The Elk Mountain pilot., 1923-03-29

Then he strobe past the swirling
pool of dark water and began to as
cend little slope that led up to a
shelving cliff. Another object halted
the Indian. 1t was a pile of stones,
weathered. crumbled, fallen into ruin,
but still retaining shape enough to
prove it had been built there by the
hands of men. Round and round this
the Yaqui stalked. and his curiosity
attested further uncertainty. 1t
was as if he had come upon something
surprising. Gale wondered about the
pile of stones. Had it once been
prospector's claim?
"Ughl' grunted the Indian; and,
though his exclamation expressed no
satisfaction, it surely put an end to
doubt. He pointed up to the roof of
the sloping yellow shelf of stone.
Family outlined there in red were the
imprints of many human hands with
fingers spread wide. Gale had often
seen such paintings on the walls of
the desert caverns. Aanifestly these
told Yaqui he had come TO the spot for
which he had aimed
Then his actions became swift-and
fact impressed Gale The Indian
searched the level floor under tho
shelf He gathered UP handfuls of
small black stones, and he thrust
them 2t Gale. Their weight made
Gale start. and then he rrembled. The
Indians next move was to pick up
piece of weathered rock and throw it
fraG+ tho hro1 10
snatched up parts, and showed the
broken edges to Gale. They contained
yellow streaks, dun glints. faint trac-
ings Of green. 1t was gold.
Gale found his legs shaking under
him; and he sat down, trying to take
all the bits of stone into his lap. His
fingers were all thumbs as with knife
blade he dug into the black pieces of
rock. He found gold. Then he stared
down the slope, Gown into the valley
with its river winding forlornly away
into the desert But he did not see
any of that. Here was reality as
sweet, as wonderful, as saving as a
dream come true. Yaqui had led him
to ledge of gold Gale had learned
enough about mineral to know that
this was rich strike. All in second
he was speechless with the joy of it.
But his mind whirled in thought about
this strange and noble Indian, who
seemed never to be able to pay a debt.
Belding and the poverty that had
come TO himl Nell, who had wept
over the loss of spring. Laddy,
who never could ride againl Jim
Lash, who swore he would always look
after his friend Thorne and Mer-
cedesl All these people, who had
been good to him and whom he loved,
were poor. But now they would be
rich. They would one and all be his
partners. He had discovered the
source of Forlorn river, and was rich
in water Yaqui had made him rich
In gold. Gale wanted to rush down
the slope, down into the valley, and
tell his wonderful news.
Suddenly his eyes cleared and he
saw the pile of stones. His blood
turned to ice then to fire. That was
the mark of a prospector's claim. But
1t was old, very old. The ledge had
never been worked. The slope was
wild. There was not another single
been there. Where. then, was he who
had first staked this claim? Gale
wondered with growing hope, with
the fire easing. with the cold passing.
The Yaqui uttered the low, strange,
Involuntary cry so rare with him.
cry somehow always associated with
death. Gale shuddered
The Indian was digging in the sand
and dust under the shelving wall He
threw out an object that rang against
the stone. 1t was belt buckle. He
threw out old shrunken. withered
boots. He came upon other things,
and then he ceased TO dig
The grave of desert prosrectorsl
Gale had seen more than one. Ladd
had told him many story of such
gruesome finds. 1t was grim, hard
fact
Then the keen-eyed Yaqui reached
up to little projecting shelf of rock
and took from it small object. He
showed no curiosity and gave the
thing to Gale.
How strangely Gale felt when he re-
ceived into his hands fiat oblong
box! Was it only the influence of
the Yaqui, or was there a nameless
and unseen presence beside that
grave? Gale could not be sure. But
he knew he had gone back to the old
desert mood. He knew something
hung in the balance. No accident, no
luck. no debt-paying Indian could ac-
count wholly for that moment. Gale
knew he held in his hands more than
gold.
The box was a tin one, and not at
all rusty. Gale pried open the re-
luctant lid. A faint old musty odor
penetrated his nostrils. Inside the
box lay packet wrapped in what
once might have been oilskin. He
took it out and removed this covering.
A folded paper remained in his hands.
1t was growing yellow with age.