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“She’s pretty light around here, just a
few colours. Now if you was looking for
gold, I'd sure tell you where to look for
it. I been workin’ these here divides sys
tematic like. The way I figure, the closer
to the Klondike basin, the better she'll be.
You fellow’s got a pan there, try washin’
a bit on the rimrock in the creek bottoms
as you go along. I’m headin’ that way
and maybe will meet you further along.”

There was a gleam of interest in the
dark eyes of the swarthy breed.

“You think find gold down there?” he
questioned.

“You bet I do, she’s gettin’ better all
the time here. Wait a minute, set down
your packs and have a bite to eat and I'll
tell you about the way I got it figured.
This here is the same as in parts of Ne-
vada.”

Throughout the frugal meal the old
fellow kept up a continuous flow of talk.
He had not seen many travellers in the

isolated valleys of the region and was glad
to get going on his favourite topic, gold.
Before the meal was over he had convinced
the three men that they should try pan-
ning on the way down. He made them
promise that should they strike anything
good, one of them would come back and
tell him. His last instructions, shouted at
the backs of the three as they reached the
far end of the valley were:

“Now, I want to know if my theories
are correct. You come back up this draw
and around this end and Ill be in that
valley over there someplace. Cansarn
em,” he muttered to himself, “They sure
aren't talkers any of “em.”

Old Yank stuck to his system of pros-
pecting the valleys leading to the Klon-
dike ‘systematic like’. The following
year he was in a valley one divide removed
from the Klondike basin. He could not
open one hand now, so badly had the
rheumatism got him. He shoved the pick

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Page Forty-eight

handle through the curved thumb and fore-
finger of his right hand and kept doggedly
on. A couple of strangers hailed him. As
usual Old Yank was glad to see them.

“What are you plugging away out
here for?” one of the strangers asked.
“What's the matter with the Klondike
where the gold is?”

Here was the first news of the great
strike on the Klondike basin that the old
timer had received, almost a year after it
was found.

With avid interest, he listened to the
story of the two strangers. They had
wandered, lost, until they had stumbled
onto his valley. Two facts, the old fellow
learned that made him fume.

“A couple of Indians and a breed struck
the first gold. That was last year. They
hit it on Rabbit Creek, just over the hills,
I guess,” said one of the men.

“There's quite a settlement there now,”
remarked the other. “Hundreds of men

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