feat_summary_path: finished_summaries/gradesaver/King Solomon's Mines/section_0_part_2.txt
feat_book_id: King Solomon's Mines.chapter 2
feat_summary_id: chapter 2
feat_summary: {"name": "Chapter 2", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20200804024551/https://www.gradesaver.com/king-solomons-mines/study-guide/summary-chapters-1-and-2", "summary": "Sir Henry Curtis asks Quatermain what he knows of Neville. Quatermain states that he had heard Neville was heading off to find King Solomon's mines. Astonished at this knowledge, Sir Henry and Captain Good ask Quatermain what he has heard about King Solomon's mines. Quatermain relates the story of another elephant hunter, Evans, who told Quatermain the legend of the diamond mines. Evan had gained the information from natives of the Transvaal, including a witch-doctor, Isanusi, who connected the Suliman Mountains to Solomon's mines. Suliman\" is assumed to be a corruption of \"Solomon,\" but is noted by the editor to be the Arabic form of the name. Twenty years later, Quatermain was laid low by a fever when he met another traveler, Jose Silvestre, who speaks briefly with Quatermain and bids him farewell, stating, \"If we ever meet again, I shall be the richest man in the world, and I shall remember you. A week later, having recovered from his fever, Quatermain is hunting with his companions when they come across a man nearly dead from exposure to the elements. This is none other than Jose Silvestre, whom Quatermain and his men nurse back to a modicum of health. Knowing he will die soon, Silvestre bequeaths his link to King Solomon's mines, a document written by his ancestor, Jose da Silvestra, detailing in obscure terms the location of the fabled mines. Captain Good and Sir Henry are astonished at Quatermain's story, and the latter takes their amazement as disbelief and nearly quits their company. The two men assure Quatermain that they believe his story. In fact, upon learning of Quatermain's acquaintance with both the legend and the man, Sir Henry seeks Quatermain's assistance in locating his brother, who had gone off in a quest to find the diamond mines. He is so concerned for his brother's welfare that he offers to split the diamonds of King Solomon's mines equally between Quatermain and Captain Good, as all he desires is the safety of his only brother", "analysis": "Allan Quatermain presents himself as a man of experience, \"fifty-five last birthday,\" who has only now begun an attempt at writing down his personal history.  Haggard thereby establishes Quatermain as the first-person narrator, but one who is uncouth with the pen.  In contrast to the prevalent novels of the time, Haggard's narrator is unschooled: \"At an age when other boys are at school, I was earning my living as a trader in the old Colony\" .  This fact signals the reader that the tale which follows will not be a drawing-room romance, but the account of a man's own wild adventures.  Haggard himself had lived in South Africa, and it is his detail concerning the setting which lends more credence to Quatermain's account.  The \"untutored narrator\" is also a convention that allows Haggard to make mistakes in his rush to write  while blaming any stylistic errors on the narrator's unlettered past.  At times throughout the narrative, and especially here in the first chapter, Quatermain rambles and meanders off-topic briefly in his account, lending a more friendly tone to the narrative than could be found in many of the novels of manners available to readers of the time. In addition, Quatermain mentions the only two literary works he has spent any time reading, the Ingoldsby Legends and the Old Testament, thereby foreshadowing both his frequent allusions to both works, and his own adventures in a world lost to a distant past. Sir Henry Curtis and Captain Good are also introduced in this first chapter.  Sir Henry at first seems familiar to Quatermain, a fact borne out by Quatermain's earlier acquaintance with Sir Henry's brother.  Sir Henry is described in heroic terms by Quatermain as \"one of the biggest-chested and longest-armed men I eve saw\" .  He goes on to say that Sir Henry \"reminded me of an ancient Dane\" .  Captain Good is also described in glowing terms, but is set up as a foil for Quatermain.  Whereas Quatermain is a rough product of the hunting and trading life, Good is a \"gentleman,\" a Royal Navy officer.  To Quatermain, Naval officers are of a higher caliber than ordinary men, and Good is a proper officer.  Good's fastidiousness, which will play a larger  part in their later adventures, is hinted at by Quatermain: \"He was so very neat and so very clean shaved, and he always wore an eye-glass in his right eye\" . In telling the legend of King Solomon's diamond mines, Haggard makes several uses of creative verisimilitude to firmly entrench the reader in the reality of this amazing tale.  Quatermain tells the legend of the Mines rather than Good or Sir Henry, thus leading the reader into an automatic acceptance of the tale. Quatermain recounts the tale as he has heard it from others, lending a sense of history to the account, while various editorial details support the reality of the story, such as a Spanish-language \"original\" of Jose da Silvestra's letter and the footnote that \"Suliman\" is Arabic for \"Solomon.\" Sir Henry Curtis and Captain Good offer Quatermain the traditional \"call to adventure\" of many heroic quest stories.  Curtis draws out of Quatermain his acquaintance with Neville, Curtis' brother, and the desperate plight the older brother must be in.  Good evokes Quatermain's sense of honor and adventure in focusing on the need to rescue a fellow man  or aid a fellow man , but also by bringing the riches of King Solomon's Mines to the fore.  Quatermain, in true heroic tradition, is reluctant to join the quest immediately, but sets some conditions evocative of Odysseus  before he will consider the matter."}
text: "What was it that you heard about my brother's journey at Bamangwato?"
  asked Sir Henry, as I paused to fill my pipe before replying to Captain
  Good.
  
