“’Sh! thar he goes.”
From his high elevation came the faint sound of his peculiar bark, and then the brute turned about, and was immediately lost to view.
“Thar’s no tellin’ whar he’ll next turn up,” said Stebbins, as the three moved forward again.
“No; and I don’t believe when we meet him again, that we’ll get off so easy as before,” replied Black Tom.
The gold-hunters were now in a sort of deep cañon or rent in the mountain, through which ran a small stream of icy-clear water. It was this same rivulet that had displayed the golden particles to old Stebbins, but it was at a point higher up, before it entered into this wild region, and it was now the intention of the three to follow up the stream for a considerable distance, searching it carefully for the same precious metal that had drawn them hither.
In prospecting thus, it was evident that it was necessary to keep a good look-out; and, as Teddy manifested such an appreciation of the nameless brute, that task was deputized to him, while the others were to scrutinize the bed of the small stream for what had caused them to halt in this place.
For several hours the party made their way up the tiny brook without discovering the first indications of gold; yet, they were not discouraged by the fact, for they knew there was plenty of it in the neighborhood.
They had almost reached the spot where they had seen it a few months before, when Stebbins, who was slightly in advance halted, and snuffed the air with the manner of one who scented something suspicious.
“What is it?” asked Black Tom, failing to understand what it meant.
“We’re near something dead—hello!”