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Haggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider), 1856-1925

"Benita, an African romance"


"Heaven send that the gold is not buried here," said Mr. Clifford,
surveying the scene; "for if it is, we shall never find it."
The Molimo seemed to guess the meaning of his words from his face, for
he answered:
"I think not here. The besiegers won this place and camped in it for
many weeks. I could show you were they built their fires and tried to
undermine the last wall within which the Portuguese sat about until
hunger killed them, for they could not eat their gold. Follow me again."
So on they went up the slope till they came to the base of the third
wall, and as before, passed round it, and reached a point above the
river. But now there was no passage, only some shallow and almost
precipitous steps cut from single stones leading from the foot of the
wall to its summit, more than thirty feet above.
"Really," said Benita, contemplating this perilous ascent with dismay,
"the ways of treasure seekers are hard. I don't think I can," while her
father also looked at them and shook his head.
"We must get a rope," said Meyer to the Molimo angrily. "How can we
climb that place without one, with such a gulf below?"
"I am old, but I climb it," said the aged man in mild surprise, since to
him, who had trodden it all his life, it seemed not difficult.


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