As was expected, the morning saw the arrival of the first of the Dominion Creek stampeders; they had staked their claims and returned to add to the length of the waiting line. Their faces and appearance told something of the terrors of their experience.
Bodies limp and eyes glazed, faces wan and expressionless, these were the result of thirty-six hours of intense muscular and nervous strain. The gold frenzy is the hardest, harshest, of tax-masters, drawing its victims into such self-inflicted labour as, if imposed by an employer, would rouse the protests of civilized humanity. Such toil breeds the determination to have and to hold what is justly won, develops sympathy for the rights of others, and will push aside the laws of custom and society if they stand in the way of justice.
The office doors were opened and the slow procession began. It was an hour past noon when John and his three companions stood before the wicket where the whiskered Hardman was at work. Hugh came first, John next, then George, lastly Frank.
"We want to record hillsides on Dominion," said Hugh.
"What numbers?"
"I have lower half, fifty below centre discovery, left limit, and my friend here has upper half."
Hardman grabbed a book and turned over the leaves to the space allotted these claims.
"These claims are already recorded," which answer was not unexpected.
"When were they staked?" Fatigued though he was, Hugh's face was livid with anger.
"At one minute past midnight of the 11th of July, 1898."