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Updated: June 17, 2025
We break camp at once," fairly snapped the Professor. "Gold man him heap fool," grunted the Indian. "No, not that, Anvik. He is gold-mad like all the rest of them," corrected Butler. "I hope I never shall get that way." "It can't be such bad fun to be gold-mad," argued Stacy, who usually wanted the other side of an argument.
The town needed an establishment of the kind I put up, and as I had always been a good cook I cleaned up handsomely, especially as it was while I was running the restaurant that Miner started his notorious stampede, when thousands of gold-mad men followed a will-o'-the-wisp trail to fabulously rich diggings which turned out to be entirely mythical.
I saw the levees piled with merchandise, and a score or more of packets rushing fresh cargoes ashore mates bawling commands down the gangplanks where the roustabouts came and went at a trot. Gold-mad hundreds thronged the wagon-rutted streets of this raw little village, the commercial center of a vast new empire.
And the miners of this Alder Creek! Why, I'm more afraid to trust them than men like Wood or Pearce. They've gone clean crazy. Gold-mad! If you shouted for your life they wouldn't hear you. And if you could make them hear they wouldn't believe. This camp has sprung up in a night. It's not like any place I ever heard of. It's not human. It's so strange so Oh, I don't know what to say.
The days of the wild rush of gold-mad incompetents were long since past. The human freight of John Dunne's vessel, with the exception of John Kars, was commercial. They were mostly men whose whole work was this new great trade with the north. Kars was one of the first to land, and he swiftly searched the faces of the crowd of longshoremen. It was a desolate quay-side of a disreputable town.
Marshall paused, his eyes staring straight in front of him, a peculiar, dreamy, wild look in them that sent uncanny chills to the hearts of both boys as long as it lasted. What was he seeing? Visions? Visions of what that morning meant to a gold-mad world?
The wreckage of the spring washing appeared everywhere piles of sluice-boxes, sections of elevated flumes, huge water-wheels, all the debris of an army of gold-mad men. "It-all's plain gophering," Daylight muttered aloud. He looked at the naked hills and realized the enormous wastage of wood that had taken place.
Frona felt vaguely disturbed by this great throbbing rush of gold-mad men, and the old scene with its clustering associations seemed blotted out by these toiling aliens. Even the old landmarks appeared strangely unfamiliar. It was the same, yet not the same.
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