r of you with a most murderous stone club which I tore up out of the
ground. It's sharp as a sword on one side."

Something in the words seemed to strike Fleetwood.

"Sharp as a sword?" he echoed.

"Why yes. What's there in particular about that?"

"Why only that it'll do to dig with."

"To dig with? Are we in a position to do our fossicking now?"

"Rather. Now we're here--bang on the very spot we should be record
idiots if we didn't do something towards discovering what we've come
for."

"I'm with you there," rejoined Wyvern. "But here we are, with one
six-shooter between us, no rifles or even a shot-gun. How are we going
to get scoff?"

"Oh, Hlabulana will take care of that. He has some remarkably efficient
assegais."

"Well upon my word, the adventure was wild enough before but it has
about reached the March hare stage now," pronounced Wyvern with a laugh.
"However our luck, if varied, has turned right last time, and we'll try
it again."

It was indeed as he had said, a mad adventure. Here were these two, in
the heart of a wild and dangerous region, inadequately armed even, and
trusting to chance for the bare means of subsistence; and yet instead of
making their way back to civilisation as soon as possible--especially
after their recent perilous experience and hairbreadth escape--they
elected to remain and prosecute their search, yet it is of such that
your real adventurer is made.

"We'll have to keep a bright look-out for Bully Rawson," said Fleetwood,
as they entered the cave. "I know he got clear, and if he has any
suspicions that we did, it won't be long before we see or hear from
him."

"There's no doubt about the place, I suppose?" said Wyvern, for him,
rather excitedly. "Look. Here's where I found the opal."

"Not a shadow of doubt Hlabulana has been going over all the situation
with me while you were snoozing inside--Lord! and I not knowing it."

Then, somehow, a silence fell between the two men as they stood looking
at each other in the semi-gloom. Were they really going to unearth the
rich secret which this savage mountain range had held buried within its
lone and desolate heart for so many years, the secret which should make
the rest of their lives a time of ease and possession, which should
bring to one, at any rate, that which would make life almost too good to
live?

"Come on. Let's get to work," said Fleetwood. "Where's this weapon of
yours? We can't have very far to