The St. Mary banner. (Franklin, Parish of St. Mary, La.) 1889-1931, 1901-05-18
FRANKLIN La, SATURDAY, IH14fk 1901 ht7"

the surface, and still not trace OF
the precious metal had met our hungry
. eyes, while every fellowlaborer who
passed us thoughtlessly tantalized us
with the success of our old chums, OF
told us how some new arrivals had
struck gold on the very piece of shall
low ground we had meant to peg out
on the hillside.
"You had better leave me, Ramsey
bad luck sticks to me-" l told him,
despondent!y, on the sixth morning.
'Just as likely l have brought ii
with me- he answered, with a dash of
lis old cheerfulness; lat any rate
We'll have one other fling into the old
hole on this last day of the week"
''Wcll, it must be the very last" l
answered, taking up my pick listless-
ly, and descending.
There is a certain comfort in the
thought that you are doing hopeless
thing for the very last time; there Is
a certain satisfaction in the knowledge
that there are still other corners of the
world open to you. Perhaps it was
this that lent me new energy; at any
rate, l pounded away for a couple OF
hours with will, and none the less en-
crgetically as l discovered that the
character Of the ground was changing.
1t was gravel l had laid bare, gravel
which, before many hours, must prove
to us of what value our labors had
been.
"Now then, that decides 1t one way
or another" l said, as l sent the first
bucketful to the surface. ''If there is
no gold there l shake the mud Of this
claim off my feet for ever"
ton that intimated my ascent after
the bucket, and taking my pick aai
shovel with NE, cast what l expected
to be last look into the depths as
mounted. And yet, in spite OF myself,
excitement. and vague half hope were
stirring at my heart.
''If there is nothing here, we'll shake
hands and part" l told Ramsey, as,
with our burden between us, we start
ell for the creek. He nodded without
answering, and then in silence we
bent over the gravel, washing it as
for dear life. Two-three-ten minutes
passed, and then we stood erect and
looked at each other. A thimbleful
Of yellowish substance lay at the
bottom of the pannikin.
What is it," Ramsey asked huskily.
"It's gold!" l answered, with white
lips. l don't know what we did then.
We dared not embrace each other, for
there were neighbors close enough to
observe any unusual demonstration.
think we stood gazing at our treasure,
and interfering brief comments
hoarsely.
Then we gathered up our tools and
returned to the claim, feeling all at
once strong as Samson, and young with
an eternal kind of youth. After all,
these brief moments do compensate for
many month of toll and privation!
Past experience had taught us the
wisdom Of keeping our own counsel
now, but, in spite of our best efforts,
it was soon understood along the line
that we had bottomed and were wash
ing of sand. A certain esprit de corps
among miners necessitates the COM
rarative value Of yield being made
known, nevertheless we managed to
secure most Of the big nuggets from
the bottom Of the cradle before the
final washing off.
Possession has its own pains and
penalties. For a month, while toiling
by day, we scarcely ventured to sleep
at night, lest some one should descend
our shaft and despoil us Of our treas
ure, but after time the vigilant watch
on us abated. Some Of our neighbors
in adjoining claims had bottomed, and
their proceeds scarcely giving them
wages the value of our find was grave
ly questioned and finally forgotten.
Before we left that shaft we had sold
eight thousand pounds worth of gold,
while in no other claim on the creek
had the treasure amounted to as many
hundreds The explanation was not far
to seek. All the gold was large, and
across our claim lay ledge of rock
that, in past ages, had formed barrier
to the descent of the nuggets as the
current washed them from the reef
above, and here, sought for to right
and left, to front and rear, they had
laid for centuries to enrich Ramsay
and me, just when our worst moment
had come, and when we were nearest
to despair.
OF course, know people would
laugh If we asserted that that gold had
been left there that we might find 1t |
then, but know that miners and sail |
ors and men whose fortunes are not
exactly in their own hands, grow to |
believe more in luck, or chance-call
it what you will-than others do. and
somehow it affords us kind of con
soiation, even when things are dead |
against us, to think that there is plan
in them somehow, and that they will
right themselves for us sooner or later,
here, or somewhere -Waverley Maya
zine.
A PitifuI Sight.
,,y 81