  "I heard this," I answered, "and I have never mentioned it to a soul
  till to-day. I heard that he was starting for Solomon's Mines."
  
  "Solomon's Mines?" ejaculated both my hearers at once. "Where are they?"
  
  "I don't know," I said; "I know where they are said to be. Once I saw
  the peaks of the mountains that border them, but there were a hundred
  and thirty miles of desert between me and them, and I am not aware that
  any white man ever got across it save one. But perhaps the best thing I
  can do is to tell you the legend of Solomon's Mines as I know it, you
  passing your word not to reveal anything I tell you without my
  permission. Do you agree to that? I have my reasons for asking."
  
  Sir Henry nodded, and Captain Good replied, "Certainly, certainly."
  
  "Well," I began, "as you may guess, generally speaking, elephant
  hunters are a rough set of men, who do not trouble themselves with much
  beyond the facts of life and the ways of Kafirs. But here and there you
  meet a man who takes the trouble to collect traditions from the
  natives, and tries to make out a little piece of the history of this
  dark land. It was such a man as this who first told me the legend of
  Solomon's Mines, now a matter of nearly thirty years ago. That was when
  I was on my first elephant hunt in the Matabele country. His name was
  Evans, and he was killed the following year, poor fellow, by a wounded
  buffalo, and lies buried near the Zambesi Falls. I was telling Evans
  one night, I remember, of some wonderful workings I had found whilst
  hunting koodoo and eland in what is now the Lydenburg district of the
  Transvaal. I see they have come across these workings again lately in
  prospecting for gold, but I knew of them years ago. There is a great
  wide wagon road cut out of the solid rock, and leading to the mouth of
  the working or gallery. Inside the mouth of this gallery are stacks of
  gold quartz piled up ready for roasting, which shows that the workers,
  whoever they were, must have left in a hurry. Also, about twenty paces
  in, the gallery is built across, and a beautiful bit of masonry it is."
  
  "'Ay,' said Evans, 'but I will spin you a queerer yarn than that'; and
  he went on to tell me how he had found in the far interior a ruined
  city, which he believed to be the Ophir of the Bible, and, by the way,
  other more learned men have said the same long since poor Evans's time.
  I was, I remember, listening open-eared to all these wonders, for I was
  young at the time, and this story of an ancient civilisation and of the
  treasures which those old Jewish or Phoenician adventurers used to
  extract from a country long since lapsed into the darkest barbarism
  took a great hold upon my imagination, when suddenly he said to me,
  'Lad, did you ever hear of the Suliman Mountains up to the north-west
  of the Mushakulumbwe country?' I told him I never had. 'Ah, well,' he
  said, 'that is where Solomon really had his mines, his diamond mines, I
  mean.'
  
