Before I realized where we were we had rounded the hill, and were looking down on the green cup of the upper Machudi’s glen. Far down, I remember, where the trees began, there was a cloud of smoke. Some Kaffir—or maybe Arcoll—had fired the forest. The smoke was drifting away under a light west wind over the far plains, so that they were seen through a haze of opal. Laputa bade me take the lead. I saw quite clear the red kloof on the far side, where the collar was hid. To get there we might have ridden straight into the cup, but a providential instinct made me circle round the top till we were on the lip of the ravine. This was the road some of Machudi’s men had taken, and unthinkingly I followed them. Twenty minutes’ riding brought us to the place, and all the while I had no kind of plan of escape. I was in the hands of my Maker, watching, like the Jews of old, for a sign. Laputa dismounted and looked down into the gorge. “There is no road there,” I said. “We must go down to the foot and come up the stream-side. It would be better to leave your horse here.” He started down the cliff, which from above looks a sheer precipice. Then he seemed to agree with me, took the rope from the _schimmel_’s neck, and knee-haltered his beast. And at that moment I had an inspiration. With my wrist-rope in his hand, he preceded me down the hill till we got to the red screes at the foot of the kloof. Then, under my guidance, we turned up into the darkness of the gorge. As we entered I looked back, and saw figures coming over the edge of the green cup—Laputa’s men, I guessed. What I had to do must be done quickly. We climbed up the burn, over the succession of little cataracts, till we came to the flat space of shingle and the long pool where I had been taken that morning. The ashes of the fire which Machudi’s men had made were plain on the rock. After that I had to climb a waterfall to get to the rocky pool where I had bestowed the rubies. “You must take off this thong,” I said. “I must climb to get the collar. Cover me with a pistol if you like. I won’t be out of sight.” Laputa undid the thong and set me free. From his belt he took a pistol, cocked it, and held it over his left hand. I had seen this way of shooting adopted by indifferent shots, and it gave me a wild hope that he might not be much of a marksman. It did not take me long to find the pool, close against the blackened stump of a tree-fern. I thrust in my hand and gathered up the jewels from the cool sand. They came out glowing like living fires, and for a moment I thrilled with a sense of reverence. Surely these were no common stones which held in them the very heart of hell. Clutching them tightly, I climbed down to Laputa.