Captain Bayley's Heir: A Tale of the Gold Fields of California

by G. A. Henty

  CHAPTER XVII.

  THE LONELY DIGGERS.

  THE camp increased rapidly, for although no extraordinarily rich findswere made, the valley bottom widened out at this point, and the gold wasgenerally disseminated in quantities sufficient to enable the miners tolive, and every one hoped that, as they got deeper, their claims wouldincrease in value. Every day added to the number of tents and huts.Three bars competed with each other for the favour of the diggers, andtwo large stores drove a profitable trade in food and mining tools andmaterials; brawls at the gambling-tables were of nightly occurrence, andno small proportion of the gold obtained by the more fortunate diggersfound its way into the pockets of the gamblers.

  "I tell you what, Abe," Frank said, a short time after their arrival,when they heard that a young man had been shot down by one of the mostnotorious ruffians in the camp, "I think it would be a good plan if wewere all to agree that we will not enter one of these saloons. I knowit's a temptation, after work is over, to saunter in there; but I thinksuch a party as we are are enough for each other. We have done wellenough for months out on the plains, and I don't see why we should notdo so now. We are friends, and should be awfully sorry to see any one ofour number losing his share of our joint earnings at thegambling-tables, or brought home with a bullet-hole in his head.

  "If we want a little change, we can always ask one or two of the quietmen to join us round our fire. If we want drink, it is cheaper andbetter to buy it by the bottle, and have a glass in company here. Thereis no doubt that any one who takes to drink here may as well hanghimself at once, for he will never do any good. I don't know that any ofus are inclined that way, but I think it would be a good plan to enterinto a sort of agreement with each other that, as long as we are inpartnership, none of us shall enter a saloon or stake a dollar in play."

  "I agrees with you, Frank. Time has been when I have gone in for asheavy sprees as any one. I don't think as I am likely to do it again,but I am sure that an agreement like that would be a good thing for meas well as the others. What do yer say, boys?"

  "The only thing is," Peter suggested, "that we might, one or other, verywell get into a bad quarrel by refusing to drink when we are asked. Yousee it's pretty nigh a deadly offence to refuse to drink with a man; andif it got noticed that none of us ever went into a bar, there are menhere who would make a point of asking us to drink just for the sake ofmaking a quarrel if we refused."

  "I allow there's something in that," Abe said; "there's no surer way ofgetting into a mess among a set of men like this than in refusing todrink."

  "Well, if that's the case," Frank said, "we must modify the arrangement,and agree that none of us will go into a bar unless actually asked to goand take a drink--that wouldn't be very often, the invitation isgenerally given inside. We come back from work about the same time thatevery one else knocks off, and they are not thinking of going to thebars till they have had a meal, and when we are once quietly seatedround the fire here no one is very likely to ask any of us to get up andgo off to one of the saloons."

  The suggestion was adopted, and all bound themselves not to enter asaloon to drink or gamble unless invited to take a drink undercircumstances in which a refusal would be taken in bad part.

  "I am mighty glad you proposed that," Abe said, afterwards. "Rube is allright, but Peter and Dick are both of 'em fond of going on a spree nowand then, and this may keep them from it. I told 'em when we startedthat I was ready to go partners as long as they kept from drink, but Iwasn't going to tie myself up with any one as was going in for that.When we dissolves partnership each one will have a right to do with hisshare what he likes; he can gamble it away, or drink it away, or fool itaway as he chooses, but no man as drinks overnight will do his fairshare of work next day. Besides, luck may at any time go agin us, and wemay have to fall back on what we have laid by when times were good; andif any one had been and spent his share he couldn't be looking to theothers to support him. Besides, as I pinted out, we might want all themoney we has got atween us to buy up a claim in a good place. Theyagreed to it, and so far they have kept to it; not, of course, as theyhad much chance to do otherwise on the way. Still, I think this freshagreement's likely to do good. We are working here on shares, and eachman is bound to do his best for the others."

