But men who seek their fortunes are not chary of hazarding their own lives of those of others.

They become fatalists, not avowedly perhaps, but unconsciously.

Those who are destined to die must die, they think, the others will live.

And, after all, it does not greatly matter which they do, for, as they know well, the world will never miss them.
When Leonard Outram, his brother, and two companions in adventure heard from the natives that at a particular spot on the mountains, nominally in the Portuguese territory near the lowest branch of the Zambesi, gold could be dug out like iron ore, and when, at the price of two Tower muskets and a half-bred greyhound, they received a concession from the actual chief of that territory to dig up and possess the gold without let or hindrance from any person whatsoever, they did not postpone their undertaking because the country was fever-stricken and the unhealthy season drew on.

In the first place, their resources were not great at the moment; and in the second, they feared lest some other enterprising person with three Tower muskets and two grey-hounds should persuade the chief to rescind their concession in his favour.
So they journeyed laboriously to the place of hidden wealth, and with the help of such native labour as they could gather began their search.
At first they were moderately successful; indeed, wherever they dug they found "colour," and once or twice stumbled upon pockets of nuggets.