A GOLDEN HARVEST.
Tim McCabe and the boys wrought steadily through the rest of the day
and the following two days. Inasmuch as the summer sun in the Klondike
region does not thaw the soil to a greater depth than two feet, it was
necessary to pile wood upon the earth and set it afire. As this
gradually dissolved the frozen ground, the refuse dirt was cleared
away, so as to reach paying earth or gravel. The results for a time
were disappointing. The gold-hunters secured a good deal of yellow
grains or dust, and ordinarily would have been satisfied, but naturally
they were greedy for more.
There came times of discouragement, when the boys began to doubt the
truth of the wonderful stories that had reached them from the Klondike
region, or they thought that if perchance the reports were true, they
themselves and their friends had not hit upon a productive spot. Tim,
when appealed to, had little to say, but it was of a hopeful nature. It
would have been unnatural had he not been absorbed in the work in hand.
That there was gold was undeniable, for the evidence was continually
before them, but the question was whether it was to be found in paying
quantities upon their claim. At the close of the second day all they
had gathered was not worth ten dollars.
But the harvest rewarded them on the third day. Tim was working hard
and silently, when he suddenly leaped to his feet, flung down his pick,
and hurling his cap in the air, began dancing a jig and singing an
Irish ditty. The boys looked at him in amazement, wondering whether he
had bidden good-by to his senses.
"Do ye obsarve that beauty?" he asked, stopping short and holding up a
yellow nugget as large as the one the boys had taken from the brook
several days before. Roswell and Frank hurried up to him and examined
the prize. There could be no doubt that it was virgin gold and worth
several hundred dollars.
Twenty minutes later it was Roswell's turn to hurrah, for he came upon
one almost as large. And he did hurrah, too, and his friends joined in
with a vigor that could not be criticised. Congratulating one another,
the three paused but a few minutes to inspect the finds, when they were
digging harder than ever.
"I think it is my turn," remarked Frank; "you fellows are becoming so
proud, that if I don't find--by George, _I have found it_!"
Incredible as it seemed, it was true, and Frank's prize was larger than
any of the others. Instantly they were at work again, glowing with hope
and delight. No more nuggets were taken out that day, but the gravel
revealed greater richness than at any time before.
Jeff Graham put in an appearance while they were eating supper, and, to
the surprise of all, he was riding a tough little burro, which he had
bought at Dawson for five hundred dollars. His eyes sparkled when he
learned what had been done during his absence, but he quietly remarked,
"I knowed it," and having turned his animal loose, after unloading him,
he asked for the particulars.
Although it was quite cold, the four remained seated on the bowlders
outside of their primitive dwelling, the men smoking their pipes and
discussing the wonderful success they had had, and the still greater
that was fairly within their grasp.
"We're not so much alone as I thought," remarked Jeff, "for there are
fifty miners to the east and north, and some of them ain't far from
where we've staked out our claim, and more are coming."
"They can't interfere with us?" was the inquiring remark of Roswell.
"Not much. As a rule, folks don't file their claims till they've struck
onto a spot where the yaller stuff shows; but I've done both, 'cause I
was sartin that we'd hit it rich. If anybody tried to jump our claim,
the first thing I'd do would be to shoot him; then I'd turn him over to
the mounted police that are looking after things all through this
country."
"Ye mane that ye'd turn over what was lift of his remains," suggested
Tim gravely.
"It would amount to that. Things are in better shape here than they was
in the old times in Californy, where a man had to fight for what he
had, and then he wasn't always able to keep it."
"What do you intend to do with the burro?" asked Frank.
"Let him run loose till we need him. He brought a purty good load of
such things as we want, and I'm hoping he'll have another kind of load
to take back," was the significant reply of the old miner.
This was the nearest Jeff came to particulars. His natural reserve as
to what he had done and concerning his plans for the future prevented
any further enlightenment. The fact that they had neighbors at no great
distance was both pleasing and displeasing. Despite the assurance of
their leader, there was some misgiving that when the richness of the
find became known an attempt would be made to rob them. Gold will
incite many men to commit any crime, and with the vast recesses of the
Rocky Mountain spur behind them, the criminals might be ready to take
desperate chances.
