"I think I'll make a rocker," said Gabe, at length. "We can do it faster then, and find out if this is going to pay."
"What's a rocker?" asked Will.
"I'll show you."
From some pieces of a box, in which some of their camp stuff was packed, Gabe constructed a sort of rude cradle, on rockers. The bottom of the box, which was rather shallow, was covered with a number of cross sticks, nailed to it like the cleats on a gangplank.
The box was filled with gravel and water. The water ran out of the lower end, carrying most of the dirt and gravel with it. The gold, being heavier, settled to the bottom, and was prevented from flowing away by the cleats. After about two hours of this work or "rocking," so called because the cradle is rocked from side to side, Gabe gathered from the box nearly a handful of pure gold grains.
"There! What do you think of that?" exclaimed Jed. "Have we struck a bonanza or not?"
"I can't tell yet," replied Mr. Harrison cautiously. "It may peter out any minute, but it's good so far."
The miner's fears were realized. As the day wore on the result of the various "clean-ups" was less and less, until, after the cradle had been filled several times, the result was only a mere pinch of gold.
"Let's dig over a wider space," suggested Jed.
"No," said the miner, "it's just as I thought, there was only a small deposit of gold there, and we've cleaned it up."