We were now close on the 125th degree of longitude, which I had marked as the limit of our eastward course, and my faith in more northerly latitudes was so little, indeed, that I dreaded making any change in our direction of travel.

"If we don't strike gold within the next couple of days," said Phil, "there isn't much likelihood of our being overburdened with wealth at the end of the trip."

Mac, who was pulling the nose rope of the leading camel, at once lifted up his voice in protest.

"For Heaven's sake be mair pleasant wi' yer remarks, Phil," he cried. "I was calculatin' on goin' home like a young millionaire——"

"You'll need to calculate again, then, Mac," interrupted Phil, "for I don't think we'll get a red cent out of the ground on this journey."

But the complainer was not yet satisfied.

"What's the guid o' bein' a golologist?" he demanded wrathfully. "I thocht——"

What he thought remained unspoken, for at that moment we heard a scramble behind, and looking round we saw the doughty Mac and his compatriot Stewart engaged in fierce conflict.

"I saw it first, ye red-heided baboon," roared the former, with remarkable fluency of expression.

"The fact o' seeing it is naething—naething at a'," returned the other with great complacency, "It's sufficient to say that I hae got it."

The camels, feeling the strain of guidance relaxed, had come to a halt, and were now seemingly taking an interest in the squabble. It was a rare thing for them to be left to their own devices, even for a moment. Time is precious when crossing these vast salt tracts, and midday stoppages in the blazing sun are dangerous.

"What are you two quarrelling about now?" I asked sternly, feeling in no gentle mood with the hinderers. Mac's face assumed an intensely aggrieved expression, but he held his peace, and Stewart calmly displayed a small rounded pebble between his finger and thumb, announcing blandly that it alone was the cause of the disturbance.

"It's a bonnie stane," said he, gazing at his treasure admiringly.

"An' it's mine by richt," howled Mac.

I was about to lecture the pair strongly on their foolish behaviour over what I supposed to be an ordinary fragment of white quartz, when Phil uttered an exclamation, and, rushing back, snatched the pebble from Stewart's hand and proceeded to examine it closely. So eager was his scrutiny that in a moment we were clustered round him, awaiting his verdict with extreme interest.

"What do you make of it?" said he at length, handing the stone to me.

"Weather-worn quartz," I replied promptly. He shook his head.

"We'll work it out in specific gravity later," he said, with the air of one who was sure of his ground; "but I will bet you this half of a shirt I am wearing that it's a genuine ruby, and there must be more of them in the vicinity."

"Hurroo!" yelled Mac and Stewart in unison, prancing around delightedly, and for the moment Phil's delinquencies were forgotten in the tribute of praise that my worthy henchmen generously accorded the "golologist." They ended by making him a present of the fateful gem, though Mac somewhat spoilt the effect of the gift by soliloquising rather loudly—

"It'll be well to propeetiate the golologist, Stewart, my man, for he's nae sae stupid as he looks, efter a'."

Soon after we renewed our march, much uplifted at the thought of acquiring treasure even more valuable than gold; but though we kept a sharp look-out on the ground surface, the early afternoon passed without any further coloured pebbles being discovered, whereat Mac again commenced to revile the country with his customary eloquence.

"That ruby wis a delooshun," he asserted stoutly. "Some o' the El Dorado fairies must ha'e put it there on purpose to deceive us, an' noo they'll be having grand fun at oor expense."

"Hustle along old Misery, and don't moralise," I interjected hastily.

"Moralise?" he echoed. "Me moralise? No vera likely. I never dae such a thing. Gee up, Meesery, an' stop winkin' at me this meenit."

But the mention of El Dorado had aroused in Stewart a strain of recollection, and as he paced beside his cumbrous charge he made several ineffectual attempts to recite some ancient verses as learned in the days of his youth.

"I canna mind the poetry o' it," he broke out at last, "but the story was real bonnie; it telt hoo a warrior went out to seek for El Dorado, and—and——" Then his memory came back to him, and he chanted out dismally—

"Which is," grunted Mac, "which is, metaphorically speaking, preceesely what we are doing. Gee up, Meesery, and dinna look sae weary-like."

"Our specimen must have been shed from that mountain," I repeated, when we lay down in our blankets at night.

The morning dawned clear and beautifully calm. The sky was cloudless, save where in the east a billowy sea of gold marked where the sun had risen. The leafless branches of the mulga shrubs growing near quivered in the rising rays, and the long sand-track ahead sparkled as the waters of a gilded ocean. But now, through the dispelling haze the firm outline of a precipitous mountain became clearly visible only a few miles ahead. In our eager search on the preceding afternoon we had not observed the nearness of the welcome sentinel, or probably it was that the darkening sky in the early evening had shut it from our view. There was certainly no doubt about its presence now, and we hailed it right gladly as we watched it loom out of the dissolving mists.

