the business, and let me in time get hold of some land near you. I have quite made up my mind, and that's my decision."
"Well, Guy," said his uncle, with a pleased look on his kindly, expressive face, "I'm very glad to hear this. I like you, my boy. I believe you will stick to your business, and not look at it merely as a hobby or a plaything; and I can only say, for my part, that I will do all in my power to help you on. For your father's sake, as well as your own, I shall do this; and I hope in a few years, when you've got experience, you will do very well for yourself. Meanwhile, I've lately had my eye on two farms, hitherto unoccupied, which touch our north-west boundary. They are called Hartebeestfontein and Bushman's Kraal. I can get them cheap. They are the usual six thousand acre farms, and I can buy them from Government for £600 the pair. I shall write to my agent at Vryburg to-morrow to secure these farms, which I shall henceforth take to and stock. I shall hold these at your disposal, either one or both of them; and in two or three years' time, if you like to try and make a start on your own hook, why, we'll put up a decent house for you, open up the water supply-I know on Hartebeestfontein there is a spring, and I believe there are some likely aars [veins] in the limestone, where more water is pretty certain to be found-and stock the place, so that you can make a fair beginning. But we must go slow for a time, and meanwhile you've got to learn your business. Still, I am bound to say that I believe and hope you'll do very well. You are steady, or I am very much mistaken; you have brains; and I know, I can see, that, like your dear father, you will always go straight, which in this life is a good deal more than half the battle."
Chapter IV.
THE GOLD SPOOR
"There is another matter I want to speak to you about, Guy," continued Mr. Blakeney, "which has been perplexing me a good deal. It is this: When your father wrote me the first of the two last letters he sent me before his death, he sent also a short statement, sealed in a packet and marked 'Important.' This statement concerns a very rich discovery of gold in a far-away part of the interior of South-west Africa, somewhere on the border of the Portuguese territory of Benguela. I have worried over this problem for many weeks past, and the conclusion I have come to is that I ought to tell you about the whole business. The shortest and best plan is, I think, to show you your father's letter. Here it is; I'll read it to you: -
"'MY DEAR CHARLIE, – You will see from the letter I have already written you that I am in a very precarious state of health, and that I doubt greatly if I shall get over these repeated attacks of fever. In case anything happens to me, I must unburden my mind on one other matter, which seems to me, though it may not to you, very important. A year ago, as you know, I was making some mineral explorations for copper in the mountains behind Mossamedes, Portuguese West Africa. There was little copper to be found worth speaking of, and this business came to an end. One day towards the finish of this work, a Bushman in my service, named Poeskop, came to me and said he thought he could show me something better than copper; that he had once found gold, and that he would show me the place where he had found it. Poeskop was a Bushman from the country north-east of Ovampoland, in German territory. He had worked for Germans and others, and had afterwards drifted into the service of one of the Trek Boers who came to the Mossamedes country fifteen or sixteen years before. He had been brutally treated by this Boer, and, running away from him, came to me. I treated him kindly, and he became exceedingly attached to me, and would do anything for me. He speaks Boer Dutch and one or two native languages of his own country, besides a smattering of German. Well, I asked Poeskop what he meant, and where was the gold he spoke of. He took from the bottom of a dirty old pouch he always wore a piece of skin sewn up with sinew. Cutting this open, he took out four small nuggets of gold, manifestly water-worn. He said that where they came from there were plenty more-plenty. He had come across the place years before as a lad, and he had discovered what gold was, and its value, when he was working for some German prospectors in Damaraland. He knew now also the worth of gold money in English, and German, and Portuguese. I asked him how long it would take us to reach the place. He said more than a month. I was then under contract for this work at the Gold Coast, and it was impossible to throw it up, or to spare the time-about three months in all, reckoning the return journey to Mossamedes. I told the man I would return, if possible, the following year (1897), or, if not that year, in 1898, in the month of June, which is their healthy season, and go with him to the place. Meanwhile, would he promise not to say a word to any other person? Poeskop replied that he cared for no other white man but me; that he would wait till I came, and would meet me in Mossamedes in June the next year (1897), and the year after, and the year after that; and that each year he would wait for me a month. "But," I said, "supposing I can't come, and wish to send some one else in my place? I may be ill, or dead, or anything may have happened to me." "Well, my baas," replied Poeskop, his little drooping eyes twinkling in the oddest kind of way, "if you can't come, and send any one in your place, let him show me that funny steenje which you wear on your watch-chain, and I shall know he is your man, and will do what he asks me." The steenje, I must tell you, was nothing else than a piece of New Zealand jade, carved rather curiously in the shape of a fish. Well, there's the end of my yarn. I am dead tired, and feeling very ill. The ague is coming on again, as you can see by my handwriting."
"Here," interjected Mr. Blakeney, "as you can see, Guy, your poor father's writing has become very shaky. But he has underscored the remaining lines of his letter, and they run thus: -
"'My dear Charlie, I consider this discovery is very important. Poeskop, who was in my service five months, is a most shrewd and reliable little chap. I know he is not lying. I know he has found a place very rich in gold. Of this I am absolutely confident. If I'm right, there is a fortune for all of us. If I get through this bout of fever I shall ask you to give up your ranching for six months, and come and join me at Mossamedes in June. If I go under-and something tells me I shall-I beg you to go on my behalf. Take with you a good and reliable mining engineer; and if Guy is with you, take him. If you cannot go this year, go next. I can't finish … what I meant to say. This fever is too much for me. You and Guy are to go shares if the gold is right. – From yours ever,
"'J. S. HARDCASTLE.'
"Well now, Guy," added his uncle, "there's the yarn. Look over the letter yourself."
Guy read the letter again, with a serious face, from beginning to end.
"Poor pater!" he said, as he concluded, the tears standing in his eyes; "he was ill indeed when he wrote and underscored these last lines. Oh, that he could have been with us now!"
"Would that he could have been, Guy!" said his uncle feelingly; "would that he could! Having read that letter, you will understand something of my anxiety. If your father's surmises are correct, there is a fortune for us all. And yet any ordinary business man would say the whole thing is a mere wild-goose chase, a will-of-the-wisp. I am bothered awfully; I hardly know what to say, what to do."
Guy Hardcastle sprang to his feet.
"Uncle Charles!" he exclaimed, "I'm certain this is no wild-goose chase! My father had a great knowledge of men and things, especially where natives and mining were concerned. He wasn't a mad enthusiast; in fact, I always looked upon him as a very long-headed and cautious man. I'm only a boy; but that was my impression. Let us go. I'm certain that our search will be a success!"
"Well, Guy," rejoined Mr. Blakeney, smiling at the lad's enthusiasm, "I half believe you are right. Your father was no hunter of wild geese; he was, as you thought him, a man of good judgment and much knowledge. Yet there are many difficulties to be surmounted. I don't like leaving this place just now. Still, there's George Forster to look after matters in my absence-as he did two years ago, when I was in England.
"I might do this," he went on, speaking as if to himself. "Some years ago I trekked across the Kalahari, by way of Lake Ngami, to Damaraland, and traded and brought back a thousand head of cattle. I have sometimes thought of repeating the trip; but it's a tough business, and a long and anxious one.
