that desolate
spot with a madman for company ; for though he
quietened down after the others had gone he still
had the hallucination of being followed and watched ;
and especially in the night, when I wanted to sleep,
he would seize me by the arm and point through
the tent door to the bright moonlight outside.
' There ! there ! ' he would mutter, ' don't you see
him ? book at his square-toed boots and brass

THE FOLLOWER 237

buckles. See how his ghastly dead eyes glare !
Keep him from me, Jason ; keep him from me ;
he shall not have them back ; he has been dead
hundreds of years ; keep him from me — they are
mine ! ' And in my overstrung, nervous state I
could have sworn on one or two occasions that
I too saw such a figure.

" He gradually got calmer and more himself, and
then he told me a strange tale of what had happened
to him in the dunes.

" He had been overtaken by a sandstorm many
miles from the camp, and had struggled on till
absolutely exhausted, not daring to lie down to rest
lest the fast whirling sand should overwhelm him ;
and when late at night the wind had fallen he was
hopelessly and utterly lost, and had thrown himself
down in a sheltered spot deep hollowed out by
the wind between two gigantic dunes, and had at
once fallen into the deep sleep of exhaustion.

" Then he had dreamed — a startling and vivid
dream that had seemed half reality. He saw three
men come down over the big dune to close beside
where he lay — rough-looking men in a costume of
long ago, with cocked hats, broad breeches, and
buckled shoes ; and the moonlight shone on the
brass hilts of their cutlasses and pistols. They
took no notice of him, but, stooping^ began to pick

238 THE FOLLOWER

up the bright diamonds that Carfax now saw covered
the sand before them. Soon the bag they held
was full and a quarrel arose ; for he saw two of
the men draw their swords and fight fiercely, whilst
the other, a tall hawk-faced man, stood by and
watched, holding the bag. At length one fell,
pierced through by the other's broad blade ; and
as the victor stood over him the hawk-faced man
cut him down from behind, and stood, laughing
horribly and holding the bag of diamonds before
their dying eyes. And as he laughed one of them,
with a last effort, drew a pistol from his belt and
shot him dead.

" At the report the scene vanished, and Carfax
awoke with a start. The dream had been so vivid
that the pistol-shot seemed still to be ringing in
his ears, and he sprang to his feet, scarcely knowing
what he should see. The air was clear of dust now,
and the moon shone brightly ; and by its light he
saw a few paces from him a prostrate form partly
covered in sand. He bent over it : it was the body
of a man, a man dressed in a strange old-world
costume — a dead man, dead hundreds of years,
and mummified and wonderfully preserved by the
sands that had covered him deep through the
centuries, until the big gale of yesterday had lifted
the heavy pall. Huddled near by lay two other

THE FOLLOWER 239

indistinct forms ; and Carfax, his dream still vividly
before him, knew well what they were.

" Yes ! there too lay the leather bag at his feet !
And trembling with excitement he knelt and plunged
his hand into it, and drew out a handful of big,
dully gleaming diamonds. And as he gazed at the
treasure his wrist was clutched in an icy grasp,
and turning in terror he found the horrible eyes of
the dead man glaring close into his own.

" With a scream of horror he wrenched away his
wrist, and, still clutching the stones, fled madly
across the dunes, pursued by the fearful figure of
the long-dead man. Stumbling, falling, on and on
he fled, till the moon paled and the stars faded
and the bright sun rose and gave the hunted man
a gleam of courage ; but his fearful glance behind him
still showed the grim figure of he who followed.

" He could not tell what instinct had guided him
back to camp ; but all through that awful day he
had stumbled on through the roasting heat of the
dunes, till late at night when I had seen him and
gone to meet him as I described.

" All this he told me that night in the tent, now
and again starting and glancing fearfully out and
across the sands to point out the dread watcher he
believed hovered near him. I tried to soothe him,
to laugh away his fears, to tell him it was all a

240 THE FOLLOWER

dream. And then ? Well, he fumbled in his shirt
and drew forth a little package tied up in a rag,
and with many a fearful glance his trembling fingers
undid it, and there poured forth a little cascade
of magnificent diamonds — far finer than anything
I had ever seen before or since in German West : a
fortune in fact ! I sat astounded, for I had not
dreamed of this. Where they came from there must
be more — a fortune for us all ! Then I found my
tongue. ' Carfax, man,' I said, ' this is wonderful !
Can you find your way back ? It will make us
all rich.' He shuddered. ' No ! no ! ' he said, his
hand pressed to his eyes as though to shut out a
scene of horror ; ' he is there ! No, he cannot be ;
he is watching here for me — he will follow me
always ! Oh ! Jason, don't leave me alone, old
man ; don't leave me ; we'll get away together
when the boat comes ! there's enough for us both !
don't leave me ! '

" After a time he sank into a troubled sleep ;
but to me sleep was now out of the question. Where
on earth had he found the diamonds ? They, at
least, were real. Had he really found a spot where
the terrific gale had shifted the sand and laid bare
a treasure and tragedy of long ago ? Such things
might be. I had seen dead men in the dunes
myself, and the overwrought state of Carfax, due

THE FOLLOWER 241

to his sufferings, would account for the rest. If
only he could find his way back when he came to
his proper senses againj

" Thus musing I paced up and down outside the
tent in the bright moonlight. Carfax was still
sleeping, but uneasily, and muttering a lot in his
sleep. There across the dunes the diamonds must
be — there somewhere. He had come from yonder
towards the big dune. And almost mechanically
my footsteps wandered away from the tent towards
where I had met Carfax. Here was the spot, here
was the place where he had half scared me with his
weird story of being followed, and where I had half
believed myself that I had seen the follower. Here,
for the wind had once more blown the sand from
out the filled-in footprints, were our spoors — mine
meeting his ; here we turned back ; but what was
this ? Whose spoor was this, that followed upon
our own, back towards where the tent stood !

" My hair rose on my head as I looked. The
ghastly white moonlight showed the other spoor quite
plainly — the print of a broad, square-toed, low-heeled
shoe.

" Every man of us wore veldtschoens : there was
not a heel among the four of us, and as I marvelled
and superstitious fear crept upon me there came
scream after scream of terror from the direction of

Q

242 THE FOLLOWER

the tent ; and as I looked, Carfax, barefoot as he
had slept, came flying from the tent, his ghastly
face contorted with horror, glancing behind him as
he ran, and holding out his arms as though to
ward off a pursuer.

" Past me he flew, straight across the sand towards
the dunes from which he had lately come, his shrieks
getting fainter and fainter as he sped until they
ceased, and the faint breeze that heralded the dawn
brought back the sound of mocking laughter.

" Fear held possession of me, for something had
passed me in pursuit of the haunted man, and with
terror gripping my faculties, I scarce dared turn my
eyes to where the fresh spoor of Carfax's naked
feet showed in the sand. Yes ! It was there : a
heavy, broad, square-toed print following and tread-
ing over Carfax's own and showing the signs of a
mad pursuit.

" Did I follow them ? No ! I'm not ashamed to
say I did not — at any rate not then. Instead, I
walked down to the shore, where the solemn breakers
offered some sort of companionship, and prayed for
morning to come and blot out the ghastly moon
and all it had shown me, and save my reason.

" The sun came at last, and with it an awful
hurricane that equalled that of the previous week,
and I was hard put to it to save our few belongings

THE FOLLOWER 243

from being swept away and from being myself
overwhelmed. In the evening came the calm, and
with it the boat ; and, thank God ! I had not to
face the moonlight again alone.

" Yes, we searched ; but the storm had changed
the whole aspect of the dunes, and the spoors lay
buried under many feet of sand, and — well, Carfax
was never seen again ! "

Jason ended his narrative abruptly, and, rising,
lit his pipe with an ember from the dying fire and
stood gazing across the river to where the vague
mysterious dunes of German West showed silver-
white beyond the farther bank. " Good country to
be out of ! " he said with a shiver. " Come, boys,
you'd better turn in. I can't sleep when there's a
moon."

THE PROOF

THE PROOF

THE chance was too good to be missed. For days
past the baboons had been extremely troublesome
— killing and mutilating the pick of our milch goats,
which had strayed afield in search of food ; tearing
to pieces the poor mongrel puppy that had been
unwise enough to follow them ; and even ransacking
our tent during the few hours we had left it without
a guard. The troop was a large one, and included
some of the biggest baboons I had ever seen ; but
though daring at times, they were exceedingly
wary, and amidst the labyrinth of broken country
which at the spot hemmed in the Orange River they
had hitherto evaded our attempts at retaliation.
And now by sheer luck we had stumbled upon them.
Jason and I, following up some copper indications
amongst the mountain peaks, had turned an abrupt
corner and found ourselves within a hundred yards
of their big leader — a huge grey monster that stood
sentinel- wise upon a high rock watching us. The

247

248 THE PROOF

tiny black head of my foresight showed plainly
against the wide grey chest of the big brute ; I
pressed the trigger ; and the soft-nosed "303 sped
true to the mark. The long hairy arms were flung
aloft in a gesture too human to be pleasant, and with
a spasmodic spring in the air the baboon fell head-
long from the rock, whilst at the report the whole
troop, with a chorus of angry, sharp, staccato barks,
fled round the shoulder of the mountain and dis-
appeared.

" I hate shooting them," I said, turning to Jason
for the first time since we had sighted them ; " they're

too human altogether, still Hullo, Jason,

what's the matter ? "

Jason's usually calm, inscrutable face was
absolutely convulsed with strong feeling : fear,
hatred, loathing — what was it ? He started as
though from a dream.

" God ! How I hate them ! " he muttered
hoarsely. " It was not far from here "

He shouldered his rifle and turned back abruptly
towards the camp. I did not attempt to stop him ;
for though the staunchest friend and comrade, he
was of a peculiar disposition ; and I knew that he
would, if he wanted to do so, tell me his story when
the mood suited him. I walked over to the fallen
baboon, which lay dead, grim, and hideous, with its

THE PROOF 249

chest shattered by my bullet and its formidable fangs
bared in a ghastly grin.

