It had polished angles and natural facets, and even a
novice, with an eye in his head, could see it was a diamond of the
purest water. Staines and Falcon shouted with delight, and made the
blacks a present on the spot.
They showed the prize, at night, and begged the farmer to take to
digging. There was ten times more money beneath his soil than on it.
Not he. He was a farmer: did not believe in diamonds. Two days
afterwards, another great find. Seven small diamonds.
Next day, a stone as large as a cob-nut, and with strange and beautiful
streaks. They carried it home to dinner, and set it on the table, and
told the family it was worth a thousand pounds. Bulteel scarcely looked
at it; but the vrow trembled and all the young folk glowered at it.
In the middle of dinner, it exploded like a cracker, and went literally
into diamond-dust.
"Dere goes von tousand pounds," said Bulteel, without moving a muscle.
Falcon swore. But Staines showed fortitude. "It was laminated," said he,
"and exposure to the air was fatal."
Owing to the invaluable assistance of the Hottentots, they had in
less than a month collected four large stones of pure water, and a
wineglassful of small stones, when, one fine day, going to work calmly
after breakfast, they found some tents pitched, and at least a score
of dirty diggers, bearded like the pard, at work on the ground.
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