At last the tide turned. On the same day a piece of great good and bad fortune befell our explorers. It happened thus:—
Watty Wilkins roused himself from a golden dream one morning, threw off his blanket looked up at the bush which served him and his comrades as a canopy, and yawned. It was grey dawn. There was that clear sweet light in the sky which gives sure promise of a fine day. Seeing that his companions still slept, he drew from his breast a small Testament, read a few verses, and prayed. This had been his custom ever since his deliverance by the American ship.
Soon after, Jack moved his bulky frame, rolled round, threw out his arms, and yawned. The yawn awakened Buckley, who immediately followed suit—such is the force of example!
“I’ll tell you what it is, mates,” said the latter, sitting up, “that twist I gave my leg yesterday troubles me a little. I shall remain in camp to-day and smoke.”
“Very good,” said Jack, rising and putting the kettle on the fire with a view to breakfast. “Watty and I will go up that valley and prospect. We will expect that you’ll eat no more than your share of the provisions during our absence, and that you’ll have supper ready for us when we return.”
The simple breakfast being disposed of and washed down with cans of hot tea, the two friends shouldered their guns and set off up the gorge or narrow mountain valley, near the mouth of which they had bivouacked. There was a belt of wood close to their camp; beyond that a small plain, after crossing which they entered a dense thicket, and began a toilsome march up the bed of a little mountain stream. The channel was nearly dry at the time, but the boulders, which were strewn about everywhere, showed that it was sometimes a formidable torrent.
“A likely place for gold,” said Watty, with a hopeful look and tune.
“We’ve tried many such likely places,” replied Jack, with a look and tone not quite so hopeful.
For several miles they advanced, washing out a panful of dirt here and there, and finding a little gold-dust as usual. Mid-day arrived, and they sat down to a cold dinner, consisting of a few scraps of meat left from breakfast. Little conversation was indulged in. They were too hungry for that—perhaps too much depressed by hope deferred.
“I’ll try the banks higher up,” said Jack, rising.