286 TROPIC DAYS 



seen it from a safe distance, but from the present aspect 

 only the indecorous glint at sunrise was visible. 



The stone was a crystallised fact, but why had the 

 blacks invested it with such ill omen ? Here was a 

 worthy quest a beautiful if not precious crystal be- 

 tokening the actual presence of a wary demon guardant 

 over the mouldering skeletons of Wylo's forefathers ! 

 What quest could be more sensational or likely to 

 be so famously rewarded ? 



Wylo was prepared to climb the mountain to the base 

 of the Sentinel, but no higher. Secrets hidden from his 

 intemperate, insistent gaze must surely be inconsequent. 

 Once and for all, the legend of the crystal might be 

 disposed of at the cost of two or three hours' climbing. 

 I would bring it back to prove to Wylo that no irreverent 

 "debil-debil" would ever again blink at the sun from 

 that particular spot. As for the skeletons, they were, 

 without doubt, as mythical as the evil spirit, and in 

 any case a few old bones were not to scare me from 

 venturing to the boldly obvious summit of the mountain . 



Wylo went wellnigh naked, carrying a day's provisions 

 and the rifle. I, too, was lightly clad, but wore thick- 

 soled boots, freely studded, and with a tomahawk felt 

 efficiently armed. 



Beyond the entanglement of the beach scrub the way 

 was open, though rough, with granite boulders half hidden 

 among rampant blady grass. The country was decidedly 

 hostile to the climber, though far from actually forbid- 

 ding, and with Wylo in the lead for I held myself in 

 reserve for the final clamber up the ravine, to which the 

 ascent to the base of the Sentinel was merely a prelude 

 the pace was respectable and sure. Closer acquaintance 

 forced a certain sort of respect for the Sentinel, which 

 was more massive, more venerable and time-worn than 

 could be imagined from afar off, while all the scene 