That night by the camp-fire, Jason, who had
scarcely uttered a syllable in the meanwhile, told
me his weird story ; but let him tell it in his own

words.

*****

" The first chapter of my story began twenty years
ago. I had just returned from a shooting and
trading trip in Damaraland which had ended in a
stiff bout of fever, and was kicking my heels in Cape
Town, when one day I received a note from the
Curator of the Museum asking me if I would care to
act as guide to two gentlemen who wished to follow
up the Orange River from its mouth and possibly
proceed up the then almost unknown Fish River
into Damaraland. I did not care about going back,
for my recent trip had been a very rough one ; but I
was heartily sick of Cape Town, and so I went round
to the hotel where the two men were staying, taking
the note which the Curator had sent me. ' They
don't want to trade or prospect,' he had written me,
' the trip is simply for scientific purposes. Hector
Montrose is an ethnologist of wide repute, and he
wishes to study the race characteristics of the
Hottentots and Bushmen. He is a brilliant disciple
of Darwin, too, and has spent a lot of time and

250 THE PROOF

money on several trips to the interior of Borneo and
other remote spots in search of the so-called " miss-
ing link " ; and he is, I know, extremely anxious to
get near some of those huge baboons that are said
to exist along the Orange River. His brother John
is quite different, and as long as he is with his
brother and there's plenty to shoot he's happy any-
where.'

" I rather expected to meet a couple of old fossils,
but to my agreeable surprise I found John and
Hector Montrose both younger men than myself —
and I was under thirty then. Fine young fellows
they were too, nearly of an age, and as much alike
as two peas. Of medium size, well-knit, and mus-
cular, they were exactly the type of man for a rough
trip such as that which we were soon planning. For
all my scruples went by the board within ten minutes
of our first meeting, and I fell absolutely under the
spell and charm of their virile personalities. Splendid
chaps, both of them : I never met their like. I can
see them now as they sat listening to me. I dis-
cussed the trip, and described the kind of country
we should have to cover. Their dark, keen, eager
faces were so absolutely alike that, except when
they laughed, I could scarce tell which was which.
Hector, the elder, had had the whole of his front
teeth so stopped and plated with gold dentistry that

THE PROOF 251

there was but little ivory to be seen, and when he
laughed this gave him a strange and rather unpleas-
ing appearance.

" Within a week we were on the veld, and two
months later were within fifty miles of where we are
sitting now — farther up the Orange, where the Great
Fish River runs into the larger stream. It is a wild
and desolate spot to-day, and there are hippo still
on the islands, but twenty years back scarce a white
man had ever seen it ! We had followed the Orange
from its mouth in a leisurely, dawdling manner,
spending a few days, or perhaps a week, at those few
spots where we found Hottentots or Bushmen. The
elder brother seemed to comprehend these wild men
by intuition, and the extraordinary ' click ' lan-
guage which I had long since despaired of ever learn-
ing seemed to him the simplest thing on earth. Day
after day he conversed with them more and more,
until his mastery of both tongues was complete. The
natives looked up to him as a sort of god, and if he
had allowed it would have worshipped him. Hour
after hour he would sit conversing with them and
questioning them, taking copious notes all the time
and gathering from their folklore, legends, traditions,
and beliefs ; and every day, as he became more
engrossed, his brother and I saw less of him. John
and I had plenty of sport, for the country teemed

252 THE PROOF

with game in those days ; but after a time, as
Hector grew more and more engrossed in the natives,
until he rarely spoke to us, John became anxious,
and at last spoke to me. ' Look here, Jason,' he
said one day when we were miles from camp after
klipbok for the pot, ' I don't like the way Hector's
going at all ! He scarcely ever speaks now, and he's
so queer when he does talk. He wanders in his
sleep a lot, and last night he kept on all night — talk-
ing the most abject nonsense about proving to the
world that Darwin was right in his theory of evolu-
tion. It's some yarn these infernal Bushmen have
told him, I suppose. I wish something would crop
up to divert his thoughts in another direction.'

" Well, something happened only too soon. One
day, in passing through a narrow ravine, we came
suddenly at close quarters with a troop of the
biggest baboons I have ever seen. They looked and
grunted a few times to each other, and made off in a
leisurely manner, evidently in no fear. They were
the first we had seen, and Hector was all excite-
ment. He spoke rapidly to the two Bushmen who
were with us, and then shouted some clicking, un-
intelligible gibberish after the retreating animals.
At the call the whole troop halted, and their hoarse
barks came back in reply. Again Hector shouted,
and once again the baboons voiced a grunting mock-

THE PROOF 253

ing answer that John and I looked at each other in
amazement ! ' Look at Klaas ! ' he whispered.

" Klaas was a Hottentot who had been with the
missionaries at Bethany, and spoke English. He
spoke the Bushman ' click ' too, but seldom had
anything to do with the ' wild men,' as he called
them. Now he stood listening to Hector's shouts
to the baboons, and as he listened a look of the most
abject terror came into his face, and he stood livid
and trembling, staring in the direction of the beasts.
Again Hector called ; and then a shrill scream
burst from the Hottentot's lips : ' No ! no ! ' he
shrieked. ' He is calling them back ! ' he gibbered,
turning to us ; ' they will tear us to pieces ! ! '

" The Bushmen were cowering in fear too ; and
still Hector, heedless of us all, called to the baboons ;
and their grunts came back in reply. And now the
brutes were turning back towards us, and a thrill of
fear came to me too, for there were at least a hundred
of them, and a combined attack would have made
short work of us, notwithstanding our Winchesters.
I unslung mine ; but John was before me — a shot
rang out, and the big leader flung up its long arms
and fell dead. The troop halted, and then, before
I could shoot, Hector sprang to where we knelt
aiming and ordered us imperiously and passionately
to stop. ' You fools ! ' he shrieked, ' you have

254 THE PROOF

spoiled all ! How can I ever gain their confidence,
how can I ever learn their speech and gain the proof
of all that Darwin taught, if you murder them ?
Already from these Bushmen I have learnt much,
and can make these wild men [he used the native
expression quite naturally] understand, but much
more is needed. Put up your guns : they shall
come back ! ' Whilst we paused irresolute the
baboons, picking up their fallen leader, made off
across the mountain, in silence and with never a
response to Hector's calls.

" From that time our leader's conduct became
even stranger — in fact he was as a man obsessed. He
rarely spoke to us, but spent his whole time with the
Bushmen, wandering away into the mountains and
the thick jungle bordering the river, refusing our
company, and no longer even carrying a rifle in a
country at that time teeming with wild animals. His
sole desire was to come into contact with the baboons,
but for some days we saw nothing of them. He
offered the Bushmen all sorts of rewards if they could
capture and bring in a young one, but they had wild
tales of raids by these strange beasts ; of native
women and children carried off by them, and be-
coming wild like their captors. At length, how-
ever, Hector's promises had effect : one evening the
two Bushmen returned to camp dragging between

THE PROOF 255

them a half-grown baboon. It was surly, vicious,
and so strong that they could scarce master it, but
within twenty-four hours Hector had the animal
subject to his will, and now the Bushmen were
neglected for this strange new companion. That
he could make himself understood to it was per-
fectly obvious ; and they would wander away to-
gether, grunting and clicking all the time.

" The heat all this time was terrific, and the
thought often came to me that possibly Hector had
had a touch of sunstroke. Even his craze for find-
ing a proof of Darwin's theory could, I thought,
scarcely explain his half-mad conduct ! He ate
but little ; his habits, once so precise, became care-
less and in fact almost brutal ; and his brother's
pained remonstrance with him only made matters
worse. ' The Proof ! the Proof ! ' he would answer
us, fiercely and angrily ; ' I am getting nearer to it
every day. What matters what you think or care !
But this one is too young. I must have an old one.
He will tell me ! ' John and I had serious thoughts
of taking him out of the wilderness by force ; but
whilst we hesitated the end came.

" One night, after a day of terrific heat, we were
lying under a thorn tree on the hot sand, and hoping
for the rain that had been threatening but would not
fall. There was a moon ; but its light was fitful, and

256 THE PROOF

the dark thunder-clouds occasionally obscured it.
Away over the Tatas Berg Mountains the lightning
was flickering, and John and I lay watching it,
and wishing the storm would break for us too. Sud-
denly we heard the bark of a baboon from a peak
near us. It was answered from the other side, and
soon a harsh chorus resounded on either hand. We
listened. They seemed to be narrowing in upon us.
Klaas crept near us. ' Master,' he whispered in a
frightened voice, ' they will kill us all — or worse ! '
We looked at each other in the gloom. It might
well be, and we had better be prepared. Without a
word we rose and hurried to the tent, and there
made ready our rifles. Then the same thought came
simultaneously to us. Should we speak to Hector ?
He had of late used the smaller tent, a short dis-
tance away from our own — his companion, the
cursed baboon ! We hurried towards it. It was
empty. ' Hector ! Hector ! ' John called out, softly
at first, then loudly, frantically. But no answer came,
except that now the mocking din of the baboons
seemed to jeer at us. They appeared to be gathered
near us, all together. As we ran towards the
sound the moon burst through a rift in the clouds.
There ahead of us, stark naked, and running
swiftly towards the baboons, we saw the figure of
Hector, his body gleaming white in the moon-

THE PROOF 257

beams, and by his side the grey figure of his baboon
companion.

" We shouted, as over rocks and through scrub
and thorns we ran and scrambled, gaining upon
the fugitive. When he was but fifty yards ahead,
he paused and turned, and the moonlight gleamed
upon his gilded teeth as he laughed at us in maniac
mockery. Then, even as we sprang towards him, a
grey circle surged round him, and together they
came towards us. For a time we were hard set to
beat them off. When our Winchesters were empty
a ring of dead lay around us, and then the moon was
blotted out and dense darkness fell as the thunder-
storm burst over us. Between the peals of thunder
we could hear the hoarse barks of the main troop
getting farther and farther away, but to follow was
impossible. We expected to find the mangled body
of Hector in the morning. Daylight showed no trace
of him, however, and though we spent months search-
ing the locality we never saw him again."