  After sitting by the fire for some time of an evening, Frank generallygot up and strolled round the camp, accompanied by Turk. There were manyphases of life presented to him. While the successful diggers weredrinking and gambling in the saloons, there were many who could barelykeep life together. It was true this was in most cases their own fault,for men willing to work could earn their five dollars a day by labouringin the claims of wealthier or more successful diggers; but many wouldhold on to their own claims, hoping against hope, and believing alwaysthat the ground would get richer as they went down.

  Frank chatted freely with every one, and he and his great dog were soonknown to every one in camp. He was able to do many little acts ofkindness to those whose luck was bad; for on arriving at the end of thejourney each of the party had, at Abe's suggestion, put twenty dollarsinto the common fund, and beyond this amount the sum he had brought withhim from Omaha was still untouched; and many a man who would otherwisehave gone to bed supperless after a hard day's work, was indebted to himfor the means of procuring a few pounds of flour and a pound or two ofpork.

  His attention had been particularly attracted to two men who lived in asmall tent a hundred yards away from any of the others, and who worked aclaim by themselves. They did not seem to have any communication withthe rest of the diggers, and kept themselves entirely apart. While atwork Frank had heard several jeering remarks as to the absurdity ofworking a claim in a part of the ground which had over and over againbeen tried and abandoned, and Frank felt sure that the men were doingbadly.

  One day he observed that only one of the men was at work, the younger ofthe two; and as he continued to wield his shovel after the others hadthrown down their tools for the evening, Frank walked over to him.

  "Is your partner ill?" he asked. "I see he is not working with youto-day."

  The man nodded, but continued his work without speaking. He wasevidently indisposed for conversation.

  "Why I asked," Frank said, "was not for mere curiosity, but because wehave brought up with us from Sacramento a few bottles of fever medicine,and other things likely to be wanted here, and if any of them would beof use you will be heartily welcome to them. We ought all to help eachother, for no one knows whether he himself may not want a helping handnext."

  "Thank you," the man said, somewhat gruffly; "we shall get on all right,and my mate isn't fond of strangers."

  "I need not trouble him myself," Frank said; "I can bring you round anymedicines here, and you can give them to him without saying how you gotthem."

  "Thank you; medicine wouldn't do him any good," the man said, andresumed his work as if anxious to avoid further conversation.

  Frank, however, was not to be discouraged. The man looked thin andhaggard, and Frank suspected that it might be food rather than medicineof which the man's mate was in need. He therefore stood his ground.

  "I am afraid you haven't hit on a very good spot," he said. "I don'tknow much about it myself, for I have only been here about a month; butI hear every one say that there have been several trials made here, andthat none of them have found anything to speak of."

  "We must work where we can," the man said. "The places were pretty wellall taken up when we came, and it didn't suit us to go further."

  "Well," said Frank, "I don't want to be inquisitive, mate, or tointerfere in other people's affairs, but I noticed your mate looked anelderly man, and that you seemed pretty much alone. I am only just outhere myself, and I and the party I am working with are doing fairly; soI thought it would be only neighbourly to come over and see if I couldbe of use in any way."

  "No, thank you," the man repeated; "there's nothing we want."

  Frank saw that at present he could do nothing; but
he had little doubtthat the two men were really suffering severely. Still he understood andrespected their pride, and with a friendly "Good evening," strolled offto his own hut.

  The next evening he again went round to the solitary workman.

  "How is your mate?" he asked.

  The man shook his head. "He's pretty bad."

  The tone was softer and less repellent than that which he had used theevening before. He was a young man of not more than three or four andtwenty, and Frank saw that his lip quivered as he turned away from himand dug his shovel into the ground.

  "If your mate is worse," Frank said, "you have no right to refuse myoffer. I cannot help feeling that you are doing badly; in that case, whyshould you not let me lend you a hand? There's no disgrace in beingunlucky. Here men are unlucky one week, and make a rich strike on theweek following, and then they can lend a hand to others, just as a handmay have been lent to them when they wanted it. I think by your accentthat you are an Englishman, and an educated one, just as I am myself.Why on earth don't you let me be a friend to you?"

