"Hands up on me!" answered the man, with a grin. "Hope ye win out!"
The boys soon discovered that Brosberry's Landing consisted of nothing more than a general store, two gambling halls, and a motley collection of shanties and tents, the latter used by men bound for the West.
"I must say, I don't like it much here," was Mark's comment, after a walk around. "Let us move towards Independence. Old man Spat said he was going over."
"Then let us follow Spat."
They had struck up an acquaintance with Ira Spat on the steamboat. He was from Maine, tall, thin, and leathery, having spent much of his time as a lumberman on the Penobscot. He was rough but good-hearted, and the boys liked him.
"This air spot don't suit me wuth shucks," said Ira Spat. "I'm a-goin' to find somethin' better," and he started for Independence on foot, with a stick and a big carpetbag over his shoulder. The boys followed, taking turns at riding Darling, who seemed to enjoy being on terra firma once more.
It was not long before they came upon a flat stretch of prairie land, with an occasional patch of timber and a small stream. Here and there folks were camping out, and as they advanced the encampments became thicker, until the scene was a decidedly animated one.
"There must be thousands of folks here!" exclaimed Mark. "And all bound for California, too! Bob, we shan't lack for company!"
Some of the gold hunters had little or nothing, while others had nearly the whole of their household goods. Wagons and carts were numerous and so were horses, mules, and cows. Many of the emigrants—for they were nothing else—had their families with them, resolute-looking wives and children of all sizes and dispositions. One man had three old-maid daughters with him, while in another gathering there was a baby but four months old.
"That youngster is going to hunt gold early," said Bob, after meeting the woman with the baby. The infant was the talk of the camp, and every woman there wanted to hold it and pet it.