She surfaced and turned on the dredge motor. The dredge hose was instantly like handling a large agitated snake, and down she dove with it into the ten feet of clear water.
The hole itself was looking good; not too much debris had rolled back into the way. She worked steadily and according to plan. Rocky wanted a kitchen table size piece of river bottom cleared off down to the bedrock. Then the survey would begin with samples to see if there was enough gold to make it profitable to continue working on that spot. Rocky could see some small sparkling pieces floating in the water, but it was loose mica and nothing to get excited about. She was looking for black sand or white quartz.
A big hunk of gold sitting all by itself would also be just fine. Not that it ever happened that way; gold dredging was about moving rocks and earth. Rocky could see the area that her Dad worked and she was not going over that territory until the very last week of diving season.
It was already noon, and her body was hungry and very sleepy. She shut the dredge down, anchored it on the river bank, took the motor off the housing and dragged it in a piece of tarp, up onto the porch. Then, she hurried back to the dredge body and pulled the miners moss and the carpeting that caught the gold. Rocky put that in the old galvanized wash tub she found on one of Dad’s scrap metal piles. It had a hole in the side but it would hold the gold gear just fine. She dragged that back up to the house. Washing the sand and gold out of it tonight in the kitchen sink with the newly plumbed cold water faucet would be wonderful. Life was good. Rocky could do this while she watched for her snooper rock climber.
The dogs were letting Rocky know someone had driven onto the property. Rocky forgot to shut and lock the gate at the county road. She was staggering in her tracks tired. It was her brother and sister in law. Rocky started two more toasted cheese sandwiches, and got the booby trap off of the front door, before Dev swooped in and had booby trap everywhere.
“Hey you guys, what are you doing here,” Rocky got to the porch as the truck stopped.
Margie waved from the truck and called to her, “I couldn’t keep Dev away another minute.”
Devlin gave Rocky his sheepish grin, “We thought that we would take over for you for the night and you could get some sleep. The Babe and I have taken the day off tomorrow,” Dev said.
“You guys didn‘t have to do that. That sounds wonderful by me though."
"Come on in and have some lunch and tell me the plan, I‘m glad you are here,” Rocky moved out of the way of Pokey, the Border Collie, who had zoomed in the door looking for her dog buddies. To get any peace for the next few minutes, Dev shooed the dogs outside for their three-way romp around the meadow. Thumper hopped as fast as she could down the steps after the dogs. Soon, Rocky needed to get a photo of that.
“Sis, I still don’t have a plan,” and Dev took a big bite of sandwich ensuring he did not have to say anything more.
“Hah, he does too have a plan; he just doesn’t want us to know what it is,” said Margie while giving her husband a big grin and wrinkling up his already wrinkled T-shirt.
“Okay, all right, I give,” her brother had both hands up protecting his body from Margie’s verbal body punches.
“First thing, after lunch, I’m walking down by the base of the rock and see where he comes in from the road. Then I’ll know where he parks and tonight, we may have a surprise for him.”
“Oh, I love your kind of surprises,” Rocky winked at Devlin.
“I’ll drive our truck down to the cafe, and Rocky can follow me in her truck. We can leave our truck there overnight, and then the snoop won’t know we are here. When we get back, then you can go to bed,” Margie was triumphantly explaining her plan, and giving her husband a sly grin.
“That sounds like a good idea, Babe that will work,” Rocky’s brother has conceded not only the battle, but also the war.
Margie and Rocky finished their sandwiches, they left for the cafe and dropped off the truck.
When they returned to the cabin, Devlin had attached the dredge motor to the little pump to fill the buckets and started the gravity fed soaker hose on the veggie garden. Rocky had again forgotten to water in the past couple of days.
The dog herd had gone with Devlin to the bottom of the rock. The women made a full loop of the cabin before they went in, maybe they were scaring themselves, but it didn’t hurt anyone to take the time.
They had a cup of tea while waiting for Devlin to get back. Rocky started a batch brewing for iced tea in the afternoon.
There was a heavy envelope from Trailblazer Publications in today’s mail. That looked interesting or was it another fancy expensive way to get her to subscribe.
“Margie, Trailblazer wants me to do a photo essay on Donner Lake. They saw my pictures somewhere and decided that I was the photographer they wanted to do it. This is a contract. Wow...,” she trailed off. as she read further.
“Do they say how much they will pay?”
Ever the pragmatic Margie, she wanted to know the bottom line first.
“Oh do they ever,” Rocky breathed. She passed Margie the letter, who let out a low, slow whistle.
They took the tea out onto the front porch where it was cooler. Rocky signed the contract and with ceremony placed it into the return envelope. They talked about the Donner shoot and the possibility of Rocky doing photography full time, freelance. She would have to give up her dream of flying for the major airlines, but they do not seem in any urgent need for her flying skills, maybe this was what was in store for Rocky.
“I read some place, that people change careers several times in their working life,” said Margie. “Maybe, this is the time for you to do that.”
“That and with the income from gold mining I can starve to death,” Rocky moaned.
Dev had driven up to the porch and loped up to the waiting ice tea like the big overgrown puppy he really was.
