"You're the most sanguine man I ever met," Blake said, grinning. "Take care your optimism doesn't ruin you."
"I wonder," Harding continued, "whether Clarke knows about this gas, and on the whole I think it probable. We can't be very far from the Stony camp, and there's reason to believe he's been prospecting this district. It's oil he's out for."
"How did the thing get lighted?" Benson asked in an indifferent tone.
Harding smiled as he gave him a sharp glance. He had failed in his search for the gum and did not expect his companions to share his enthusiasm over a new plan. They had, however, promised to support him, and that was enough, for he believed he might yet show them the way to prosperity.
"Well," he said, "I guess I can't blame you for not feeling very keen, but that's not the point. I can't answer what you ask, and I believe our forest wardens are now and then puzzled about how bush fires get started. We have crossed big belts of burnt trees in a country where we saw no signs of Indians."
"If this blower has been burning long, the Stonies must have known of it," Blake remarked. "Isn't it curious that no news of it has reached the settlements?"
"I'm not sure," Harding rejoined. "They may venerate the thing, and anyway, they're smart in some respects. They know that where the white men come their people are rounded up on reserves, and I guess they'd sooner have the whole country to themselves for trapping and fishing. Then Clarke may have persuaded them to say nothing."
"It's possible," Blake said thoughtfully. "We'll push on for their camp first thing to-morrow."