Gold, gold, gold,
In distant fields so far away!
'Tis his who comes to seek, I say;
'Tis his to take where'er he will,
'Tis his go where he will--his still.

Gold, gold, gold,
In getting it three things beware!
In discord take no part or share;
Beware the sea's engulfing waves,
And thirst which drives men to their graves."


With open mouths the Chinamen listened to the mysterious words of the
priest, and when he had finished his slyly contrived speech, they sat
for a time in mute astonishment. Finally Lohe spoke up:

"To me the answer seems favorable. The God confirms the idea of there
being gold in a distant laud to the south, and says that we can get and
keep possession of it, if we only take heed of three things--discord,
the sea, and thirst. As to discord--it lies within our power to avoid
that; as to the sea--we could be drowned quite as easily on our own
coast as on a long journey to the south, if that is to be our fate; and
as to thirst, who would not endure thirst for the sake of becoming ten
times richer than the rich Natse?"

All agreed that the answer was most favorable. The greedy priest did
not stop, but went on to tell that the God could not be relied upon to
take them safely through all dangers, unless rich sacrificial offerings
were made. "Daily", said he, "I will burn incense and strips of gold