, as the surf of Kon Klayu was too heavy
to permit surf-mining. Marking the spot with a piece of drift Boreland
continued down the beach with the others.

They followed the shore as far as the site of the West Camp looking for
further patches of ruby sand, but found none.

Having learned that by the aid of a hairpin and Boreland's knife they
could pick up the colors of gold that were caught in the crevices,
Ellen and Jean were on their knees examining the seams in the bedrock
when Kayak and Harlan arrived. The particles of gold were
extraordinarily flat and thin, and the largest flakes only could be
seen with the naked eye. There were few of these, but no miner was
ever prouder of his spring clean-up than was Jean of the ten colors she
collected in her drinking cup.

Harlan could hardly credit his eyesight when he beheld the yellow
flakes Jean showed to him. . . . Gold on the Island of Kon Klayu after
all! . . . Then he recalled that on that memorable night of the
Potlatch dance the White Chief had admitted there was gold, but while
the tides occasionally uncovered pay-sand rich beyond most placers,
there would follow months when not a single color showed up in the
sands of Kon Klayu. It was not a paying proposition. This deposit of
ruby sand must be what Kayak Bill called a mere "flash in the pan."
Though he tried not to let his co-workers become aware of it, Harlan
was filled with doubts.

All that day, while the tide permitted, the men wheeled pay-sand to a
place of safety above the high-tide line and the following morning, the
cart, speeding before a spanking breeze, carried all the mining outfit,
including Loll's rocker, down to the pay-dirt. Ellen, because of
household duties was the only one to remain at the cabin.

Once more the night-tide had shifted the sands, and they found no trace
of any gold-carrier. The bedrock that had been bare the day before now
lay under several feet of gravel. The complete change in the
topography of the shore was almost weird. It filled them with
wondering and a strange respect for the mysterious workings of the sea.

The rockers were set up on the beach just below Bear Paw Lake, and with
a flume made of a series of boards nailed together in a V-shape, water
was conveyed to the hopper of the rocker. Jean and Loll, before
beginning their own preparations, watched while Boreland and his two
helpers rocked out the first gold. After glints of yellow began to
appear i