“See what?” She turned a puzzled face up to his. “I see the frozen bed of a stream. There are rapids and a waterfall over there, too swift to freeze. And I think I see a pelican waiting for a fish.”
“But off to the right?”
“Hills, rocks, snow.”
“Ah, yes. But once that stream flowed there. If you look closely you will see that the narrow banks of a rapid stream are still suggested there. Yes, that’s where it ran.”
“What changed its course?”
He shrugged. “Jam of logs and drifting ice in the spring, perhaps. Anyway, it happened. See this.”
He dropped something in her hand. It was a fine yellow crescent.
“That,” he said with a sudden intake of breath, “is gold. Free gold, they call it. Found it many miles up from here in the rocks. Gold up there. But not enough for quartz mining. Too far from everywhere.
“But that,” he pointed again to the ancient bed of the stream, “looks promising. There are rapids and falls in it, just as there are in this new channel. And at the foot of the falls there may be golden sands, worn away from the rocks and carried down there.”
He broke off abruptly. “Jump in! Let’s get back to camp.”