"Well, Tom," returned his father, "that’s what I’ve been puzzling my head over for a long time past. If we go out by a Portuguese port we shall have to show our gold; there will be all sorts of inquiries; and very possibly the authorities may try and lay claim to the whole of our findings. Not only do I think this possible, but much more than probable. That would be a pretty ending to all our adventures, dangers, and hard work." "Uncle," exclaimed Guy, "we’ll never yield a red cent of this gold to any Portuguese in the world! These filibusters of Boers have had a shot for us and our treasure. It isn’t likely that we shall cart our nuggets to Mossamedes, and calmly allow these Portuguese, who, as you have shown us, have misgoverned their country so shamefully for three or four hundred years, to rob us in that way. Besides, it’s much more than doubtful whether we are in Portuguese territory here at all." "Quite so, Guy," replied Mr. Blakeney. "I’m entirely with you. For several days past I have been turning the whole thing over in my mind. I am honestly certain, from Poeskop’s information, that we have discovered and won this gold in neutral ground--in land belonging to no man. That being so, we’re not going to allow the Portuguese authorities even a royalty on our find. To avoid any disturbance with them we shall have to make a long and troublesome trek right across country to Bechuanaland. This will take us several months. It’s a nasty business. We shall have to go through feverish veldt, and the rains will be upon us. Still, it’s the only thing to be done, and we shall have to do it. What do you lads say? Are you prepared for further difficulties?" "Of course we are, pater," broke in Tom. "Anything is better than meekly handing over our hard-won gold to the Portuguese Government. Guy, what do you say?" he added, turning to his cousin. "Why, I’m entirely with you, Tom," returned Guy. "I say trek south and east, by all means, for Bechuanaland." "Carried _nem. con._," said Tom cheerfully. "Pater, we’ll travel by the overland route. What do you make out our course to be? I confess I’m rather vague. I suppose we’ll have to pass Lake Ngami, cross the Kalahari thirst-land, and go down through Khama’s Country and the Protectorate." "That’s just what we shall have to do, lads," said Mr. Blakeney. "Once at Lake Ngami, we shall manage very well, although the ’thirst’ is a bad one after you leave the Lake River, before reaching Khama’s chief town, Palachwe. But the main difficulties lie between here and Lake Ngami. We shall have to find our way down to the Okavango, cross that river somewhere--by no means a simple operation with a heavily-loaded wagon--and trek for the lake. I confess I don’t like the look of the first part of the journey. It’s almost unknown country, and bound to give us a lot of trouble."