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In San Francisco he would be beyond the reach of either, and the city offered many delights to a person of his tastes with somebody else willing to pay expenses. "I'll come," he promised thickly. "So long as you've got the dollars I'll go right round the earth with either of you." "Good man!" commended the prospector. "Bring along another jugful, bar-tender."
A few agreed with Curly that it was strange that the old prospector had not been seen for some time, and that his partner had returned alone. Where was the discovery made? they wanted to know. "Near the Tasan," a man replied. "I've just been to the Recording Office, and found that three double claims have been entered there in the names of Jim Weston, Glen Weston, and Thomas Reynolds.
I come and fin' de Prospector he's ver' mad; mos' awful mad; never see heem lak, dat before. 'Perault, he say, 'get ponee and grub queek. We go for de Los' Reever." "By gar! He's mak me scare. I get ponee an' grub and get off queek, toute suite, right away. Well, we go two day hard and come to de camp where de Ole Boss he's die, den we climb over de montin.
That is the story as David Innes told it to me in the goat-skin tent upon the rim of the great Sahara Desert. The next day he took me out to see the prospector it was precisely as he had described it.
In some cases iron tubes have been used, and although they are very expensive, yet they may pay for themselves, by preventing evaporation, leaking and soaking, which take away much of the water from flumes and ditches. Prospecting. "Prospecting" is the search for gold. The instruments used by the prospector for placer-mines are usually the pan, pick and shovel.
In the early days of a minin' boom there's a lot of trouble. A miner is a crazy fellar often. He'll dig a hole, then move on to dig another. Then if some other prospector comes along to find gold on his last diggin's he yells claim jumpin'. As a matter of fact most of them haven't a real claim till they find gold. An' all that makes the trouble."
He had opened the letter standing outside his hut, where it had been handed to him by the native runner, and Stanley was reading a newspaper near, while Moore affectionately handled an antediluvian gun he was thinking of buying from a prospector. Stanley glanced up, wondering what letters had come, and saw the hovering frown.
Then, when everything was prepared, he once more started out on the trail. Two weeks later a rough and heavy-bodied man, garbed in the rough apparel of a mining prospector, made his way into the sun-steeped town of Toluca. There he went quietly to the wooden-fronted hotel, hired a pack-mule and a camp-outfit and made purchase, among other things, of a pick and shovel.
Memory resurrected for his need certain choice phrases coined in times of stress for the ears of burros alone. Luxury and civilization and fifty-five thousand dollars and a wife were as if they had never been. He was Casey Ryan, the prospector, fighting a stubborn donkey all over a desert slope.
"I heard of your mother that summer, from a prospector who came up past my camp. He'd wintered in Mountain Home. He told me my own story, the way they had it down there, and what straits your mother was in. I had scraped up quite a few dollars by then, and was thinking how I'd shove it into a bank like an old debt coming to Adam Bogardus. I was studying how I was going to rig it.
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