The Monticellonian., 1899-06-23
His Last Prospect.
By Stewart E. White.
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| was about all. That is to say, h, prospeeted for the joy of the chase. H. | liked to find lodges of red-brown rock which became pyrites after he had gont down way, and then pure white | quartz. He liked to follow out the | probable dip of the lead, partly by ex perience, mostly by instinct. He liked to dig those rabbit burrows of an ex perimental nature, running straigh, down or straight in, called 'pros. pectors shafts" Thus he would get to know the cross-section of | n hill as you know the interior of the apple you have just cut in two. Thus far Peter succeeded as well, even bet ter, than the best. Then he lost it all He either sold out to parties insolvent, or on insufficient security, or illegally He never seemed to learn how. Other men reaped where he had sowed, while he moved on to blow up a new and yir- gin country.
 The worst of it was that Peter, in a patient way, was trying to gain a com potency Back in Vermont there was a farm with more stones than even these stony hills could show, and with less gold in its haryests than even in Peters negative gleanings-for here Peter at least kept out of debt. But near the snake,fence stood little peak-roofed and clapboarded house, with blinds of emerald green. Over the house rioted Virginia creepers. Near the ancient well swayed lilacs, broad and low. In the old-fashioned front yard was the chirp of crickets and hordes of white butterflies with spots of sulphuryel- low. The house was empty and the yard oyergrown; yet to the vacant rooms of one. or to the choked-out flow CTS of the other, Peter's gentle thoughts ever swarmed, like homing bees. He saw it bathed i'll the sunshine of pros perity. In his vision the yard was or derly, well kept; the house was popu- lous with the affection of loving hearts. For in that Vermont country, these many years, a girl had waited-grow ing older, and quieter, and more re- signed-for Peter and the fortune he was to bring.
 If Peter had had more self-assertiou, he might have retained some of the property he had so patiently relin- quished. If Peter had had less faith. he might have been in more haste to re- turn. And somewhere the qualities of meekness and faith are eXtolled above all else. So Peter came into a gulch one afternoon, when the birds were singing, all alone. In his slow way he built shack. made himself comfortable, and started in.
 First he made a general survey of the country. He went up every little guleh, even to the shallow top of it filled with loose stones; he followed out the skyline of every ridge; he seized frequent opportunities of taking a long diagonal down the slopes. In this he proceeded rapidly, but carefully. None of the broad indications escaped him. He noted accurately the various likes. the general dip" of the country, the general direction of the parallel lodges of strata, the numerous cross-ledges and irregularities of structure. Then he carried with him hand-pick one end pointed, the other forming blunt hammer, and number of canvas bags. From various places near one another he knocked off chunks of the rock, which he broke into fine pieces and mixed thoroughly on an old half blanket. After that he raised the ops posite edges of the blanket, about the center, in such a manner as to divide the crushed rock into two equal parts.
 
 One of these parts he threw away. The other he mixed again as carefully as at first. By a repetition of the process, he at last obtained an average" which he slowed in one of the little canvas bags.
 At the end of the day, he dumped all leverage" into a heavy iron mortar over which pestle was suspended from springy sapling. By alternately pull ing down and letting up on the sapling, the pestle was made to crush the quartz fragments into fine red and white sand This, Peter poured and seraped into a fiaring-sided iron pan, into which he let quantity of water. He then whirled the pan in peculiar manner pausing to rock it back and forth every few minutes. Much of the sand thus flowed over the sides. After the first water was all gone, he poured in some more. Thus he banned the waste out until, at last, nothing was left in the angle but some heavy black grains These were the concentrates. By deft rocking in one direction they were made to string out in long, fan-shaped mass, at the apex of which was the fine yellow gold-that is, where there was any.
 In this way Peter slowly got an idea of the country. Some lodges which seemed to him promising, and yetwhich did not show free gold at the top, he exploited still further. With a charge or so of powder he penetrated to q lay CT below the surface. Or, perhaps Int spent several hard months making ar irregular deep hole like a well, from which he carried the debris in bags climbing up notched tree. Then ht selected more samples This is hard