The man nodded, slung his pack over his shoulder, and then, turning, began to descend the almost perpendicular face of the rocks, twice over narrowly escaping a bad fall. But at last he reached the foot, waded out a little, and then stepped on board.
“Thankye,” he said; “you are good Christians. I’ve been here a fortnight, and couldn’t get any farther. I shouldn’t have been alive now if I hadn’t got a fish or two.”
“You are tramping to the gold region all alone, then?”
“Yes, and I’ve nearly tramped all the way from Chicago.”
The Cornishman turned and stared.
“I got a lift sometimes on the cattle and freight trains, though, when I could creep on unseen.”
“The gold has a magnetic attraction for you, then?” said Abel.
“I suppose so, but it’s my last chance. This is a solitary way, though, isn’t it? I’ve hardly seen a soul. I saw your fire, though, last night, across yonder.”
“Did you see anybody go by on a raft three or four days ago?” cried Dallas eagerly.
“I did. Party of three, and hailed them.”