Nevada. Ah! old grizzly and—woolly.
Jube. Dat's me to a har.
Nevada. And little pigtail.
Win-Kye. Piggee tail velly well, John; alle same you, John?
Nevada. I'm hungry and tired, Tom: give me a pick.
Tom. Not to-night, old friend: you shall go to my ranch, and to-morrow—
Nevada. To-morrow. (Looks about wildly. All draw away from him. Music pianissimo.) To-morrow I must go back, back along the ravine, three miles, then climb the bowlders, to where that fallen giant lies across the stream; over it to the gorge a mile beyond, and then—and then I'm lost—straight ahead to the right, to the left, again and again, no trail, no trace; and yet 'tis there, ever before my eyes, the wealth of a kingdom, the jewel of Nevada, lost to me forever. (Covers his face with his hands.)
Tom. Ah! if we could only keep him from that lost mine.
Silas. What a wreck! But he's not the first man crazed by gold.
Nevada. Far off, a mother and her child wait anxiously for my coming,—wait for the gold I promised them. I left the little one sleeping in her cradle. Oh! when shall I see my little child again? (Music stops.)