“In ther centre of that valley thar’s nuggets mixed with the sand, pure gold, and lots go into the valley but never come out. Ther gold tempts ’em.”
“What is the trouble?” asked Frank. “Why cannot a man live in the valley?”
“Ugh!” grunted the trapper, “thar’s a powerful reason why. Satan’s Hole is as hot as Hades, an’ thar’s powerful gases come up out of the ground an’ overcomes one. Thar’s a trail across that valley strewn with corpses, an’ it is called the Sandy Trail of Death.”
“You mean skeletons?” corrected Frank, “not bodies.”
“I axe your parding boss, but it are bodies, not skelingtons. Thar’s something about the atmosphere ov the gases, that preserves ther human body, an’ there are bodies of men who went inter ther place twenty years ago, as natural as life.”
Frank was astonished at this marvelous tale, the like of which he had never heard before.
“Wonderful,” he exclaimed. “Why is it that the scientific world has not heard of this strange valley?”
The trapper smiled.
“Thar’s a powerful good reason,” he declared. “Ten years ago a party of them chaps cum out hyar. They knew it all, an’ they wouldn’t heed anybody’s warning. They went inter the valley an’ half way across the gas caught ’em.”
“Horrible!”