The golden pool : $b A story of a forgotten mineFreeman, R. Austin (Richard Austin)
General
The golden pool : $b A story of a forgotten mine
Freeman, R. Austin (Richard Austin)
British -- Africa -- Fiction; Mines and mineral resources -- Fiction
They were mightily excited, for they chattered and gesticulated like a
pack of monkeys, and I would have given a good deal to know what they
were saying. That they had missed Bukári and me I had no doubt, but
whether or not they had traced our progress thus far I had no means of
judging. On one point, however, and that the most important, I soon
became satisfied; they clearly had no knowledge of the existence of
the tunnel by which we had finally escaped.
After a good deal of talk and searching the corners of the chamber and
the entrance to the filled up tunnel, they commenced to examine the
chests, and I was now most thankful that I had not allowed Bukári to
satisfy his curiosity; for I could see an old fetish man, who had been
poring over the lid of the larger chest (which was immediately beneath
me) pointing out to his fellows the undisturbed coating of dust on it.
In spite of this demonstration, however, they were not quite convinced
apparently, for to my intense satisfaction they proceeded to remove
the skulls one by one and place them at a little distance on the
floor. When the top was clear, they knocked a wooden pin out of a rude
hasp--the only fastening that the chest had--and raised the lid,
resting it against the wall.
From my position immediately overhead I could look down straight into
the chest, and the sight that met my gaze when the lid was flung back,
filled me with amazement.
For that great coffer was filled almost to the top with gold. Gold
masks of strange design, gold armlets, gold anklets, great
dumbbell-like sword-hilts, head-plates and trinkets of which I could
not distinguish the forms, were there by the score; but the great bulk
of the metal was in the form of manillas--the African equivalent of
ingots--of which there must have been hundreds, all tied up in bunches
of a dozen or so.
Here, indeed, was “wealth beyond the dreams of avarice”!
As I looked down into the great chest I felt myself unconsciously
gloating over its shining contents; and when the fetish-men,
apparently satisfied of the safety of the treasure, closed the lid and
drove in the pin, I was conscious of quite a chill of regret, until I
suddenly remembered my condition; when I almost laughed aloud at the
absurdity of a naked, starving wretch like myself barely snatched from
the jaws of death, and yet hankering after wealth.
When the priests had made the chest secure they replaced the skulls,
and forthwith retired through the tunnel, having accomplished what was
probably the principal object of their visit. The smaller chest they
had not examined at all, and from this I judged that it contained
nothing of intrinsic value--perhaps merely some mouldering relics of
the old adventurers. When the last of the men had disappeared I drew
myself carefully back on to the more solid ground, and resumed my
journey across the little plateau.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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