“I thought you were after a diamond?”

“You ain’t got any more thinking machine than a biled rabbit, Sam Topper. That bull elephant were the diamon’ mine, in course.”

“How was that?”

“Ain’t I tole you? Why, when Harkins made that mistake and fired off that diamon’ it went plump into the ole bull. I seed that as soon’s Sam Dale told me the yarn, and we started after that property of ourn. That was forty-five year ago, and I guess from the size of his right tusk, the left been broken off, he were then about one hundred years old. I tell you what, chaps, that diamon’s still knocking aroun’ in the Addo bush.”

“The company didn’t come into possession, then?” said Mr Strong.

“Well, do I look as if I had a fortune of one hundred and fifty thousand golding sovereigns, which we reckoned was the value of that stone? Not much! No, sir.”

“Well, did you ever see the diamond?”

“I’ll tell you. Sam and me we struck the spoor at Euphorby, follered it fifteen miles in an’ out of the Kowie bush, away over to the Kasouga, and ten miles to the Kareiga—in an’ out of the thickest bush—sleepin’ out o’ nights. Back ag’in to the Kowie bush, over into the Fish River, without settin’ eyes once on the blanged thing. One month we were on the spoor, and the food run out, so’s we’d got to raise more capital, which we riz by selling Sam’s plough and my harrow—the two of ’em bringing in twenty-five shillings. Then we ran ag’inst the mine after Sam had taken a horn o’ Cango—and his ribs were broken in. Yes, the fust thing we knowed one night thet bull charged us out of a patch of bush in the open. Well, I took Sam to a farmhouse, and picked up the spoor, and two nights after came on the bull standin’ in a vley on the flats over yonder. My! He were jes’ standing there shooting the water over his mountain-high body, with his big ears flapping, when he turned his head, and I seed that diamon’ shinin’ in his forehead like a blood-red star. I tell you that mine lit out a yell and came arter me like a rock hurled from the hilltop. The land was as flat as the palm of your hand, and the only thing was ter double. Well, I did that, and slipped into the vley, and the ole bull, arter ramping around, stood there on the brink listenin’, while his trunk went twistin’ about to catch my wind. He kep’ me there till the cold got into my bones, and then, when the dawn was breaking, off he made for the Kareiga again. Arter that Sam and me we called in fresh capital, an’ Jerry Wittal joined us with a piebald mare and twenty-five sheep. Part o’ the money was paid to mend Sam’s ribs, and then we went arter the ole bull ag’in. This time he went west, through the Addo and on to the Knysna. Six months we kep’ on arter him, sometimes he came arter us; and at last he smashed up the company one morning by takin’ us as we slep’. Yes, sir. That crittur, he waited till the cold of the mornin’, when we couldn’t see for the sleep, and he pounded Jerry into the groun’. He did that, and ef he hadn’t a screamed in his joy he might a done for us; but Sam and me, we dodged roun’ a tree an’ blazed inter him. Sam right there said the company must go inter liquidation, an’ he worked his way back home as a handy-man from farm to farm. Poor Sam! His nerves went, and in less than a year he was dead, sure enuf. Of course all this huntin’ got about, and a chap from Port Elizabeth said he would help me refloat the company; but when I giv’ him all the facts blow me if he didn’t try to ‘jump’ the claim.”

“How was that?”

“Why, he went off on the hunt with a couple o’ niggers, and afore I knowed about it he’d been out three days in the bush. It makes me laugh now. Wha’ yer think? I came across him without his gun, or his hat, or his kit, making tracks for home. He found the bull sure enough, but the bull chased him up a yellow-wood tree and kep’ him there one day and a night.”