“Farther on,” said Dallas excitedly; “this is only the edge of the golden land, but here is proof that we are going right.”
“Yes,” said the big Cornishman; “but I don’t rest till we can shovel it up like gravel from a pit.”
Darkness put an end to their search, and once more the fire was quenched, and in silence they sought the shelter of the great tree, placed their arms ready, rolled themselves in their blankets, and were soon asleep.
It seemed as if they had only just lain down when one of the men shouted, “Morning!”
“Hooray!” cried the big Cornishman. “Who’s going to face the cold, and have a dip in the lake?”
Every one but Abel, who hung back.
“Don’t you feel well enough to come?” said Dallas anxiously.
“Yes, but some one ought to light the fire and set the billy to boil.”
“Here! Hi! All of you,” yelled the big Cornishman, who had gone on. “Quick!”
All ran at the alarm, and then stood aghast.