"But a mighty good place for him to shoot from," said Wabi, looking
up. "We'd better camp out of range."

"Not until we know what we've struck," cried Rod, unstrapping a pan
from one of the packs. "Boys, the first thing to do is to wash out a
little of that river-bed!"

He started for the creek, with Wabi close behind him bearing a second
pan. Mukoki looked after them and chuckled softly to himself as he
began making preparations for dinner. Choosing a point where the
current had swept up a small bar of pebbles and sand Wabi and Rod both
set to work. The white youth had never before panned gold, but he
had been told how it was done, and there now shot through him that
strange, thrilling excitement which enthralls the treasure hunter
when he believes that at last he has struck pay dirt. Scooping up a
quantity of the gravel and sand he filled his pan with water, then
moved it, quickly back and forth, every few moments splashing some of
the "wash" or muddy water, over the side. Thus, filling and refilling
his pan with fresh water, he excitedly went through the process of
"washing" everything but solid substance out of it.

With each fresh dip into the stream the water in the pan became
clearer, and within fifteen minutes the three or four double handfuls
of sand and gravel with which he began work dwindled down to one.
Scarcely breathing in his eagerness he watched for the yellow gleam of
gold. Once a glitter among the pebbles drew a low cry from him, but
when with the point of his knife he found it to be only mica he was
glad that Wabi had not heard him. The young Indian was squatting upon
the sand, with his pan turned toward a gleam of the sun that shot