Now they skirted sheer, precipitous descents, where one misstep would mean almost certain death. Again they plunged into heavy woodland where wild flowers grew in a riot of color, showing vivid faces even in the crevices of the rocks.
“What I like about this country,” said Helen, delighted, “is that you can have both summer and winter at once. Here the air is as mild and balmy as a southern spring, while up there—” She did not finish the sentence, but instead, waved her hand toward the shining crest of Snow Mountain, dazzling in the light of the brilliant northern sun.
“It is a beautiful country,” agreed Ellen. “We love it, Mary and I, even though it has not been very kind to us.”
It was quite a long climb, and both Helen and Ruth were considerably winded by the time they reached the little shack far up on the side of the mountain which marked the location of the Chase mine.
They found Mary and the old miners hard at work near the choked-up mouth of the mine. They were busy digging out débris with pickax and shovel.
They had made good progress, but it seemed to both Ruth and Helen that there was still a discouragingly long way to go before the mouth of the mine could be opened and the actual work of gold-digging continued.
Mary’s eyes brightened when she saw them and she came toward her new friends with hands outstretched.
“You look tired,” she said. “It was a long climb, wasn’t it?”
They answered that it was, and then Mary introduced the three old miners. They came forward in a rather embarrassed group, a trio of gnarled and weatherbeaten old fellows who had spent a lifetime looking for a fortune that never materialized.
They were self-conscious and shy in conversation with Helen and Ruth and seemed glad when they were able to return to their tedious and discouraging labor.