Waterbury evening Democrat., 1892-08-30

and bowldefS-for there are very few
perennial streams in the gold regions of
the southwest cunning yellow fugi-
tives lie still there, never to change
places until some great freshet shall
scour the bedrock bare, or some prying
hand finds their hiding place. So, even if
the miner drop his shaft squarely upon
the paystreak, he does not know which
way to follow it, but must be panning
out sample gravel every little while and
running his drift to one side or the
other according to what the pan tells him.
Rodolfo could scarcely wait to swal-
low the last of his tough tortilla. Wash
ing it down with hasty pull from the
| keg, he shoveled the screen box full of
gravel, and taking the upright handle
with both hands began to sway the heavy
rocker from side to side while his mother
poured on water from the gourd. The
| fine sand rapidly melted down through
the screen and went jolting down the
canvas apron to the back end of the rock
er, where it fell to the wooden bottom,
turned and began to wander forward to
the open front end. When the screen
was washed clear of sand Maria lifted it
out, clawed over the glistening pebbles
to make sure that there was no coarse
nuggets among them, and flung them
out, filling the screen with fresh gravel
and wetting it down as before, while Ro-
dolfo kept on rocking. Time and again
the screen was emptied and refilled, and
all the while the rocking and the pouring
on of water continued. The sloping bot
tom of the rocker was full of sandal
the lower end an inch deep-and this
sheet of sand, shaken by the motion and
coaxed on by the water, kept creeping
over the last rifle cleat and falling into
the clay lined reservoir, from which Ma
ria was now dipping back the water in
stead of from the nearly empty key.
The afternoon shadows were deep in
the round hollows of the mighty Sandals
when Rodolfo rose from beside the
rocker, emptied the screen and straight
ened his stiff legs.
"Now for clean up, nanar' he said.
She poured in gentle stream upon the
apron while he rocked; and, as there
was now no new sand rolling down, that
on the apron and on the bottom of the
rocker began to work rapidly forward,
and in a few minutes there remained
only little sand caught in the angle
behind each rifle. Rodolfo whitfield
out a smooth, thin stick with a square
end, and carefully scooped the wet
sand into his bowl, scraping out every
grain from the cracks, and proceeded to
pan it out. But now, instead of few
handfuls of random dirt, the bowl held
the concentrated richness of half a ton
of gravel from bedrock. That was the
, beauty of the rocker-it would have
taken four times as long to ''work" that
pile of gravel with the pan; the rocker
did the heavy work in short order, and
left only the finishing touches for the
pan.
And now, when Rodolfo had got rid
of most of the sand and began to draw
2 what was left at the bottom of the bowl,
} there was sight for four dark, glisten-
= ing eyes. AS the unstable sand drifted
/ forward and forward it uncovered more
z and more Of a rich, deliberate bank OF
{ yellow, till Rodolfo's trembling fingers
scarce could hold up that precious pan
( from splitting, and excited tears ran
= down Maria's thin cheeks. When at last
he had guided the gold safely into the
s bottle he laid his face to hers and said il
. a voice which was tremulous, but
!, strangely sweet:
f "It is we'll, mana! The governor can
Q not have the serape that was my fathers
And now let us go home"
Q The days went on, and the yellow dus
in the bottle had grown half way to the
top. Here and there in it were little
It rounded nuggets and waXy flakes, which
:, Rodolfo loved to shake up. There wa!
Q whole sack of flour now in the jaca
g and bushel of frijoles (Mexican beans)
n Every day Flojo-who had been bough
l. with one fat nugget-"packed" his loaC
y of water to the arroyo; and every da.
!, Rodolfo and his mother worked on tn
# gravel he sent up. His drift now raj
G thirty feet out from the bottom of tn
o shaft-a narrow, dark, crooked burrow
n at whose farther end he lay upon hi
n side, and pecked away with his bar by
10 candles stingy light. Some days he los
If the paystreak, and the panning out a
G evening was very light; but soon h
IS found it again, and all was well. An
every day the bottle grew heavier an
d brighter, till it was like bar of lead
h lift.
1t One morning as Rodolfo was workin
et in his drift there came sudden dull
IF low rumble, and loosened pebbles fe
upon him. Filled with nameless dread
le he crawled out toward the shaft, but n
SO faint ray of daylight came to meet hi1
Is at the corner. The great bowlder unde
in which he had dug, five feet from the Ell
a trance of the drift, had fallen in! II
I'd had undermined it more than one shoul
In following the paystreak under i
le And now it had crushed out it's grave
ID supports and had fallen and closed h.
le lburrow. He was buried alive! Wit
es trembling fingers he felt across its colo
k, smooth surface. Another bowlder ha
I'd followed it from above and filed il
in place so that he could not dig out abov
" it, and to try would cause cavein thu
n would crush him.
s. Thought chased thought in strane
de procession through his brain. Burie
he alive under eighteen feet of earth an
it stone-his mother so near as that, b1
w never to see him again-his poor mothe
he and just as they were getting the des
a lold that would make them all so happ,