give it a chance, my son," said the big fellow cheerily. "A
river can't flow till it begins to thaw a bit. Chap tells me it's very
late this year, but it'll break up and clear itself in a few hours.
Says it's a sight worth seeing."

"But we did not come to see sights," said Abel peevishly. "Where's that
other man?"

"Gone. Told me to tell you both that he was very grateful for the help
you had given him, and that now he's going to shift for himself."

"The way of the world!" said Dallas dismally.

"Oh, I don't know, my son. He's right enough. Said if he had the luck
to find a good claim up one of the creeks he should peg out five more
alongside of it and come and look us up, and made me promise I'd do the
same to him. What do you think of that?"

"Nothing," said Dallas. "I'm too tired out to think of anything but
eating and sleeping, and there seems to be no chance of finding a place
to do either."

"No, my son; it's a case of help yourself. I've been having a look
round, and the only thing I can find anybody wants to sell is whisky."

"Yes, that was all they had at the store I went to. That's the place
with the iron roof and the biscuit-tin sides--yonder, where those
howling dogs are tied up."

"Ah, I went there," said the Cornishman, "and the Yankee chap it belongs
to called it his hotel. But to go back to what we are to do next, my
son. We mustn't stay here, but go up to one of the little streams
they're talking about, and peg out claims as soon as we find good signs.
Now, I've been thinking, like our chap who lost his knife, that we'd
better separate here and go different ways. If we find a good place
we'll come to you, and if you find one you'll share with us. What do
you say?"

"Tired of our company?" asked Abel bitterly.

The big fellow turned to him and smiled.

"Look here, my son," he said, "that foot of yours hurts you more than
you owned to. You take my advice; after we've got a bit of a fire and
made our camp and cooked our bit o' supper, you make a tin o' water hot
and bathe it well, and don't you use that foot much for a day or two.
No, my sons, I'm not tired of you. If I had been I should ha' said
good-bye days ago. I'm sorry for us to break up our party, but I've
been thinking that what I proposed was the best plan, even if it does
sound rough."

"Yes, I suppose it is," said Dallas, speaking in a more manly way. "I
beg your pardon. So does my cousin here. We're fagged