I lost no time in setting about the preparations for this financial venture. It seemed a pity to rob the goddess and her snake of the rugs on which they reclined at various times, in my dug-out, but there was nothing else to do. All the tribe-fellows’ clubs having proved themselves to be serviceable, I had no difficulty in selecting two which I deemed worthy of the great occasion. Old Fatty had resumed his faithful attendance on my every movement and therefore he followed me down to the boat, carrying both of the clubs and the skins. He stood on the bank and watched me embark, more crazy than ever to go along, but still too frightened to trust himself afloat on the lake. I had no wish to have company. Bidding him “be good,” I pushed away and started on the expedition. By the time I had finished the work of fastening the skins together, the afternoon was half gone. There was nothing to do, in the way of work which would occupy my time, and I felt no desire to get into the bear-skin prematurely, as I had done before, so that I was finally obliged to pull in my oars and drift idly on the water. This was a sleepy occupation. I nodded drowsily for half an hour, at the end of which time I fell fast asleep. The sun was just disappearing when at last I awoke. Disgusted with myself, for having thus overdone the time-wasting business, I rowed rapidly for Outlet river, to which I came duly. Standing up in the boat I arrayed myself in my costume; then I worked slowly down the river, as before, and beached the boat in the spot where I had landed on the last successful venture. Already the dusk made the forest gloomy, but as this was precisely what I wanted, I struck off without delay, picking a path cautiously through the growth. The neighbourhood seemed remarkably still, but finally the rumble from the cauldron disturbed the quiet and gave me a guide by which I corrected my course. Laden as I was, with the necessary things for the labour, I should have presented a most amazing aspect, had any of the Blacks discovered my presence. I thought of that, and knew that even if I got down in the normal position of a bear, the juxtaposition of my bag and the clubs might easily arouse the most dangerous suspicions in the brain of any Link beholding them and me. However, nothing happened. “Why this is going to be a pic-nic,” I muttered. “I couldn’t ask for anything nicer.” Indeed fortune seemed to be smiling upon me, for I came immediately upon a continuation of the cliff of rock, which backed the camp of the Blacks, and was soon confronted by a jagged heap of stone and quartz, at the top of which appeared a dark, irregular cave. Before I could clamber up the pile to this opening, the mighty roar came belching forth. I knew I stood on the threshold of the cavern of wealth and wonder. CHAPTER XXXIX STEALING THE ENEMY’S FIRE