He was not more than healthfully weary, and there was an exhilarating quality in the sweet, cool air, which was heavy with the smell of the firs, while the wonderful green transparency generally to be seen after sunset among the mountains of that land still glimmered behind the peaks on one side of the valley. The rest of the hollow was wrapped in creeping shadow against which the nearest pines stood out in dusky ranks. Saunders raised himself on one elbow and gazed at them reflectively before he turned to Devine, who was sitting near him. They had been hard at work on the mineral claims of the Grenfell Consolidated for the last few days.
“This camping in the woods would be quite nice if one could prowl round with the rifle instead of pounding the drill,” he said, and then paused to glance ruefully at one of his battered hands. “Anyway, I don’t know that I shouldn’t just as soon do that as to hold it.”
“Sorry,” said Devine. “Still, you’ve done some shooting. We brought up a box of cartridges and now we haven’t one. What you want is a single-shot rifle, or a deer that will stand still.”
Saunders turned and pointed to the dismembered carcass that hung from a fir branch close at hand.
“I got that one on the run, and there was a time when I’d have had one for every ca’tridge, instead of plugging Marlin bullets into trees. It was a sport I was meant for.” He paused and sighed. “I’ve had to be a sawmill hand and a storekeeper.”
Devine grinned at this.
“Well,” he said, “you’ve raked more money out of pork and sugar than I have out of surveying. For that matter, you’ve got most of mine; and you’re better off than I am, because the store’s still running.”
“Oh, yes,” said his companion, with a sardonic smile, “it’s being run by Jim from Okanagan, and he’ll have the boys round in the back store evenings sampling cheese and eating crackers while they help him. They’re kind of curious insects, and it’s a blame pity I never remembered to put those Vancouver invoices where they wouldn’t lay hands on them, for there’ll sure be trouble when I get back again. You have got to strike people for full prices when they don’t always meet their bills. Anyway, the man who spreads himself out on jobs that don’t strictly belong to him is bound to find it cost him something.”
It was significant that he spoke of going back; but both he and Devine admitted that possibility. The mine was theirs, and they certainly meant to keep it if they could, though they recognized that this might be difficult. As a matter of fact, a reef or lode mine is of almost as much immediate use to a poor man as a sewing-machine would be to a naked savage. He cannot get out the ore without sinking a shaft or driving an adit, which, in the general way, means the hiring of labor and the purchase of costly machines. Then, when that is done, he must put up a stamp-mill and reducing plant, or arrange for transport by pack-horse to somebody who has one, which is a very expensive matter in a mountainous land where roads have still to be cut. As the result of this, he must in the first place go round and beg the assistance of men with money to spare; and the latter, as a rule, insist on his handing over the mine before parting with any of their money. There are also means of putting pressure on the reluctant seller, and the usual code of morals does not seem to be considered as strictly applicable to a mining deal.
“Well,” said Devine, at length, “we have still a good deal of drilling to do, and unless you’re smarter with the hammer than I am we’ll want new hands before we’re through.”