Jason stopped, and knocked his pipe out on his
boot. I thought his tale was finished. " Horrible !
horrible ! " I said. " Little wonder you hate
baboons ! What became of his brother ? "

" Wait ! " said Jason, " that is only the first
chapter of my story. John went back to England
— a morose, sad man. The incident had deeply

258 THE PROOF

affected me also, and we had become the closest of
friends. Old Klaas came to Cape Town with us,
and as we saw John waving to us from the fast
receding mailboat the Hottentot said something I
never forgot. ' Master,' he said, ' his brother — I
do not think he is dead ! Something worse has
happened to him : Klaas believes he is there in that
strange place the Hottentots have all heard of — there
in the Tatas Berg, in the baboons' secret place.'

" Well, ten — more, fifteen — years passed, and I
often heard from John. He had thrown up sport,
and strangely enough had devoted himself entirely
to the same scientific research that had been his
brother's bane. Then his letters became fewer and
fewer, and I heard nothing for many months when
one day he walked into my room in Cape Town. He
had just arrived from England, and after our first
warm greeting he asked me eagerly if I were free to
accompany him again to the scene of our awful
experience. I was free enough, but reluctant.
Why revive the horrors of that awful night ! But he
persuaded me, and a month later we were in the
same region, and moreover had found old Klaas
alive and hearty. John had become proficient in
the Bushman and Hottentot tongues, as his brother
had been ; though where and how he had studied
them I never knew. Would he, too, I wondered, try

THE PROOF 259

to obtain the Proof, as his poor mad brother had
done ? And when we first came in contact with the
baboons I watched him closely. But he betrayed
no madness — only an intense interest in and hatred
of them. Peculiarly enough, I thought at the time,
although he shot the smaller ones mercilessly I never
saw him shoot at the huge beasts we often saw
watching us from the peaks. He must have noticed
me watching him, for one day he turned and looked
me full in the face, sadly and wistfully, as though
reading my thoughts : ' No, no, Jason ; never fear,
old friend ; I shall never seek the proof as Hector
did. And yet, and yet, it is there ! ' I soon found
that all his inquiries among the natives tended in one
direction : he sought the whereabouts of the secret
place of the baboons in which they all believed. But
none could tell him, till one day in the wild and
remote region between the Great Fish River and the
Tatas Mountains we came upon Jantje, an old
Hottentot, who told us that he had seen the place.
He had been hunting for honey in the almost in-
accessible mountains of that wild spot, and had one
day found himself in a narrow gorge, looking down
into what appeared to be a large crater. The sides
were precipitous except at one spot where a narrow
and tortuous canon made it possible to enter. And
here, he assured us, was the stronghold of the

26o THE PROOF

baboons. Huge ones — bigger than men, he told
us — and hundreds of them. And for a new gun and
some powder and shot he would take us to the place.
But he would not enter !

" Jantje got his gun ; and three days later John,
myself, and Klaas stood upon a mountain-top and
looked into the spot he had described. It was at
least five hundred feet deep, and perhaps a hundred
yards across the bottom, which was flat and sandy.
Even as we first looked into the place the baboons,
several hundred strong, were surging through the
gorge of which Jantje had spoken, away towards
then- feeding-ground by the Groot River. We
watched them through our glasses. Many of them
were of a man's size, and they were not like the
ordinary baboon.

" John was all excitement. ' We will wait till
they are clear away, and then we'll go down,' he
said. I warned him that there were sure to be some
left behind. But he was insistent. We were well
armed, he urged, and he could see none. He badly
wanted to see the place, and at last I consented.
We each had a hundred rounds of ammunition,
and if it came to a fight the three of us — Klaas was
also well armed — could almost exterminate them.
So, leaving the old man behind, we ventured down
the narrow cleft — clinging, scrambling, and occasion-

THE PROOF 261

ally using the rope. At length we stood in the open
arena.

" At the bottom there was nothing living to be
seen. A trickling stream issued from the rock on
one side, and we drank before starting to explore
the place. We found a piece of tattered clothing,
and paused and looked at each other in dismay.
There had been men there ! But we discovered
nothing else of importance as we continued our
circuit of the crater. We had been engrossed in our
investigations, however, and when we had finished
it became clear that we had started our descent too
late. The rapidly failing light showed us that the
day was nearly at an end. The baboons might
return at any time, and to fight them in the narrow
ravine, without proper light, would be madness.
Then came a warning shot fired by Jantje on the
height above : the beasts were returning. To find
some kind of hiding-place and lie there until the
morrow was our only hope of safety. Luckily we
discovered a sort of shallow cave that hid us well,
with a huge boulder at the entrance that would if
need be form a barrier. The cave might be the
sleeping-place of one of the baboons ; but it was our
only chance, and we had barely taken possession
before the advance guard of the baboons came
hooting down the ravine and made for the drinking-

262 THE PROOF

place. Night was now falling fast, and it was dark
before the main troop entered the crater. We could
only dimly make out their forms, but their harsh
barks were continuous. They did not come near us,
and we sat and watched, and whispered to each
other, and waited for the moon, which seemed long
in coming. At last its bright light struck full into
the crater, and we could see the baboons sitting
together in a mass at the farther side. But not for
long ; for as we waited there was a movement
among the animals, and two long files of them left
the main body and came slowly towards the part in
which we lay hidden. Tense with apprehension
we sat and gazed, expecting that they would make
a dash for us. They kept steadily on, however :
two long lines of huge beasts a few yards apart, and
between them a bigger one that walked almost erect.
Within twenty yards of our cave they formed into a
circle, the big one in the centre. He was as big as a
man ! Was he a man ? But no, the clicking,
grunting sound that issued from his throat was that
of a baboon, though of a species different to the
others. When the moonlight struck more fully on
the shaggy head and face, they looked almost
human ! How the fangs glistened in the moon-
light !
" The gestures of this strange animal became more

THE PROOF 263

excited, and the guttural speech — if speech it was —
more passionate. I heard Klaas muttering — he was
praying. ' God have mercy ! ' I heard him say,

' they know we are here, they Oh ! master,

master, hold him, hold him ! ' But it was too late :
John, with a wild scream of ' Hector ! Hector ! '
sprang from the shelter of the cave, and, casting aside
his rifle, ran straight at the strange figure in the
middle of the circle. Had he gone mad ? Who
could save him now ? Fast and furious Klaas's
rifle and my own rang out, and in the dense group
of animals the execution was so terrible that in a few
minutes the bulk fled back to the farther end, and I
ran to where John lay crushed in the arms of the
baboon leader. The vile beast had its fangs fixed
in his throat when I reached them. I fired a bullet
through its head, and released my poor dead friend ;
and as the monster's shaggy head rolled back, and
the moon's bright rays struck upon its glistening
teeth, I saw with horror that they were of gold ! "

BUSHMAN'S PARADISE

" BUSHMAN'S PARADISE

JIM HALLORAN was bored to death. With a natural
curiosity he had drifted into Walfisch Bay — bitten
as it were out of the huge expanse of German South-
West Africa — vaguely expecting something out of
the ordinary from such a queer locality. But he
had found literally nothing to do. A few white
officials and storekeepers, too slack even to be sick
of their surroundings, and a few degraded families
of Bushmen of uninteresting habits and extremely
filthy, constituted the inhabitants. There was but
little game in the small strip of British territory,
and Halloran had made one or two abortive attempts

* The principal incident in the first part of this story —
the shooting of the German soldier who found diamonds
in German South- West Africa before they were heard of
in Luderitzbucht — actually occurred, and the pocket-book
containing the route to the oasis, now known as " Bush-
man's Paradise," is still in existence. Names and local-
ities have been altered, naturally, and the second part of
the story is pure fiction.

267

268 " BUSHMAN'S PARADISE "

to arrange a shooting and exploring trip into the
German hinterland. Every one had warned him of
the extreme peril from the shifting sand-dunes.
Moreover, the war between the Germans and the
Hereros was at its height, and the lieutenant in
charge of the small garrison at Swakopmund had
cautioned him not to venture beyond the limit of
their patrols. There was no steamer for ten days,
so that it was a veritable godsend to him when late
one evening he received a message from the same
friendly lieutenant to the effect that if he cared
he was welcome to accompany a patrol party which
was to leave early the following morning in the
direction of the little-known Geiesib Mountains.
He might bring his rifle, as there was a chance of
some buck.

Daylight found Halloran in the saddle on his
way to the German quarters. The patrol consisted
of ten troopers in addition to his friend the lieu-
tenant, who explained that two of his men who
had been sent on patrol in that direction a few
days previously had not returned, and that he
hoped to find traces of them. " What do you
think has happened to them ? " Halloran asked.
The German shrugged his shoulders. " A hundred
things may have happened," he said — " the Hereros
^— or the Bushmen — they may be under one of the

" BUSHMAN'S PARADISE '» 269

shifting dunes — or they are lost and may be dying
of thirst — who knows ? "

The heat was terrific : the vibrant atmosphere
over the red-hot sand looked as though it had
become molten, and the glare to the eye was almost
insufferable. There was not a breath of air stirring.
Indeed, it was due solely to this fact that the patrol
had ventured to cross the shifting dunes. Later,
when the wind blew, it would be courting death to
attempt it.