  The man did not reply; but Frank could guess by the random way in whichhe was doing his work, that a struggle was going on.

  "He would not hear of it," he said at last.

  "Then don't let him hear of it," Frank said promptly. "If he has anymistaken ideas about taking help from a stranger, the sort of ideas onewould naturally have at home, and is ill and wants something, we musthelp him in spite of himself. If, as I suspect, he needs other mattersas well as medicine, you should provide him, even if it be necessary tocarry out a little harmless deception."

  "I would not tell him a lie," the man said, almost fiercely.

  "No, there's no occasion for that," Frank went on. "You can tell himthat you have come across that nugget in the claim," and Frank tossedinto the hole a nugget for which he had half an hour before given adigger ten dollars from his own store.

  For a moment the man stood irresolute, and then burst into a passion oftears. Frank saw that he had gained the day, and saying, "I will comeround for a chat to-morrow afternoon. That's my camp up there--that tentjust on the ridge. I have really medicines, if you think they will beof any use," strolled away to his supper. He glanced round when he hadgone a little distance, and saw the digger running at full speed towardsthe solitary tent.

  The next evening the young man dropped his shovel as he approached him,and came to meet him.

  "I did not thank you last night," he began.

  "Nonsense," Frank said, interrupting; "there is no occasion whatever forthanks. Why, it's the custom here, whenever any one is taken ill, or isunfortunate, and has to move on, a few friends, or, as it often happens,a few strangers, will each chip in a pinch of gold dust to help him on.It's the rule here that we stand by each other, and being bothEnglishmen, it is natural we should lend each other a hand. How is yourmate?"

  "He is a good deal better, thanks to the food I was able to get for him;for, as you guessed, we have been nearly starving the last fortnight."

  "But why did you keep on working at such a place as this?" Frank asked."Why didn't you go on wages? There are plenty of men here who would beglad to take on an extra hand if they could get him."

  The young man hesitated.

  "I know it must seem utter folly," he said at last, "but the fact is mypartner has a fixed idea that claim will turn out well; he dreamt it."

  "Pooh!" Frank said; "diggers are constantly dreaming about luckyplaces--and no wonder, when they are always thinking about them. Iconsider it madness to keep on toiling here, even if your mate is ill.It is folly to give in to him in this way, and for you both to behalf-starved when you can earn, at any rate, enough to keep you both byworking for others."

  "That is just what I knew you would say," the young man replied, "and Ifeel it myself, thoroughly."

  "Then why on earth do you keep on doing it?"

  "I have a reason, a very particular reason, though I am not at libertyto explain it."

  "Well, then, there's no more to be said," Frank replied, vexed at whathe regarded as obstinate folly. He talked for a few minutes, and thenstrolled away, and for the next two days did not go near the digger whoseemed so bent on slaving uselessly.

  The third day Frank noticed that the man was not at work on his claim.As soon as he knocked off in the evening he walked across to the spot.The tools still lay in the hole, showing that the claim had not beenabandoned, although work had temporarily ceased.

  Next day the claim was still unworked; the tent stood in its place,showing that the diggers had not moved away. Although, from theirprevious conversation, Frank thought that he might not improbably meetwith a repulse, after work was done he strolled over to the tent.

  "Are you in, mate?" he asked, outside. "Seeing you were not at work forthe last two days, I thought I would walk over and ask you if anythingwas the matter."

  The young man came out from the tent; he looked utterly worn-out.

  "My father has been too ill for me to leave him," he said, in a lowtone. "I spoke of him as my mate before, but he is my father."

  "Can I do anything?" Frank asked.

  "No, thank you; I don't think any one can do anything. If there were adoctor in camp, of course I should call him in; but I don't think itwould be of any use. He's broken down, altogether broken down. We don'twant for anything, thanks to your kindness."

