CHAPTER XIV
HIGH TIME TO LEAVE
GLANCING at his companion, Percy, rather to his alarm, saw that Jack’s face was quite pale, his eyes wide open and staring, and that, though the day was cool, the perspiration was running down his cheeks. The fact was that Jack was taken with a brief but sharp attack of that curious disease known as “the gold fever.” To Percy the amount of gold in the pan was no more than he had expected; but Jack, on the other hand, was well aware that a spoonful of gold to one small pan of “dirt” was something extraordinary.
“Percy,” he burst out, in a high state of excitement, “this is tremendous! Perfectly tremendous! There is fifty times—a hundred times—as much gold in that pan as I expected to see. There must be a vein of extraordinary richness somewhere about here. We must set to work to find it.”
“I’m ready,” responded Percy, catching something of his companion’s excitement. “But how are we to set to work? I don’t know where to look for it, nor what to look for.”
“First of all,” replied Jack, “we’ll clean out all the pot-holes, and test them, one at a time, to see how they compare for richness with the first one. After that we’ll test the soil on both banks, and after that—well, after that we’ll see. Will you just go over to the camp and bring down the wash-pan, a tin plate, and another spoon, while I try to get rid of a little more of this black sand in the pan?”
Percy was soon on hand with the desired articles, when Jack set him to work scouring the plate and the wash-pan with sand in order to remove any particles of grease there might be adhering to them. This being done, the gold was turned into the plate, and the pair, each armed with a bent spoon, applied their labour to clearing out the next two pot-holes; depositing all the black sand in the wash-pan, and dabbing a clay ball over the bottom of each hole. Jack then proceeded to extract the gold from the clay balls, while Percy cleaned out hole number four. In this manner they worked their way down-stream until they had cleaned up fourteen holes, each one of which yielded more or less gold, though, as a rule, the quantity decreased as they descended. There were only three holes left, but by this time the supply of clay had given out, and Percy therefore went back to look for more. There was no more where they had found the original deposit, but a few steps away, still beneath the cap of the Mushroom Rock, he found another heap which he gathered up and carried back to the stream. This lot of clay, he observed, had a reddish tinge, whereas the other had been almost pure white; but though he noticed the fact he thought nothing of it, and set to work on the last three holes without delay.
To the surprise both of Jack and himself none of these three holes produced a scrap of gold—not a “colour.”
“That is curious,” remarked Jack. “But I suppose the first fourteen holes are so arranged in the bed of the creek as to intercept all the gold that comes down. Are you sure that you cleaned up the last three as thoroughly as you did the others?”
“I believe so,” replied Percy, “but I’ll do them over again and make sure.”
“One’s enough,” said Jack. “Do the first of the three.”