“Certainly. Go right ahead.”
Sandy looked about him to make sure that they were not overheard, then leaned forward, as he walked beside the sleigh, and fairly hissed the words in Dick’s ear:
“We’ve got back the map of the lost mine!”
“No!” shouted Dick.
“It’s a fact. Corporal Richardson found it this morning on the body of Malemute Slade.”
For a brief second, Dick stared incredulously, wonderingly at his friend, then removed his parka and threw it high in the air.
CHAPTER XI
OFF FOR THE MINE
On a bright Spring morning, nearly a month after the recovery of the map, a small but enthusiastic party of young prospectors left Fort Good Faith, and started north on its exciting quest. In the lead went Toma, the young Indian guide, and Dick Kent, now fully recovered from his recent injury. Sandy MacClaren and two Indian packers, Lee and Pierre, brought up the rear.
Three pack-horses, carrying supplies, blankets and equipment, trudged along behind the packers. They were heavily laden and, considering the fact that they had but recently come off the winter range, were in excellent condition.
The route Dick and his friends followed was a narrow trail, which threaded its way north by a little west through a practically unexplored and uninhabited country. By following the trail, the party would, in a few days, cross a low range of hills and emerge upon a trackless, broken plain. This plain, according to the map, sloped away in a northwesterly direction to Thunder River.