  "You look worn-out yourself," Frank said.

  "I suppose I do. I have not lain down for the past five days."

  "Then," Frank said, "I insist on taking your place to-night. Is hesensible?"

  The young man shook his head.

  "Sometimes, for a little while, I think he knows where he is, but mostof the time he lies perfectly still, or just talks to himself.

  "Very well, then," Frank said, "he will not know the difference.Besides, you can lie down in the tent, and I can wake you at once ifthere is any occasion."

  The man hesitated; but he was too worn-out to resist, and he made noopposition as Frank entered the tent. An elderly man lay stretched uponsome blankets, one of which was thrown loosely over him. Frank stoopedand put his fingers on his wrist. He could scarcely feel the pulse.

  "What have you been giving him?"

  "I got a piece of fresh meat and boiled it down into broth."

  "Have you given him any stimulants? I think he wants keeping up."

  "He never touches them," the young man said.

  "All the better," Frank replied; "they will have all the more effectupon him as medicine. If you will wait here a few minutes, I will go upto my tent and fetch down a blanket and a few things. I will be with youin ten minutes."

  Frank briefly announced to his comrades that he was going to sit up forthe night with a sick man. He put a bottle containing a glass or two ofbrandy in his pocket, and went into a store and purchased some lemonsand a piece of fresh beef; this he took back to the camp fire, and askedAbe to put it on and let it simmer all night in the ashes, in justenough water to cover it, and then to strain it in the morning, andbring the broth across to what was known in the camp as the "lonelytent." He took a small phial of laudanum and quinine from the store ofmedicines, to use if they might appear likely to be needed, and thenwent back to the tent.

  "Now," he said to the young man, "you lie down at once. If you arewanted I will be sure and wake you. I shall make myself comfortable,never fear; one of my mates will bring me down a pannikin of tea thelast thing."

  He squeezed one of the lemons into a tin drinking-cup, and added waterand a few spoonfuls of brandy, and, with a spoon he had brought downwith him, poured some of it between the old man's lips.

  "I don't know whether it's right," he thought to himself, "but it's thebest thing I can do for him. It is evident he must be kept up. When Abecomes down I will ask his advice; after knocking about as many years ashe has been, he ought to know what is the best thing to be done."

  In half an hour he gave the patient a few spoonfuls of the broth whichhad been prepared, and co
ntinued every half-hour to give him thelemonade and broth alternately.

  When Abe came down with the tea Frank went outside to meet him, andexplained some of the circumstances of the case, and then took him in tosee his patient.

  THE SICK FRIEND IN THE MINING CAMP.]

  "I think you are doing the right thing, lad," Abe said, when they wentout into the air again. "He is evidently pretty nigh gone under. Iexpect he has been working beyond his strength, and starving, likeenough, at that. He's regular broke up, and has got the fever besides. Ishould just keep on at that till morning, and then we shall see; if hegets on raving you might give him a few drops of laudanum with hisbrandy, but I wouldn't do it otherwise. I will bring down that brothfirst thing in the morning, it will be a sight stronger than that stuffyou are giving him now."

  Fortified by this opinion, Frank lit his pipe, and sat down to his longwatch. He was the more satisfied that he was doing right by the factthat the pulse was distinctly stronger than it had been when he firstfelt it. Occasionally the patient muttered a few words, but he generallylay perfectly still, with his eyes staring wide open. It was this fixedstare that tempted Frank at last to give him a few drops of laudanum,and in an hour later he had the satisfaction of seeing him close hiseyes.

  Abe was round soon after daylight, with two pannikins of tea, somerashers of bacon, and a jug of the essence of beef.

  "How is your patient, Frank?"

