When a certain noise has been a companion for days and days, and is suddenly stilled, a sense of uneasiness results, as when on a steamer the throb of the engine ceasing will rouse sleepers from their slumber. The slowing down of the torrent in Judas Creek made Berwick restless. He did not at first recognize what it was that worried him.
Joe also seemed as if he were not altogether proof against the spell; at last, he took his stare from the stove and looked around the cabin.
"I t'ink something pretty soon happen, by gosh!"
John stared at him; for Joe to volunteer a remark was unusual: it increased his employer's apprehension.
Berwick returned to his newspaper, fascinated by its news. A party of miners had arrived in San Francisco bringing much gold from some unknown region of the north. They called it the Klondike.
Would his Judas Creek Claim ever pay him for his efforts? What were his chances of fortune? Masses of gold or mountains of dust? He was in search of fortune—with a big "F."
His thoughts naturally drifted to the girl he wanted to marry. She was the daughter of luxury and wealth. He was just a prospector, no more in the eyes of Dame Fortune than the sturdy natural by the stove: in fact, experience had led him to believe that in the mining enterprise Fortune had a partiality for such men as Joe.
Berwick had been five years at the mining game. He had drifted from one camp to another: over America, to Australia, back to America. He had possibly become something of a cynic; certainly his mind had hardened with his muscles. He dreamed dreams. What would his lady say if she received a letter, saying he was again pulling stakes, and had left Judas Creek in order to avoid being defeated? He whistled, and shrugged his strong shoulders. He did not know!
He put some practical thoughts together. The Klondike was evidently in the North, far inland, in Canada. Could he withstand great cold? Yes, he could; he could endure and do anything as any other normal strong man could; and could go anywhere that was practicable to humanity. This was not vanity, not conceit, but just healthy self-confidence.
Should he pull up stakes and leave his Judas Creek Claim to the coyotes? As this question once more came to his mind, he was aware of the complete silence now outside, and letting his paper fall, bent his head to listen. Joe was listening also. Judas Creek was absolutely still.