San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1892-03-22

wept for joy, while Rodolfo danced
about her, crying:
cay, mana! Already there is like foul
pesos! Very soon we will be rich ones!'
The sun was not nearly up the farthe,
side of the Oroque peaks on the morrow
when Rodolfo and his mother were
trudging away toward the arroyo, driv.
ing ahead patient burro borrowed from
Cousin Pablo. Poor Flojo had very
uncomfortable load; for two big kegs of
water were balanced in opposite ends of
a woolsack across the queer little pack
saddle, and bumped his either side. Ro.
dolfo carried on his head rude rocker"
hastily made from a box, and in his
hands heavy, double pointed steel bar
His mother brought the wooden bowl,
and on her head large ola full of
water was confidently poised. The time
mad come when both must work, and
little Chona would have to care for the
young babies at home through the day.
In the earth near his shaft Rodolfo had
dug basin five feet long and three feet
wide and lined it with tight packed clay,
so that the precious water might not be
wasted. AT the upper end was laid a big
fat slab of sandstone from the ledge in
the side of the arroyo, and on this .'foun.
dalton" he set his rocker. 1t was merely
a stout box with one end knocked out,
two rude wooden rockers like those of
an old fashioned cradle under it, strong
handle nailed to one side, and fitting into
its top small square box with a bottom
of coarse wire screen. Under this screen
was canvas apron nailed to frame
and sloping backward. The rocker itself
pitched forward, and across its sloping
bottom were nailed cleats few inches
apart.
Flojo was soon relieved and turned
out to Craze, his forefoot hobbled with
little rawhide handouts, that he might
not stray too far. The rocker was set
up ready for work and beside it a key of
water with gourd dipper.
Dropping his heavy bar down the
shaft-for the pick would be of no use
in the close quarters in which he was
now to work-and tossing after it tin
basin, which would be handler than a
shovel, Rodolfo grasped the rope and
slid lightly down.
Taking the steel bar in both hands he
began to jab it against the close packed
gravel on the up stream side of the
shaft. Frying out first the bigger stones
to height of two feet above bedrock,
and then the coarse gravel, he soon had
started tiny tunnel some two feet in
diameter. AS fast as he filled the raw
hide bucket he dragged it out to the CEN
ter of the shaft and passed the cross
stick on the rope through the rawhide
handles, and his mother, Injured to the
hard work of the frontier, windlassed it
to the surface. The rock she threw
away out in the streambed, but the
gravel was carefully emptied upon "a
clean hard spot beside the rocker, where
it grew apace.
When it was noon by the overhead sun
Rodolfo came up on the rope and they
ate their scant dinner of tortillas (cakes
of unleavened dough cooked on hot,
fiat stone) and water. There was half
yard of gravel beside the rocker (aurifer-
GUS gravel averages about ton to the
cubic yard and "a yard of gravel" is
good days's work for one person.. Truly,
they had worked very well. But were
they on the paystresk? That was what
Rodolfo was very anxious to know-for
the gold that comes swirling down the
stream from the mother veins in the
acts precisely as it acted in
Rodolfo's wooden bowl. It is not dis
tributed at random throughout that vast
volume of accompanying rocks and
sand, but trails along in reluctant file in
the line of the strongest current, and
being heavier according to its bulk than
any of its companions, it keeps sinking
down and down till the great sheet of
bedrock will let it sink no deeper. And
when the rains are over and the raging
torrent becomes but dry wash of sand
and bowlders--for there are very few
perennial streams in the gold regions of
the southwest-the 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 |
put 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- |
ow the last of his tough tortilla. Wash
ng it down with hasty pull from the |
Seg, he shoveled the screen box full of
gravel, and taking the upright handle
With both hands began to sway the heavy
locker from side to side while his mother
poured on water from the gourd. The