"It's mebbe a mirage," suggested Stewart apprehensively.

"Nary miradge," retorted Mac; "it's El Dorado, that's what it is. Just what we were looking for."

Five minutes later I was ogling the sun with my sextant, while Phil stood by with the trusty chronometer in his hand to note the time of my observations.

"125 degrees 17 minutes east longitude," he announced, after a rough calculation, "which makes the mountain about ten miles off."

Stewart trolled out lustily as he set about the preparation of the morning meal. About eight o'clock we were ready to start, which showed unusual alacrity in our movements. The camels, too, seemed imbued with fresh life, and allowed themselves to be loaded without their customary protests.

"I've never seen Meesery sae tractable," Mac said in amazement, patting the trembling nostrils of the leading camel. "I wonder what's gaun to happen?"

"We're all ready," sung out Phil blithely, and I gave the usual signal for the advance.

"Gee up, Meesery," grunted Mac.

"Aince mair, Slavery," implored Stewart, and we set out for the mountain at an unusually lively pace. The forenoon passed without event, and so speedy had been our progress that our midday halt was made amongst the straggling timber belt which feathered the base of the mountain. We lost no time in making ready for the ascent, and within an hour after our arrival we had hobbled the camels and were starting out on our journey of discovery.

For the first half-hour we made fairly good headway through the straggling belt of eucalypti covering the lower slopes, then we emerged on a treeless, boulder-strewn expanse, on which the sun scintillated with burning intensity. Over this scorched area we clambered as best we could. The sharp rubble cut through our boots, and the glistening rocks, hot as a fiery furnace, burnt our clutching hands. Our mountain exploration was surely becoming less of a picnic than we had anticipated. Directly above, a solid mass of basalt reared its head, gaunt and bare, but when we came to the edge of the glass-like cap, we hesitated—we might as well have attempted to cross a field of molten metal. From this point various dry channels tore down the face of the hill, radiating outwards into the plain. They were so silted up with rock fragments and ironsand as to be scarcely perceptible, but Phil's trained eye at once noted their significance.

"Ages ago," said he, "those gullies were filled with rushing torrents, which goes to prove that a crater lake existed on the top of the mountain."

He walked over to one of the ancient beds and scraped among the drift of black sand conglomeration. At once several water-worn specimens of quartzite were uncovered, and of these over fifty per cent. bore the characteristic markings of the ruby.

"Fill your pockets with these, Mac," he said quietly. "They should be worth considerably more than their weight in gold."

Prolonged travelling in Western Australia does not tend to develop enthusiasm, and the extraordinary find so unexpectedly made was greeted by no extravagant manifestations of delight. Relief rather than joy was ours at that moment, for in one important sense at least our quest seemed surely ended.

"If we can find water in the vicinity we'll camp at the foot of the hill for a few days, boys," I announced with much satisfaction. "Meanwhile we had better explore a little further, and see what the country looks like from the summit."

But Mac and Stewart were already busily engaged collecting specimens, which they stowed in every nook and corner of their ragged garments.

"Come along, you gloating misers!" cried Phil, as he and I started to negotiate the last stiff climb.

"There's nae time like the present," growled Mac oracularly, pursuing his congenial task with supreme content.

"I'm o' the same opeenion," spluttered Stewart, who had turned his mouth into a receptacle for the finest gems in his collection. So we crawled over the smooth climaxing dome alone. Our surprise was great when on reaching the top we found ourselves on the edge of a small circular area that depressed ever so slightly towards the centre, providing a space which looked remarkably like an ordinary circus ring. This impression was much heightened by the fact that a well-marked path seemed to have been worn around the periphery; but through what agency this had been done I could not well imagine. We stood surveying the odd arena, filled with wonder.

"It is one of Nature's strange tricks," I said, after a considerable silence.

Phil looked doubtful, but he did not speak. Then we made a further discovery. The saucer-shaped hollow was graven out of a solid lava formation, but exactly over the point of its deepest dip several crumbling branches lay strewn. Of a certainty they had not come there of their own accord, and at once we were overwhelmed with dire misgivings.

"It means that there are some native tribes in the neighbourhood," said Phil, watching me kick aside the branches with much interest. What we saw then did not add to our bewilderment, for we had already partly guessed the significance of the peculiar arrangement. Under the layer of brush, a narrow, funnel-like shaft had been hid, which apparently descended into the heart of the mouldering desert sentinel, but why this hole had been covered was more than we could understand. While we stood in silent contemplation of the remarkable state of affairs disclosed, our energetic companions, having marvelled at our long absence, swarmed up beside us, breathing heavily.

