nita looked at the
massive, circular wall still thirty or forty feet in height, by perhaps
twenty through its base, built of granite blocks without mortar,
and ornamented with quaint patterns of other coloured stones. In
its thickness she could see grooves, where evidently had once been
portcullises, but these had disappeared long ago.

"It is a wonderful place," she said to her father. "I am glad that I
came. Have you been all over it?"

"No; only between the first and second walls, and once between the
second and third. The old temple, or whatever it is, is on the top,
and into that they would never admit us. It is there that the treasure
lies."

"That the treasure is supposed to lie," she answered with a smile. "But,
Father, what guarantee have you that they will do so now? Perhaps they
will take the guns and show us the door--or rather the gate."

"Your daughter is right, there is none; and before a box is taken off
the waggon we must get one," said Meyer. "Oh! I know it is risky, and it
would have been better to make sure first, but it is too late to talk of
that now. Look, the stones are cleared. Trek on--trek!"

The long waggon-whip cracked, the poor, tired-out oxen strained at the
yokes, and on they went through the entrance of that fateful fortress
that was but just wide enough to admit them. Inside lay a great open
space, which, as they could see from the numerous ruins, had once been
filled with buildings that now were half hidden by grass, trees, and
creepers. This was the outer ring of the temple where, in ancient
days, the priests and captains had their home. Travelling across it for
perhaps a hundred and fifty yards, they came near the second wall, which
was like the first, only not quite so solid, and saw that on a stretch
of beaten ground, and seated in the shadow, for the day was hot, the
people of Bambatse were gathered to greet them.

When within fifty yards they dismounted from the horses, which were
left with the waggon in the charge of the Makalanga, Tamala. Then Benita
taking her position between her father and Jacob Meyer, they
advanced towards the ring of natives, of whom there may have been two
hundred--all of them adult men.

As they came, except one figure who remained seated with his back
against the wall, the human circle stood up as a token of respect, and
Benita saw that they were of the same stamp as the messengers--tall and
good-looking, with melancholy eyes and a cowed express