room before dinner when
Captain Good produced a great rough diamond, weighing fifty carats or
more, and told them that he had many larger than that. If ever I saw
curiosity and envy printed on fair faces, I saw them then.

It was just at this moment that the door was opened, and Mr. Allan
Quatermain announced, whereupon Good put the diamond into his pocket,
and sprang at a little man who limped shyly into the room, convoyed by
Sir Henry Curtis himself.

"Here he is, Good, safe and sound," said Sir Henry, gleefully. "Ladies
and gentlemen, let me introduce you to one of the oldest hunters and the
very best shot in Africa, who has killed more elephants and lions than
any other man alive."

Everybody turned and stared politely at the curious-looking little lame
man, and though his size was insignificant, he was quite worth staring
at. He had short grizzled hair, which stood about an inch above his head
like the bristles of a brush, gentle brown eyes, that seemed to notice
everything, and a withered face, tanned to the colour of mahogany
from exposure to the weather. He spoke, too, when he returned Good's
enthusiastic greeting, with a curious little accent, which made his
speech noticeable.

It so happened that I sat next to Mr. Allan Quatermain at dinner, and,
of course, did my best to draw him; but he was not to be drawn. He
admitted that he had recently been a long journey into the interior of
Africa with Sir Henry Curtis and Captain Good, and that they had found
treasure, and then politely turned the subject and began to ask me
questions about England, where he had never been before--that is, since
he came to years of discretion. Of course, I did not find this very
interesting, and so cast about for some means to bring the conversation
round again.

Now, we were dining in an oak-panelled vestibule, and on the wall
opposite to me were fixed two gigantic elephant tusks, and under them
a pair of buffalo horns, very rough and knotted, showing that they came
off an old bull, and having the tip of one horn split and chipped. I
noticed that Hunter Quatermain's eyes kept glancing at these trophies,
and took an occasion to ask him if he knew anything about them.

"I ought to," he answered, with a little laugh; "the elephant to which
those tusks belonged tore one of our party right in two about eighteen
months ago, and as for the buffalo horns, they were nearly my death, and
were the end of a servant of mine to whom I was m