A few hours' sharp trot brought them to the
nearest spurs of the mountain, where water had
been found by digging in the sand — bitter brak,
but still drinkable — and here they had hoped to
have found the lost troopers. But no trace of the
missing men was to be -seen. And over a hasty
lunch Haussmann, the lieutenant, expressed his fear
that they might never be found, but would go to
swell the list of men who from time to time had
disappeared from their little garrison. " In two
years," he said, " I have lost nine men. First there
were Schmidt, Miiller, and Brandhof, who were lost
in the colossal and never-to-be-forgotten storm soon
after I arrived ; then my orderly Goe'rtz went,
and with him another. Then Kramer — yes — but
Kramer, that was different ! "

Halloran was curious. " What happened to

270 " BUSHMAN'S PARADISE "

Kramer ? " he asked. And the German told him
a strange story. Kramer was a queer mountebank
sort of a chap who before conscription claimed him
had been clown in a circus, and his antics and
gymnastic feats had made him very popular with
his fellow-troopers. He had been a good soldier
too ; and when he had become separated from his
fellow-trooper in a sandstorm a day or more south
of Swakopmund, and his companion had struggled
through without him, no effort had been spared
in searching for the missing man. But to no
purpose ; months passed and he had been almost
forgotten. And then, to every one's surprise, he
had one day turned up, safe and sound, at the
camp. He was nearly naked, and bore traces
of having lived like a savage, and the lieutenant
believed that he had become affected by his priva-
tions and was slightly mad. At any rate, he had
told a strange and improbable story. Lost in the
drifting sands, he had struggled on he knew not
whither until his horse dropped, then on foot, and,
with all sense of direction utterly lost, he had
staggered on till tired nature gave out and he sank
to the ground in a dead faint. The storm must
have abated shortly after, for he woke to find him-
self nearly buried but with the air clearer, and,
somewhat refreshed, he had again moved on, until,

"BUSHMAN'S PARADISE" 271

water gone and nearly dead, he had eventually
staggered clear of the sands and right into the arms
of a number of Bushmen. For some reason they
had spared his life. Later his acrobatic feats had
made him even popular with them. His story
went on to tell of a well- wooded oasis where the
Bushmen lived, with water and game in plenty.
" All this is probably true," said the lieutenant,
" but his brain must have been somewhat turned,
for he declared that in this oasis the Bushmen's
children made playthings of big rough diamonds
the size of walnuts!" Kramer had watched for
an opportunity to escape, but when it came he had
had no chance of bringing away any of the stones,
as the Bushmen had a vague idea that the white
men valued them highly and that if they knew of
their presence in the oasis their refuge would soon
be lost to them. " He stuck to his tale," said the
lieutenant, " and his great idea was that I should
help him to go back with a strong expedition as
soon as his time of service expired, and he would
make me a rich man. Of course," he continued
dogmatically, " there are no diamonds in this
country — worse luck ! — so Kramer was laughed at
by everybody." He became madder than ever,
sullen and morose. He thought of nothing but
his mad dream of diamonds. A few months

272 "BUSHMAN'S PARADISE"

previously his discharge had come, and within a
few days he had again disappeared into the un-
known. He had bought a mule, and had gone
away laden with water-bags, laughed and jeered
at by his late comrades. He had never been heard
of in the interval. " But," said the lieutenant
abruptly, " we must be off, as we must go on at
least two or three hours further east, and I should
suggest, Mr. Halloran, that if you care to do so you
could stay here till our return. You are likely
to get a shot here by the water."

Halloran agreed, and the patrol trotted away over
the thick sand that skirted the mountains eastward.
The tale told by Haussmann had a strange fascina-
tion for him. Himself something of a prospector, the
story of the diamonds did not appear so wild and
improbable to him as it did to the matter-of-fact
Teuton. He had often wished for a chance to
prospect the slopes of these very mountains, which
looked very promising for gold — but diamonds !
Was it possible ? Choosing a spot among the rocks
where he was somewhat sheltered from the sun
and could command a view of the little pool and
its approaches, he sat down to muse over the story
and to await the chance of a possible shot. A
couple of hours passed. The stillness and intense
heat combined to make him drowsy, and he woke

" BUSHMAN'S PARADISE " 273

with a start to find he had been dreaming of diamonds
as big as tennis balls. " Bad sportsman," he
yawned. " I shall never get a shot this way," and,
rubbing his eyes, he peered cautiously round in
search of game. Not a thing in sight in any direc-
tion. Stop ! — was that a speck moving on a distant
spur of the mountain ? The atmosphere was decep-
tive, but surely it was some animal approaching
in his direction. He had up till then forgotten his
binoculars, but he was now wide awake and, look-
ing first to his rifle, he got out his glasses and twisted
them into focus upon the moving object in the
distance. A startled exclamation rose to his lips
as the field-glasses covered the moving spot ; it
was a man. Yes — running, stumbling, crouching
and at times almost crawling — the object which he
saw was a white man, naked except for a few rags.
His desperate haste and the glances he threw back
continually showed that he was being pursued.
Even as Halloran gazed, figure after figure came
running into view over the slope behind the forlorn
and desperate-looking fugitive — blacks these, and
by their diminutive size he knew them for Bushmen.
There were seven or eight of them in sight. How
many more were behind he could not of course
guess, nor did he stop to look, for every manly
instinct in his body sent him flying out of his shelter

S

274 " BUSHMAN'S PARADISE "

towards the hunted man. He must shoot quick,
for it was plain the Bushmen were gaining on their
quarry. So, shouting with all his might, Halloran
ran forward. A couple of hundred yards' sprint
and they were within range. Down he went on
one knee, and crack, crack went the sporting Mauser.
The vibration of the hot air was sufficient excuse
for bad shooting, and it was not until he had emptied
his magazine that he had the satisfaction of sending
the leading Bushman sprawling. But the others
did not pause, and as Halloran thrust another clip
into the magazine and ran forward again, shouting
and using some very bad language in his excite-
ment, he saw the leading figure throw up his hands
and fall forward upon his face. He had the range
better now, and was getting near. A second and a
third Bushman fell dead, but the others made no
attempt to retreat, and appeared to be rifling the
body in frantic haste. Again Halloran paused,
and sent a bullet into the bunch. Now they were
flying away, leaving four of their number behind
them. Shot after shot was sent after them till they
were out of range, beyond the ridge, by which time
Halloran had reached the fallen white man. There
he lay, stone dead, with a Bushman's poisoned
arrow between his shoulders and his body already
swollen and horrible from the deadly poison. A

" BUSHMAN'S PARADISE " 275

white man without doubt, his feet bare and bleed-
ing from his awful flight, his few poor rags almost
torn from his body by the Bushmen. Though tanned
almost black he had been a fair man, and his blue
eyes stared horribly. He was beyond all succour,
whoever he was, and Halloran turned savagely to
the remnants of the murderous band. They had
paid dearly. Three were stone dead. A fourth
lay dying where Halloran had brought him down
in his flight, and near him lay a tattered pocket-
book. Halloran picked this up. He knew what
name he should find in it before he glanced at the
contents. Yes, there was the name : " Heinrich
Kramer." It was the man who had gone back
for the diamonds. This, then, was why the Bush-
men had followed and killed him and rifled the
body. Halloran searched also, but the natives had
done their work well. Nothing was to be found.
However, as he turned to look at the wounded
Bushman, who was in his death-agony, there fell
from the stunted black fingers a pure and flawless
diamond, lustrous and dazzling in the burning sun-
shine, and so perfect that it might just have left
the hands of the cutter. ... So it was true,
after all !

Half an hour later the patrol came back at a
gallop, having heard the continuous firing. A few

276 " BUSHMAN'S PARADISE "

words explained all. It was Kramer right enough.
As it was useless following the Bushmen, poor
Kramer was buried and the patrol returned to
Swakopmund, having found no trace of the men
for whom they had been searching. In the presence
of the men Halloran had not mentioned the pocket-
book or diamond, but that night he told Haussmann
all. The pocket-book contained many details, and
although much was in cypher, the route taken by
Kramer in reaching the oasis the second time was
clearly noted. And between them a plan was
formed.

Six months later Halloran arrived in Cape Town,
having spent the interim in Europe, where he had
made certain arrangements. He was met by his
friend (and partner in the venture) the lieutenant
— on three months' sick leave — and between them
the expedition was organised which was to make
both their fortunes. From Europe, Halloran had
shipped half a dozen camels, and these ungainly
beasts, in charge of two Arab drivers, formed an
important item in his scheme. A small tug was
chartered for three months, and a week after sailing
from Cape Town the party landed on a wild and
desolate part of the coast a hundred and fifty miles

" BUSHMAN'S PARADISE " 277

south of Walfisch Bay. The reason for choosing
this spot was that, according to the directions in
the pocket-book, it appeared clear that by striking
inland due east from thereabouts they would reach
the oasis much quicker than by the actual route
followed by Kramer. But they knew it to be a
waterless waste for at least four days' journey —
how much more it was impossible to say — hence
the camels, and hence also the numerous small
barrels of water which formed an equally important
part of the tug's cargo. There were four white men
in the party — Halloran, his younger brother Frank,
Haussmann the German lieutenant, and a friend of
the latter named Haupt. From Swakopmund,
Haussmann had brought two Hottentots who could
speak the extraordinary Bushman " click " lan-
guage. These, with the Arab camel-men, made
the actual number up to eight. Each was well
armed, for Halloran, though he hoped to get the
diamonds without violence, had a notion that in an
extreme case a good deal could be done by eight
determined men armed with Mausers and with
plenty of ammunition. The tug with its crew of
six men was to remain anchored in the little cove,
keeping a sharp look-out shorewards. Halloran
had chosen his time well. The windy season was
at an end and there was no great probability of the

278 " BUSHMAN'S PARADISE "

much-dreaded sandstorms arising. The moon was
nearly at its full and they would thus be able to
keep a sharp look-out at night, and travel if they
wished to. Five of the camels were laden with
water casks, which were to be buried at intervals
along the route, accurate bearings of each spot to
be taken, and thus a safe line of retreat would be
provided should such prove necessary. Speed was
unnecessary on the outward journey, and the party
walked, the sixth camel carrying their stores,
ammunition, and a large assortment of Manchester
trading goods likely to appeal to the aesthetic taste
of the Bushmen. And so one evening as the last
flaming rays of the setting sun were being vanquished
by the soft moonlight, the venturesome party waved
farewell to the watchers on the little tug and started
on their journey over the seemingly illimitable
sand-dunes. They trekked in single file and by
the aid of the stars and a compass easily kept their
eastward course. The murmur of the surf grew
fainter and fainter until not a sound broke the
stillness, the soft footfall of the camels being in-
audible even to the men who led them. Halloran
had enjoined silence for some reason, and he stopped
his brother irritably when that usually irrepressible
youth started to whistle feebly. With an occasional
rest the expedition made slow but certain headway

