is
defacement of the mountain, the rude clearing of thicket and underbrush
by fire or blasting, the lopping of tree-boughs and the decapitation
of saplings, might be added the debris and ruins of half-civilized
occupancy. The ground before the cabin was covered with broken boxes,
tin cans, the staves and broken hoops of casks, and the cast-off rags
of blankets and clothing. The whole claim in its unsavory, unpicturesque
details, and its vulgar story of sordid, reckless, and selfish occupancy
and abandonment, was a foul blot on the landscape, which the first rosy
dawn only made the more offending. Surely the last spot in the world
that men should quarrel and fight for!

So thought George Barker, as with his companions they moved in single
file slowly towards it. The little party consisted only of himself,
Demorest, and Stacy; Marshall and Hamlin--according to a prearranged
plan--were still in ambush to join them at the first appearance of
Steptoe and his gang. The claim was yet unoccupied; they had secured
their first success. Steptoe's followers, unaware that his design had
been discovered, and confident that they could easily reach the claim
before Marshall and the surveyor, had lingered. Some of them had held
a drunken carouse at their rendezvous at Heavy Tree. Others were still
engaged in procuring shovels and picks and pans for their mock equipment
as miners, and this, again, gave Marshall's adherents the advantage.
THEY knew that their opponents would probably first approach the
empty claim encumbered only with their peaceful implements, while they
themselves had brought their rifles with them.

Stacy, who by tacit consent led the party, on reaching the claim at
once posted Demorest and Barker each behind a separate heap of quartz
tailings on the ledge, which afforded them a capital breastwork, and
stationed himself at the mouth of the tunnel which was nearest the
trail. It had already been arranged what each man was to do. They were
in possession. For the rest they must wait. What they thought at
that moment no one knew. Their characteristic appearance had slightly
changed. The melancholy and philosophic Demorest was alert and bitter.
Barker's changeful face had become fixed and steadfast. Stacy alone wore
his "fighting look," which the others had remembered.

They had not long to wait. The sounds of rude laughter, coarse
skylarking, and voices more or less still confused with half-spent
liquor came from the ro