The boys grew very silent as they approached the head of the valley, where they knew the hole was that the nugget had been taken from. Even George, for all his light-hearted gaiety, was quiet, and rode along with his eyes steadily fixed upon the end of the valley and his jaw squarely set, in a way that made him resemble Alec more closely than ever. Over country of the wild, rocky sort, of which the valley consisted, it is always the best plan to leave your horse to choose his own way, and both Murri and the boys followed this method.
The black boy, who was ignorant of the object of the long journey they had taken, and did not trouble his head to think why they should have travelled so far to see the Whanga, was the merriest of the party. He had no terrible anxiety about finding the gold to trouble him, and as he had plenty to eat and plenty of "toombacco" he was as happy as the day was long. He was singing a long, monotonous corroborree, with an appreciation of his own efforts that was very delightful to witness, occasionally interrupting it to shout at the horse he was leading, or to call out something to the boys, who were ahead.
For some little time they had heard a dull, roaring noise in front of them, and as the boys approached the head of the valley, the air was shaken by the heavy sound of a fall of water, but they could see no cascade that could account for it. When the party was within a very short distance of the great cliff in which the gully ended, Alec pulled up his horse, turned round and said to Murri, who was slapping his naked thigh in time to the song he was singing—
"Murri, whereabouts um hole where Black Harry find um 'heavy stone'?" which was the name the blacks had given to the nugget that Harry had worn.
"Yo go on along um picannini creek, other side along o' that fellow," answered he, making a sweep with his arm and indicating a great buttress of rock which projected into the gully, and round which the stream, "um picannini creek," was flowing. "Mine believe plenty much water fill um hole like along o' that time picannini Murri come along o' Whanga," added he, carelessly.
Alec's heart sank as he understood what Murri meant. He remembered that he had told him, at the camp at Wandaroo, that when he was there before, with his tribe as a little lad, the pool was full of water. Alec had hoped that it would be all dried up after the long drought they had suffered, and, notwithstanding the stream which flowed down the valley, he had trusted to the last that the water might not be flowing through that one particular pool.
"Geordie," said Alec, catching his brother up, "we must be prepared for the worst. Murri says that he believes the hole is filled with water, just as it was when he was a picannini and came here."
As he spoke they all rounded the great abutting rock, and saw before them a grand cascade of shining water falling in one huge column from the cliff, and plunging, amidst sheets of silvery spray, into the deep rock basin at its foot.
Murri ceased his corroborree for a moment, and pointing to the foaming pool said in the most unconcerned manner—
"That's um hole yo come see. Yo like um?"