" BUSHMAN'S PARADISE " 279

during the night, halting for the day when the
rapidly brightening east warned them that old
Sol would soon have to be reckoned with. A barrel
of water was buried in the sand, a bamboo brought
for the purpose being planted upright near the
spot, and after a hasty breakfast the tired men were
soon asleep under a light awning carried for the
purpose ; one man, however, being constantly on
watch. By noon the heat had become intolerable.
Roasting in the sun seemed preferable to stewing
under the canvas, and by three o'clock the party
were on their way again. They rested at midnight,
and rested better. The fourth night found them
still on the sand-dunes, and by this time the weird
journey was beginning to tell upon the white men.
The silence and mystery of the night, the vast
expanse of sand shown so vaguely in the moonlight,
the soft-treading, grotesquely-shaped camels, which
seemed far less real and tangible than the black
shadows thrown by them across the sand, and by
day the blinding glare of the sun thrown back
from the all-surrounding sand so fiercely that in
spite of their sun-goggles they were nearly blinded,
combined to make them high-strung and irritable.
On the fourth night it fell to young Frank Halloran
to take first watch. He had grumbled at it as
unnecessary, for so far they had seen no living

280 " BUSHMAN'S PARADISE "

creature — not even a bird. But though he grumbled
he kept a sharp look-out, for he was conscious of a
queer uneasy feeling that someone or something
was watching him in turn. The moon was bright,
but a slight haze seemed to hang over the sand,
making objects a short distance away look vague
and indistinct. He could see nothing, peer as he
would into the soft, dim distance, but he could not
shake off the uneasy feeling. Time wore on, half
his watch was over. What was that ? Surely some-
thing moving ? His rifle came to his shoulder, the
report rang out, and his comrades were awake
instantly. Nothing could be found. His brother
rated him for shooting at what was probably a
jackal, if, indeed, it had not been pure imagination.
But daylight, though it showed nothing to the
white men, showed something to the wonderfully
trained eyes of the Hottentots. " Bushman 1 "
said Gert, the elder of the two. The spoor came
from the east and led back in the same direction.
Halloran was quite elated. He took it for proof
that they were on the right track. . . .

All this can be gathered from the notes in Hallo-
ran's handwriting, which are to be found in the
pocket-book that had belonged to Kramer. The
book had had a strange fascination for him, and
he had used it for his own diary. Indeed, these

" BUSHMAN'S PARADISE " 281

short and sometimes disconnected sentences are
the only real record of the grim tragedy that
followed.

The little caravan got through the sand-belt
safely in six days, and without further alarms
from the Bushmen. Then came stony kopjes with
stunted bush, and here and there traces of game
and lions. Water could not be far off. On the
tenth day they had found the oasis, and by sending
the Hottentots on ahead with presents they had
met with no open hostility from the Bushmen.
There was plenty of water. Halloran seems to
have tried to get the diamonds by bartering goods
for them, but for some days the Bushmen had kept
up the pretence that there were no diamonds there.
Then force was threatened and a demonstration
made as to what could be done with eight repeating
rifles. Finally Halloran seems to have laid violent
hands on the chief and to have held him to
ransom against the production of the stones.
But from this time the pocket-book speaks best
for itself.

" August I3th. — They have given in. Gert has
taken the chief's message, and they have brought
us a skin-bag full of the stones. These are diamonds
right enough — fine big stones of eight or nine carats,
nearly all the same size — and we are rich men.

282 " BUSHMAN'S PARADISE "

The sight of them made us greedy, and we told the
chief they were not enough. He told us through
Gert that we had broken our word. Have we ?
Of course we did not tell him for how many diamonds
we would let him go. Besides, we will give him all
the trading goods in return. He said something to
his wives which even the Hottentots could not
understand, but they came again with a dozen
very large diamonds, and we let him go.

" I do not like the look of things. Every Bush-
man has disappeared. Do they intend to attack
us later ? We shall water the camels as soon as it
is cool enough, fill our water-bags and start on our
return journey. Luckily we have buried water all
the way back, we can travel lightly and rapidly.

" What shall we do ? They have poisoned the
water-pools. One of the Arabs, the younger Hotten-
tot, and three of our camels are dead. Lucidly,
the poison was swift, and they fell dead before Gert
and the other camels could get to the pool. We
must fly as best we may, our nearest cask is only
twelve hours away.

" BUSHMAN'S PARADISE " 283

" I4th. — We are resting the camels for a short
spell about three hours from the first cask. We
have neglected the camels in our anxiety for the
diamonds. They have had no water for three
days. We must give them most of the first cask.
It is awful work riding two on a camel, but we can
get through in four or five days, and then

" I am almost too stunned to write. We found
the cask. We had not thought of its being tampered
with. My poor brother Frank drank the first
pannikin greedily, and fell dying at our feet as he
drank. The fiends had found the water and
poisoned it. As the poor boy lay dying in my
arms the water ran unheeded into the sands. A
camel sucked it up eagerly. It is dead also. We
must on again. Surely they cannot have found
the other casks.

" I7th. — I am alone. The others are all dead — all.
We tried the water in the other casks by giving some
first to the camels. It had all been poisoned.
They are following us too, but too far off to shoot
them. Gert went mad and drank the water — it
was so bright and clear. Each time we hoped they
might not have found the next cask ; but so far
they have found them all. There are three more.

284 " BUSHMAN'S PARADISE "

The young German turned back to die fighting
the black devils. We heard him shooting for a
long time, but he must be dead too. The Arab was
missing in the night. He too had gone back. . . .
We have dragged on till within eighteen hours of
the coast, but I can go no further. When the
lieutenant and I dug up the last cask we cast lots
as to who should try it. It fell to him. I wished
him to sip it only, but once his lips were wet I could
not tear him away. . . . He cursed me as he died.
... I have all the diamonds now and would give
them all for a drink of pure water. . . . Surely
they cannot have found the other casks. I will
win through yet. It is but six hours to the next
cask.

" Another cask — but I dare not. It is bright and
cool and clear ; but so were the others ! And yet I
am dying of thirst. I can go no further. . . .
They are creeping nearer. They know my rifle
has gone, and I know that if I do not drink they
will shoot me as they did that other man — through
the back with a poisoned arrow. But I will not
wait for that. This water looks so cool and clear,
surely I "

*****
The diary ends abruptly, A week later the

" BUSHMAN'S PARADISE " 285

engineer and skipper of the little tug, venturing
across the sands in the hope of meeting the party
returning, found Halloran's body by the side of the
water-cask. Near by lay the fatal pocket-book.
But the diamonds had gone.

" THE DRINK OF THE DEAD

" THE DRINK OF THE DEAD "

A LEGEND OF BUSHMANLAND

THIS tale was told me over a camp-fire in lonely
Bushmanland.

A wild and desolate land it is, but little known
except to the occasional nomad " trek-boer," who
in the seasons when rain has made it possible wanders
from water-hole to water-hole with his scanty flocks
and herds ; or to the mounted trooper on his long
and lonely patrol ; or the even more infrequent
prospector in his search for the mineral wealth
that abounds in the district, but which scarcity of
water and cost of transport have so far rendered
useless. A land with a character all its own — of
wide stretches of low grey bush, intermingled with
the vivid-green patches of luxuriant " melkbosch,"
giving deceptive promise of non-existent moisture ;
of level plains, gay with brilliant flowers, from
which long humped ranges of granite rise in serried
lines.

289 T

2go " THE DRINK OF THE DEAD "

A common necessity had drawn two of us white
men to a distant and isolated water-hole, which to
our dismay we had found dry and empty. Neither
of us knew of other water within twelve hours'
trek, our beasts were tired, and it was a great relief
when Karelse, my Hottentot driver, declared he
knew of good water only about four hours away.
I wondered I had never heard of it before, but
Karelse, who knew every inch of the country, was
confident that though he had never been to the
spot we should find plenty of water there ; and,
sure enough, nightfall brought us to the place,
and there was water in abundance. Here we
shared coffee and biltong, and afterwards sat
smoking and yarning by the cheerful blaze of the
dry fire-bush.

The night was wild and stormy, and a cold wind
blew in sharp gusts round the fantastic pile of rocks
that rose abruptly from the small deep pool of
black-looking water, sending the sparks swirling
upwards and causing the flames to leap fiercely,
whilst the flicker of the fire shone on the glittering
" baviaan-spel " of the rocks, and the black shadows
danced to the whistle of the wind.

Overhead the sky seemed charged with rain —
the heavy, hurrying clouds lowered and trailed and
seemed as though at any moment they might launch

' THE DRINK OF THE DEAD " 291

a deluge upon the parched and yearning veldt ; but
the promise was ever an empty one, for not a
drop fell, and the rain-charged phalanxes sped onward
and ever onward, to shed their precious burthen upon
distant and more-favoured fields. . . .

Jason I had met before. Like myself he was
a prospector, and had known many lands. He
was a reserved, reliable man, who possessed a habit
of silence rare amongst men of our fraternity.
Our talk had been of Brazil, where we had both
spent many years of our youth, and almost uncon-
sciously we had fallen into Portuguese — a language
we both spoke fluently.

