A little more washing, and at the bottom of the dish lay a dozen flakes of gold, with here and there a grain of sand.
“We must go higher up,” said the bearded man. “This light stuff has been carried over a bar, maybe, and the heavier gold has been left behind.”
Slowly and with difficulty they worked their way along the bank of the creek, till at last they came to a gorge whose rocky sides stood like mighty walls on either side.
The gold-seekers were wading up to their waists in water, and the Bush Robin was fluttering round them as they moved slowly up the stream. Expecting to find the water deeper in the gorge, the man in front went carefully. The rocky sides were full of crevices and little ledges, on one of which, low down upon the water, the little Robin perched.
The man reached forward and placed his hand upon the ledge on which the bird was perched; the Bush Robin fluttered overhead, and then the man gave a cry of surprise. His hand had rested on a layer of small nuggets and golden sand.
“We’ve got it, Moonlight! There’s fully a couple of ounces on this ledge alone.”
The bearded man splashed through the water, and looked eagerly at the gold lying just above the water-line.
“My boy, where there’s that much on a ledge there’ll be hundreds of ounces in the creek.”
He rapidly pushed ahead, examining the crevices of the rock, above and below the water-line.
“It’s here in stacks,” he exclaimed, “only waiting to be scraped out with the blade of a knife.”