Their elders only smiled on perceiving their enthusiasm, warning them, however, not to go close to the cliffs; and hardly had the word been spoken when, as if to emphasize the warning, a mass of crumbling rock fell with a roar just behind them.
Two or three miles of this kind of travelling brought them to Al King's tent, which stood to the left of the stream on a small level plot. On the opposite side a rocky wall rose straight from the water's edge a hundred feet and cut off all view, so that it seemed to the boys a rather dreary spot. Yet here, as they presently learned, one lone man had passed the entire winter, with no better shelter than a tent.
This man was the recorder of the district, Tom Moore by name, a grizzled veteran of many a hard campaign of mining and prospecting. His tent was near that of Al King. On a tree before it had been nailed a slab from a box, bearing the inscription, "Recorder, Last Chance Mining District, T. Moore."
The Bradfords received a hearty welcome from Al King and the recorder, the latter, by reason of his long exile, taking especial delight in the sight of new faces. King's fine dog "Bess" was even more demonstrative in her welcome than the two men, and bounded from one to another of the little group, licking their hands and receiving their caresses.
In company with Moore and King, who volunteered to guide them, they passed the mouth of Shorty Creek,—so named from the Indian who discovered gold there,—a small brook flowing in from the left. Neither of the guides thought it worth while to stop there, for the best claims were already taken. They believed that Alder Creek, a larger tributary above on the same side, now offered the better chance, and the Bradfords were quite willing to take their advice, since there appeared no motive for deception. Up Alder Creek they accordingly went, through a valley wider and less rugged than the Kah Sha gorge and leading toward a shapely mountain about two miles away, where the valley divided, that to the right being known as Union Gulch.
Here they found a discovery claim, located the previous year by the miner who first found gold on that creek. By right of discovery he had claimed five hundred feet of the valley, or twice the length of an ordinary claim, and naturally he had chosen what he believed to be the most promising spot. The stake which marked the upper end of his claim was the stump of a poplar tree which had been cut off about five feet from the ground. It stood on the bank of Alder Creek just above its junction with Union Gulch. For a foot below the top it had been squared with an axe, and on the smooth white wood was written in pencil, "Discovery Claim, five hundred feet, down stream. J. Barry, September 4, 1897." There was also a stake which marked the lower end of the claim.
Uncle Will looked the ground over carefully. Below Union Gulch was a level expanse of gravel ten feet higher than the stream and covered with snow except along the edge of the bank. This gravel rested upon solid rock at about the level of the water. He took the gold-pan and set out, with Mr. Bradford, the recorder, and King, on a tour of investigation, bidding the boys cut stakes similar to those on the discovery claim. David and Roly would have preferred to go with their elders, but being accustomed to obey orders without question they set off at once on the less romantic quest for straight young poplars. Occasionally, however, they paused to watch the gold-seekers down the valley.
"Presently some little yellow specks were uncovered"