"Same thing," he muttered disgustedly, as he stared at the yellow grains, "Just wages. I've got to make a strike! There's Reeves to pay—and Camillo Bill—and I've got to have dust—and plenty of it—for her. Damn this hole! I'm going to hit for the lower river. We'll cover this shaft to keep the snow out and hit north. Hearne, and Franklin, and Richardson all report native copper on the lower river—amygdaloid beds that crop out in sheer cliffs. Gold isn't the only metal—there's millions in copper! And, the river winding in and out among the trap and basalt dykes, there's bound to be gold, too." He collected the few grains of gold, threw out the gravel and water, and picking up his rifle, stepped out the door. At the shaft he paused and called to Joe Pete that he was going hunting and as the big Indian watched him disappear up the river, his lips stretched in a slow grin, and he tossed wood into the shaft.
A mile from the cabin Brent rounded a sharp bend and came face to face with Snowdrift. There was an awkward silence during which both strove to appear unconcerned. The girl was the first to speak, and Brent noticed that she was blushing furiously: "I—I am hunting," she announced, swinging her rifle prominently into view.
Brent laughed: "So am I hunting—for you."
"But really, I am hunting caribou. There are lots of mouths to feed, and the men are not much good. They will spend hours slipping up onto a caribou and then miss him."
"Come on, then, let's go," answered the man gaily. "Which way shall it be?"
"I saw lots of tracks the other day on a lake to the eastward. It is six or seven miles. I think we will find caribou there." Brent tried to take her hand, but she eluded him with a laugh, and struck out through the scraggling timber at a pace that he soon found hard to follow.
"Slow down! I'll be good!" he called, when they had covered a quarter of a mile, and Snowdrift laughingly slackened her pace.
"You're a wonder!" he panted, as he closed up the distance that separated them, "Don't you ever get tired?"
"Oh, yes, very often. But, not so early in the day. See, three caribou passed this way only a few hours ago—a bull and two cows." They struck into the trail, and two hours later Snowdrift succeeded in bring down one of the cows with a long shot as the three animals trotted across a frozen muskeg.
"And now we must kill one for you," announced the girl as Brent finished drawing the animal.