It was then that the Other Man appeared. Sud-
denly, silently, and alone he stepped from among
the flickering shadows of the rocks, so abruptly
as to cause both Jason and I to start up with an
exclamation. By the uncertain light of the fire he
appeared to be an elderly man of medium size,
swarthy, weather-beaten, and bearded to the eyes.
He strode to the fire, extended a limp, cold hand
to Jason and I in turn with an almost inaudible
greeting, and crouched down by the dying blaze,
his dark eyes bent upon the glowing embers.
Naturally expecting him to be Dutch, both Jason
and I had greeted him in the usual manner by giving
our own names in self-introduction. He had made

2Q2 " THE DRINK OF THE DEAD "

no reply ; but though our hearth was but a camp-
fire in a wild country, we felt that whoever he was
he was in a measure our guest, and therefore we
made no immediate attempt to find out who or
what he was. Still he did not speak. He put
aside our proffered coffee, gently but without
a word, and sat glowering and gazing into the
fire.

At last Jason spoke to him direct — first in Dutch,
and, getting no reply, in English.

" Come far ? " he queried.

There was no sign that the man had heard.
Jason looked at me with a lift of the eyebrow.
Then I tried.

" Farming ? " I asked.

No answer.

" Trading ? "

Still no answer.

" Man's dumb ! " grunted Jason.

But he was muttering now. Gradually his words
became clearer, and to our amazement he was
speaking Portuguese !

" Pesquisadores — pesquisadores, " he murmured,
" como nos outras dos tempos antigos." (Pros-
pectors— searchers for wealth, like we others of the
olden days.) "... Searching for that which is not
yours, but mine, mine by every right. . . . But

" THE DRINK OF THE DEAD " 293

you will never find it — or if you do your bones
will lie beside those others beneath the black water,
where the dead drink . . . ! "

His mutterings became again inarticulate. I
looked at Jason. He sat staring open-mouthed at
our strange visitor. For my own part I confess I
was puzzled and somewhat startled. Jason's eyes
left the stranger abruptly, and met my own, and
mutually and silently our lips framed the word —
" Mad ! " Yes, surely he must be mad, this strange
man who spoke of the " ancient days " in a tongue
rarely heard in this part of Africa ; but what was
he doing here — here, alone, in this desolate spot,
full fifty miles from human habitation.

And as we looked at each other in doubt and
hesitation the stranger began again to speak, first
in broken, disconnected sentences. But gradually
the strange, far-away tone — like that of a man
talking in his sleep — became clearer and more con-
nected, and soon Jason and I were gazing at him
as though spellbound, and drinking in every word
of the queer archaic-sounding Portuguese in which
he told his weird story — fragment, delirium, wander-
ings of a madman, call it what you will.

"... There were Bushmen then — wild dwarf
men who shot with poisoned arrows, and had seen
no white man before ,

294 'THE DRINK OF THE DEAD"

" Alvaro Nunes had still five charges for his
arquebus, and I as many for mfy hand petronel. . . .
When they heard the thunder of the powder they
cast aside their weapons and crawled to us on their
knees, taking us for gods. . . . And bearing in
mind all that the shipwrecked Castilian we had found
at Cabo Tormentoso had told us of the mine of
precious stones, we hastened to propitiate them in
every way. . . . The gauds we had brought — gay
beads, bright kerchiefs, and the like — with these
we won our way to their goodwill. They hunted
for us ; of buck and of wild game they brought us
abundance ; but though months passed we were
no nearer that which we sought — the mine of bright
stones such as the Spanisher had shown us and the
whereabouts of which these strange black, dwarfish
people alone knew. Never could we master their
strange tongue — like to the creaking and rustling
of dry bones upon a gibbet more than the speech
of humans — and time and patience alone showed
us a way. Their man of magic held great power
over them. He was of another race, of our own
stature, and with a yellow skin. He had another
tongue than these dwarf men of the bush, and this
Alvaro and I learnt when his suspicion of us gave
way and he found that we wished not to alienate
the tribe from his authority. . . . For the Spanisher

"THE DRINK OF THE DEAD" 295

had said : ' Their magician, because of his black
magic, he alone hath the secret of the mine of stones
like unto those of Golconda.' . . . Little did we
fear his magic — we who feared nothing in heaven
or earth or in the waters beneath — Alvaro and I,
old freebooters of the Spanish Main ; but they
others — Luiz Fonseca, Jose Albuquerque, and
Antonio Mendez — brave men, but ignorant shipmen,
they were fearful of the witch-doctor and his black
art.

" Then when N'buqu, the witch, had heard all
of the wonders of our land across the great water,
he would fain plot to come with us and see all
these wondrous things of which we spake. And
cunningly Alvaro led him on day by day until he
was all impatient to leave this tribe of dwarfs, who
were not even his own kinsmen. Then when all
was ripe he told him that with us there were
no wild lands full of buck for those who cared to
shoot them, that our wealth was in red gold and
shining stones ! And at long last he showed the
stone taken from the Spanisher at the Cape of
Storms. . . .

" At night when the moon was full N'buqu
took us to the black water-pit lying deep and
dark at the foot of the rocky hill. Ten fathoms
deep was it and full to the brim with icy water.

296 " THE DRINK OF THE DEAD "

Many times had we drank from it, for though
all around the land lay parched in the torrid
heat the black water-pit was always full to the
brim. ...

" But what magic was this ? Here was no water,
but a yawning shaft gaped black and dismal where
the pool had been. The shipmen shrank back in
dismay. ' Here is magic ! ' they muttered fearfully,
crossing themselves. N'buqu laughed. He also
had learnt something of our tongue, and understood.
' No magic is here/ said he, ' 'tis but a spring from
yonder hill that fills this pool, and it needs but to
turn the stream aside and the water will all drain
away. Later I will show ! '

" From a fire-stick he had brought he lit a torch
of dry wood. By its glare we saw that a hide
ladder dangled from an overhanging rock into the
deep pit. Down it N'buqu led the way, followed
by us all in turn — the shipmen with many muttered
prayers and misgivings. . . . Slimy and dank was
the fearsome place, but the bottom was firm and
rocky, and from it there branched a cavern wide
enough for us all to walk abreast. Gently it led
upward . . . and then we stood in a broader
cavern, where the light from the torch in every
direction flashed back from a myriad dazzling
points : ceiling, walls, every rock protuberance,

"THE DRINK OF THE DEAD" 297

even the very floor gleamed and scintillated till the
whole place blazed as though on fire. N'buqu
thrust the torch into Alvaro's hand. ' Look ! ' he
cried, and smote with a spear he carried at the
wall of the cavern. At the light blow a handful
of the flashing points fell to the floor. We picked
them up. They were the ' bright stones ' of the
Spanisher — they were diamonds ! Here was wealth
beyond conception — wealth beside which the fabled
Golconda would be as nought, wealth untold for us
all. But on the floor among the flashing gems
there lay many white bones — the bones of dead
men. . . . Wealth, vast wealth for us all, and yet
we quarrelled there as to the division of the stones,
and as to how we were to get them away. ' Get all
we can at once and flee this very night ! ' urged the
shipmen. ' And die of thirst in the desert places ! '
said Alvaro — for it was the season of drought !

' Stay only until we can fill our water-skins,' they

*
counselled. But Alvaro and myself — we were wiser.

N'buqu — his must be the plan. He knew the best
paths back to the Cape of Tempests, he knew the
water-holes ; we must be guided by his counsel.
And we forced them to listen. Yes, he had a plan.
Three nights hence we must flee. He would have
water ready in skins. Meanwhile each night he
would divert the water, and we must descend and

298 " THE DRINK OF THE DEAD "

collect the stones so that we should have enough
for all. At night the tribe believed that the spirits
of the dead came to the black water to drink, and
always avoided the spot. . . . And by the light of
the flickering torch we broke down showers of
the glittering stones from the soft blue rock in
which they were embedded till our pouches
were full and the torch had burned out. Then
we stumbled and groped our way over slime and
bones till we came to the shaft, and one by one
we climbed up and out into the fair white moon-
light. . . .

" Fools ! fools ! The shipmen quarrelled over
the stones the first day. Alvaro lent them dice and
they gambled with each other for their new-found
wealth. And as Alvaro wished, they quarrelled ;
and Albuquerque and Fonseca drew steel upon
each other, and there in the sunshine stabbed
each other to death. ' The more for us/ said
Alvaro, and we divided the stones they fought
for.

" That night we four went again to the black
water. Once more we loaded our pouches and
climbed out one by one. I the first, for I was
faint with the air of the cavern. Then came N'buqu.
But Alvaro came not, nor Mendez the shipman.
Impatiently I shook the ladder : it was near dawn.

" THE DRINK OF THE DEAD " 299

Then at length came Alvaro. He was ghastly in
the moonlight. And at the top he began to pull
up the ladder he had climbed by. ' But Mendez ? '
I muttered. He answered not, but still hauled the
hide rope. Then I seized him by the shoulder and
looked in his face. There was blood upon him.
' He struck me from behind,' he said ; ' my vest of
mail saved me ; he is dead. The more for us ! '
I liked not Alvaro's face, and looked to my
dagger lest to-morrow he should say ' The more
forme.' . . .

" That third night Alvaro and I for the last time
descended the black shaft. Well watched we each
the other. He had both dagger and arquebus, and
I my hand petronel and dagger too. N'buqu came
not down with us, feigning that he must prepare
all things that we might flee as soon as we had
loaded our pouches for the last time. . . . There
he left us in the black shaft — my life-long comrade
and I ; and by reason of the lust of wealth that
came upon me and because of the fear of that which
I saw in Alvaro's eye I struck him unawares as he
knelt for the last gem. Deep behind the neck my
dagger drank his blood. His vest of mail did not
save him from me ! ... And turning to flee hastily
with all the stones, I found the ladder drawn up and
N'buqu laughing at me from above.

