"Glory be, we just thought he was an ordinary prospector, when we asked him to share our lunch! And so he is the man that started all this mad rush for California gold," and Bud's eyes turned curiously in the direction of the stranger. "Well, he sure don't look as if the gold had done him much good."
"That's usually th' way on it," replied Ham. "Th' feller what finds it only gits th' first smell, then 'long comes some other feller an' gobbles it all up, leavin' th' finder nuthin' but th' glory."
"Maybe we can get him to tell us the story of how he found the gold," and Bud's face lighted up. "I'd like to hear it from his own lips."
"Wal," grinned Ham, "jest tell him that he's 'bout th' most abused man in all Californy, an', I reckon, he'll open his heart tew you. He's pow'ful sore over everybudy else but he a-gettin' th' gold, an' he th' discoverer."
"Maybe the hot coffee will do as well," laughed Bud, as he hurried back to his guest.
The hot coffee, possibly even more the contagion of the joyous enthusiasm of the two youths, did, indeed, seem to act like a charm on Marshall's taciturn and soured disposition; for, before the meal was half over, he was talking freely of his mining ventures with Thure and Bud; and it needed but a few well-directed inquiries to bring the desired story from his willing lips.
"How did I happen to discover the gold?" he began, as if the boys had asked him directly for the story, which they had not. "Well, it all came about in this way," and he settled himself into a comfortable position. "In May, 1847, Captain Sutter sent me up the American River to look for a good site for a sawmill that he wished me to build for him; and, after a number of days of fruitless search, I found what looked like the exact spot I was hunting for on the South Fork of the American about forty-five miles from Sutter's Fort. Captain Sutter, you may be sure, was well pleased when I told him of my success; and we entered into a partnership, according to which I was to build the mill and he was to find provisions, tools, teams, and pay a part of the men's wages; and in August, everything being ready, I started out with six men and two wagons loaded with the tools and provisions. We first put up log houses in which to live; for we expected to remain there all winter. But this was done in no time for the men were great with the ax. Then we cut timber and fell to work hewing it for the framework of the mill and to building the dam, which, with the help of about forty Indians, who had gathered around us in great numbers, we put up in a kind of a way in four weeks. When the mill was nearly completed, it was my custom every evening after the men had quit work to raise the gate in the mill-race and allow the water to run all night, in order to wash as much sand and gravel as possible out of the race during the night; and in the morning, while the men were getting breakfast, I would go down and shut the gate and walk along the race to see where the work needed to be done for the day.
"One clear cold morning in January—I shall never forget that morning. I can see it all as I sit here—the nearly completed mill, the slopes of the surrounding tree-covered hills, the water pouring over the dam, the mill-race, a foot or so of water still rushing along over its bottom—I can see it all—"
Marshall paused, his eyes staring straight in front of him, a peculiar, dreamy, wild look in them that sent uncanny chills to the hearts of both boys as long as it lasted. What was he seeing? Visions?—Visions of what that morning meant to a gold-mad world?
"No, I can never forget that January morning," Marshall resumed, after perhaps a minute, the normal look again coming back into his eyes; "for on that morning I found the gold that has set the world crazy and proven little more than a curse to me," and a gloomy bitter look clouded his face.