  "'How do you know that?' I asked.
  
  "'Know it! why, what is "Suliman" but a corruption of Solomon?[1]
  Besides, an old Isanusi or witch doctoress up in the Manica country
  told me all about it. She said that the people who lived across those
  mountains were a "branch" of the Zulus, speaking a dialect of Zulu, but
  finer and bigger men even; that there lived among them great wizards,
  who had learnt their art from white men when "all the world was dark,"
  and who had the secret of a wonderful mine of "bright stones."'
  
  "Well, I laughed at this story at the time, though it interested me,
  for the Diamond Fields were not discovered then, but poor Evans went
  off and was killed, and for twenty years I never thought any more of
  the matter. However, just twenty years afterwards--and that is a long
  time, gentlemen; an elephant hunter does not often live for twenty
  years at his business--I heard something more definite about Suliman's
  Mountains and the country which lies beyond them. I was up beyond the
  Manica country, at a place called Sitanda's Kraal, and a miserable
  place it was, for a man could get nothing to eat, and there was but
  little game about. I had an attack of fever, and was in a bad way
  generally, when one day a Portugee arrived with a single companion--a
  half-breed. Now I know your low-class Delagoa Portugee well. There is
  no greater devil unhung in a general way, battening as he does upon
  human agony and flesh in the shape of slaves. But this was quite a
  different type of man to the mean fellows whom I had been accustomed to
  meet; indeed, in appearance he reminded me more of the polite doms I
  have read about, for he was tall and thin, with large dark eyes and
  curling grey mustachios. We talked together for a while, for he could
  speak broken English, and I understood a little Portugee, and he told
  me that his name was Jose Silvestre, and that he had a place near
  Delagoa Bay. When he went on next day with his half-breed companion, he
  said 'Good-bye,' taking off his hat quite in the old style.
  
  "'Good-bye, senor,' he said; 'if ever we meet again I shall be the
  richest man in the world, and I will remember you.' I laughed a
  little--I was too weak to laugh much--and watched him strike out for
  the great desert to the west, wondering if he was mad, or what he
  thought he was going to find there.
  
  "A week passed, and I got the better of my fever. One evening I was
  sitting on the ground in front of the little tent I had with me,
  chewing the last leg of a miserable fowl I had bought from a native for
  a bit of cloth worth twenty fowls, and staring at the hot red sun
  sinking down over the desert, when suddenly I saw a figure, apparently
  that of a European, for it wore a coat, on the slope of the rising
  ground opposite to me, about three hundred yards away. The figure crept
  along on its hands and knees, then it got up and staggered forward a
  few yards on its legs, only to fall and crawl again. Seeing that it
  must be somebody in distress, I sent one of my hunters to help him, and
  presently he arrived, and who do you suppose it turned out to be?"
  
  "Jose Silvestre, of course," said Captain Good.
  
  "Yes, Jose Silvestre, or rather his skeleton and a little skin. His
  face was a bright yellow with bilious fever, and his large dark eyes
  stood nearly out of his head, for all the flesh had gone. There was
  nothing but yellow parchment-like skin, white hair, and the gaunt bones
  sticking up beneath.
  
  "'Water! for the sake of Christ, water!' he moaned and I saw that his
  lips were cracked, and his tongue, which protruded between them, was
  swollen and blackish.
  
  "I gave him water with a little milk in it, and he drank it in great
  gulps, two quarts or so, without stopping. I would not let him have any
  more. Then the fever took him again, and he fell down and began to rave
  about Suliman's Mountains, and the diamonds, and the desert. I carried
  him into the tent and did what I could for him, which was little
  enough; but I saw how it must end. About eleven o'clock he grew
  quieter, and I lay down for a little rest and went to sleep. At dawn I
  woke again, and in the half light saw Silvestre sitting up, a strange,
  gaunt form, and gazing out towards the desert. Presently the first ray
  of the sun shot right across the wide plain before us till it reached
  the faraway crest of one of the tallest of the Suliman Mountains more
  than a hundred miles away.
  
