Before the machine-like system of modern industry had combined ownership and seized the vast natural reservoirs which hold the diamonds of Africa, and brought the output to a known average yield of so many carats to so many loads, and established the cost of mining, washing, shipping and marketing, separately or together, to the fraction of a penny, there was a fascination in the hunt for diamonds there, the charm of which drew thousands to the fields. From the discovery of them as baubles in the hands of children and the Hottentots, or plastered in the mud walls of Boer farm-houses through the search for them along the Vaal River, to the time where findings led men to the kopjes, which capped the great chimneys of diamond bearing clay, where they staked and worked their individual claims, the ever present hope of finding a royal gem among the small stones which formed the every-day yield, gave edge to appetite and the spur to toil, and the stories of fortunes diverted from one man to another by the lapse of a few minutes at the beginning or expiration of a lease, or by the line separating the mining rights of one from another, read like fairy tales. More exciting yet is the search for them when, as in Brazil, they lie scattered over the river beds where one man hunts in vain and another by chance stumbles upon a pocket full, or as in India, where one must dig for them blindly into detrital matter ten or twelve feet under a later covering of earth. Who has not felt the stir of it while reading of miners in Brazil using diamonds worth a king's ransom as counters in their games of chance, or of a naked Hindu, emaciated and diseased carrying about his person, wrapped in a bit of soiled cloth, a gem found by chance which the richest prince of India would covet. So also do the tales of rubies brought from Death's Valley of Burmah renew within us the glow which fired the heart of youth when we read of Aladdin and his lamp.