Frank shook his head.
“That is a fairly rich piece of ore too,” said Murray. “Don’t you see those little black grains running through the quartz?”
“No. These are all standing still,” said Frank, laughing.
“Facetious, eh?” said Murray, smiling. “Well, those black grains are tin.”
“Oh, they do get tin somewhere up the river,” said Frank, eagerly; “but it isn’t a bit like this.”
“But it is like what this would be if it were smelted, young gentleman,” cried Murray; “and, judging from appearances, I should say that the rajah could get tin enough in these hills to make him as wealthy as he likes.”
“He ought to be satisfied, then, with what you have done, uncle,” said Ned.
“But he will not be, my boy. He will not care to set up works, and he’ll want us to try again for something better. There, we’ll take our specimens to show to Mr Braine, and start back now. Give me the gun, and I’ll go in the centre, and you two shall walk on either side of me, say fifty yards or so distant. You may beat up some specimens, and give me a better chance. Ask the men to keep about a hundred yards behind us.”
Frank went and spoke to the men, and told them what was about to be done, and they rose, took their spears and waited while the boys started off to right and left, Murray waiting till they had guessed their distances, and then at his signal, a low whistle, the start was made for the river, down the steep slope, and bearing off so as to leave their outward track on their left.
It was a laborious descent, and Ned found the path he had to follow encumbered by loose gray stones, and full of gins and traps, in the shape of narrow cracks in the rock, and bramble-like canes ever ready to trip him up. However, fortunately, the trees and bushes were pretty open on that dry hill-side, and he could pick his way. But there was no shot, and he saw no sign of bird or reptile; only a few butterflies which started up from among the dry herbage, and went flapping away among the trees.