  "'There it is!' cried the dying man in Portuguese, and pointing with
  his long, thin arm, 'but I shall never reach it, never. No one will
  ever reach it!'
  
  "Suddenly, he paused, and seemed to take a resolution. 'Friend,' he
  said, turning towards me, 'are you there? My eyes grow dark.'
  
  "'Yes,' I said; 'yes, lie down now, and rest.'
  
  "'Ay,' he answered, 'I shall rest soon, I have time to rest--all
  eternity. Listen, I am dying! You have been good to me. I will give you
  the writing. Perhaps you will get there if you can live to pass the
  desert, which has killed my poor servant and me.'
  
  "Then he groped in his shirt and brought out what I thought was a Boer
  tobacco pouch made of the skin of the Swart-vet-pens or sable antelope.
  It was fastened with a little strip of hide, what we call a rimpi, and
  this he tried to loose, but could not. He handed it to me. 'Untie it,'
  he said. I did so, and extracted a bit of torn yellow linen on which
  something was written in rusty letters. Inside this rag was a paper.
  
  "Then he went on feebly, for he was growing weak: 'The paper has all
  that is on the linen. It took me years to read. Listen: my ancestor, a
  political refugee from Lisbon, and one of the first Portuguese who
  landed on these shores, wrote that when he was dying on those mountains
  which no white foot ever pressed before or since. His name was Jose da
  Silvestra, and he lived three hundred years ago. His slave, who waited
  for him on this side of the mountains, found him dead, and brought the
  writing home to Delagoa. It has been in the family ever since, but none
  have cared to read it, till at last I did. And I have lost my life over
  it, but another may succeed, and become the richest man in the
  world--the richest man in the world. Only give it to no one, senor; go
  yourself!'
  
  "Then he began to wander again, and in an hour it was all over.
  
  "God rest him! he died very quietly, and I buried him deep, with big
  boulders on his breast; so I do not think that the jackals can have dug
  him up. And then I came away."
  
  "Ay, but the document?" said Sir Henry, in a tone of deep interest.
  
  "Yes, the document; what was in it?" added the captain.
  
  "Well, gentlemen, if you like I will tell you. I have never showed it
  to anybody yet except to a drunken old Portuguese trader who translated
  it for me, and had forgotten all about it by the next morning. The
  original rag is at my home in Durban, together with poor Dom Jose's
  translation, but I have the English rendering in my pocket-book, and a
  facsimile of the map, if it can be called a map. Here it is."
  
  [Illustration: MAP]
  
    "I, Jose da Silvestra, who am now dying of hunger in the little
    cave where no snow is on the north side of the nipple of the
    southernmost of the two mountains I have named Sheba's Breasts,
    write this in the year 1590 with a cleft bone upon a remnant of my
    raiment, my blood being the ink. If my slave should find it when
    he comes, and should bring it to Delagoa, let my friend (name
    illegible) bring the matter to the knowledge of the king, that he
    may send an army which, if they live through the desert and the
    mountains, and can overcome the brave Kukuanes and their devilish
    arts, to which end many priests should be brought, will make him
    the richest king since Solomon. With my own eyes I have seen the
    countless diamonds stored in Solomon's treasure chamber behind the
    white Death; but through the treachery of Gagool the witch-finder
    I might bring nought away, scarcely my life. Let him who comes
    follow the map, and climb the snow of Sheba's left breast till he
    reaches the nipple, on the north side of which is the great road
    Solomon made, from whence three days' journey to the King's
    Palace. Let him kill Gagool. Pray for my soul. Farewell.
  
  Jose da Silvestra."[2]
  
  
  When I had finished reading the above, and shown the copy of the map,
  drawn by the dying hand of the old Dom with his blood for ink, there
  followed a silence of astonishment.
  
  "Well," said Captain Good, "I have been round the world twice, and put
  in at most ports, but may I be hung for a mutineer if ever I heard a
  yarn like this out of a story book, or in it either, for the matter of
  that."
  
  "It's a queer tale, Mr. Quatermain," said Sir Henry. "I suppose you are
  not hoaxing us? It is, I know, sometimes thought allowable to take in a
  greenhorn."
  
