"Halfway between this and where you left the other white people is a
redwood tree--of which two sticks point over the path. From the path on
the other side, a slope of smooth rock falls away. Just below this--
resting upright between two stones--one pointed, the other round--is
that which you seek."

Briefly I translated this to my companion. Her reception of it showed a
practical mind.

"What if he wants to send us off on a fool's errand while he climbs down
to the crevice there and gets hold of the real coin?" she said.

"Well, of course, nothing's impossible. But, do you know, I believe
him. I would in fact risk a considerable bet on it."

"Well, I am in your hands, Mr Glanton," she said. "You know these
people thoroughly. I, not at all."

To tell the truth, I believed Ukozi's statement completely, so much so
as not to think it worth while bothering about any thought of the
responsibility I might be incurring. Otherwise I might have foreseen a
reproachful manner, and a sinking in her estimation, if we found
nothing. So I poured the contents of my snuff tube into Ukozi's hands
and bade him farewell.

"I declare I feel quite excited over this," Aida Sewin said, as we
rapidly retraced our steps. "Look. Here is where we left the others--
and--there's the slab of rock."

"Yes. It won't be a difficult scramble. Now Miss Sewin, you shall have
the opportunity of verifying Ukozi's dictum yourself. So--you go
first."

In a moment we were below the rock--a matter of ten yards' descent--and,
in a small dry watercourse beneath we descried the glint of something.
A cry of delight escaped her.

"Why, here it is. Just exactly as he described. Come and look, Mr
Glanton."

Sure enough at our feet, leaning almost upright between the two stones--
the pointed one and the round--was the lost coin.

"But what was it we saw in the crevice?" she said, when the first
astonishment was over. "That seemed to shine, too."

"Probably a point of rock worn smooth. Well, Ukozi has again borne out
his reputation."

"Again? Why? Have you tried him before?"

Her eyes seemed to search my face. There was--or seemed to be--no
prevaricating.

"Well, perhaps. Once. Or rather, he tried me. I'll tell you about it
some day. By Jingo, it's getting dark, and I don't like the look of the
sky. The sooner we're in the better."

Great solid masses of cloud were banking up beyond the further ridge of
the Tugela valley, a