I said, "Captain, you are an old man and should go to the settlements and enjoy the remainder of your life." He replied, "There is no place on this earth so dear to me as these mountains. Here is where I have lived and here is where I shall die—close to the nature god and his beautiful works, among the flowers and birds of summer and the storms and evergreens of winter."
It was enough. I caught the inspiration and could have remained with him had I been so unconventional. But life held something dearer and I was soon headed toward the cabin.
"Well, Captain," I said, "you will never find gold in these mountains, but if you love the crags, and the wild winds and the deer, nature in all its purity, the bursting of the buds in springtime, the flowers on a thousand hills, the cold pure water, the frisking squirrels, the pure air; then stay in the home of the miner, the prospector, the hunter and the nature lover, until you cross the great divide which is allotted to all men."
Our visit with the Captain was at an end, and we must say good-bye, perhaps forever. Our horses were ready and our packs were lashed on with the diamond hitch. I got my saddle horse and we moved down the trail, the Captain talking about his placer. At last we came to the steep trail, and he straightened up and said, "Well, when the snow flies I will see you at your home in the city of Billings, and then I will show you some gold that will convince you that I am right."
"Captain," I said, "the latch-string hangs out for you, and if you will only come and spend the winter with me I shall then endeavor to even up the score with you for this favor, as I know I can do it in no other way."
He replied, "Well, I am glad that you know it, and when you photo the great paint rocks of the Sheep Eaters, their Wheel or Holy Shrine, their tepees and landmarks, send me a copy of their wonderful works. And may the Great Spirit keep you until we meet again. So long, Doctor."
"So long, Captain, and may your days be full of sunshine."