"Ay, but the document?" said Sir Henry, in a tone of deep interest.

"Yes, the document; what was in it?" added the captain.

"Well, gentlemen, if you like I will tell you. I have never showed it
to anybody yet except to a drunken old Portuguese trader who
translated it for me, and had forgotten all about it by the next
morning. The original rag is at my home in Durban, together with poor
Dom Jose's translation, but I have the English rendering in my pocket-
book, and a facsimile of the map, if it can be called a map. Here it
is."

[MAP OMITTED]

"I, Jose da Silvestra, who am now dying of hunger in the little
cave here no snow is on the north side of the nipple of the
southernmost of the two mountains I have named Sheba's Breasts,
write this in the year 1590 with a cleft bone upon a remnant of my
raiment, my blood being the ink. If my slave should find it when
he comes, and should bring it to Delagoa, let my friend (name
illegible) bring the matter to the knowledge of the king, that he
may send an army which, if they live through the desert and the
mountains, and can overcome the brave Kukuanes and their devilish
arts, to which end many priests should be brought, will make him
the richest king since Solomon. With my own eyes I have seen the
countless diamonds stored in Solomon's treasure chamber behind the
white Death; but through the treachery of Gagool the witch-finder
I might bring nought away, scarcely my life. Let him who comes
follow the map, and climb the snow of Sheba's left breast till he
reaches the nipple, on the north side of which is the great road