"Say, now!" he began again, and he seized and hefted the things. "Where have you been picking up these?"
By this time all the party were crowded round, and the monkey scrambled to my shoulder. I told the story of the find.
"Aw," began Ray, "he's just trying to make monkeys of the whole crowd."
They all wanted to fondle the animal, who, scolding, wormed himself out of their hands and scurried up a post to the kitchen roof.
"Now you know I told you, Norris," said Ray, "It would be Wayne that would find it."
"It's all right, Ray," I told him. "I don't mind your giving my name to the monk."
There would be no breakfast till they had seen the place.
"We've got to see how much there is there," declared Norris.
And off we went, the monkey again leading the way, over the little rising, through the curtain of vines, and into the cave. The lights illumined the place, and the sounds of amazement echoed. For there, on the floor, heaped on a tarpaulin, showed bushels of yellow, glinting gold-dust and nuggets. And there were beside it two greater piles of the bamboo cylinders, the one heap already gold-laden, as we found; and the other awaiting the filling. On the ground stood a tin holding pitch, for sealing; and there were small bricks of cork, and pieces of life-jackets, torn open to extract the cork. A ship's lantern stood on a projection of rock.
"I never saw such a pile of the stuff!" spoke Grant Norris, plunging his fist in the yellow mass.