"Well, Jeekie, then what remains? Now last night when you told us that
amazing yarn of yours, you said something about a mountain full of gold,
and houses full of gold, among your people. Jeekie, do you think----"
and he paused, looking at him.

Jeekie rolled his black eyes round the room and in a fit of
absentmindedness helped himself to some more whisky.

"Do I think, Major, that this useless lucre could be converted into coin
of gracious King Edward? Not at all, Major, by no one, Major, by no one
whatsoever, except possibly by Major Alan Vernon, D.S.O., and by one,
Jeekie, Christian surname Smith."

"Proceed, Jeekie," said Alan, removing the whisky bottle, "proceed and
explain."

"Major, thus: The Asiki tribe care nothing about all that gold, it no
good to them. Dead people who live long, long ago, no one know when, dig
it up and store it there and make the great fetish which they call Bonsa
to keep away enemy who want to steal. Also old custom when any one in
country round find big nugget, or pretty stone, like ladies wear on
bosom, to bring it as offering to Bonsa, so that there now great plenty
of all this stuff. But no one use it for anything except to set on walls
of house of Asiki, or to make basin, stool, table and pot to cook with.
Once Arab come there and I see the priests give him weight in gold for
iron hoe, though afterwards they murder him, not for the gold, but lest
he go away and tell their secret."

"One might trade with them then, Jeekie?"