"Sartingly beats all creation, that's what it does," remarked Cap Slater, in a tone of positive conviction.
"And—and did you really find gold?" asked Sam.
"The rocks are filled with specks that glitter like the sun," said Wanatoma. "Come, you shall see. Indian's work is done; he is content."
A certain pathos in his voice stilled a wild burst of enthusiasm. The redman, whose once powerful shoulders were bent by the weight of years, presented a picturesque spectacle. Long hair fell loosely over his blanketed shoulders; an eagle feather fluttered in the breeze; age had dimmed the luster of his eyes and lined his face with deep-set wrinkles, but the dignity of the warrior still remained.
"Wal, Wanna, yer the whitest Injun the rain ever beat ag'in," remarked Cap Slater, breaking in upon the silence. "Shake!"
He urged his mustang forward and leaned over.
The gruff old lumberman and the Indian clasped hands. One by one, the boys followed his example; then, with a "Come ahead, boys," Mr. Lovell cracked his quirt and was off.
Their ride, which was not long, took them through a narrow gorge between two low hills. From this they emerged upon a vast level plain, dotted with great clumps of evergreens.
"Aha! There's another bend in Gold Creek! See it?" cried Bob.
"Well, I should say so," shouted Tim, excitedly. "My, what a head you have, Bob Somers. Can it be—can it actually be there? Oh, ginger! Quick—tell us, Uncle Stanley."