to see th' place. After some delay we was taken to th' top of a big
crag, some distance away from where we had been stopping with the
friendly Eskimos, or Indians, as I call 'em. There, away down below,
was a valley--an' a curious sort of a valley it were. It seemed
filled with big bubbles--bubbles made of solid banks of snow or ice,
an' we was told, me an' Jim was, that these were caves of ice, an'
that th' gold was near these caves."

"Well, of course me an' my partner wanted to go down the worst way,
an' try for some gold, but th' Indians wouldn't let us. They said it
was dangerous, for th' ice caves were constantly fallin' in, an'
smashin' whoever was inside. But to prove what they said about th'
gold, they sent one of their number down, while we waited on th'
side of th' mountain."

"Did he get any gold?" asked Tom, eagerly.

For answer the old miner pulled from his pocket a few yellow
pebbles--little stones of dull, gleaming yellow.

"There's some of th' gold from amid th' caves of ice," he remarked
simply. "I kept 'em for a souvenir, hopin' some day I might git back
there. Well, Jim an' me watched th' Indian going down into th'
valley. He come back in about three hours, havin' only gone to th'
nearest cave, an' he had two pockets filled with these little chunks
of solid gold. They gave me an' Jim some, but they wouldn't hear of
us goin' t' th' valley by ourselves."

"Then a bad storm come up, an' we had t' hit th' trail for home--the
Indians' home, I mean--for Jim an' I was far enough away from ours."