  "I can't tell, except by his pulse; but that certainly seems to me to bestronger. I gave him a few drops of laudanum a couple of hours ago, andit seems to me he has been dozing since; at any rate his eyes have beenhalf-closed. I think that it is extreme weakness more than anythingelse; he has overtaxed his strength, and is worn-out with fatigue andstarvation. I shouldn't be surprised if he gets round all right withquiet and food." The opening of the tent, and the sound of voicesoutside, roused the younger digger, who had slept without stirring fromthe moment he had lain down. He joined the others outside.

  "How I have slept!" he said. "I can't tell you how much I am obliged toyou; I was regularly done up, and now I shall be able to take a freshstart again."

  "My partner, Abe, here, has just brought us down some tea and breakfast,and some really strong soup for your mate." For Frank did not knowwhether the young man would wish the fact of the relationship betweenhim and his companion generally known.

  "Thank you, heartily," the young man said, as he seated himself by theside of Frank, on the stump of a felled tree, and took the tea and foodfrom Abe's hands.

  "I feel ready to go on again now; but last night I quite broke down. Ihave no one to speak to, you see, and it was awful to see him lyingthere, and to be able to do nothing. Your friend here," and he nodded toFrank, "had been so kind to us a week ago, that I felt sure he would notmind sitting up with him, though I know he thought me a fool to go ondigging at that wretched hole. I think he looks "--and he motioned tothe tent--"a little better this morning. Of course there's not muchchange; but his face does not look quite as it did yesterday. I don'tknow what the difference is, but I am sure there is a difference."

  "His pulse is certainly a little stronger," Frank said, "and I hope weshall pull him round, though I did not think so when I saw himyesterday. I have been giving him broth every hour, and a few spoonfulsof lemonade with brandy in it between times, and I think the brandy hasdone him more good than the soup; if I were in your place, I would go ondoing just the same to-day. This soup Abe has brought down is verystrong, and two or three spoonfuls at a time will be all he will want;there is another lemon in there, and I would go on giving him brandytoo; I think it's just strength he wants."

  "Strength and hope," the young man said. "He has all along made up hismind that claim would pay, and I think its failure did more to break himdown than even the fatigue and want of food; that was why I kept onworking as long as he was sensible. He still believed in it, and wouldnot hear of my stopping to nurse him. He was very bad that night I wenthome with the nugget, almost as bad as he was last night; but when Ishowed it him he seemed to revive, and it was only when three dayspassed without my being able to show another spec of gold that he fellback again."

  "Oh! you did find a nugget, then?" Abe said. "No one thought you wouldstrike on anything thar."

  "I found it because your friend put it there," the young man said, "andhe saved both our lives, for we were starving."

  Abe grunted.

  "You shouldn't have kept it so dark, lad. We ain't bad fellows, wediggers, though we are a rough lot, and no one need starve in a miningcamp. But no doubt you had your reasons," he added, seeing the miner'sface blush up. "But what on arth made your mate stick to that thar hole?Any one could have seen with half an eye that it wasn't a likelyplace."

  "He has a sort of belief in dreams, and he dreamt three times, as hetold me, of a stunted tree with gold underneath it. We have been to halfthe mining camps in the country, and never had any luck; but directly hecame here he saw a tree standing just where our claim is, and hedeclared it was the one he dreamt of. I told him then it didn't seem alikely place to work, but he would have it that it was the tree, andthat there was gold under it. He was already weak and ill, and to pleasehim I set to work there. I may tell you, as I have told your friend,that he is my father; there is no reason that there should be anymystery about it, and my only reason for wishing that it should not begenerally known is that he had a sort of fancy against it."

  "I guessed as much, young man," Abe said, "when I saw you workingtogether three weeks ago. A young man don't tie himself to an oldpartner who ain't no more good than a child at work unless there's somereason for it, and there's many a father and son, aye, and a father andfour or five sons, working together in every mining camp here. Still, ifthe old man has a fancy agin it we will say nought on the subject. So hedreamt three times of the tree, did he? Well, then, I don't blame himfor sticking to the claim; I don't suppose there are a dozen miners inthis camp who wouldn't have done the same. I believes there's somethingin dreams myself; most of us do. And he recognised the tree directly,you say? Wall, it's time for my mate and I to be off to work, but thisevening I will walk round and have a look at your claim; thar may besomewhat in it, arter all."