  "If you think that, Sir Henry," I said, much put out, and pocketing my
  paper--for I do not like to be thought one of those silly fellows who
  consider it witty to tell lies, and who are for ever boasting to
  newcomers of extraordinary hunting adventures which never happened--"if
  you think that, why, there is an end to the matter," and I rose to go.
  
  Sir Henry laid his large hand upon my shoulder. "Sit down, Mr.
  Quatermain," he said, "I beg your pardon; I see very well you do not
  wish to deceive us, but the story sounded so strange that I could
  hardly believe it."
  
  "You shall see the original map and writing when we reach Durban," I
  answered, somewhat mollified, for really when I came to consider the
  question it was scarcely wonderful that he should doubt my good faith.
  
  "But," I went on, "I have not told you about your brother. I knew the
  man Jim who was with him. He was a Bechuana by birth, a good hunter,
  and for a native a very clever man. That morning on which Mr. Neville
  was starting I saw Jim standing by my wagon and cutting up tobacco on
  the disselboom.
  
  "'Jim,' said I, 'where are you off to this trip? It is elephants?'
  
  "'No, Baas,' he answered, 'we are after something worth much more than
  ivory.'
  
  "'And what might that be?' I said, for I was curious. 'Is it gold?'
  
  "'No, Baas, something worth more than gold,' and he grinned.
  
  "I asked no more questions, for I did not like to lower my dignity by
  seeming inquisitive, but I was puzzled. Presently Jim finished cutting
  his tobacco.
  
  "'Baas,' said he.
  
  "I took no notice.
  
  "'Baas,' said he again.
  
  "'Eh, boy, what is it?' I asked.
  
  "'Baas, we are going after diamonds.'
  
  "'Diamonds! why, then, you are steering in the wrong direction; you
  should head for the Fields.'
  
  "'Baas, have you ever heard of Suliman's Berg?'--that is, Solomon's
  Mountains, Sir Henry.
  
  "'Ay!'
  
  "'Have you ever heard of the diamonds there?'
  
  "'I have heard a foolish story, Jim.'
  
  "'It is no story, Baas. Once I knew a woman who came from there, and
  reached Natal with her child, she told me:--she is dead now.'
  
  "'Your master will feed the assvoegels'--that is, vultures--'Jim, if he
  tries to reach Suliman's country, and so will you if they can get any
  pickings off your worthless old carcass,' said I.
  
  "He grinned. 'Mayhap, Baas. Man must die; I'd rather like to try a new
  country myself; the elephants are getting worked out about here.'
  
  "'Ah! my boy,' I said, 'you wait till the "pale old man" gets a grip of
  your yellow throat, and then we shall hear what sort of a tune you
  sing.'
  
  "Half an hour after that I saw Neville's wagon move off. Presently Jim
  came back running. 'Good-bye, Baas,' he said. 'I didn't like to start
  without bidding you good-bye, for I daresay you are right, and that we
  shall never trek south again.'
  
  "'Is your master really going to Suliman's Berg, Jim, or are you lying?'
  
  "'No,' he answered, 'he is going. He told me he was bound to make his
  fortune somehow, or try to; so he might as well have a fling for the
  diamonds.'
  
  "'Oh!' I said; 'wait a bit, Jim; will you take a note to your master,
  Jim, and promise not to give it to him till you reach Inyati?' which
  was some hundred miles off.
  
  "'Yes, Baas.'
  
  "So I took a scrap of paper, and wrote on it, 'Let him who comes . . .
  climb the snow of Sheba's left breast, till he reaches the nipple, on
  the north side of which is Solomon's great road.'
  
  "'Now, Jim,' I said, 'when you give this to your master, tell him he
  had better follow the advice on it implicitly. You are not to give it
  to him now, because I don't want him back asking me questions which I
  won't answer. Now be off, you idle fellow, the wagon is nearly out of
  sight.'
  
