“It would be madness to start to-night.”
“Stark. Couldn’t get loaded up before dark, and then it’ll be like pitch. Let’s cut some poles for punting and a mast to make a bit of sail if we like, and then I think we may say that we have got our job well done, ready for loading up and starting in the morning.”
“Yes,” said Abel, who seemed little the worse for his last mishap; “it was better to make a good job of the raft.”
“And that we’ve done,” said the Cornishman.
The poles were cut, trimmed, and laid upon the deck, which had been finished after launching; and now, as they examined their work, all were satisfied that it could not have been done better in the time, for as it lay in the clear water, swinging by a rope secured to a pine-stump, all felt that it would easily bear the party, their sledges and stores; and the pity seemed to be that it could not be used for the whole of their journey.
“Who knows? Perhaps it may.”
There was an hour’s daylight yet, and this was utilised down on the sandy shore of the stream which ran into the lake hard by.
It was the first trial, and no little interest was felt as every man waded into the icy cold water, pannikin in hand, to scoop the sand aside and then get a tinful from as deep down as they could.
This was washed and watched beneath the water, the stones thrown out, and washed again, till only a little sand remained, and this was carefully examined.
“Gold!” cried Dallas excitedly; and this was eagerly responded to by the others, for in every pan there was some of the precious metal, but such tiny grains that it was decided that a halt would be useless there.