He had heard the story of the courageous mother. He had heard the girl’s story from her own pretty lips as they had walked, to the bank of the river where he had left his canoe moored. And he had been filled with only the greater admiration for the simple strength and courage with which these devoted souls had embarked upon their tremendous struggle for existence.
At last he knocked out his charred pipe and thrust it away into a pocket. Again his hands were outspread to the blaze, but now his eyes were directed to the red-headed creature beyond the fire. Wilder suddenly cleared his throat. He began to speak, addressing himself to the Irishman. And Chilcoot looked round from his contemplation of the fire.
“You boys best listen awhile while I make a talk.” Wilder’s manner was quiet enough, but there was that in his tone which impressed his companions. “You’ve maybe both got a grouch on me. And I’ll admit I’d feel the same if I were you. You’re both of you guessing all sorts of bad med’cine about that business back there in the hills. You’re reckoning I got visions I haven’t figured to pass on to you. Well, I sort of feel like clearing things up some—I mean that old grouch.”
His eyes began to smile and he turned to the older man beside him and shook his head.
“No,” he went on, “I’m not going to say a word about that night I passed in that darn place. I’m just going to ask you boys to sort of forget it, and forget your grouch. You just got to trust me same as you’ve done right along, and maybe later, I’ll be able to hand you the story as I know it. You, Chilcoot, know me, and I guess you’ll act that way without a kick. It’ll be harder for Mike, who hasn’t worked with me the years you have. Still, maybe I can make it easy even for him.”
He thrust out a foot and kicked the fire together while the two men maintained their silent regard.
“The thing I’ve to talk about is the thing we got to do right here,” he went on. “I’ve got it planned, and I want to hand you the schedule of it. We’ve drawn a bad run of blanks for the stuff we’ve been chasing for the past year, but the run’s ended. The stuff’s in sight. It’s right here on these mud flats, for all the notion’ll seem plumb crazy to you boys.”
The Irishman stirred and sat up.
“Ther’s gold on this darn—creek?” he cried incredulously.
“There surely is.”