  "Jim took the note and went, and that is all I know about your brother,
  Sir Henry; but I am much afraid--"
  
  "Mr. Quatermain," said Sir Henry, "I am going to look for my brother; I
  am going to trace him to Suliman's Mountains, and over them if
  necessary, till I find him, or until I know that he is dead. Will you
  come with me?"
  
  I am, as I think I have said, a cautious man, indeed a timid one, and
  this suggestion frightened me. It seemed to me that to undertake such a
  journey would be to go to certain death, and putting other
  considerations aside, as I had a son to support, I could not afford to
  die just then.
  
  "No, thank you, Sir Henry, I think I had rather not," I answered. "I am
  too old for wild-goose chases of that sort, and we should only end up
  like my poor friend Silvestre. I have a son dependent on me, so I
  cannot afford to risk my life foolishly."
  
  Both Sir Henry and Captain Good looked very disappointed.
  
  "Mr. Quatermain," said the former, "I am well off, and I am bent upon
  this business. You may put the remuneration for your services at
  whatever figure you like in reason, and it shall be paid over to you
  before we start. Moreover, I will arrange in the event of anything
  untoward happening to us or to you, that your son shall be suitably
  provided for. You will see from this offer how necessary I think your
  presence. Also if by chance we should reach this place, and find
  diamonds, they shall belong to you and Good equally. I do not want
  them. But of course that promise is worth nothing at all, though the
  same thing would apply to any ivory we might get. You may pretty well
  make your own terms with me, Mr. Quatermain; and of course I shall pay
  all expenses."
  
  "Sir Henry," said I, "this is the most liberal proposal I ever had, and
  one not to be sneezed at by a poor hunter and trader. But the job is
  the biggest I have come across, and I must take time to think it over.
  I will give you my answer before we get to Durban."
  
  "Very good," answered Sir Henry.
  
  Then I said good-night and turned in, and dreamt about poor long-dead
  Silvestre and the diamonds.
  
  
  [1] Suliman is the Arabic form of Solomon.--Editor.
  
  [2] Eu Jose da Silvestra que estou morrendo de fome na pequena cova
      onde nao ha neve ao lado norte do bico mais ao sul das duas
      montanhas que chamei scio de Sheba; escrevo isto no anno 1590;
      escrevo isto com um pedaco d'osso n' um farrapo de minha roupa e
      com sangue meu por tinta; se o meu escravo der com isto quando
      venha ao levar para Lourenzo Marquez, que o meu amigo ---------
      leve a cousa ao conhecimento d' El Rei, para que possa mandar um
      exercito que, se desfiler pelo deserto e pelas montonhas e mesmo
      sobrepujar os bravos Kukuanes e suas artes diabolicas, pelo que se
      deviam trazer muitos padres Far o Rei mais rico depois de Salomao
      Com meus proprios olhos ve os di amantes sem conto guardados nas
      camaras do thesouro de Salomao a traz da morte branca, mas pela
      traicao de Gagoal a feiticeira achadora, nada poderia levar, e
      apenas a minha vida. Quem vier siga o mappa e trepe pela neve de
      Sheba peito a esquerda ate chegar ao bica, do lado norte do qual
      esta a grande estrada do Solomao por elle feita, donde ha tres
      dias de jornada ate ao Palacio do Rei. Mate Gagoal. Reze por minha
      alma. Adeos.                                Jose da Silvestra.
  
  
  
