The Gold Trail

for which they were searching, when Weston rose one morning from his lair among the dewy fern. He did it reluctantly, for durin

visions were running out rapidly. There was a river close by, but he no longer felt the least inclination for a morning swim, or, indeed, for any occupation that was not obviously necessary. H

ndful of flour from the almost-empty bag. This he beat up with water and poured into the hot pan when the pork was done. He watched it until it hardened a little on one side, when he flung it up into

start. This is our la

uttoning his jacket and stretching himself, after

s or delicately perfumed s

n lau

keg camp. In the meanwhile, breakfast's ready

glanced at t

think that human intelligence and man's force of will should be power

ust, he stretched out his ha

g. Now, if I had a little Bourbon whisky I could laugh at despondency and wearine

it of giving out unexpectedly, and I shouldn't like to carry you up this valley. Any

sams, hemlocks, and Douglas firs, among which there sprang up thickets of tall green fern that were just then dripping with the dew. The stiff fronds brushed the moisture through the rags they wore and wet them to the skin; but they were used to that. It was the fallen trees that troubled them most. These lay in stupendous ruin, with their giant branches stretching far on either si

The latter had only a few very hazy recollections to guide him, and during the last week he had not come upon anything in the shape, of a mountain spur or frothing creek that appeared to fit in with them. There was, howe

y climbed up painfully. They were gasping when they reached a ledge of rock a little below the summit, but that was not why they sat down. Both shrank from the first momentous glimpse into the head of the valley, for if there were no lake there they had thrown away their

minutes," he said. "I suppose we couldn't

elt the same temptation. It was in one sense

ned back several days ago. It will be

ade a litt

id, "we'll go

here was still a faint probability that their journey had not been futile, and they clung to it desperately. Grenfell went first, and, when he reached the crest, sto

was no gleam from a lonely lake in the midst of it. From hil

ce grew har

rsely. "There is nothing for

to melt out of Grenfell

my feet the last eight years," he said. "Except for that I should have gone u

ked at Weston with

. You have the world

was, as they say there, likely to have any use, and the fact that he probably had himself to blame for it did not make things easier. Weston fo

, "we'll take t

iled, and his comrade, who carried a double burden and undertook all that was necessary each time they made camp, grew more and more anxious every day, for, though they did not eat enough to keep the strength in them, their provisions were almost exhausted. Nor could he find a deer; and it became a momentous question

ow, steep-sided cleft rent through stupendous rocks; and the white ridge

where I think it does, there's a ravine running down through the neck of the high spur; and once we str

moment, and opened

t we ha

though still very steep, the way grew a trifle easier. It was Grenfell's last effort, and Weston had no courage left to cheer him on. At times he stumbled beside him, and then went on and sat down gasping to wait until his comrade came up with him again. It was a week

the deep silence that wrapped dusky hillside and lonely valley. Then a half-moon sailed out above the dim white peaks, and its pale radiance gleamed on frothing water and dripping stone, and showed the two men still climbing. They drew thei

ong dim spires of trees, until the path once more dipped sharply beneath their feet. They had traversed a wider, shallower valley betw

n the cache. We have cr

ted them, they were certainly going down. The pines grew taller and thicker; withered twigs and needles crackled beneath their feet; though in places they plunged downward amidst a rush of slipping gravel. Still, half-dazed as he was, Weston was puzzled. It see

had left it behind, and was astonished when shortly afterward he stumbled into it to the knees. He had a distressful stitch in his side, which, though he had been conscious of it for several hours, was growing almost insupportable. Sometimes he called to Grenfell, who seldom answered him, just to break the oppressive silence. It seemed to enfold and crush him in

rose in front of them. Weston, blinking about him, discovered in the quaggy mould two foot-prints half filled with water. He called to Grenfell, who leaned on his shoulder while he stooped to see them more

up last night. We are

azed at hi

n the range and the spur," he insisted

d drawn and grim in

you would never find that valley again. It w

ped beside

valley, and we have come back to where we starte

tted that it

case. We can't make the cache no

beneath a great black pine. They had made their last effort, and their strength was s