Old Mr. Carson leaned upon his daughter’s arm and contemplated the scene with pride.

“I have done all this, Allan Quatermain,” he said.  “When renouncing civilization, I wandered here by chance; seeking a home in the remotest places of the world, I found this lonely spot a wilderness.  Nothing was to be seen except the site, the domes of the marble huts, and the waterfalls.  I took possession of the huts.  I cleared the path of garden land and planted the orange grove.  I had only six natives then, but by degrees others joined me, now my tribe is a thousand strong.  Here we live in profound peace and plenty.  I have all I need, and I seek no more.  Heaven has prospered me so far—­may it do so to the end, which for me draws nigh.  And now I am tired and will go back.  If you wish to see the old quarry and the mouth of the ancient mines, Stella will show them to you.  No, my love, you need not trouble to come, I can manage.  Look! some of the headmen are waiting to see me.”

So he went; but still followed by Hendrika and Indaba-zimbi, we turned, and, walking along the bank of one of the rivers, passed up behind the marble kraals, and came to the quarry, whence the material of which they were built had been cut in some remote age.  The pit opened up a very thick seam of the whitest and most beautiful marble.  I know another like it in Natal.  But by whom it had been worked I cannot say; not by natives, that is certain, though the builders of these kraals had condescended to borrow the shape of native huts for their model.  By the way, the only relic of those builders that I ever saw was a highly finished bronze pick-axe which Stella had found one day in the quarry.

After we had examined this quarry we climbed the slope of the hill till we came to the mouth of the ancient mines which were situated in a gorge.  I believe them to have been silver mines.  The gorge was long and narrow, and the moment we entered it there rose from every side a sound of groaning and barking that was almost enough to deafen us.  I knew what it was at once:  the whole place was filled with baboons, which clambered down the rocks towards us from every direction, and in a manner that struck me as being unnaturally fearless.  Stella turned a little pale and clung to my arm.

“It is very silly of me,” she whispered.  “I am not at all nervous, but ever since they killed Hendrik I cannot bear the sight of those animals.  I always think that there is something human about them.”

Meanwhile the baboons drew nearer, talking to each other as they came.  Tota began to cry, and clung to Stella.  Stella clung to me, while I and Indaba-zimbi put as bold a front on the matter as we could.  Only Hendrika stood looking at the brutes with an unconcerned smile on her monkey face.  When the great apes were quite near, she suddenly called aloud.  Instantly they stopped their hideous clamour as though at a word of command.  Then Hendrika addressed them:  I can only describe it so.  That is to say, she began to make a noise such as baboons do when they converse with each other.  I have known Hottentots and Bushmen who said that they could talk with the baboons and understand their language, but I confess I never heard it done before or since.