The other bird that made its haven in Iceland, though I ought not to anticipate, was one of the last sent up. Of it I shall have more to say anon.
As soon as the day was an hour long, with about an hour of twilight on each side to back it up, Dr Barrett recommenced his explorations in earnest.
The ground all round the inland sea was of adamant; nor pick nor spade could dare on that. But to continue the mine begun the previous summer was far more feasible, for the snow that had filled it had kept out the frost.
Here, then, work was begun. It would keep the men at earnest exercise, at all events, the doctor said, and prevent sickness.
The mine was soon so far advanced as to be a perfect shelter for the workers, even daring the worst of weather.
When little morsels of nuggets of gold and silver came to be found the excitement grew intense. Even the hands who did not strictly belong to the surgeon’s party prayed the captain to permit them to “have a dig,” as they called it, in their spare moments.
And Claude did not refuse.
Rab McDonald, the third officer, was the first to make a lucky find. It was a nugget of pure gold as big as his thumb, and that was by no means a small one.
“Man! look!” he cried exultingly, showing it round to his fellows. “I’ll soon be as rich as Rothschild.”
His face fell somewhat when the doctor quietly told him that all the precious ore found belonged by rights to the company who had sent them out.