feat_summary_name: Chapter 2
target: Sir Henry Curtis asks Quatermain what he knows of Neville. Quatermain states that he had heard Neville was heading off to find King Solomon's mines. Astonished at this knowledge, Sir Henry and Captain Good ask Quatermain what he has heard about King Solomon's mines. Quatermain relates the story of another elephant hunter, Evans, who told Quatermain the legend of the diamond mines. Evan had gained the information from natives of the Transvaal, including a witch-doctor, Isanusi, who connected the Suliman Mountains to Solomon's mines. Suliman" is assumed to be a corruption of "Solomon," but is noted by the editor to be the Arabic form of the name. Twenty years later, Quatermain was laid low by a fever when he met another traveler, Jose Silvestre, who speaks briefly with Quatermain and bids him farewell, stating, "If we ever meet again, I shall be the richest man in the world, and I shall remember you. A week later, having recovered from his fever, Quatermain is hunting with his companions when they come across a man nearly dead from exposure to the elements. This is none other than Jose Silvestre, whom Quatermain and his men nurse back to a modicum of health. Knowing he will die soon, Silvestre bequeaths his link to King Solomon's mines, a document written by his ancestor, Jose da Silvestra, detailing in obscure terms the location of the fabled mines. Captain Good and Sir Henry are astonished at Quatermain's story, and the latter takes their amazement as disbelief and nearly quits their company. The two men assure Quatermain that they believe his story. In fact, upon learning of Quatermain's acquaintance with both the legend and the man, Sir Henry seeks Quatermain's assistance in locating his brother, who had gone off in a quest to find the diamond mines. He is so concerned for his brother's welfare that he offers to split the diamonds of King Solomon's mines equally between Quatermain and Captain Good, as all he desires is the safety of his only brother
feat_summary_analysis: Allan Quatermain presents himself as a man of experience, "fifty-five last birthday," who has only now begun an attempt at writing down his personal history.  Haggard thereby establishes Quatermain as the first-person narrator, but one who is uncouth with the pen.  In contrast to the prevalent novels of the time, Haggard's narrator is unschooled: "At an age when other boys are at school, I was earning my living as a trader in the old Colony" .  This fact signals the reader that the tale which follows will not be a drawing-room romance, but the account of a man's own wild adventures.  Haggard himself had lived in South Africa, and it is his detail concerning the setting which lends more credence to Quatermain's account.  The "untutored narrator" is also a convention that allows Haggard to make mistakes in his rush to write  while blaming any stylistic errors on the narrator's unlettered past.  At times throughout the narrative, and especially here in the first chapter, Quatermain rambles and meanders off-topic briefly in his account, lending a more friendly tone to the narrative than could be found in many of the novels of manners available to readers of the time. In addition, Quatermain mentions the only two literary works he has spent any time reading, the Ingoldsby Legends and the Old Testament, thereby foreshadowing both his frequent allusions to both works, and his own adventures in a world lost to a distant past. Sir Henry Curtis and Captain Good are also introduced in this first chapter.  Sir Henry at first seems familiar to Quatermain, a fact borne out by Quatermain's earlier acquaintance with Sir Henry's brother.  Sir Henry is described in heroic terms by Quatermain as "one of the biggest-chested and longest-armed men I eve saw" .  He goes on to say that Sir Henry "reminded me of an ancient Dane" .  Captain Good is also described in glowing terms, but is set up as a foil for Quatermain.  Whereas Quatermain is a rough product of the hunting and trading life, Good is a "gentleman," a Royal Navy officer.  To Quatermain, Naval officers are of a higher caliber than ordinary men, and Good is a proper officer.  Good's fastidiousness, which will play a larger  part in their later adventures, is hinted at by Quatermain: "He was so very neat and so very clean shaved, and he always wore an eye-glass in his right eye" . In telling the legend of King Solomon's diamond mines, Haggard makes several uses of creative verisimilitude to firmly entrench the reader in the reality of this amazing tale.  Quatermain tells the legend of the Mines rather than Good or Sir Henry, thus leading the reader into an automatic acceptance of the tale. Quatermain recounts the tale as he has heard it from others, lending a sense of history to the account, while various editorial details support the reality of the story, such as a Spanish-language "original" of Jose da Silvestra's letter and the footnote that "Suliman" is Arabic for "Solomon." Sir Henry Curtis and Captain Good offer Quatermain the traditional "call to adventure" of many heroic quest stories.  Curtis draws out of Quatermain his acquaintance with Neville, Curtis' brother, and the desperate plight the older brother must be in.  Good evokes Quatermain's sense of honor and adventure in focusing on the need to rescue a fellow man  or aid a fellow man , but also by bringing the riches of King Solomon's Mines to the fore.  Quatermain, in true heroic tradition, is reluctant to join the quest immediately, but sets some conditions evocative of Odysseus  before he will consider the matter.