It was hardly light the next morning when the party were at it again.
The pan or hand method of washing the gold is so slow and laborious
that with the help and superintendence of Jeff a "rocker" was set up.
This was a box about three feet long and two wide, made in two parts.
The upper part was shallow, with a strong sheet-iron bottom perforated
with quarter-inch holes. In the middle of the other part of the box was
an inclined shelf, which sloped downward for six or eight inches at the
lower end. Over this was placed a piece of heavy woollen blanket, the
whole being mounted upon two rockers, like those of an ordinary child's
cradle. These were rested on two strong blocks of wood to permit of
their being rocked readily.
This device was placed beside the running stream. As the pay dirt was
shovelled into the upper shallow box, one of the party rocked it with
one hand while with the other he ladled water. The fine particles with
the gold fell through the holes upon the blanket, which held the gold,
while the sand and other matter glided over it to the bottom of the
box, which was so inclined that what passed through was washed down and
finally out of the box. Thin slats were fixed across the bottom of the
box, with mercury behind them, to catch such particles of gold as
escaped the blanket.
The stuff dug up by our friends was so nuggety that many lumps remained
in the upper box, where they were detained by their weight, while the
lighter stuff passed through, and the smaller lumps were held by a
deeper slat at the further end of the bottom of the box. When the
blanket became surcharged with wealth it was removed and rinsed in a
barrel of water, the particles amalgamating with the mercury in the
bottom of the barrel.
Sluicing requires plenty of running water with considerable fall, and
is two or three times as rapid as the method just described, but since
it was not adopted by our friends, a description need not be given.
At the end of a week Jeff, with the help of his companions, made a
careful estimate of the nuggets and sand which they had gathered and
stowed away in the cavern where they slept and took their meals. As
nearly as they could figure it out the gold which they had collected
was worth not quite one hundred thousand dollars--very fair wages, it
will be conceded, for six days' work by two men and two boys. On Sunday
they conscientiously abstained from labor, though it can hardly be said
that their thoughts were elsewhere.
Since one hundred thousand dollars in gold weighs in the neighborhood
of four hundred pounds, it will be seen that the party had already
accumulated a good load to be distributed among themselves. It may have
been that the expectation of this result caused Jeff to bring the burro
back, for with his help it would not be hard to carry double the
amount, especially as everything else would be left behind.
To the surprise of his friends, Jeff announced that it was necessary
for him to make another visit to Dawson City. It was important business
that called him thither, but he gave no hint of its nature. He hoped to
be back within two or three days, and he departed on foot, leaving the
animal to recuperate, and, as he grimly added, "make himself strong
enough to carry a good load to town."
Jeff left early in the morning. The afternoon was about half gone, when
Tim with an expression of anxious concern announced that he had just
remembered something which required him to go to Dawson without an
hour's delay.
"It's queer that I didn't think of the same while Jiff was here," he
said, "so that he might have enj'yed the plisure of me society, but it
won't be hard for me to find him after I git there. Ye byes wont be
scared of being lift to yersilves fur a few days?" he asked with so
much earnestness that they hastened to assure him he need have no
misgivings on that point.
"We shall keep hard at it while you are away, but since Jeff is also
absent we shall be lonely."
"Luk fur me very soon. I'll advise Jiff to make ye an extra allowance
for yer wurruk while him and me is doing nothing."
Two hours after the departure of McCabe, Frank, who was working the
rocker while his chum was shovelling in the dirt, suddenly stopped,
with expanding eyes.
"I have just thought what Tim's business is at Dawson."
[Illustration: "I HAVE JUST THOUGHT WHAT TIM'S BUSINESS IS AT DAWSON,"
SAID FRANK.]
"What is it?"
"It is his longing for drink. He has gone on a spree, taking one of his
nuggets with him to pay the cost. Jeff will be sure to run across him,
and then there will be music."