"Nebuchadnezzar's furnace wouldna be in the same street wi' that biler," began Mac, patting his scantily-covered knees with tender solicitude.

"I smell nigger," howled Stewart, taking in the scene at a glance.

"That's aye what happens when A come oot withoot my gun," sorrowfully muttered the first arrival, moving over to the narrow crater mouth and peering into the darkness with studied nonchalance.

It so happened, however, that the loose pockets of his flimsy upper garment were filled to overflowing with cherished specimens, and the half-kneeling attitude which he assumed allowed them to escape in a copious stream, so that they fell down into the depths. With a bellow of rage he drew back, but not before the bulk of his treasure had disappeared; then the air was filled with the fulness of his wrath, and sulphurous expressions loud and deep were hurled into the Stygian gloom.

"Calm yersel', Mac—calm yersel'," adjured Stewart soothingly.

"Calm be d—— d!" roared the afflicted one. "Hoo am I goin' to get back my rubies?"

This was a point which seemed unanswerable.

"You'll get more to-morrow, Mac," I said, "but we'll have to return to the camels now, in case the natives get a hold of them before we have time to take precautions."

He remained unappeased, however.

"We'll mebbe hae to flee for oor lives afore morning," he protested gloomily. "It's no the first time we've had to strike camp in a hurry."

As he spoke he unwound from his waist a long coil of rope which he usually carried in case of emergency, and, with dogged determination, proceeded to sound the depths of the well.

"You'd better let me gang," advised Stewart, guessing his companion's intentions before they had been uttered; "I'm no sae bulky as you, an'——"

He got no further.

"Mak' nae mair allooshuns," came the answer, with a chilling dignity. "I'll engineer this funeral mysel'."

Hastily fastening a fragment of rock to the end of the rope, he dropped it into the narrow orifice and carefully noted the length of line run out. All this time Phil and I had made little comment, never expecting that any satisfactory bottom would be found; but great was our surprise to see the rope become stationary when little over twenty feet had been paid out.

"I'm really anxious to know what is at the bottom of that hole, Mac," said Phil; "but I hope you don't find a nice fat, healthy crocodile awaiting you——"

"Haud the end o' the rope, Phil, an' dinna speechify," broke out the harassed Mac impatiently; and he wriggled his somewhat substantial form into the vertical channel until his arms alone saved him from falling down altogether.

"It's a—a tight fit," he grumbled, with diminishing enthusiasm. "Noo haud on tight, ye deevils; haud on—haud on!"

His voice rumbled up dolorously to our ears as we lowered him gently into the mysterious pit, until, when the lower depths were reached, the rocky vault seemed to tremble with vague echoes. Suddenly the strain on the rope was relaxed, and we waited expectantly for tidings from the adventurer.

"It's vera dark doon here," came the ghost-like voice from the underground. "I think—I think I'll come up——"

"What sort of bottom have you got, Mac?" I shouted. "Try and fetch up a specimen."

A few more inconsequent remarks issued from the pit mouth, then we could see the dull glimmer of a match far below. Almost immediately after a jubilant yell of triumph swelled up to the surface.

"I've got them! I've got them!" he cried. "An' there's gold quartz here, foreby." Then came a crash, a rumble, and a dull, heavy splash, and we on the surface gazed on each other in dismay.

"Let me doon! Let me doon!" wailed Stewart. "Something serious has happened to Mac. Haud on to the rope." He let himself into the narrow aperture with unwonted agility, and, with an unspeakable fear in our hearts, Phil and I commenced to pay out the rope.

"Wha the—who the—— Wha's blockin' the licht?" bellowed a well-known voice from the bowels of the earth, which had the effect of ejecting Stewart into the outer air with a celerity astonishing to behold. Then we breathed again.

Apparently some ledge had first intercepted our sounding-line, and also provided a precarious foothold for our valiant associate; but that the true bottom had now been reached there was little room for doubt.

"I might have guessed before," said Phil, "that the crater would have an impervious base, and so retain any rain that might be collected."

Judging by the snorts and puffs emitted by the individual who was in a position to know, the shaft must have held a fair amount of liquid contents.

"Haul on the rope, for heaven's sake!" spluttered he. "This water would pushion a nigger. Haul me up quick! There's snakes an' wee crocodiles tickling me!"

In haste we endeavoured to obey his beseeching call, but the sodden cord was not equal to the strain, and twice the strands snapped before our comrade's bulk was raised from the water.

