sticking up. With shaking hands Stobart pulled it out of
the sand. It came away easily, for the handle was burnt. He groped
about near it and uncovered, one after another, a gold-washing dish, a
pick-head, a couple of wedges, and a hammer. The sand had drifted over
them and made a mound. Then he laid bare a truly gruesome
sight--charred embers of wood and half-burnt human bones.

Stobart did not disturb the sand any more. He knew now why the gold
prospectors, who had penetrated into the Musgrave fastnesses in search
of the wealth which was reputed to be there, had never returned. Would
_he_ ever return, he wondered. The place was haunted by the spirits of
the murdered dead, and was guarded by black devils in human form. Even
now one of them might be watching him, waiting an opportunity of adding
his bones to the collection which the sand had covered up.

He rose to his feet. He was thirsty, and the sight he had just seen
made him want to soak his whole body in the cool clean water of the
pool. He laughed harshly. What were all these fancies which were
coming into his head? He would not give way to them. This life in a
blacks' camp was upsetting his nerves. What were a few dead men after
all? He had seen plenty of them. _He_ was alive and would soon escape
from this outpost of death. He laughed again. The rocky walls sent
back an echo of his laugh. It sounded like an evil spirit mocking him.
He walked a few paces, till he was near those white things which had
been laid out so carefully in the design of the Southern Cross. He
looked at them. He looked again, astonished beyond measure. Yes! No!
Yes, they were!

They were human skulls--white men's skulls!

Stobart staggered away. He lay down on the edge of the water. He
needed its cool touch to save him from madness. He drank deep, deep
satisfying draughts. He bathed his head and face and plunged his arms
in it, splashing the life-giving drops over his naked chest. The sense
of horror gradually began to leave him, and he realized that he had
reached the object of his search. He had found the Musgrave gold-mine.
From where he lay he looked up at the boulder-strewn knoll behind the
water-hole. Even at the distance of several yards he could see that
every boulder was more richly studded with the precious metal than any
he had ever seen. It did not surprise him. The events of the last
hour had robbed him of the power to be surprised. He just