LITMIR.BIZ

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to a roaring furnace, and a vast devil, surprisingly like Chang-hi, but with a huge black tail, began to feed him with coals. They burnt his mouth horribly. Another devil was shouting his name: “Evans, Evans, you sleepy fool!”— or was it Hooker?

      He woke up. They were in the mouth of the lagoon.

      “There are the three palm-trees. It must be in a line with that clump of bushes,” said his companion. “Mark that. If we, go to those bushes and then strike into the bush in a straight line from here, we shall come to it when we come to the stream.”

      They could see now where the mouth of the stream opened out. At the sight of it Evans revived. “Hurry up, man,” he said, “or by heaven I shall have to drink sea water!” He gnawed his hand and stared at the gleam of silver among the rocks and green tangle.

      Presently he turned almost fiercely upon Hooker. “Give me the paddle,” he said.

      So they reached the river mouth. A little way up Hooker took some water in the hollow of his hand, tasted it, and spat it out. A little further he tried again. “This will do,” he said, and they began drinking eagerly.

      “Curse this!” said Evans suddenly. “It’s too slow.” And, leaning dangerously over the fore part of the canoe, he began to suck up the water with his lips.

      Presently they made an end of drinking, and, running the canoe into a little creek, were about to land among the thick growth that overhung the water.

      “We shall have to scramble through this to the beach to find our bushes and get the line to the place,” said Evans.

      “We had better paddle round,” said Hooker.

      So they pushed out again into the river and paddled back down it to the sea, and along the shore to the place where the clump of bushes grew. Here they landed, pulled the light canoe far up the beach, and then went up towards the edge of the jungle until they could see the opening of the reef and the bushes in a straight line. Evans had taken a native implement out of the canoe. It was L-shaped, and the transverse piece was armed with polished stone. Hooker carried the paddle. “It is straight now in this direction,” said he; “we must push through this till we strike the stream. Then we must prospect.”

      They pushed through a close tangle of reeds, broad fronds, and young trees, and at first it was toilsome going, but very speedily the trees became larger and the ground beneath them opened out. The blaze of the sunlight was replaced by insensible degrees by cool shadow. The trees became at last vast pillars that rose up to a canopy of greenery far overhead. Dim white flowers hung from their stems, and ropy creepers swung from tree to tree. The shadow deepened. On the ground, blotched fungi and a red-brown incrustation became frequent.

      Evans shivered. “It seems almost cold here after the blaze outside.”

      “I hope we are keeping to the straight,” said Hooker.

      Presently they saw, far ahead, a gap in the sombre darkness where white shafts of hot sunlight smote into the forest. There also was brilliant green undergrowth and coloured flowers. Then they heard the rush of water.

      “Here is the river. We should be close to it now,” said Hooker.

      The vegetation was thick by the river bank. Great plants, as yet unnamed, grew among the roots of the big trees, and spread rosettes of huge green fans towards the strip of sky. Many flowers and a creeper with shiny foliage clung to the exposed stems. On the water of the broad, quiet pool which the treasure-seekers now overlooked there floated big oval leaves and a waxen, pinkish-white flower not unlike a water-lily. Further, as the river bent away from them, the water suddenly frothed and became noisy in a rapid.

      “Well?” said Evans.

      “We have swerved a little from the straight,” said Hooker. “That was to be expected.”

      He turned and looked into the dim cool shadows of the silent forest behind them. “If we beat a little way up and down the stream we should come to something.”

      “You said —” began Evans.

      “He said there was a heap of stones,” said Hooker.

      The two men looked at each other for a moment.

      “Let us try a little down-stream first,” said Evans.

      They advanced slowly, looking curiously about them. Suddenly Evans stopped. “What the devil’s that?” he said.

      Hooker followed his finger. “Something blue,” he said. It had come into view as they topped a gentle swell of the ground. Then he began to distinguish what it was.

      He advanced suddenly with hasty steps, until the body that belonged to the limp hand and arm had become visible. His grip tightened on the implement he carried. The thing was the figure of a Chinaman lying on his face. The abandon of the pose was unmistakable.

      The two men drew closer together, and stood staring silently at this ominous dead body. It lay in a clear space among the trees. Near by was a spade after the Chinese pattern, and further off lay a scattered heap of stones, close to a freshly dug hole.

      “Somebody has been here before,” said Hooker, clearing his throat.

      Then suddenly Evans began to swear and rave, and stamp upon the ground.

      Hooker turned white but said nothing. He advanced towards the prostrate body. He saw the neck was puffed and purple, and the hands and ankles swollen. “Pah!” he said, and suddenly turned away and went towards the excavation. He gave a cry of surprise. He shouted to Evans, who was following him slowly.

      “You fool! It’s all right. It’s here still.” Then he turned again and looked at the dead Chinaman, and then again at the hole.

      Evans hurried to the hole. Already half exposed by the ill-fated wretch beside them lay a number of dull yellow bars. He bent down in the hole, and, clearing off the soil with his bare hands, hastily pulled one of the heavy masses out. As he did so a little thorn pricked his hand. He pulled the delicate spike out with his fingers and lifted the ingot.

      “Only gold or lead could weigh like this,” he said exultantly.

      Hooker was still looking at the dead Chinaman. He was puzzled.

      “He stole a march on his friends,” he said at last. “He came here alone, and some poisonous snake has killed him … I wonder how he found the place.”

      Evans stood with the ingot in his hands. What did a dead Chinaman signify? “We shall have to take this stuff to the mainland piecemeal, and bury it there for a while. How shall we get it to the canoe?”

      He took his jacket off and spread it on the ground, and flung two or three ingots into it. Presently he found that another little thorn had punctured his skin.

      “This is as much as we can carry,” said he. Then suddenly, with a queer rush of irritation, “What are you staring at?”

      Hooker turned to him. “I can’t stand him … ” He nodded towards the corpse. “It’s so like ——”

      “Rubbish!” said Evans. “All Chinamen are alike.”

      Hooker looked into his face. “I’m going to bury that, anyhow, before I lend a hand with this stuff.”

      “Don’t be a fool, Hooker,” said Evans, “Let that mass of corruption bide.”

      Hooker hesitated, and then his eye went carefully over the brown soil about them. “It scares me somehow,” he said.

      “The thing is,” said Evans, “what to do with these ingots. Shall we re-bury them over here, or take them across the strait in the canoe?”

      Hooker thought. His puzzled gaze wandered among the tall tree-trunks, and up into the remote sunlit greenery overhead. He shivered again as his eye rested upon the blue figure of the Chinaman. He stared searchingly among the grey depths between the trees.

      “What’s come

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