Dyke, who had just been and
opened the door of his case of curiosities.

"Zo!" said the old man. "Ah, und negs time you see dot Kaffir poy you
make zome blace like dot upon der dop of his het. Und vot else have you
there?--any dings to zell me?"

"Oh no; only a few curiosities I picked up. Look! I took these all out
of the gizzard of an old cock ostrich we were obliged to kill, because
he broke his leg."

Dyke handed a rough little wooden bowl to the old man.

"Ach! Mein cracious!" he cried.

"You wouldn't have thought it. And here's a great piece of rusty iron
that he had swallowed too; I picked it out when I had lost a knife, and
thought he had swallowed it."

"Mein cracious!" cried the old man again, and he let his pipe fall and
break on the rough table.

Dyke laughed as the visitor turned over the stones and the bit of rusty
iron.

"One would have thought it would kill them to swallow things like that,
but they're rare birds, Herr Morgenstern; they'll try and swallow
anything, even straw-hats."

"Mein cracious, yes!" cried the old man again. "Und so, bube, you did
vind all dose--dose dings in dem gizzard ov dot pirt?"

"Yes, all of them. I've got another bowlful that I picked up myself.
There are a good many about here."

"You vill let me loog ad dem, mein younger vrient?"

"Of course," said Dyke, and he fetched from the case another rough
little bowl that he had obtained from one of the Kaffirs.

There were about ten times as many of the stones, and with them pieces
of quartz, shining with metallic traces, and some curious seeds.

Morgenstern turned them over again and again, and glanced at Emson, who
looked low-spirited and dejected.

"Ach, zo! Mein cracious!" cried the old man; then, with his voice
trembling: "Und zo there are blendy of dose shdones apout here?"

"Yes; I've often seen the ostriches pick them up and swallow them. I
suppose it's because they are bright."

"Yes, I suppose it ist pecause they are zo bright," said the old man,
pouring out a handful of the stones into his hand, and reverently
pouring them back into the rough wooden bowl. Then rising, he shook
hands silently with Dyke.

"Going to bed?"

"No, mein younger vrient, nod yed. I haf somedings to zay to your
bruder," and turning to Emson, who rose to say good-night to him, he
took both his hands in his own, and pumped them up and down.

"Yoseph Emzon," he said, in a deeply moved voice, "I like you when you