“Who is starving to death?” he interrupted.
Rocky handed him the contract from Trailblazer Magazine.
He let out a wolf whistle, “They will pay that much for pictures, hell, I’m in the wrong business.”
They all laughed. Rocky’s brother was an internationally prominent geologist, with many papers and two textbooks to his credit. He worked around the world, finding water and oil.
All of them were rapidly talking, discussing the format and expense of doing a year long photo journal of the seasons there.
The dogs were now infected with the good mood and they started a wild game of tag around the dry front lawn. Thumper was watching from safety next to Margie’s foot.
“I think I can make it really beautiful and at the same time make it poignant with the Donner party. Maybe compare the four-lane highway now and the pass then. An aerial view would be stunning,” Rocky was telling them the images as they popped into her head.
Margie said, “Do you have enough money to get started, do you need another camera or lenses?”
“With the down payment, so to speak, that they are sending as soon as the contract is back, that should be enough to order the film and pay gas money up there for a look around scout trip. I should be okay to get this started,” Rocky paced the porch.
“Before I forget,” Devlin began, “I posted NO TRESPASS signs all over the base of the rock and at the road.”
“All right Dev,” Rocky high fived her brother. ”Now if I can catch him on the property; I can do something about it, legally.”
“Not that there is much to a trespass offense, but it starts building a history on this guy,” Devlin talked while trying to read the ingredients on the box of lemon cookies.
“You really think this is the same guy, from that day in the river?” Margie asked. “What was his name?”
“Can’t think of anyone else. I mean if it is a he, and he wants to make nice, why not come to the front door and make nice?” Rocky scratched her head at the place where it was healing and wondered aloud to her family.
“You have a major point there, Ro
cky,” Margie was pushing her hand away from the new scar and studied her face like she was some bug on a slide.
“It’s looking good, Sweet pea, your battle scar is looking good,” Margie opined.
Rocky went to the shed and hauled out the gold sorter and the wash tub full of moss and carpet from the dredge. The three of them started the tedious, but always exciting business of getting the gold out of the miner’s moss and sluice carpet and into the little vials to take to the gold buyer.
Margie and Rocky took over the washing process and Dev took the new machine out of the box and hooked it up to another hose attached to the kitchen faucet. Rocky did not even know if it would work.
“Dad bought this thing at a gold mining show,” Devlin told them. “It looks like it has never been out of the box. You spoon your black sand into this rotating pan thing and the water comes in here and the water combined with the circular motion moves the sand out of the basin and leaves behind the gold. Sometimes maybe some little garnets or heavier stuff like platinum that is easy to get out.”
While he was talking, Devlin assembled the machine. Margie and Rocky were working the moss for the little nuggets, fine gold flakes and sand. The machine would be the last step in gold recovery.
“I think it not only looks like fun, and jeez great concept, the miner gets to sit for a change,” Rocky was voting for the sitting and spooning black sand into the rotating basin, rather than the long process of recovering gold by hand panning, squatting at the river’s edge.
“Hey tell you what, if this thing really works, next season I’ll help you rig up a pump and water line to the porch for it,” Dev’s eyes were gleaming like a kid with a new toy.
“I’ve got a better idea, run a permanent water line into the bathroom for the toilet, and then run a line out here for the machine.”
"The latest new concept is running water in cabins,” Margie was only teasing Dev, they know that Rocky probably would have the money for a garden hose, but not to plumb the house.
“Doesn’t running water in the bathroom sound heavenly,” she thought aloud.
“I wonder why Dad didn’t ever use this contraption.” Margie was watching the machine in action.
“Probably because it takes running water to make it work right. The garden hose is what you are supposed to use, but I thought of something that will work also,” Dev said leaving the porch for the cabin with the porch screen door slamming.
It wasn’t long, when Dev came back, with tubing and a little black pump.
“I remembered that I still had the pump and some plastic tubing from my aquarium. I knew it was somewhere in my old room. The tubing must be twenty years old, keep your fingers crossed that it works.”
“What a great idea,” Rocky said, seeing instantly what he was going to do.
Pump the water from the wash tub through the tubing and into the basin of the collector.
Devlin continued with his ideas for it, while he connected the aquarium pump to the extension cord.
“I can wire an outside electrical outlet then it will be safe. Cut out all this hose switching, and dragging through the kitchen and extension cord stuff,” Dev cannot wait another instant to try out the recovery machine.
Rocky brought out her coffee can of cleaned black sand, that she had already taken the big gold flakes from and he started spooning the sand into the basin. Almost immediately they saw a very fine thin line of gold dust on the edges of the pan.
“Wow, I can see why Dad bought this goodie,” Margie was watching that thin gold line grow a little bigger.
“Do you think something as simple as rigging running water would stop him?”
“How come this didn’t get stolen,” Rocky asked.
They were acting like three kids with a new toy and they were. Rocky pulled herself away from the porch and started preparing dinner.
They worked on the porch doing the gold cleanup for more than five hours and it seemed like five seconds. Rocky remembered that she had not slept at all. This day was what she hoped the sojourn at the cabin would be. She prepared dinner with a big smile on her face.
