Klondike Nuggets, and How Two Boys Secured Them

by Edward Sylvester Ellis

CHAPTER XVII.

A GOLDEN HARVEST.

Tim McCabe and the boys wrought steadily through the rest of the day and the following two days. Inasmuch as the summer sun in the Klondike region does not thaw the soil to a greater depth than two feet, it was necessary to pile wood upon the earth and set it afire. As this gradually dissolved the frozen ground, the refuse dirt was cleared away, so as to reach paying earth or gravel. The results for a time were disappointing. The gold-hunters secured a good deal of yellow grains or dust, and ordinarily would have been satisfied, but naturally they were greedy for more.

There came times of discouragement, when the boys began to doubt the truth of the wonderful stories that had reached them from the Klondike region, or they thought that if perchance the reports were true, they themselves and their friends had not hit upon a productive spot. Tim, when appealed to, had little to say, but it was of a hopeful nature. It would have been unnatural had he not been absorbed in the work in hand.

That there was gold was undeniable, for the evidence was continually before them, but the question was whether it was to be found in paying quantities upon their claim. At the close of the second day all they had gathered was not worth ten dollars.

But the harvest rewarded them on the third day. Tim was working hard and silently, when he suddenly leaped to his feet, flung down his pick, and hurling his cap in the air, began dancing a jig and singing an Irish ditty. The boys looked at him in amazement, wondering whether he had bidden good-by to his senses.

"Do ye obsarve that beauty?" he asked, stopping short and holding up a yellow nugget as large as the one the boys had taken from the brook several days before. Roswell and Frank hurried up to him and examined the prize. There could be no doubt that it was virgin gold and worth several hundred dollars.

Twenty minutes later it was Roswell's turn to hurrah, for he came upon one almost as large. And he did hurrah, too, and his friends joined in with a vigor that could not be criticised. Congratulating one another, the three paused but a few minutes to inspect the finds, when they were digging harder than ever.

"I think it is my turn," remarked Frank; "you fellows are becoming so proud, that if I don't find—by George, I have found it!"

Incredible as it seemed, it was true, and Frank's prize was larger than any of the others. Instantly they were at work again, glowing with hope and delight. No more nuggets were taken out that day, but the gravel revealed greater richness than at any time before.