"South Park, boys—and Tarryall's in sight!"
"Hooray!" cheered everybody, as the news spread back from mouth to mouth and ear to ear.
"Gwan, Jenny!" bade George, clapping her on the gaunt flank; and driving her, he and Terry limped faster.
Because they were boys they had been well treated, on the way over, but now when new diggin's were so close at hand they might expect no favors. Every party must rustle for itself.
"Jenny! Gwan! Do you want to be left? Gwan! Hep with you!"
"Hep with you!" echoed Terry.
Jenny did her best; before and behind, the other outfits were doing their very best—crashing recklessly through the brush and timber and sliding and tumbling over the rocks. The head of the procession had disappeared over another little rise—perhaps was already in and at work locating the best pound-a-day claims!
"Jenny! Jenny! Yip! Gwan!" urged George and Terry. And with their rivals treading on their heels they, too, mounted the little rise, gained the top, and now in the clear could gaze anxiously beyond.
"I see it! I see the camp!" exclaimed Terry.
"So do I. But, whew! this is a big place, isn't it?" puffed George.