They recovered almost eight hundred dollars worth of gold bits, flakes and the dust known as fines. There was one nice little nugget that might bring around one hundred on its own. The gold was placed as the centerpiece of the kitchen table when they sat down to eat. They swirled it around making pretty patterns in it.
“Here is the plan for tonight,” Devlin had their full attention.
“When we spot him, then I’m going to walk to the spot he leaves his truck. I’m going to disable his truck enough that he can’t zoom off before we have a man to man chat. Then I’m going to the bottom of the rock and wait for him to come back down for that chat.”
“What do you want us to do?” Margie was going to wiggle herself out of the chair with anticipation.
“You two are going to stay in the cabin and take pictures of him on the rock. As soon as I’m out the door I want you two to turn on the lights in the living room. Then go into the kitchen with the door to the living room closed. I want you to stay in the kitchen ’till I get back,” Dev informed them.
“But, I think we should go to his truck and standby there until you get back, in case, he slips by you,” Margie was making it plain she had her own set of plans.
Rocky saw that Margie had no intention of staying in the cabin, while Dev was out spooking around.
“No, don’t you even think of coming down there, Margie. You never know, the guy might be dangerous.”
“That is precisely my point and reason for going down there as backup, with the dogs and the cell phone,” Margie pleaded her case.
“And the shot gun,” Rocky piped in.
“Yeah, and the shotgun,” Margie concurred as she high fived Rocky.
“Come on, this isn’t some Hardy girls adventure story, you will stay here,” her brother was trying to look fierce as he stated his final word on the matter.
Margie and Rocky looked as innocently as possible at each other. They knew that was not going to happen. The three of them burst out laughing.
Devlin said, “I’m serious.”
“We are too,” Margie and Rocky chorused.
It seemed minutes that Rocky had been asleep, when Margie shook her arm.
“Rocky, wake up, the guy is on the rock, we saw him moving into place and saw the flash. Time to get up, who knows how long he spends up there. Let’s give him a show. Leave the lights off in here.”
Rocky pulled on jeans and a T-shirt and fumbled around for her boots. They moved as silently and quickly as possible into the living room. Devlin had on his backpack and ski mask and looked like the unfriendly neighborhood bank robber. He slipped out the front door, Margie and Rocky re-attached the booby trap over the door, and then they moved into the dark kitchen.
Rocky closed the door on her arm and fumbled for the kitchen light switch. She closed her eyes before she turned it off. When the kitchen door was closed, they had the three dogs, a baby jackrabbit, the tripods, and the two of them shut up in the little kitchen. There was no room to stumble around with a false move. They swapped places. Rocky began the series of photos, while she was watching through the night scope.
Frame after frame, the women hoped they were capturing something on the film.
“There, I see him moving,” Rocky moved out of the way and Margie put her eye to the scope.
“I can’t tell what he is doing, but he has moved over three feet to our left and he is standing up. Get some pictures; maybe he is taking a whiz. We can blackmail him on the Internet,” Margie was giggling and pulling Rocky back into the camera position.
Rocky continued shooting until the film hit the stop. She was using the slowest speed film she owned, hoping to get something usable in the night.
“That finishes the roll, Margie, there is no point of us sticking around here now,” Rocky told her.
"Let me set up my digital on auto, and night, maybe we will ge
t something."
“Stop long enough for me to switch out the living room light...,” she said.
“No, Margie, leave it on, we want his eyes used to the light.
“When we turn it out and go out the door it will take his eyes a few seconds to dilate enough to see in the dark, we can get off the porch without him seeing us.”
They brought all of the animals and themselves into the living room without knocking anything over. Rocky checked the safety on the shotgun and stuffed four spare shells into her shirt pocket. Margie had on her backpack and her flashlight. They reached over the door and pulled the booby trap down.
Turning out the living room lights, even though they couldn’t see where they were going, they managed to slip down onto the meadow and then the driveway. The dogs were ahead of them and Pokey was following a scent, probably Dev’s.
They took a left turn at the county road and then a short walk to where there was a truck parked.
“Think my hubby got here before we did,” Margie was quietly giggling when she pointed out the flat tires on the front driver’s side of the older white beater truck.
They moved over to the opposite road bank and got comfortable for who knows how long a wait. The dogs spread out looking for good scents and small animals to chase. They would come running on a whistle.
“Are you okay with the shotgun?” Margie asked. "Is it on safety? You can’t really shoot the guy.”
"I’m not shooting anything; I won’t even wave it around. Totally, defensive,” Rocky assured her.
They again sat in silence for a couple of minutes.
“Margie, did it ever occur to you to wonder why the burglar didn’t take the shotgun?” Rocky asked.
They sat there long enough that her behind was now flat as a skipping rock. It was hard for her to keep quiet while they watched and listened for the bad guy and Devlin.
“Margie, why didn’t the burglar take the shotgun?” Rocky asked her again, her voice like a foghorn in the quiet night.
“Ouch.” Rocky yelped.
“Sorry, shush,” Margie said as she again elbowed Rocky in her sore rib cage. “Listen, someone is coming across the meadow.”
Ms. Got Rocks Page 17