“And won’t you wash for gold at all?” said Esau, in a disappointed tone of voice.
“No, nor yet mention it,” said Gunson, firmly. “To all intents and purposes there is no gold here whatever. We are settlers, and we are going to hold this spot. You see, there is our brand on that tree.”
As he spoke he pointed to the mark we had cut on the great fir-tree hard by, and I could not help a shudder as I recollected the events of that day.
The morning passed, and the afternoon came without our hearing a sound but those made by the birds and squirrels, and after partaking of a meal we began to look anxiously for the night as the time of danger; but we saw the ruddy blaze of light die out on snow-topped peaks, and then the pale stars begin to appear.
“This place is wonderfully like Switzerland in parts,” said Gunson, as we sat near the fire always on the qui vive for danger; and in a low voice he chatted to us till it was quite night, and the sky was a blaze of stars.
“I think we may sleep in peace to-night,” said Gunson, and he was a true prophet, for, though I woke twice with a start of fear, the noise which had wakened me was only caused by Quong going to throw some wood upon the fire, which he never suffered to die out, but coaxed on so as to have a plentiful heap of hot ashes in which to bake.
Two days passed in peace, and then a third, with the inaction telling upon us all. For we were constantly on the strain, and the slightest sound suggested the coming of an enemy.
“You see we cannot stir,” Gunson said to me. “We must keep together. If one of us played spy and reconnoitred, the chances are that the enemy would come while we were away.”
“But what does Quong say?” I asked. “He went down the stream last night.”
“That there are thirty parties between here and the river, and that means some of them are new-comers, making their way up here before long. To-morrow we shall have to send him to the Fort to beg for food.”