  "You don't really believe in dreams, Abe?" Frank said, as they walkedoff together.

  "I think thar's something in 'em," Abe said. "I have heard many a queerstory about dreams, and I reckon thar ain't many men as has lived outall thar lives in the plains as doubts thar's something in 'em. TheInjins believe in 'em, and, though they ain't got no books to larn 'em,the Injins ain't fools in their own way. I have known a score of caseswhere dreams came true."

  "Yes, I dare say you have," Frank said; "but then there are tens ofthousands of cases in which dreams don't come true. A man dreams, forinstance, that his wife, or his mother, or some one he cares for, isdead; when he gets home he finds her all right, and never thinks anymore about the dream, or says anything about it. If in one case out often thousand he finds she is dead, he tells every one about his dream,and it is quoted all about as an instance that dreams come true."

  "Yes, perhaps there's something in that," Abe agreed. "But I thinkthere's more than that too. I know a case of a chap who was out in theplains hunting for a caravan on its way down to Santa Fe. There weren't,as far as he knew, any Injins about, and what thar was had always shownthemselves friendly and peaceable. He laid down by the fire and went tosleep, and he dreamed that a party of Injins scalped him. He woke in aregular sweat from fright, and he was so badly scared that he scatteredthe ashes of his fire and took to his horse, and led him into a cedarbush close by. He hadn't been thar twenty minutes when he heard trampingof horses, and along came a party of Injins. They halted not twentyyards away from where his fire had been, and camped till the morning,and then rode on again. He could see by thar dress and paint they wereup to mischief, and the very next day they fell upon a small caravanand killed every soul. Now that man's dream saved his life; thar warn'tno doubt about that. If he ha
dn't had warning, and had time to scatterhis fire, and move quiet into the bush, and get a blanket over hishorse's head to prevent it snorting, it would have been all up with him;and I could tell you a dozen tales like that."

  "I think that could be accounted for," Frank said. "The man perhaps wassleeping with his ear on the ground, and in his sleep may have heard thetramping of the Indians' horses as they went over a bit of stony ground,long before he could hear them when he arose to his feet, and the noiseset his brain at work, and he dreamt the dream you have told me. But Iknow from what I have heard that gold-miners are, almost to a man, fullof fancies and superstitions, and that they will often take up claimsfrom some idea of luck rather than from their experience and knowledgeof ground."

  After the work was over Abe and Frank went down to the claim.

  "Well, I am free to own," Abe said, "that I don't see no chance of goldhere; it's clear out of the course of the stream."

  Frank was silent for two or three minutes, and then said:--

  "Well, Abe, you know I put no faith whatever in a dream, but if you lookat that sharp curve in the opposite bank higher up, you will see that itis quite possible that in the days when this was a river instead ofbeing a mere stream, it struck that curve and came over by where we arestanding now. As the water decreased it would naturally find its waydown the middle of the valley, as it does now; but I think it likelyenough that in the old times it flowed under where we are standing."

  "By gosh, lad, I think you are about right. What do you say to ourtaking up the claims next to this? We are not doing much more thanpaying our way where we are, and it's the horses who are really earningthe money."

  "I don't know, Abe. We are a good deal above the present bed of thestream, and should probably have to sink a considerable distance beforewe got down to paying ground; that young fellow said they have hardlyfound a speck of gold. It would be a risky thing to do; still, we canthink it over, there's no hurry about it."

  That night Abe insisted on taking his turn to sit up with the old man.The son, who had now told them that his name was James Adams, urged thatthe previous night's long sleep had quite set him up again, but Abewould not listen to him.

  "It's done you good, lad, no doubt, but ye will be all the better foranother. It wants more than one night's sleep when you have had four orfive out of bed, and a night's watch is nothing one way or other to me.You just do as you are told."

