“I will give you this for your chain,” he said, “and another as good to-morrow, if you will come now and show us where you find these things.”
The old man at once threw the chain at Reginald’s feet, and seized the scarf delightedly.
“I come quick—dis moment!” he cried. And he was as good as his word.
It was a long walk, and a wild one. Sometimes Reginald carried Matty; sometimes she rode on the great dog. But they arrived at last at the entrance to a gloomy defile, and here in the hillsides were openings innumerable, evidently not made by hands of man. Here, however, was an El Dorado. Caves of gold! for numerous small nuggets were found on the floors and shining in the white walls around them.
It was evident enough that it only needed digging and a little hard work to make a pile from any single one of these caves.
Next about the pearls. The old savage took the party to the riverside. He waded in, and in five minutes had thrown on shore at least a hundred pearl oysters. These, on coming to bank, he opened one by one, and ten large and beautiful white pearls were found, with ever so many half-faced ones.
Strange and wondrous indeed was the story that Reginald Grahame had to relate in private to Mr Hall and Captain Dickson on his return to his home by the sea.
At present the trio kept the secret to themselves. That gold was to be had for the gathering was evident enough. But to share it with six men was another question. It might be better, at all events, if they were first and foremost to make their own pile. Anyhow, the men’s services might be required; in that case they could choose their own claims, unless Reginald claimed the whole ravine. This he was entitled to do, but he was very far indeed from being mean and greedy.
But so intricate was the way to the ravine of gold that without a guide no one could possibly find it.
For six whole weeks no gold digging was thought about. Matters of even greater import occupied the minds of the white men.