and there among the mighty trees, looking like masses
of rock, lay scattered far as the eye could reach, following the bend of
the river, fallen masonry.

Both stopped dead in utter astonishment, looking like men at once
frightened and bewildered, the missionary's usually calm and impassive
countenance growing one moment deadly, pale, the next flushing a deep
crimson. So great was the shock, so totally unexpected the event--for
he had perfectly believed in what the Amatonga had said--that the tears
stood in his eyes.

Here, then, was a confirmation of all his theories. Here the vast ruins
among the gold fields of king Solomon; here the source of the Sabe, or
Golden River, down whose stream the boats of bygone days floated gold,
cedar-wood, and precious stones. An Englishman's first impulse at once
seized on Hughes, and, yielding to it, the two exchanged a vigorous
shake of the hand.

"What could induce Umhleswa to tell us such an untruth?" were the first
words which broke from the missionary's lips.

"Because the ruins are sacred, and these people believe no rain will
fall for three years if they be molested," was the reply. A sense of
the danger now stole upon the missionary's mind as his comrade spoke.

"Hughes, I shall go on; but I have no right and no wish to endanger your
life. Leave the adventure to me; return to camp while there is yet
time."

The soldier's face flushed to the roots of his hair, and he made no
reply, simply grasping his rifle and moving forward.

"Stay," urged the missionary, laying his hand on the other's shoulder,
"I meant no unkindness. As a matter of simple prudence you ought to
return. If harm happened to one of us, it would not matter as far as
the world is concerned; if to both, this secret would be lost with us."

"Don't talk nonsense," replied Hughes, firmly, "but come along. We are
comrades in danger as in all else. What one shares, the other does too.
This must have been once a vast pile."

"Gold, cedars, and now the ruins; we have found all," muttered the
missionary, as, yielding the point, he strode onward, once more sinking
into reverie.

There rose right in front of them two massive ruins of pyramidical form,
which must at one time have been of great height. Even now, broken and
fallen as they were, the solid bases only remaining, they were noble and
imposing. Part had come tumbling down, in one jumbled mass, into the
bed of the river, while the dwarf acacia