w such a thirst for gold.

"Diamonds, gold, and precious stones are said to exist, as also vast
forests of ebony and cedar-trees," continued the missionary, gazing
abstractedly into the fire; "but with these revelations came strange
tales as to the existence of ruined cities almost swallowed up by giant
forest growth; the remains of a mighty but extinct race, said to lie
three weeks' journey to the north and west of our settlement at Santa
Lucia Bay. It is these ruins I seek."

"And Mozelkatse's pass is necessary to reach them?" asked Hughes.

"Yes! will you join me in the search?" replied the missionary, eagerly,
pausing for a while as the other looked moodily into the embers without
replying; and then continuing, "I must not deceive you as to the
difficulty and even the danger of the search. Efforts have already been
made to reach the ruins, and they have ever failed. The jealous care of
the native chiefs surrounds them with attributes of sanctity; the
terrible tetse-fly haunts the country; and the waggons must be left
behind. There are danger and difficulty in the path, but it is one
which has never yet been trodden by European foot. Up to the present
moment all efforts made to penetrate the country have failed, and the
old temples and palaces of a once glorious race, if indeed they do
exist, serve as a den for the beasts of prey, or a refuge for the hardly
less savage Kaffir."

The missionary's pale face and sunken cheek was lighted up with an
enthusiastic glow. The scene was a strange one, the dancing firelight,
the blue sky overhead, the far-away ghostlike outline of the mountains,
the loud laughter of the Kaffirs, as they gorged themselves with eland
and koodoo meat, the white tent gleaming under the starlight, and the
strange cries of the wandering inhabitants of the African plain. Then,
too, the words, "difficulty and danger." Could he refuse to share them
with the man who had that day saved his life?

He struck his hand into the missionary's opened and muscular palm.

"Willingly I will go with you, sharing your danger, your triumph, or
your defeat. But what about the pass from Mozelkatse? Did you obtain
it?" he asked.

"No. As I told you, I was returning from the country of the
Matlokotlopo, where I had been for the purpose. I had left my people at
Zoutpansburgh to follow me, and came on alone, intending to camp on the
banks of this river. In the grey of the morning I was waylaid by the
li