300 " THE DRINK OF THE DEAD "

" ' Ho ! ho ! white man, white wizard ! ' he
called. ' Ye who would show me the wondrous
things of thine own land. How fares it with ye
now ? Surely thou hast enough of the bright
stones now — thy dead comrade's share and all he
had taken ; thou hast them all ! Handle them,
gaze on them, eat of them, drink of them ; for of
a surety naught else will there be for thee to eat
and drink ! Ho ! ho ! surely the black man's
magic is vain against the wisdom of the white ! '

. . And thus he taunted me, whilst vainly I
strove by means of my dagger to cut footholds in
the slimy walls of the shaft and thus climb to free-
dom. But the holes crumbled as soon as my
weight bore on them, and after falling again and
again I desisted in despair. . . . And ever the
yellow fiend above taunted me, and it was abundantly
clear that he had but feigned to fall in with our
scheme the more fully to encompass our destruction.
. . . Dawn found me raving in terror of my coming
fate — alone with the bodies of the friend whom I
had slain and the shipman who had been by him
slain. Terror had helped to parch my tongue with
thirst, and both shaft and cavern, though moist,
were drained too dry to afford one mouthful of the
precious fluid. Yet though longing for water I knew
well that when N'buqu should choose again to direct

'THE DRINK OF THE DEAD " 301

the stream I should drown like any rat. The day
passed. I heard the frightened mutterings of the
dwarf men as they crowded round the mouth of
the shaft seeking the black water that had vanished ;
but at my first hoarse shout they fled, yelling in
alarm. Day turned to night, and I had become as
one dead. The ghosts of dead Alvaro and Mendez
and a thousand others crowded round me, gibing,
and mouthing, and seeking too for the black water.
Again day, and again night came and went. Still
the water I longed for and yet feared came not.
I suffered the tortures of the damned, and fain would
I have scattered my throbbing brains with that last
charge of my hand petronel ; but ever as I raised
it dead Alvaro caught my hand in an icy grip and
I could not die. . . .

" Then again I heard N'buqu, and with him
certain men of the dwarfs he ruled. And in their
whistling, creaking tongue I heard him hold forth :
' Lo ! ye who doubted me, thus do I show my power.
These other white gods that came from afar, ye
thought them stronger than I, yet have I caused
their utter destruction. But because of the little
faith ye had in me, and as a sign of my power and
displeasure, have I also caused the spirits that dwell
in the black pool to take away the water that is
life to ye all ! '

302 " THE DRINK OF THE DEAD "

' Then I heard them moaning and begging for
the water, and the voice of the witch-doctor ordering
them to lie flat on their faces and look not up whilst
he forced the spirits to bring back that which they
had taken. Then he called to me in my own tongue
loudly : ' Ho ! thou white god ! eat thou thy fill of
the bright stones ; of water thou shalt soon drink
plenty ! ' And I knew that he would soon move
that rock whereby the water could be diverted
back to the pit. But even as he gibed at me,
leaning over the brink, dead Alvaro's ice-cold
hand guided my petronel till it covered the black
fiend's body, and the iron ball struck full and
true below his throat. Down at my feet hurtled
the body, and at the report I could hear the
dwarfs shriek and fly away from the spot in
fear.

" Not dead, but dying was he, for his magic was
naught against the weapons of the white man. Yet
magic had he, and as he died so did he curse me and
cast over me a spell of terror : ' Thou shalt guard
well thy bright stones, oh, slayer of thy friend ! '
he shrieked. ' Water shalt thou have, and yet shall
never quench thine awful thirst ; hunger shall
consume thee and thou shalt not eat ; thou shalt
long for death, yet shalt thou not die ! ' And
cursing thus he died ; and his ghost joined the

' THE DRINK OF THE DEAD " 303

band of weird watchers in the cavern of bright
stones. . . .

" And the tribe of dwarfs one by one died of
thirst, for it was a year of fearful heat, and they
knew of no other water. Day by day they came
shrieking and praying to the spirits of the black
shaft to give them back the water. Day by day
they flung living men into the pit as sacrifice to
join the spirits below, till all, all were dead. Yet
could I not die ! . . .

" Over their bleached bones the black water again
runs. Below, guarded by the dread watchers, lie
the bright stones. Seek not the spot, ye white
men who speak the old tongue, lest ye too watch
for ever ; for the place is accursed ! . . . "

The strange narration ended as it began, not
abruptly, but in indistinct mutterings.

Half fascinated, Jason and I had followed every
word of the strange archaic Portuguese. The
rhythmic sentences seemed to have had an
almost hypnotic effect upon us, for neither of us
afterwards remembered how and when we fell
asleep.

I was awakened by Karelse shaking me. It was
just break of day. I felt heavy, sleepy, and con-
fused, and for a moment remembered nothing.
" Coffee, baas, " said the Hottentot ; and as I sipped

304 "THE DRINK OF THE DEAD"

it I remembered. I looked round. Jason was
sleeping like a log. Our strange visitor had gone.
" Where is the other baas ? " I inquired of Karelse.
He stared at me, and then looked over at Jason.
" No, no, " I said impatiently, " the old baas that
came in the night ? " Karelse's face was a study.
He had evidently seen no one, though the boy's fire
had been not twenty yards from our own. Had
I dreamt the whole thing ? I strode over and
roused Jason. He woke with a startled exclama-
tion. His first words assured me the old man had
been there. " Damn that mad chap," he said.
" His horrible old yarn made me dream badly.
Where is he ? " Karelse stared from one to the
other, his yellow face a queer ashen grey. He was
plainly frightened. " Come," said I to Jason, " let
us go and have a sluice : there is water in plenty."
I led the way to the pool. It had been too dark
for us to see it properly when we had arrived the
evening before. We bent over the dark, clear
water. Sheer and black the pit went down, and it
was plainly of great depth. And from the brink
the granite kopje rose abruptly. Jason and I looked
at each other, then at Karelse.

" Karelse," I asked, " have you ever been here
before ? "

" No, baas," he faltered ; " there is always plenty

" THE DRINK OF THE DEAD " 305

of good water here, they say, but the place has a
bad name and no one comes here. They say it is
haunted."

" What do they call the place ? " I asked.

" Dood Drenk," he said — " the Drink of the
Dead ! "

u

THE WATERS OF ERONGO

THE WATERS OF ERONGO

NORTH-EAST of Swakopmund, and somewhere where
the line that runs the copper ore down from Otari
has a station called Omaruru, there stands a mass
of huge table-topped mountains. At the time of
which I write they were known as the Erongos, so
named after a famous chief of the Gainin Bushmen,
who had made something of a stand there against
the invading Damaras that eventually " ate up "
both him and his tribe.

Even in that land, where most mountains are
table-topped, and where the flat plateau above and
the plain beneath represent geological epochs that
are divided by aeons of years, these Erongo Moun-
tains are remarkable ; for they have never been
climbed. From their base thick vegetation can
be seen crowning the inaccessible summit, and in
several places water flows in gushing cataracts down
the steep cliffs that frown upon the plain on every
side.

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310 THE WATERS OF ERONGO

This mountain had always had a great fascination
for me ; and once or twice, in the old days, before
the railway came, and when we used to water our
transport animals at these same streams, I attempted
to climb its steep sides, full of curiosity to see what
the top might be like.

But I never got within a thousand feet of it, for
the crowning bastions are almost sheer, and would
need a better cragsman than myself to negotiate.

Isolated, and rising straight from the plain to a
height of about 3,000 feet, it formed a prominent
landmark for those few traders or prospectors who,
in the old days, returned from their trips to the
north to Walnsch Bay by this route ; and I was
glad indeed to see its huge bulk towering up one day
— more years ago than I care to remember — when
trekking in from a long expedition in the Kaokoveld
— for it meant that my long journey was nearly
finished.

With my wagon I had as cook and roust-about
an old Englishman named Jim Blake, who had ran
away from his ship at Walfisch Bay many years
before, and who had traversed the country in all
directions, since then, as few men had. In spite
of the many years he had spent there, and the fact
that he spoke many of the native dialects well,
his Cockney accent was as pronounced as ever it

THE WATERS OF ERONGO 311

could have been when he first shipped at Limehouse ;
and he had, apparently, a wholesale contempt for
everything, and everybody, but himself.

As his employer, he tolerated me, and as he was
invaluable in many ways, I tolerated him in return,
but he had one habit that always annoyed me
immensely. In season and out of season he would
say : " Yer don't know heverythink — if yer thinks
yer does ! " ; and I could never break him of it.

Well, the evening that I speak of, we outspanned
under the cliffs of Erongo, and the oxen drank deep.

We had had a very successful trip, and I felt at
peace with all mankind, as I sat smoking, and
watching the setting sun turn the tall rocks from
gold to crimson, and thence through a whole gamut
of purples, violets and mauves to the cold grey
of twilight.

" Pritty, 'aint it ? " said a voice at my elbow. It
was old Blake. His mahogany face shone with the
effects of the first soap and water he had been able
to use for weeks, for we had been very short of
water ; and even his arms showed the tattoo-marks
that were usually hidden by the grime inseparable
to life in the desert.

" Yes," I answered, " it's beautiful — the most
beautiful mountain I know — in Africa. I wonder
what's on top ? I've had a go at climbing it myself

312 THE WATERS OF ERONGO

several times — but, of course, it can't be done. The
Bushmen couldn't — Erongo himself only had his
werf half-way up when he fought the Damaras. No
one has ever climbed it ! "

" You don't know heverythink — if yer thinks yer
does," sniffed old Jim ; " you're wrong. I've bin
up it meself ! "

" Rubbish, Jim ! " I said ; " don't talk rot. How
far have you been up, anyway ? As far as the
bottom of the big fall, I suppose ? "

" To the top and all over it," said old Jim. " Oh,
I knows yer don't believe. But it's gospel. You
don't know heverythink ! "

" No, that's true, Jim," said I meekly, for
I wanted his yarn. " I know you sailormen can
climb better than I ever shall — but how did you
do it ? Ropes ? Ladders ? . . . How ? "

" No," he answered slowly, turning his quid in
his cheek, and spitting with great precision at a
blue-headed lizard that had emerged from a crack
in the rock and sat eyeing us. " Got yer ! " he
went on as the small reptile retired in considerable
discomfiture.

" No, neether ladders nor ropes. If yer reely
wants ter know, I were carried up !

" Oh, you can chuckle, but so it were ! Twenty
year or more agone I came here fust. There was

313

four of us white men ; me as cook, two prospectors,
and the perfesser.