"We'd better double the line, boys," I said. "Mac must have increased in weight during his sojourn below."

The unfortunate victim of his own prowess groaned lugubriously from his dank and dark prison, but found time between his grumbling to curse right heartily the various denizens of his watery environment.

"Be patient, Mac, be patient," counselled Stewart, rearranging the haulage system. "Scientific exploration is not without its drawbacks, as you should well ken by this time." He continued addressing choice words of wisdom to his helpless compatriot while he deftly spliced the rope. During this lull in operations I chanced to look abroad over the sweltering plain, and at once my eyes detected the curling "smokes" of a native camp. We had been too busily engrossed with other matters since our arrival on the hill-top to observe the landscape on the east, and now the nearness of a possible hostile band appalled me. Our rifles had been left in camp, and I only carried a revolver.

"By Jove!" said Phil, "we are going to be in a fix." Then a shout of alarm broke from him: "There's about a dozen of the ugliest bucks I ever saw coming right up the hill," he said feebly. I followed his gaze, and, sure enough, I could see a number of hideously-scarred and feather-bedecked warriors making their way through the scraggy brushwood, scarcely a hundred yards from where we stood. With frantic haste, we again endeavoured to rescue our companion from his awkward predicament, but fate was surely against us. We had with our combined efforts raised him only a few feet when the rope came in contact with the broken ledge, and the strands parted like so many straws, so that Mac was once more precipitated back into the slimy waters. Our plans had now to be made quickly.

"Go down to the camp, Stewart," I said, "and fetch a camel pack-rope and my rifle. Phil and I will make the best of things till you come back." Forgetful alike of the burning rock and the sharp-edged rubble, he slid down the smooth declivity, and made a wild burst for the foot of the hill. Almost immediately the many-barbed spears of the aborigines bore into view from the opposite side of the dome, and we laid ourselves flat on the curving wall and breathlessly waited events. Slowly a weird procession filed on to the elevated platform, and continued a solemn march around the well-trod channel which had first claimed our attention. Round and round they circled, clashing their spears and shields, and swaying their lithe black bodies drunken-like. Then suddenly they broke out into a dismal chant, and quickened their step into a half-run, ludicrous to behold. It was soon evident to us that the warrior band had not come to level their spears against us; they never once glanced in our direction. Their gaze was apparently fixed on the ancient crater in which Mac lay entombed. They had come to worship the great spirit Wangul, the dreaded "Dweller in the Waters."

The dÉnoÛement of this interesting ceremonial was rapid and unexpected. Just when the reeling warriors had ceased their vocal exercise from sheer want of breath, when the ensuing silence was broken only by the pattering of many feet on the sun-baked lava, a hoarse voice thundered up from subterranean caverns, and at the sound the poor nomads halted in their mad career, and gazed at each other terror-stricken.

"Babba, Wangul, Moori!" they cried shrilly, "Babba, Wangul, Moori!" ("The Water God speaks"). Again a sonorous echo reverberated up from the heart of the mountain, completing their demoralisation. A moment they hesitated, then, dashing their warlike arms to the ground, and tearing the feathers from their hair, they fled madly back whence they had come. Phil gave a gasp of relief, and I felt thankful beyond expression. Then we quickly made our way through the litter of discarded weapons towards the Wangul's home. The words that floated to our ears when we gazed into the depths were sulphurous in the extreme. Poor Mac could not understand why he had been so ruthlessly neglected, and his complaints were deep and eloquent.

"Stewart, ye red-heided deevil, are ye goin' to pu' me oot, or are ye no?" he howled in righteous indignation, and I was glad that the individual named, who just then came swarming over the rocks, puffing tempestuously, had not heard the fervent malediction bestowed upon his faithful person. He approached laden with the whole armoury of the expedition, the perspiration streaming from his face, and his gaunt frame trembling visibly.

"I thought ye had been all slauchtered," he muttered, subsiding behind his equipment, "an' I wis goin' to hae revenge."

With the aid of the stout camel-ropes we soon raised our dripping comrade to the surface. As he approached the light of day I noticed that his rugged old face bore a distinctly grim expression, as if he was of the opinion that we had been having a huge joke at his expense; but when he heard of what had occurred, and the part he had unwittingly played in the ceremonial, resentment gave place to mirth, and he laughed uproariously.

"An' here's the rubies, Stewart, my man," he said, extracting the precious stones from some secret corner of his bedraggled wardrobe; "I got them safe efter a', and you shall have the finest are o' the collection for yer maist splendifferous efforts on my behalf."

Soon after we returned to camp, but it was many days later when we said goodbye to the lonely mountain which Mac persisted in misnaming El Dorado.