Robinson made no direct reply. “George,” said he thoughtfully, “how far have you got toward your thousand pounds?”
“Oh, Tom! don't ask me, don't remind me! How can I ever make it? No market within a thousand miles of any place in this confounded country! Forced to boil down sheep into tallow and sell them for the price of a wild duck! I have left my Susan, and I have lost her. Oh, why did you remind me?”
“So much for the farming lay. Don't you be down-hearted, there's better cards in the pack than the five of spades; and the farther I go and the more I see of this country the surer I am. There is a good day coming for you and me. Listen, George. When I shut my eyes for a moment now where I stand, and then open them—I'm in California.”
“Dreaming?”
“No, wide awake—wider than you are now. George, look at these hills; you could not tell them from the golden range of California.. But that is not all; when you look into them you find they are made of the same stuff, too—granite, mica and quartz. Now don't you be cross.”
“No! no! why should I? Show me,” said George, trying out of kindheartedness to take an interest in this subject, which had so often wearied him.
“Well, here are two of them. That great dark bit out there is mica, and all this that runs in a vein like is quartz. Quartz and mica are the natural home of gold; and some gold is to be found at home still, but the main of it has been washed out and scattered like seed all over the neighboring clays. You see, George, the world is a thousand times older than most folks think, and water has been working upon gold thousands and thousands of years before ever a man stood upon the earth, ay or a dog either, Carlo, for as wise as you look squatting out there thinking of nothing and pretending to be thinking of everything.”
“Well, drop gold,” said George, “and tell me what this is,” and he handed Robinson a small fossil.
Robinson eyed it with wonder and interest. “Where on earth did you find this?”
“Hard by; what is it?”