“Hooroo! och! goold galore! there it is at last!” shouted Larry O’Neil, tossing up his arms with delight. “Do buy it, Mr Ned, darlint.”
“I needn’t turn up more, I guess,” said the Yankee, carelessly throwing down his shovel, and filling the earth into a tin bowl or pan; “I’ll jest wash it out an’ shew ye what it’s like.”
So saying he dipped the pan into the stream gently, and proceeded to wash out the gold. As this was done in the way usually practised by diggers, we shall describe it.
Setting down the tin pan of earth and water, the Yankee dipped both hands into it and stirred its contents about until it became liquid mud, removing the stones in the operation. It was then moved round quickly with a peculiar motion which caused some off the top to escape over the edge of the pan with each revolution; more water was added from time to time, and the process continued until all the earthy matter was washed away, and nothing but a kind of black sand, in which the gold is usually contained, remained at the bottom.
“There you are,” cried the man, exultingly, lifting up a handful of the heavy and shining mixture; “fifteen dollars at least in two shovelfuls. I’ll sell ye the claim, if ye like, for two hundred dollars.”
“I would give it at once,” said Ned, feeling at the moment deeply troubled on account of his poverty; “but, to say truth, I have not a farthing in the world.”
A peculiar grin rested on the faces of the miners who looked on as he spoke, but before he could inquire the cause, Tom Collins stepped forward, and said:
“That’s a first-rate claim of yours. What did ye say was your charge for it?”
“Three hundred dollars down.”
“I’ll tell ye what,” rejoined Tom, “I’ll give you six hundred dollars for it, if you take out another shovelful of dirt like that!”