I made my way to the spot--familiar enough by this time--and taking once more the bearings by the oil palm and the tree, stuck my knife deep into the moss. After one or two probings I felt the blade strike the buried metal, and looking sharply up and down the river to make sure that there were no observers, cut out a large square slab of moss, and turned it back. The ends of a manilla stuck up through the earth, and passing my fingers through the ring I hooked up the first bunch, weighing about twenty pounds. In less than a minute I had three other bunches out of the hole, and with the four I went off to the house, where I deposited them on the floor. The work of disinterring the gold was not a long one, owing to the convenient way in which the manillas were fastened together; in about an hour I had removed the entire treasure, consisting of fifty-seven bunches, and stacked them in a heap at the farther end of the house. Returning after carrying the last load, I probed the ground in all directions to make sure that I had left none behind, and then kicking the earth back into the hole, flung the slab of moss down on to it. At this moment a loud shout rang out from down the reach, and looking up, I saw a sight at which my heart seemed to stand still. A procession was slowly making its way along the bank towards the island, and the leader, who had already sighted me, was pointing to me, and talking excitedly to his followers. There were ten men, including the leader, all armed with long muskets, and most formidable to look at; while the leader himself was, to me, the most terrifying figure of all, for even at this distance I could see the broad, white bands of his cowrie necklace and amulets, which told me that he was a fetish priest. Almost choking with rage and disappointment, I rushed to the house to arm for the fray, resolved to compel my foes to kill me rather than submit to capture. There lay the heap of gold, a mere mocking illusion, turning to dust and ashes at my touch. There it would presently be found by the fetish-man, while I--Bah! I was too infuriated to pursue the thought. With an oath I snatched up my spear and catapult, and the bag of pebbles that I used when hunting, and rushed out of the house with set teeth, as unpleasant an enemy as any man might desire to meet. I was still wearing my horned wig and kilt--indeed, I had worn them continually since my last encounter, and had become so accustomed to the former, that I ceased to be conscious of it--and murderous as I felt, I was yet determined to make the most of my appearance before resorting to mere carnal weapons. I therefore laid down my spear, as being out of character, and commenced a few preliminary blandishments.