"Hurroo!" yelled Mac and Stewart in unison, prancing around delightedly, and for the moment Phil's delinquencies were forgotten in the tribute of praise that my worthy henchmen generously accorded the "golologist." They ended by making him a present of the fateful gem, though Mac somewhat spoilt the effect of the gift by soliloquising rather loudly—
"It'll be well to propeetiate the golologist, Stewart, my man, for he's nae sae stupid as he looks, efter a'."
Soon after we renewed our march, much uplifted at the thought of acquiring treasure even more valuable than gold; but though we kept a sharp look-out on the ground surface, the early afternoon passed without any further coloured pebbles being discovered, whereat Mac again commenced to revile the country with his customary eloquence.
"That ruby wis a delooshun," he asserted stoutly. "Some o' the El Dorado fairies must ha'e put it there on purpose to deceive us, an' noo they'll be having grand fun at oor expense."
"Hustle along old Misery, and don't moralise," I interjected hastily.
"Moralise?" he echoed. "Me moralise? No vera likely. I never dae such a thing. Gee up, Meesery, an' stop winkin' at me this meenit."
But the mention of El Dorado had aroused in Stewart a strain of recollection, and as he paced beside his cumbrous charge he made several ineffectual attempts to recite some ancient verses as learned in the days of his youth.
"I canna mind the poetry o' it," he broke out at last, "but the story was real bonnie; it telt hoo a warrior went out to seek for El Dorado, and—and——" Then his memory came back to him, and he chanted out dismally
"And as his strength Failed him at length, He met a pilgrim shadow. 'Shadow,' said he, 'Where can it be, This land of El Dorado?' 'Over the mountains Of the moon, Down the valley of the Shadow, Ride, boldly ride,' The Shade replied, 'If you seek for El Dorado.'" |