“One day as I panned the sand I came upon a brownish object that seemed to be an ancient copper kettle turned upside down and half buried in the sand.
“‘Aha!’ I cried, ‘A relic of the past. Some Forty-niner must have passed this way and left his kettle.’
“I struck it lightly with the side of my pick. Naturally I expected it to give off a hollow sound. No hollow sound came; only a dull thud, as if I had struck a rock.
“Instantly my heart beat wildly. I had made a great discovery—how great I could only guess.
“Quickly I drew my sheath knife. Using this as a chisel, and a stone as a hammer, I cut off a chip of this yellow boulder.
“Imagine my joy when it came off gleaming like yellow fire.
“‘Gold!’ I cried. ‘A boulder of pure gold!’
“Then I fell suddenly silent. What if some one had heard me?
“I tried to pry the boulder from the sand. It would not budge. Gold is heavy. Do you know how heavy?
“Darkness was falling. The curtain of night would hide my treasure. I returned to my cabin, fried a supply of bacon, baked corn-cakes over hot coals, and enjoyed a regal repast. And why not? Was I not rich as any king?”