The Press., 1896-07-30
"There ain't anything more uncer-


 may be hunting for the Lost Mine. If you join me, you may jump out of the frying pan into the fire "
 "I'll risk it. Go ahead and let me hear your proposal. I tell you before hand,. though. that shall accept it. ''
 "It's a long story. We shall have time enough on the way out-three days on the train and good ten days on foot and with the burros. You shall hear it all then. The nugget of it is this: Ten years ago got on the trail of the Lost Mine of Cibola. The Spaniards worked it 300 years ago. When the Indians drove them away, they covered up the mouth of the mine, and no one has -heen able to find it since Every fool pToR- pector in the territory has hunted for iG, but not long at time. They lost the trail too quick. I have stuck at it ten years. and used up my last dollar. I went east to get another years grub stakes from an old partner, but hos gone dead"
 "And you want me to do this, and to go with you2"
 "Yes, if the snowdrifts and the desert don't scare you out-and don't believe they will
 "When shall we start?'' "Tonight if you are ready" "The sooner the better, and here is my hand to seal our bargain"
 During the journey 10 Flagstaff, where they were to leave the railroad, there was much opportunity for the acquaintance between the two men to %o ind liking the other better as the days passed.
 Easton had much to tell of his ten years untiring search, of the dangers and hardships he had endured, and of his marvellous escape, all recited in such simple and ostentatiOus man. ner that Dick pulled himself up with little start of surprise every now and then at realizing that his companion was the hero of his own talo. But there was no undue modesty or simplicity about the old fellow when he brought up strange tale and legend to corroborate his own belief in the existence of the Lost Mine, and of the Golcondalike treasure that should be theirs when it was found again.
 At Flagstaff they outftted for the long journey over the mountains.
 "Ihave few traps on the other side," said Easton. II left lem in charge of my Apache boy, the only honest one ever found. But we might as well outfit for years stay while we are at it. "
 When they started, their outfit con- sisted of six burros, four loaded down with provisions, tools, ammunition and camp equipage, and two more to carry the owners.
 When camp was made at the end of the first days march, Dick was full of enthusiasm. He watched the old from tiersman s preparations for tho night and found that he could be of help, collect ing brushwood and building the fire for supper while his companion was unload ing and picketing the burros. After sup per each smoked a pipe and then stretch ed himself to sleep under the clear sky. Easton, accustomed to that sort of life, was soon off in @ sound slumber. But the surroundings were so strange that Dick, although wearied with the days journey, was wakeful and restless The vast silence oppressed him, the stars gleamed with uncanny brilliance, the snow capped domes of the Mogollons caught and reflected back across the plain the yellow moonlight. Now and l then one of the burrOs would lift his voice and make weird and hideous break in the abounding peace of the night. A jack rabbit, making his way over the sagebrush in long, unc01th leaps, sent queer shadows gyrating about
 Dicks thoughts went back in contrast to Wayneland and to that night--was it possible that not a whole week had gone since then-when he sat in the vine covered porch with Norah Dale. He wondered just what she meant by man doing something He wished he had ask ed her. If he ever had chance, he be, lieved, he could do something. But nowadays there were no chances. Life was such humdrum thing
 And thus he fell asleep.
 For two days more they journeyed to- ward the mountains, the ratliantly clear atmosphere cheating Dick always as to distance. Then they began to climb up and up toward the snow capped sum- mits. Their path lay now along the nar- row lodges that edged steep precipices, again through deep canyons where the light scarcely penetrated at midday. There they could not travel very fast, and it was two days more before they reached the snow line.
 ''It is a hard climb, but this is the only way to get there that ever I could f1nd," said Easton as they made camp for the night, 5000 feet above the sea level. We're up in the world now, my boy, if we never are again. By tomor- row night we shall be over the worst of it if we have good luck-over the worst of the mountain mean. Then comes the desert.''
 The next morning Easton began the march with unusual care. First he slowed the freight anew upon the bur ros, and dashed everything tight in a way that would have won a sailors ad- miration. Then he jointed together some stout rods, making staffs for him. self and Dick. These were about 15 feet long and tipped with steel points.
 Don't step upon anything until you have prodded it with this" he said to Dick; "nor put your foot on any snow until you have run the staff down to see how deep it is.
 They took up the line of march in single file-Easton ahead, Dick next, and the patient, faithful, sure footed beasts following.
 It was hardly light when they set out, but soon the sun had arisen and lighted the whole with a great glory. All about and above them lay the vast fields of untrodden snow. The sunlight touched it and turned 1t all into myriads of sparkling crystals. The towering peaks of the mountain gleamed like shafts of porphyry. The plain below seemed un- real-so close below them did it appear while every sense but that of sight told of the distance which had been traversed since leaving it. There was oQ