" He was a queer bloke, that perfesser — clever,
too, but bless yer — he didn't know heverythink !
I'd bin with him a long time, and he used ter tell
me more'n he tole the other fellers ... a clever
sort of chap . . . but he didn't know heverythink.
And he 'ad one great pecooliarity : he was ever-
lastingly afeard of getting old ! He must ha' bin
well over fifty, but he used ter get himself up out-
rageous young : and when I docked his shaving-
water he cussed most wonderful !

" ' Cleanliness, and stric' observance of rules of
life — that is the only way ter keep young, Blake,' he
would say ter me.

" Well, in them days, bein' young, I didn't see
much in what he said, and if I got a wash once a
month I was werry well satisfied ; and arter a while
this 'ere washing business of his got on my nerves.
'Cause, as yer know, when water's been used fer a
bath, yer can't werry well use it fer anything but
washing up, or biling pertaters, or sich like, and he
was the wastefullest man I ever had to cook for.
Well, we comes up here on our way to the Koaka
Velt on some kind of scientific trip er other — I
dunno, and it didn't matter as long as I was paid —
and the two prospectors they brings in gold, and

314 THE WATERS OF ERONGO

tin, and copper, and all sorts of muck, and the
perfesser was busy ' blow-piping/ and ' classifying/
and what not, and every day he gets more 'centrick.
Then he gets sick — only a bit of fever, but it laid
him out bad for a time : and he couldn't shave, and
he couldn't bath, and that hurt him wuss'n the
fever. We was here, then ; jist in this same camp.
And when he got well enough to talk again I took
him his cawfee one morning, and sees him a-looking
at himself in a little glass : and he looked fair
frightened ! He'd got a week's bristles on, and they
was grey, o' course — he weren't no chicken, anyway !
And he says to me — pitiful like — ' Blake, I surely
don't look as old as all that ? '

" ' You've bin ill, perfesser,' I says, ' and it don't
make a man look younger. You'll be all right when
you've had a bath — there's plenty o' water now.'

" Well, I could see 'e weren't satisfied, because he
gives a bit of a groan, and looks at hisself in the glass
agin. But a day or two arterwards he was well
enough to get up, and when he sees Erongo for the
fust time, with the water a-pouring down that big
fall, he brightens up at once.

" ' Just the very place — the very place. Who
knows but it may be true ? Never to be old ! . . .
Never to be old ! ' I hears him a-saying, over and
over again ; but nat'rally, I on'y thought he was

THE WATERS OF ERONGO 315

a bit off his napper, same as half these 'ere per-
fessers is, wot think they know heverythink !
Anyhow, as soon as ever he was able, oft he goes
and bathes in the stream, farther up, a goodish way
from the camp, and a power o' good it seemed to do
him, for he comes back a-looking ten years younger.
Next day he sends the two prospectors out fer a long
trip and then he calls me.

" ' Jim,' says he, ' 'ow do you think I look ? '

" ' Look ? ' I says — for I was fair mazed at the
look of him, ' why ten years younger than ever I
seed yer ! '

" ' Just so,' says 'e. . . . ' It's true then ! '

" ' Wot's true,' I says.

" ' The water of life,' says he ; ' I have searched
for it fer years ! '

" ' Take some quinine,' says I, ' and back yer goes
to bed,' for I'd seen fever patients that way afore.

" ' You don't know heverythink, Blake,' he says —
he 'ad a nasty way o' using that there expression ;
' it isn't fever — it's joy. For if the stream below
has such an effect, wot will the source be like ? '

" Well, it wasn't much good taking notice of what
he said, but anyhow, next day 'e'd gone !

" The boys said he'd gone upstream towards the
big fall, and arter a while I follered him. As you
know, that there waterfall takes a lot of reaching,

316 THE WATERS OF ERONGO

but I gets there at last, and there he was a-sitting
in the stream. Lord, I 'ardly knew 'im, he looked
so young and vigorous, and full o' life. He wanted
me to bathe, but I'd had a wash on'y a day or two
before, and I wouldn't. But, my word, he seemed
to keep getting younger ; and as fer strength, why
on our way back he jumped over rocks like a klip-
bok — I never seen the like ! Next mornin' he'd gone
agin, and this time he stays away fer two days, and
I gets scared. The prospectors was away, and there
was on'y me and the boys — and I couldn't get 'em
to go far up Erongo, for they said it was full of
devils. P'raps they was right — them there boys
knows a lot — though they don't know heverythink !
Third day I gets up early and goes right up the side
o' the stream, till I gets to the waterfall, but no sign
did I find. And I sits there a-pondering, till all
of a sudden I 'ears a voice a-calling — ' Jim ! '

" I turns round, and there 'e was — at least I
s'posed it was him ! He hadn't a stitch o' clothes
on, and his skin shone like a babby's. Look young ?
Why the only thing I knew about 'im was his voice !
And he came a-bounding over the rocks as if he
was made of injy-rubber. And his face was all
a-shinin' — it made me think o' pictures o' hangels
to see him.

" ' Jim ! Jim ! ' he sings out; half a-laughing and

THE WATERS OF ERONGO 317

'alf sobbing, ' it's true ! it's true ! — look at me —
I'm young agin ! I'm immortal ! '

" ' You're naked,' I says, ' and you ought to
know better at your time o' life — and in this 'ere 'ot
sun too ! '

" He laughs like a madman.

" ' Ye old fool/ he says (nice it was, and on'y
yesterday he'd bin a lot older than me !). ' Don't
you see it's true ? I've been to the top, man, and
bathed in the source there, and I'm immortal ! '

" ' You're barmy,' I says, though I was a bit
scared, for never have I seen such a difference !

" ' Come with me to the top — and bathe,' says he,
' and see fer yerself ! '

" ' Who's to take me ? ' I says. ' I ain't a bird ! '

" ' I will ! ' he shouts ; and before you could 'a' said
' Jack Robinson,' he grabs 'old of me in a clove
hitch !

" I was strong and a bit useful in them days,
but I was like a babby in the arms of a giant, and
he tucked me under one arm and 'eld me like a
parcel. And then — well ! I know yer don't believe
it, but yer don't know he very think. He jist went
up the side of that there cliff like a klip-springer,
catching on to little points of rock, and a-springing
from place to place, as if I didn't weigh more'n a
feather ; with me under his arm a-hollering blue

3i8 THE WATERS OF ERONGO

murder, and a-lookin' down sick and dizzy, and
a-praying for him not to let me fall ! Right up
that there cliff as you can see from here we went,
and almost afore I knew what had happened, I
was on top. There was thick grass, and bush, and
flowers, and tall trees and fruit I'd never seen afore,
and butterflies everywhere, and he sat me down jist
close to the brink, and there I sat a-gasping. And
then he laughed — and what a laugh it was — jist like
a trumpet ringing out, and he says again : ' Come
and bathe, man, and be immortal, like me ! '

" And then he hustles me off into the wood,
flustered and frightened, and a wondering when
I should get down to terra-cotta agin. That there
mountain ain't flat on top, its cup-shaped, and it's
only the rim you can see from here ; and there's
trees and water everywhere, and birds a-singing,
and flowers a-blooming and butterflies a-flitting,
and if there' d o'ny bin a nice little pub up there,
like wot I knows of there at 'ome in Lime'ouse,
it would 'a' bin Parrydise — and I'd 'a' stayed. We
sees no animals and no snakes, and we goes along
the banks of the stream, and at last we conies to a
deep pool that bubbled and fizzed up like soda
water, all over.

" ' The Source ! ' he says ; ' the Source ! '—an'
you could ha' 'card 'is voice a mile off ; ' the Water

THE WATERS OF ERONGO 319

of Life ! I bathed here this morning — look at me !
Come, bathe, old fool, and be young, and a com-
panion fer me, and we'll stay here fer ever ! '

" 'Course, I knew he must be barmy — though 'ow
he got me up that cliff certainly is a mystery !
Any'ow, I thought I'd better 'umour 'im a bit. So
I starts to undress ; and then I pauses.

" ' Any beer here ? ' I asks.

" ' Beer, what do you want vile beer for, when
there's necktie fit fer the gords to drink ? ' says 'e.

" ' Baccy ? ' I asks agin — knowin' he 'ated it.

" ' Phaw,' he says, ' your filthy smoke — what
need is there of it ? '

" ' Wimmen ! ' I says, thinkin' that would be a
clincher fer him.

" ' Yes,' he shouts ; ' beautiful nymphs, spirits
as immortal as myself ! '

" ' I don't see 'em ! ' says I.

" ' They are in the water/ says he ; ' beautiful
water nymphs — and wood nymphs lurks there among
the trees ! Bathe, fool, and your eyes will be
opened ! '

" That settled it. I'd got an argyment fer 'im
now.

" ' Not me,' I says, putting my shirt on agin.
' No beer ; no baccy ; no wimmen but a lot o'
shameless huzzies a-hiding and a-waiting to watch

320 THE WATERS OF ERONGO

a feller bathe ! Not me. I go back — besides, I
'ad a bath on'y a few days ago.'

" Well, 'e was that wild I thought 'e'd chuck me
in, but I 'umored and coaxed 'im — for I had to get
'im to take me down again ; and at last 'e did. How
he did it I don't know, for when he took me up,
like a kid, I shut me eyes, and never opened 'em
agin till he put me down at the foot of the waterfall.

" ' Good-bye, fool,' he said ; ' some day you'll be
sorry ! '

" Well, we never seen 'im agin, and when I told
the prospectors wot I'd seen, they told me to put
more water in my grog. And at last the whole
outfit went back and reported the perfesser lost or
dead.

" But I knows better : he's up there yet ! Look !
— see that smoke on the top ? Well, who's a-goin' to
make a fire on Erongo if it ain't 'im ? You don't
know he very think, if yer thinks yer does."

PrinM in Grtai Britain by Wyman 6- Sons Ltd., London and Reading

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3 H 58 00303

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UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY

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