y my luck again, I mean."

Robson nodded again, this time approvingly.

"That's the way. Ye'll be no worse off than before. But I'm thinking
there was the news from down yonder getting cold."

"Oh, of course. I was forgetting. Well, they seem in a bit of a stew
over the river there. A sweep named Babatyana is beginning to give
trouble. Some think the Ethiopian movement is behind it, and others
don't. But there's certainly something simmering."

"He has been troublesome before. They ought to get hold of him and make
an example of him, same as they did with those fellows at Richmond."

"Wonder if we shall have a war," went on Stride.

"I shouldn't be surprised. I've been in these parts a good many years,
and I was up in Matabeleland in '96, when they started there, as you
know. We were in a prospecting camp just like this, and I shan't forget
the nine days three of us had dodging the rebels. Others weren't so
lucky. Well, it'd be pretty much the same here, only we couldn't dodge
these because there's no cover. It'd simply mean mincemeat."

"Gaudy look out. In truth, Robson, a prospector's life is not a happy
one."

"No fear, it isn't. Here I've been at it on and off over sixteen years
in all parts of this country pretty well. I struck something once, but
it petered out, and still I've kept on. Once a prospector, always a
prospector. Learn from me, Harry Stride, and chuck it. You're not too
old now, but you soon will be."

"Oh, I don't know. There's a sort of glorious uncertainty about it--
never knowing what may turn up."

"Except when there's the glorious certainty of knowing that nothing is
going to turn up, as in the present case. Yet, I own, there's something
about it that gets into the blood, and stays there."

"Well, what d'you think, Robson? We don't seem to be doing much good
here. How would it be to change quarters?"

"If there's any stuff in the country at all it's here. I've located it
pretty accurately. The stuff is here, there's no doubt about that,
but--is there enough of it? We'll try a little longer."

"All right, old chap. I'm on. I say, I'll tell you a rum find I made
on the way up yesterday afternoon. I'd just got through the Bobi
drift--beastly place, you know--swarming with crocs. I lashed a couple
of shots into the river to scare any that might be about. Well, on this
side, just above water level, and stuck in the brushwood, I found--what
d'you think?"