When the sun at long last rose, they abandoned their torches, clattering through the jungle now with only the muted morning light to show the way. The journey was a long one, and one that seemed to mainly consist of fighting the thick, clinging underbrush that reached out for them with thorny tendrils--a constant, tangling threat that served little other purpose besides slowing them down. It was as if the jungle itself was impeding them, attempting to push them away as they drove on toward its darkened heart, where secret things lived that few men had seen. An Englishman had seen them once, thinking nothing of them at the time--mere inconsequential scraps of earth, and he had no idea what lengths others would go to just for the chance to see them, touch them, possess them.
"You're quiet all of the sudden," said Huxley.
"I'm focused. There is a difference," Akan replied.
"Either way, your tongue has surprisingly stopped moving. Speaking of which, you really must stop chewing with your mouth open, else everyone will know you still have a tongue, contrary to everything we tell them."
"Has anyone noticed?"
"Virginia made mention last night. I had to make something up on the spot because of you."
"Fortunately, that's your strength, Huxley. You can make anyone believe anything. Just try not to get too involved with the girl, would you?"
"I'm afraid I can't make any promises, my friend. She simply adores me, and I'd be amiss to let those affections go unacknowledged and unappreciated. I'm a gentleman, after all."
"If you say so. I just don't want a repeat of the incident with the slave trader's daughter in Cape Coast."
"Fair enough, old friend. I believe I can manage myself for your sake."
Akan paused and stood listening intently at the world around him, searching for a particularly flat frequency, as if some spot was void of all the trees that ordinarily sent sound bouncing straight back to him. In a place such as this, where vision does little good when one can see no further than the mass of trees directly in front of him, sometimes the other senses are all that one can count on, and at this particular moment, Akan had placed all his faith in his hearing--or the absence thereof.
"This way," said the giant, pointing toward what was soon revealed to be a massive outcrop of rock, seemingly hiding something from plain sight. Akan scrambled up the loosened jagged slope with Huxley close behind him.
"Here you are, Huxley. Here is your lake."
Huxley reached the summit and was immediately taken aback by the reflection of the once-hidden sunlight, bounding from the still surface of a vast, silvery lake. They stayed there for several moments, staring out across the picturesque water, before descending the opposite bank of the hill.
"So, shall you name this place, too?"
"No, my old friend," said Huxley. "With any luck, no one will ever find this place. Don't stop now. Lead on! I want to see what they look like when they are first found."
With a nod, Akan wound his way to the shore, Huxley nipping at his heels the entire way like a child anxious for Christmas morning.
"Look at this place," Huxley remarked. "See how perfectly rounded the lake is? Do you see the shape of the whole thing?"
"Yes, what of it?"
"It's a crater, my friend. A point of impact where rain collected for millions of years, serving as a basin."
"The impact of what?"
"A falling star. A meteor."
Something caught Huxley's eye along the shore, something that flashed just beneath the dirt at his feet. He knelt and began digging with his hands, scooping away muddy earth that left its traces beneath his fingernails. The object of his desire firmly within his grasp, he pulled it free from the resting place the land had provided and shook it several times in the waters of the lake to rinse away the excess dirt. Then, atop the flattened palm of his hand, like some crowned jewel, he held it aloft for Akan to see. It was a gemstone--cloudy on the surface and dark on the surface. This was one of the rarest forms of gem in the world. This was a black diamond.
"And this--" said Huxley, "--this is stardust."
"You're quiet all of the sudden," said Huxley.
"I'm focused. There is a difference," Akan replied.
"Either way, your tongue has surprisingly stopped moving. Speaking of which, you really must stop chewing with your mouth open, else everyone will know you still have a tongue, contrary to everything we tell them."
"Has anyone noticed?"
"Virginia made mention last night. I had to make something up on the spot because of you."
"Fortunately, that's your strength, Huxley. You can make anyone believe anything. Just try not to get too involved with the girl, would you?"
"I'm afraid I can't make any promises, my friend. She simply adores me, and I'd be amiss to let those affections go unacknowledged and unappreciated. I'm a gentleman, after all."
"If you say so. I just don't want a repeat of the incident with the slave trader's daughter in Cape Coast."
"Fair enough, old friend. I believe I can manage myself for your sake."
Akan paused and stood listening intently at the world around him, searching for a particularly flat frequency, as if some spot was void of all the trees that ordinarily sent sound bouncing straight back to him. In a place such as this, where vision does little good when one can see no further than the mass of trees directly in front of him, sometimes the other senses are all that one can count on, and at this particular moment, Akan had placed all his faith in his hearing--or the absence thereof.
"This way," said the giant, pointing toward what was soon revealed to be a massive outcrop of rock, seemingly hiding something from plain sight. Akan scrambled up the loosened jagged slope with Huxley close behind him.
"Here you are, Huxley. Here is your lake."
Huxley reached the summit and was immediately taken aback by the reflection of the once-hidden sunlight, bounding from the still surface of a vast, silvery lake. They stayed there for several moments, staring out across the picturesque water, before descending the opposite bank of the hill.
"So, shall you name this place, too?"
"No, my old friend," said Huxley. "With any luck, no one will ever find this place. Don't stop now. Lead on! I want to see what they look like when they are first found."
With a nod, Akan wound his way to the shore, Huxley nipping at his heels the entire way like a child anxious for Christmas morning.
"Look at this place," Huxley remarked. "See how perfectly rounded the lake is? Do you see the shape of the whole thing?"
"Yes, what of it?"
"It's a crater, my friend. A point of impact where rain collected for millions of years, serving as a basin."
"The impact of what?"
"A falling star. A meteor."
Something caught Huxley's eye along the shore, something that flashed just beneath the dirt at his feet. He knelt and began digging with his hands, scooping away muddy earth that left its traces beneath his fingernails. The object of his desire firmly within his grasp, he pulled it free from the resting place the land had provided and shook it several times in the waters of the lake to rinse away the excess dirt. Then, atop the flattened palm of his hand, like some crowned jewel, he held it aloft for Akan to see. It was a gemstone--cloudy on the surface and dark on the surface. This was one of the rarest forms of gem in the world. This was a black diamond.
"And this--" said Huxley, "--this is stardust."
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