"Yes, it did, the last I knew of it; but nothing ever came of it, except that there have been two men there to-day, preparing to do this season's assessment work. You can never tell, you know, about a gold mine, for most of them have just been 'holes full of hope,' and the hope usually leaked out sooner or later."
Chuck halloed from up the trail to get under way, or they would never reach the top by dark.
"Going to camp up in the Park to-night, I presume?" asked the miner.
"Yes, if we can make it," replied Mr. Allen. "Have you been up to the top lately?" "Yes, I was up yesterday, and it's a grand sight at this season of the year. The Maraposa lilies are blooming in great profusion, and the spring is running a fine little stream. I had a very pleasant surprise up there, too. Years ago there was a large herd of deer which lived in that park, but they were supposedly all killed off. Yesterday, about this time, as I sat on a dead log just back from the spring, quietly thinking over some of the memories of old times when I had hunted on that very ground, I heard the dry twigs snap, and, turning, I saw a doe and two tiny, spotted fawns cross the park and enter the timber at the other side. If you build a fire to-night you may get a glimpse of them."
"I'm coming to have a long talk with you some of these days," called
Willis as they started off.
At last the entrance to the Park was reached, and they came upon a stretch of level ground. The entire country changed. Instead of the stony tallus of the canyon, there was soft, black soil under foot. Instead of the great spruces and firs scenting the air, there were only tall, stately aspens on every side, their leafy tops lost in the deepening shadows. Instead of the ground cedar and berry bushes, wild grass grew in rank profusion. The air was tinged with a faint fragrance, and somewhere in the distance came the sound of gently-splashing waters, "Like a voice half-sobbing and half-laughing under the shadows."
The party halted and turned to the right of the trail, where a great, lone pine tree stood on a little rise of ground, directly above the tiny spring. This was to be the camping spot for the night. Packs were quickly removed and unfolded, dry sticks gathered for the fire, and sweet-scented balsam boughs were cut and brought to the tree. One generous bed was made, big enough for all, close in front of the camp-fire. Mr. Allen cleaned and filled his small acetylene lamp—"In case of need," he said. The guns were stacked in a handy place and supper operations gotten under way.
"It sure does smell awfully good up here," began Phil. "I wish we had gotten here before dark—I'd like to have had a little look around before I went to sleep. Who knows but we may be sleeping ten yards from a bear's den. We are up in a real wilderness, now!"
"Bears, your grandmother!" snorted Ham, as he deftly opened a can of baked beans with his pocket knife. "A lot of great big bare spots is about all you could find. Say, Phil, on the dead square, what would you do, now, if a black bear would sneak down here to-night and crawl into bed with you?" "I'd say, 'Mr. Bear, if you want a real sweet, tender morsel that's easily digested, just help yourself to that little imported Ham over there.'" A roar of laughter went up from the others.
Chuck was philosophizing about the value of gathering food while it was yet day, as he sat stowing away his quart of fresh raspberries.