an old sailor who had been shipwrecked on the South-west African coast, somewhere in the vicinity of Cape Cross, and who had spent many months wandering with the Bushmen who found him, before he eventually worked his way back safely to Walfisch Bay. Here one of the rare whalers, that occasionally called at that little-known spot, eventually picked him up, and he at length got back to Liverpool, with nothing but his tiny packet of little bright stones to show for all his months of hardship among the Bushmen.

The ignorant whalers had laughed at his assertion that the little crystals were of any value; as at that time diamonds were undreamed of in South Africa—for all this was long, long ago.

Chance threw me in the old man's way, and a small service I was able to render him led to his showing me the stones. He had been in Brazil and had seen rough diamonds there; and I too, who had also dug in the fields of Minhas Geraes, saw at once that he was right; they were diamonds.

I had money, but I wanted more; for there was a girl for whom I had sworn to make a fortune, and who in turn had sworn to wait for me, poor girl! She little knew how long that wait would be, or the kind of wreck that would return to her at last. And even as I poured the little glittering cascade of diamonds that old Anderson had found from one hand to the other, my mind was made up.

"Anderson," I said, "come out with me to Africa again, man; we can make ourselves rich men! Of course, there must be more where these came from?"

"More!" said the hard-bitten old seaman, who was as brown and withered as the Bushmen he had lived amongst so long; "More, is it? Why, sir, there's bushels of them in a valley as I knows of out there; so many that I couldn't believe myself that they was diamonds, so I only brought a few! But there they can stay for me. No more Bushmen for me, thank 'ee; they'd put a poisoned arrow through me if ever they saw me again. But if you want to go, well and good; I'll tell you where to find the diamonds!"

And the upshot was that I sailed for the Cape a week later, and a few months afterwards I landed at Walfisch Bay, from whence I intended trekking north in search of the Golconda old Anderson had described to me.

At that time, with the exception of a few traders, hunters, and missionaries near the coast, the country was uninhabited by white men; moreover, it was in a state of turmoil. From the north-east, a powerful Bantu race the Damaras, or Ovaherero as they term themselves had been gradually spreading over the land south and west, and had just come in contact with the Namaquas, a Hottentot race who had come from the south. The result had been a series of bloody native wars, in which neither race could for long claim decided advantage. Meanwhile the aboriginal Bushmen of the country had been almost exterminated, scattered tribes of them only remaining in the most inaccessible parts of the country. It was towards these wild people that my path lay, and the few settlers I met warned me that my trip was likely to be a dangerous one.

"And you have nothing to gain!" they pointed out, "these Bushmen have no cattle, no ivory, nothing! They are but vermin, and a poisoned arrow is all you are likely to get from them." But, secure in my knowledge of the riches awaiting me, I was not to be deterred; and there came a day when my wagon, loaded with a goodly stock of "trade" goods, trekked from the sands of Walfisch Bay towards the then unknown country lying to the north. Rain had fallen and I found the trek by no means as difficult as I had expected, for I had good native guides, and for a time all went well. But gradually the long sandy stretches were left behind, and the country became extremely difficult. On all sides rose vast table-topped mountains with almost perpendicular sides, and the wide valleys between them gradually narrowed till they became nothing but deep, narrow, precipitous gorges, impassable for a wagon. Deep we penetrated into this tangle of mountains, endeavoring in vain to find a way through in the direction I believed the valley to lie, and at length it became evident that to proceed farther with the wagon was out of the question. Here, therefore, in a well-wooded kloof, with an abundance of water, I made my central camp; and from it I proceeded to explore the country farther north. By this time the wild Bushmen, who had hitherto fled at our approach, had gained confidence, and came freely to the camp, and I had guides in plenty. For a time their extraordinary "click" language was utterly beyond my comprehension, but at length I learnt enough of it to make them understand what I wished to find.

But search as I would I could never find the spot—valley after valley they took me to, krantz after krantz, and kloof after kloof, I scrambled through and searched, but all in vain. Mineral wealth I found everywhere, copper and tin in abundance, and in one deep valley rich nuggets of gold, but still the diamonds evaded me. Nor did I ever find them, though I am sure that Anderson's tale was true, and that somewhere in those mountains lie diamonds galore. It may be that they are now buried deep in the sand; for at times the wind blows with incredible force; and in the terrific sandstorms, huge dunes are lifted and swept across the country; and it may well be that the deep valley of his day is now filled to the level of its walls.

Sick and disheartened I determined at last to offer a big reward to any of the guides who should bring in a diamond to me; and calling them all together, I made them understand as much; at the same time showing one of the little diamonds that Anderson had given me. A trade musket, with powder and shot, was to be the reward; and as this was a prize beyond the dreams of these poor Bushmen there was a general exodus from the camp in search of the "bright stones." From their excited exclamations when I showed them the diamond, I gathered that they had all seen such stones, and I cheered myself with the hope that at last I should be rewarded for all my hardships. But, alas! They brought in "bright stones" truly bright stones in abundance but quartz crystals chiefly; bright, clear, and sparkling, but of course utterly valueless; and though I sent them out again and again, they brought nothing in of any value.

Amongst my boys, who had followed me from Walfisch Bay, was one Inyati, who was much attached to me, and who had become a sort of body-servant to me. He was a fine upstanding chap who held himself absolutely aloof from the Griquas and Hottentots that formed the bulk of my paid followers, and to whose oblique eyes, and pepper-corn wool, his expressive orbs and shock of crinkled hair formed an agreeable contrast. As for the Bushmen, Inyati treated them, and looked upon them, absolutely as dogs. He was a good game spoorer, and I had taught him to shoot; and so intelligent was he, that I had taken a great interest in him, and had learnt to talk to him in his own tongue a sonorous, expressive language entirely different to the peculiar "click" of the local natives.

I knew that his dearest wish was to possess a gun of his own, and fully expected that he too would wish to join in the search that might lead to his gaining one; but, though he had examined the stones I had shown far more intently than any of them, he made no effort to leave the camp. Day after day he attended to my simple wants, spending all his spare time in polishing my weapons, a work he absolutely loved, and crooning interminable songs in a low monotone.

One day, when the Bushmen had again trooped off on their fruitless search, I called Inyati; and told him to make certain preparations, as, should they again bring in nothing, I would strike camp and return to Walfisch Bay. And then I asked him, out of curiosity, why he had not tried to earn the gun.

"Master," said he, scraping