But all in vain.
They still spent much of their time in fishing and shooting, however. These were necessary sports. Food they must have.
A rather gloomy time arrived later on, when they had finally abandoned all hopes of finding any buried treasure. Tremendously heavy banks of clouds had rolled up from the horizon and overspread the heavens.
Then with terrible thundering and vivid lightning a short rainy season was ushered in. The stream became flooded, so that fishing was now out of the question.
But Conal's little Lilywhite visited the fort every day, and--though I cannot say where she found them--never came without a fish, while just as often as not she brought the boys a present of delightful fruit.
The rain-clouds were scattered at last, and soon the country all around was greener and more lovely than ever the wanderers had seen it, while the most gorgeous of flowers seemed to spring into existence in the short space of twenty-four hours.
Sport began again once more.
They still paid visits to the king, but these were not so welcome now to his sable majesty, for the goo-goo was all finished, and he cared for little else--with, of course, the exception of human flesh.
Conal was exceedingly well developed, and under certain conditions he would not have objected being reminded of this.
But when the king one day felt his arm and said something which Carrambo translated: "Ah, num-num! you plenty good to eat," Conal hardly relished the verdict.