The record-union. [volume] (Sacramento, Calif.) 1891-1903, 1897-03-14

least of all the Johnstons So l merely
thanked him for his kind offer and said
that 1 had enough for present purposes,
which was strictly true-only the pres
ent was limited
Curiously enough, when once ashore,
I didn't seem to be in any hurry to
seek the spot where lay my fortune.
And in spite of several recurrances of
the impalpable sensation before alluded
to, 1 stayed pottering about the town.
At last, in that snug hostel, the
George" I one day met an old mate
who was just returning to the diggings
after the inevitable spree. He knew,
so he said of some alluvial up Rusten-
burg way, and pressed me to accompa-
ny him.
So went The place turned out bare
tucker. But after a lot of knocking
about we did happen to drop on a patch
that gave us f1OO each by the time it
was worked out.
Then Jack Williams, my companion,
got bad touch of fever and we both
cleared off to johannesburg for a spell.
Being in funds again, had quite for
gotten my moldering Kaffir lying all
the while not very far away, just on
the edge of shade, and clear of root
channels, waiting patiently with his
face toward Swaziland.
Then, one afternoon, returning from
the hospital, where / had been to see
how Williams was getting on. whom
should 1 run against but Johnston.
The first salutations over, Come
along" said he, I'm off home to-mor-
row to the new place near Klerksdorp.
Mary's there, and she'll be glad to see
you. Come, you must"
For a while I hesitated. Williams I
knew was going back to Cape Town
directly he got better; SO that really
there was nothing to keep me. Then 1
thought of Mary and consented.
Early next morning we started in a
buggy drawn by two capital horses.
During the second days journey the
| country began to look changed, al
| though it was family familiar; and l
presently realized that we had struck
very nearly into the old track over
which l travelled with the Beers more
than five years ago.
| But so great We're the alterations in
the landscape that for some time l was
doubtful. Everywhere the ground had
| been rooted up by prospectors; then,
after a bit, the mullock heaps disap-
peared, giving way to farms and fences
dotted over the level grass veldt, with
| here and there plantations of blue gum
saplings.
| Lots of colonials around these
parts" said my companion, pointing to
the snug homesteads with a smile of
satisfaction. We've secured among us
most of this district-bough it from
| the shiftless Beers with their scabby
! fiocks and lazy, dirty ways. No Gn
answer to my question:, there's no gold
been found, SO far. These old shafts,
back yonder, are where they've been
| looking for lost lead from one of the
mines at the Rand-the Geldenhuis. But
apparently it didn't come this way"
CHAPTER II.
| It was on the third day when we
drove up to a comfortable looking stone
| house, and received a warm welcome
| from Mary, who, 1 fancied, seemed
more than merely pleased to see me.
| When l rose in the morning and went
out for an early smoke, the first OBJ
ject to catch my eye, just outside the
garden fence of smart white-painted
palings, was the koppie-the identical
stony, fiat-topped hill of that long-ago
| trek.
| 1t, as we'll as its surroundings, was
changed Many gaps and cuttings in
| its sides showed where the materials
for the snug buildings around me had
| been procured. But for the white
| three-cornered patch, plain, if not
palmer than ever, 1 doubt whether
should have recognized it again. AS ii
was, 1 knew that 1 could not be mis-
! taken. / looked for the big tree, but
saw no signs of it. Only the long veldt
grass and the SO familiar gum leaves
on many saplings shimmering in the
sun.
After time, and with some effort OF
memory, I decided that, as nearly as
possible, the spot on which the tree
had stood was now occupied by rustic
summer house, built in what was evil
IDENTIFY the middle of Mary's flower
garden.
And then, as caught the flutter of a
white dress through leafy alley-way
of vines, l started in pursuit, and, fol
| the nonce, once more consigned my
Kafffr to oblivion.
! Each day 1 stayed on at Draaken-
spruit the more deeply I felt that
must either win Mary Johnston or die
a bachelor. And as time passed 1 fiat
tered myself, as the saying goes, I was
not wholly Indifferent to her
| But I was afraid to speak Her father
was, knew, one of the richest settlers
in the Transvaal, owning, besides a cou-
pie of fine farms, many shares in some
of the best mines on the Rand
| No, I must go away at once, and
somewhere, by hook or crook. do what
so many more We're doing just then
find gold, and plenty of it. Then
might, without misgiving, return and
claim Mary.
Forty pounds out of the one hundred
had gone to Osborne in Melbourne,
| leaving a remainder in hand of about
an equal amount. Clearly, 1 must de-
part before 1 made a fool of myself
And that 1 had sternly resolved on not
doing. But when pretty girl is one
| of the factors in a resolution, it is an
utter impossibility to forecast events.
And one evening, sitting in the sum-
rler house, exactly over the spot where
1 reckoned my Kffira's bones should be-
the odor of orange blossoms heavy on
the warm air, and the great white Ill
les outside looking like cups of frosted
silver in the moonlight things some
how fell out as I intended them not to
do.
had been telling Mary of my inten-
| lions to trek to the new diggings in
Manicaland, and when 1 saw the sud-
I i r. Co I'D he
look of pain and sorrow that crept into