Argosy, Vol. 1 (1882) — page 241: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

232 “Find another pick, or something in the way of a shovel, Elmer. We may make a haul before night that will be worth the interest on your entire fortune for a year.” Once out of the excavation, which curved sharply where it entered the hillside, Bradshaw found himself at the head of a lane that led straight down to a river not very far away. | His heart leaped at the sight. On their first visit to this place, Pan had asserted that there must be a river on this side of the ridge, and here it was close at hand. Doubtless it was a confluent of the Zambesi, and from here on the journey would be comparatively easy. As the lane was well trodden, show- ing that it was a passage from the mine to the river, it occurred to him that pos- sibly the waterway would involve the necessity of passing through the chief town of the Marotses; for Dirik’s routed workmen had returned to the town in canoes, thus proving that the river was their thoroughfare. To learn what he could on this point he went on to the margin of the river, passing on the way a number of huts where undoubtedly the black miners had lodged. There was no sign of life in or about them now. At the river’s edge were plain indica- tions of a landing place for canoes, but there were no signs of boats or other craft. Bradshaw had dimly hoped that a raft might be there that had been left behind by the Marotses. The lack of one was a small matter except for the time that must be consumed in felling trees and constructing such a craft. As he stood there he picked up a stick and threw it far out upon the water. It floated rapidly away in a northeasterly direction. That was satis- factory, for it meant that this river flowed from and not to the Marotse town. Then Bradshaw felt a slight tinge of uneasiness. It had taken his expedi- tion six days to march from the neigh- THE ARGOSY. borhood of the mine to the outskirts of the town; and the morning after his arrival there the routed blacks had come in canoes. They had worked their way against the current, a strong one, as the floating stick showed, and it had taken them six days, for there could be no doubt that they started immedi- ately after the death of Dirik. How long would it take a party of warriors to come from the town to the mine, considering that the current would be in their favor? It was an anxious question, for what- ever the answer, it seemed that his party was liable to attack at any mo- ment. The Marotses might have started already in spite of their super- stitious aversion to intruding upon the home of their gods. There could be no doubt whatever that in time the Marotses would come; for when Dirik’s partners returned from the Transvaal they would incite the entire tribe to war rather than lose their property. So it was with a heart heavier than before that Bradshaw retraced his steps to the mine. On the way he heard Mur- dock laughing and crying aloud inco- herently. The sounds were horribly thrilling, suggesting as they did the complete wreck of the old man’s mind. Bradshaw hurried, and when he rounded the curve in the excavation, he saw Murdock kneeling beside the skeletons. He had Dirik’s bright scarf in his hands, and he was ripping it apart at every spot where there had seemed to be a knot 1n the fabric. “Ha! ha!” he shouted as he ob- served Bradshaw approaching, “ see here! Diamonds, Elmer, diamonds! ” He held up a pebble that he took from a fold of the scarf and then thrust it into his pocket. “Tt was Dirik’s hiding place,” he raved on, ripping the fabric as he talked and cramming the pebbles into his pockets; “ he well knew that it was a safe place, for his person -vas sacred. CO