CHAPTER XXII
Slowly the winter wore away to the three boys, each anxious for spring to arrive, that they might hunt for gold. There was a good deal of snow, and some biting cold weather, and then it began to moderate slowly but surely, until the ice in the river broke away and the snow disappeared from the valley as if by magic.
"Hurrah! Spring at last!" cried Mark, one day when the sun came out extra strong. "I am not sorry for it."
"Sorry?" cried Bob. "Why, I could dance a jig for joy." And he did a few steps in front of the cabin.
The boys had already decided upon where to try their luck first—up the valley on the opposite side of the river, which soon began to flow swiftly, as the snow in the mountains melted.
"If you don't find anything in one place we can easily try another," said Si. "We can go where we please, so long as we don't work on some staked-out claim." They had already learned that to work on another person's claim was considered a great crime in the gold country.
Maybe Dixon was going to stick with them, "through thick or thin," as he expressed it. He had taken a strong liking to all three youths and could not think of separating from them.
The Sockets were going further down the valley,—to the Feather River,—and soon they parted from their friends.
"I shan't forget what I owe you," said Mark to Josiah Socket.
"Take your own time about paying," answered the man. And then he and his family moved off, pack and baggage, and the others did not see them again for some time.
It was an important day when the three boys and Maybe Dixon set out to make their first hunt for gold. The lads were wild with excitement. One carried a pick, another a shovel, and Si had the washing pan,—an article shaped somewhat like a broad coal hod, with little tin ridges on the front slope. This was one sort of washing pan, and there were numerous others.
An hour of stiff walking brought them to a spot Maybe Dixon thought inviting, and they set to work, close to the stream, to dig up the sand and dirt and proceed to the washing.
"I'll wash the first panful," said the man, "and then you can all try your hands at it. You've got to learn, and there ain't no time so good as the present."
"If the first panful only pans out good," whispered Si, hopefully.
All stood around and watched the process of washing with keen interest. The loose dirt came away quickly and then more water was put in, and Maybe Dixon showed how to get rid of the fine sand and small stones. At last the pan was almost empty.
"Any gold?" asked Bob, in a voice he tried his best to steady.
Maybe Dixon looked at the pan bottom with great care.
"Not a smell," he declared.
"Oh!" came from the three boys, and each followed with a long sigh.
"Ain't no use to git discouraged yet," said the man, hopefully. "We may go days before we strike paying dirt."
"I thought gold was everywhere," said Si.
They continued to dig and wash for an hour, each trying the pan. But nothing in the way of gold was brought to light. Then they moved to another locality and went through the whole process over again.
"No gold," murmured Mark, and his face showed his disappointment.
"I thought sure we'd strike something," said Bob.
"Perhaps after all we ought to have followed Mr. Socket down the valley," put in Si. "He said this district didn't look like gold to him."
"You can't tell from general appearances, not unless you're an expert," said Maybe Dixon. "Maybe by to-morrow we'll be having better luck."
They continued to dig and to wash, trying half a dozen different places, up and down the stream. But it was of no use, and at sundown they returned to their cabin much downcast.
"And doesn't my back ache!" declared Mark, bracing up with a grimace.
"It will ache, until you get used to digging," said Si, who was not bothered that way. Bob felt a little stiff, but Mark suffered the most by far.
The next morning they went out again, this time taking to a small creek that flowed into the river. They followed the creek for nearly half a mile, when they came to something of a hollow, surrounded by rocks and filled with sand.
"That sand ought to have something in it," declared Maybe Dixon. "But if we want it, we'll have to wade in and git it,—and it's putty cold as yet."
"I'll go in," said Mark. "I always took cold baths when I was at home, and I shan't mind it so very much."
He took off his shoes and stockings, rolled up his trousers, and waded in. The sand was loose and he easily scooped up a panful, which he handed to Bob, who proceeded to the washing. Soon they got to the bottom, where only a little coarse sand remained, mixed with specks of a dull coppery color.
"There's your gold!" cried Maybe Dixon. "Told you it would be there!"
"Is that really gold?" asked Si, doubtfully.
"To be sure it is, my boy."
"I thought gold was always shiny, like a gold ring or a watch."
"Not always. Some of it has to be cleaned."
"How much is there—I mean what is it worth?" questioned Bob.
"They say it is worth sixteen dollars an ounce," answered Mark. "I should think there was at least an eighth of an ounce there."
"Two dollars' worth of gold, just about," said Maybe Dixon, calculating with his eyes.
"It don't look it," said Si, almost in a whisper. "Why, that's fifty cents each all around!" And he gazed at the others with a grin of pleasure. "I'd have to work a whole day on the farm for that!" he added.
"Some panfuls may not be so good and some may be better," said Maybe Dixon. "In hunting for gold you've got to take what comes, every time."
They soon had another panful to wash and then half a dozen more. Mark did not remain in the water excepting when he drew up the sand and dirt. Yet it was cold labor, as he soon realized.
"This will be all right two months from now," he said. "But just now it is a little too cold."
"Thought you'd feel it," was Maybe Dixon's comment. "Don't you git cramps in your feet, or you'll have rheumatism or some other pesky thing to make you miserable."
They drew up, all told, about half an ounce of gold and then the bottom of the hollow was practically exhausted. Then they went further up the creek and tried a smaller hollow, which they scooped out by standing on some overhanging rocks. Here the first panful gave them all of a quarter of an ounce of gold.
"Four dollars' worth!" exclaimed Si. "How is that for ten minutes' work! Hurrah! Our fortunes are made!"
"Not quite, Si," answered Mark. "But I am mighty glad we've struck something."
They kept at the creek all of that day and for the balance of the week. On Saturday night they got the gold that had been found together and weighed it in a tiny scales Maybe Dixon had brought along.
"Two ounces and a half," said the man.
"At sixteen dollars an ounce that means just forty dollars," said Bob, quickly.
"Ten dollars each," came from Si. "That ain't so terrible bad for four days' work."
"And not so good either," put in Mark, quickly. "Boys, we have got to do better, or I shall be disappointed."
"I don't know as all gold is worth sixteen dollars an ounce," said Maybe Dixon. "We may have to sell it for fourteen dollars, or even as low as twelve dollars."
"We'll get the best price we can."
"Now how are we to divide?" said Bob, looking at Maybe Dixon. "We boys agreed long ago to share and share alike."
"I am willing to go in the same way, so long as all keep on working," said Maybe Dixon. "We can divide up whatever we find into four parts instead of three."
All of the boys were satisfied and said so, and then they shook hands with their new partner. It was agreed that for the present Bob and Mark should work together as one "team" and Si and Maybe Dixon as another. All agreed to go down the stream a little further and try another creek Mark had discovered.
The following week found them harder at work than ever. Mark's back often ached from the labor, but he did not complain. His thoughts, and the thoughts of all, were centered on finding gold.
The second week's work netted them fifty dollars and the third week brought in nearly a hundred. All of the gold was placed in a chamois bag, secreted in a chink of the cabin wall, behind a slab of wood.
During the third week several other gold seekers drifted into that locality and three claims were staked out. But our friends staked no claim, content to wander around until they struck "something worth while," as Mark put it.
The Indians had not shown themselves again, but from one miner who came up the creek they learned that a shack two miles away had been plundered by the red men and the owner half killed. A posse had gotten after the Indians and one had been badly wounded. The rest of the band had fled to parts unknown.