om the
snow reservoirs piled high in the Sierran passes, and the Bar was
flooded, but that passed too, and only the sunshine remained.
Monotonous as the seasons were, there was a faint movement in the camp
with the stirring of the sap in the pines and cedars. And then, one
day, there was a strange excitement on the Bar. Men were seen running
hither and thither, but mainly gathering in a crowd on Uncle Billy's
claim, that still retained the old partners' names in "The Fall and
Foster." To add to the excitement; there was the quickly repeated
report of a revolver, to all appearance aimlessly exploded in the air
by some one on the outskirts of the assemblage. As the crowd opened,
Uncle Billy appeared, pale, hysterical, breathless, and staggering a
little under the back-slapping and hand-shaking of the whole camp. For
Uncle Billy had "struck it rich"--had just discovered a "pocket,"
roughly estimated to be worth fifteen thousand dollars!

Although in that supreme moment he missed the face of his old partner,
he could not help seeing the unaffected delight and happiness shining
in the eyes of all who surrounded him. It was characteristic of that
sanguine but uncertain life that success and good fortune brought no
jealousy nor envy to the unfortunate, but was rather a promise and
prophecy of the fulfillment of their own hopes. The gold was
there--Nature but yielded up her secret. There was no prescribed limit
to her bounty. So strong was this conviction that a long-suffering but
still hopeful miner, in the enthusiasm of the moment, stooped down and
patted a large boulder with the apostrophic "Good old gal!"

Then followed a night of jubilee, a next morning of hurried
consultation with a mining expert and speculator lured to the camp by
the good tidings; and then the very next night--to the utter
astonishment of Cedar Camp--Uncle Billy, with a draft for twenty
thousand dollars in his pocket, started for San Francisco, and took
leave of his claim and the camp forever!

* * * * *

When Uncle Billy landed at the wharves of San Francisco he was a little
bewildered. The Golden Gate beyond was obliterated by the incoming
sea-fog, which had also roofed in the whole city, and lights already
glittered along the gray streets that climbed the grayer sand-hills.
As a Western man, brought up by inland rivers, he was fascinated and
thrilled by the tall-masted sea-going ships, and he felt a strange
se