  So James Adams had another long night's sleep, while Abe sat by hisfather.

  There was no doubt now that the old man was recovering from theexhaustion which had brought him to death's door; the set, pinched lookof his features was passing away, and the evening following Abe's watch,when Frank went round to the tent to inquire how he was getting on, theson came out and said--

  "He is better. He went off this morning in what looked like a naturalsleep, and when he woke, an hour ago, I could see that he knew me. Idon't suppose he knew he had been lying insensible for a week, butthought I had just come back from work. He whispered, 'How does it lookto-day, Jim?' and after what you told me about what you thought aboutthe old course of the river, I was able to say honestly, 'I think thechances look more favourable.' He whispered, 'We shall make a fortuneyet, Jim,' and then drank some soup and went off to sleep again.Tomorrow morning I will set to work again. I don't believe a bit in thedream myself, but it will make him more comfortable to know that I am atwork upon it; and after all it may turn out some good."

  "My partners have more faith in it than I have," Frank said. "Abe toldthem about the dream, and about what I had noticed of the probablecourse of the river in the olden times, and I have a proposal to make toyou. We will take up five claims by the side of your two, two on oneside and three on the other; then three of us will help you sink yourshaft. All that's found in your claims will be yours; and if it turnsout rich you shall pay us just as if we had been working for you by theday. When we have cleared out your claims we are to have the right ofusing your shaft for working right and left along the bottom over ourclaims. I think that's a fair offer."

  "I think it's more than fair; it is most kind," the young man said. "Youare risking getting nothing for your labour if it turns out poor."

  "Yes, we are risking that," Frank agreed, "but we are not doingourselves much good now. The two who are working the horses earn enoughto keep the five of us, and if by any chance your claims should turn outwell, we shall be paid for our work for you, and will be able to workout our own claims very cheaply; if we sunk a shaft on our own accountwe should similarly lose our labour if it turned out poor, and shouldnot get so much if it turned out rich. So I think the bargain is reallya fair one; and if you do not agree, my mates have quite resolved tosink a shaft on their own account on the strength of your father'sdream."

  "In that case I agree most heartily," James Adams said, "and it willgladden my father's heart to be told that the work is now to go onreally in earnest."

  "If he is better to-morrow," Frank said, "it will be as well to get yourfather's consent to the agreement, and then we will begin on thefollowing day."

  The next morning the old man woke up a good deal better. His firstquestion, after he had taken some soup, was--

  "How is it you aren't at work, Jim? It's broad daylight."

  "I have knocked off for to-day, father, I wanted to have a chat withyou. A party of five miners, who have been very kind to me while youhave been ill--for you have been ill now for more than a week, thoughyou don't know it--have made me a very good offer, although I could notaccept it until I consulted you. You see I cannot get on much with theclaim by myself; the ground falls in and wants timbering, and I can donothing alone. Well these miners have offered to help sink our shaft, onthe conditions that they get no pay if it turns out poor, but if itturns out well they are to be paid for their daily labour, and when wehave worked out our claims they are to have the right of using our shaftfor working out the claims they have staked out next to ours."

  "No shares, Jim," the old man said; "you are sure they are not to haveany share in our claims, because I won't agree to that."

  "No, father; the agreement is just as I told you. If it turns out wellthey get their wages and the right to use our shaft to get at theirclaims."

  "Very well, I will agree to that; we shall get down all the sooner toour gold. But mind, have it put down on paper, else they will be settingup a claim to a share in our treasure."

  "I will get it done regularly, father," Jim said. "They mean veryfairly. As I told you, they have shown me the greatest kindness--indeedyou owe your life to them, for if it had not been for them, I had, asyou know, no means whatever of holding on. Whilst you have been ill twoof them have been sitting up with you at night. They have showedthemselves true friends."

  "Well, I am glad you have found some friends, Jim," the old man saidfeebly. "But you must be careful, you know, very careful, and be surethe agreement is signed and witnessed properly."