"No," he said, "I am no diamond hunter. It would not be fair for my brother, either. I have made up my mind what to do. I am weak and ill, and I shall clear off and go back home."

"Nein, nein. Dot is pecause you are krank. Bube, you make your bruder quite vell und dry again. Dot is der vay. You shall nod go home to your alt beobles und say, 'Ve are gom pack like die pad shillings. No goot ad all.'"

"That's what I say," cried d.y.k.e eagerly. "I want to hunt for diamonds, and collect feathers, and skins, and ivory."

"Goot! Und gom und sh.e.l.l all to alt Oom Morgenstern."

"Yes," cried d.y.k.e. "I say: help me to make my brother think as I do."

"Of goorse I will, bube; I know," said the old man, winking his eyes.

"It ist pecause he has got das vevers in his pones; bud I haf in mein wagon zix boddles of vizzick to vrighten avay all dot. I zhall give him all die boddles, und I shall bud indo each zom quinines. Id ist pord wein, und he vill dake two gla.s.s, effery day, und fery zoon he vill laugh ad dem vevers und zay: 'Hi! Van d.y.k.e, get on your horse and go mit me to get iffory, und vedders, und skins, und diamonts, till we haf got a load, und den we vill go und sh.e.l.l dem to alt Oom Morgenstern--do dem alt ooncle, as you gall him.'--Vot haf you got dere, bube?"

"Two or three of the ostrich skulls that I found with the marks made in them by the Kaffir with a stone," said d.y.k.e, who had just been and opened the door of his case of curiosities.

"Zo!" said the old man. "Ah, und negs time you see dot Kaffir poy you make zome blace like dot upon der dop of his het. Und vot else have you there?--any dings to zell me?"

"Oh no; only a few curiosities I picked up. Look! I took these all out of the gizzard of an old c.o.c.k ostrich we were obliged to kill, because he broke his leg."

d.y.k.e handed a rough little wooden bowl to the old man.

"Ach! Mein cracious!" he cried.

"You wouldn't have thought it. And here's a great piece of rusty iron that he had swallowed too; I picked it out when I had lost a knife, and thought he had swallowed it."

"Mein cracious!" cried the old man again, and he let his pipe fall and break on the rough table.

d.y.k.e laughed as the visitor turned over the stones and the bit of rusty iron.

"One would have thought it would kill them to swallow things like that, but they're rare birds, Herr Morgenstern; they'll try and swallow anything, even straw-hats."

"Mein cracious, yes!" cried the old man again. "Und so, bube, you did vind all dose--dose dings in dem gizzard ov dot pirt?"

"Yes, all of them. I've got another bowlful that I picked up myself.

There are a good many about here."

"You vill let me loog ad dem, mein younger vrient?"

"Of course," said d.y.k.e, and he fetched from the case another rough little bowl that he had obtained from one of the Kaffirs.

There were about ten times as many of the stones, and with them pieces of quartz, shining with metallic traces, and some curious seeds.

Morgenstern turned them over again and again, and glanced at Emson, who looked low-spirited and dejected.

"Ach, zo! Mein cracious!" cried the old man; then, with his voice trembling: "Und zo there are blendy of dose shdones apout here?"

"Yes; I've often seen the ostriches pick them up and swallow them. I suppose it's because they are bright."

"Yes, I suppose it ist pecause they are zo bright," said the old man, pouring out a handful of the stones into his hand, and reverently pouring them back into the rough wooden bowl. Then rising, he shook hands silently with d.y.k.e.

"Going to bed?"

"No, mein younger vrient, nod yed. I haf somedings to zay to your bruder," and turning to Emson, who rose to say good-night to him, he took both his hands in his own, and pumped them up and down.

"Yoseph Emzon," he said, in a deeply moved voice, "I like you when you virst game into dese barts, und I zay dot man is a shentleman; I loaf him, unt den bube, his bruder. Now I gom here und vind you ill, my heart ist zore. I remember, doo, you zay I vas honest man, ant I dank den Lord I am, und dot I feel dot I am, und can say do you, mein young vrient, zom beobles who know what I know now would sheat und rob you, but I vould not. I vont zom days to die, und go ver der Lord vill say, 'Vell done, goot und vaithful zervant.' Yoseph Emzon, I am honest man, und I zay do you, all your droubles are over. You haf been zick, but you vill zoon be quide vell und shdrong, vor you vill not haf das sore heart, und de droubles which make do hair drop out of your het."

"Thank you, Morgenstern. I hope I shall soon be well enough to go,"

said Emson, sadly.

"Bood you vill not go, mein vrient," cried the old man. "You vill not leave here--mein cracious, no! You vill shdop und get all die ostridge you gan, und shend dem out effery day to big oop zom shdones, und den you vill dig oop der earth vor die pirts to vind more shdones, und when dey haf shvallowed all dey gan, you und der bube here vill kill dem, und empty die gizzards into die powls of water to vash dem."

"No, no, no: what nonsense!" cried Emson, while d.y.k.e suddenly dashed to the table, seized one bowl, looked at its contents, and banged them down again.

"Hurray!" he yelled. "Oh! Herr Morgenstern, is it real?" For like a light shot from one of the crystals, he saw the truth.

"Nonsense, Yoseph Emzon?" cried the old man. "Id is drue wisdom, as goot as der great Zolomon's. Yoseph Emzon, I gongradulade you. You haf had a hart shdruggle, but it is ofer now. Die ostridge pirts haf made you a ferry rich man, und I know dot it is right, for you vill always do goot."

"But--but--do I understand? Are those--those--"

"Yes, Joe," roared d.y.k.e, springing at his brother. "There is no more room for despair now, old chap, for you are rich; and to think we never thought of it being so when you were so unhappy, and--and--Oh, I can't speak now. I don't care for them--only for the good they'll do to you, for they're diamonds, Joe, and there's plenty more diamonds, and all your own."

"Yes, und pig vons, too," said the old trader, with a look of triumph; "und now I must haf somedings to trink. I haf dalk so much, I veel as I shall shoke. Here, bube, you go und shoomp indo dem vagon, und bring one of die plack poddles out of mein box py vere I shleep. Id is der bruder's vizzick, bud ve vill trink a trop to-night do gongradulade him, und you dwo shall trink do der health of dis honesd alt manns."

The bottle of port was fetched, a portion carefully medicated with quinine, and Morgenstern handed it to the invalid.

"Mein vrient," he said, "das is wein dot maketh glad das heart of man.

I trink do your goot health."

A few minutes later the old trader said softly:

"I go now to say mein brayer und get mein schleep. Goot-night, mein vrients, und Gott pless you both."

It was about an hour later, when the faint yelping of the jackals was heard in the distance, that Emson said softly:

"Asleep, young un?"

"No, Joe; I can't get off nohow. I say, am I dreaming, or is all this true?"

"It is true, lad, quite true; and I suppose that you and I are going to be rich men."

"Rich man and boy, Joe. I say: are you pleased?"

"More thankful than pleased, d.y.k.e, for now, when we like, we can start for home."

"Without feeling shamefaced and beaten, eh, Joe? Then I _am_ glad. I didn't quite know before, but I do know now; and we can make the old people at home happy, too, Joe."

"As far as money can make them so, little un."

"Hullo!" cried d.y.k.e; "you are a bit happy after all, Joe."