"A pebble, of course," answered our hero. "Pete said he saw several others of the same kind where he found this one."
"And where did Pete find the stone?" queried the trooper.
"In a donga about a couple of miles from here, just over the kopje," answered Jack.
"I'll tell you something later on," said Morton,—"a thing that will probably astonish you."
Jack Lovat's eyes opened rather wider than usual as he asked, "Is the pebble a diamond?"
"A genuine stone, my lad, and just as good in quality as the Kohinoor. If you can lay your fingers on a dozen more such stones, you can give up ostrich farming and go back to the old country."
"If you are staying here any length of time, perhaps you will go with me to the donga. Pete knows the spot to a nicety," said Jack.
"We'll see," remarked the trooper. "I must look up the major and learn his plans. I should like nothing better than to pay a visit to this wonderful donga. You will excuse me now;" and he strode off towards his troopers, who were engaged in rubbing down their horses.
A hardier lot of warriors than the men of C Troop Auckland Rangers, it would be difficult to find or even imagine. Their ages ranged from twenty to forty, every man of them standing six feet and over. Maoriland indeed had sent its best sons to do battle for the empire, the centre of which is the little sea-girt isle whose ensign is the Union Jack.
The New Zealanders were right royally treated by the owner of the Kopje Farm, and Major Salkeld determined to remain until evening, when the horses would be up-saddled and preparations made for the march to Springbokfontein.