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Updated: June 29, 2025
Nasmyth did not think that the man had been most strongly influenced by that desire, but he addressed Crestwick: "Hadn't you better gather some more branches or driftwood for the fire, Jim?" Crestwick disappeared, and Nasmyth filled his pipe before he turned to Batley.
Of course, you'll start to-morrow as Lisle told you, and if I'm not back by then, I'll follow the river to the rendezvous he mentioned." He disappeared, as did Crestwick, who came in for supper later on, and as the packers had pitched their tent lower down, there was now only Carew left with the women in camp.
She was afterward even more astonished at her next remark, which she made impulsively. "You have seen a good deal of Miss Crestwick, one way or another." He considered this gravely. "Yes," he replied. "I like her. For one thing, she's genuinely concerned about that brother of hers." "What do you think of him?" "Not much," Lisle answered candidly.
Then it seldom rained, as the high seaward barrier condensed most of the Pacific moisture, but at times the clouds which crossed the summits unbroken descended in a copious deluge, and it was in the midst of such a downpour that Crestwick returned to camp one evening after a week's absence on the trail.
Reaching his shoulders, Lisle stood on them while Nasmyth and Crestwick on the pinnacle beneath looked up at a somewhat impressive spectacle. Lisle's head and shoulders were now above the edge, but he was forced to bend backward and outward by the projecting bulge which pressed against his breast, and his cautious movements suggested that he could find no hold.
Crestwick got down and thrice touched the outside of the card; Batley did better, for two shots broke the edge of the black and one was close above them. It was good shooting at so small a mark, and Lisle was a little anxious as he very deliberately stretched himself out on the mat.
They ate an excellent meal and shortly afterward Crestwick crawled into a wooden bunk, where he reveled in the unusual warmth and the softness of a mattress filled with swamp-hay. He had never lain down to rest in England with the delicious sense of physical comfort that now crept over his worn-out body. Lisle was living luxuriously in Victoria when Nasmyth's answer reached him by mail.
"It's an Indian word for a river gorge. I went up it not long ago." "Then," exclaimed Crestwick, "I suppose you know the mine?" Lisle glanced at the others. Their eyes were fixed upon him, Batley's steadily, Gladwyne's with a hint of uneasiness. It was, he felt, a remarkable piece of good fortune that had given him control of the situation. "Yes," he answered carelessly, "I know the mine."
A few minutes later he was sound asleep; but Lisle sat long awake, thinking hard, while the snow drove by above him. When Crestwick awakened, very cold, and cramped, a little before daylight the next morning, it was still snowing, but Lisle was up and busy preparing breakfast. "That looks like marching; I thought we were going to lie off to-day," observed the lad. "How do you feel?"
It struck him that a healthy interest in any organized work or amusement would be beneficial to young Crestwick. The girl looked at him, as if considering something; and then she seemed to make up her mind. "There's one thing I don't like," she complained. "They will shoot for high stakes. Jim isn't a bad shot, but he's too eager. I'm afraid he's inclined to be venturesome just now."
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