The men came up with him.
“Hallo, mate! Come from the diggings?”
“Yes.”
“What luck?”
“Very good.”
“Haw! haw! What! found a fifty-carat? Show it us.”
“We found five big stones, my mate and me. He is gone to Cape Town to sell them. I had no luck when he had left me, so I have cut it; going to turn farmer. Can you tell me how far it is to Dale's Kloof?”
No, they could not tell him that. They swung on; and, to Staines, their backs were a cordial, as we say in Scotland.
However, his travels were near an end. Next morning he saw Dale's Kloof in the distance; and as soon as the heat moderated, he pushed on, with one shoe and tattered trousers; and half an hour before sunset he hobbled up to the place.
It was all bustle. Travellers at the door; their wagons and carts under a long shed.