"The vein runs out on the face of a cliff, 'bout forty paces from the first rampike pine; there's three or four rampikes, but the fire hadn't gone far into the bush." "Not much of a clue! There are patches of burned forest all over the country," Stormont remarked.
"Don't interrupt!" said Drummond, with a frown.

"It's pretty hard to remember.

Give me 'nother drink.

I wanter get it right." Stormont filled his glass and he resumed in an unsteady voice: "Cliff rises from the creek in a little round hollow.

There's a big rock near the top of the divide opposite--" "Go on.