Three months in that little, rough-walled hut had lent it an atmosphere
of home, which a man instinctively responds to with a certain clinging
affection, however crude may be the shelter he calls his own. Cash
secretly regretted the thirsty death of his radishes and lettuce which
he had planted and tended with such optimistic care. Bud wondered if
Daddy might not stray half-starved into the shack, and find them gone.
While they were there, he had agreed with Cash that the dog must be
dead. But now he felt uneasily doubtful It would be fierce if Daddy did
come back now. He would starve. He never could make the trip to the Bend
alone, even if he could track them.
There was, also, the disappointment in the Burro Lode claim. As Bud
planned it, the Burro was packing a very light load--far lighter than
had seemed possible with that strong indication on the surface. Cash's
"enormous black ledge" had shown less and less gold as they went into
it, though it still seemed worth while, if they had the capital to
develop it further. Wherefore they had done generous assessment work
and had recorded their claim and built their monuments to mark its
boundaries. It would be safe for a year, and by that time--Quien sabe?
The Thompson claim, too, had not justified any enthusiasm whatever. They
had found it, had relocated it, and worked out the assessment for the
widow. Cash had her check for all they had earned, and he had declared
profanely that he would not give his share of the check for the whole
claim.
They would go on prospecting, using the check for a grubstake, That much
they had decided without argument. The gambling instinct was wide awake
in Bud's nature--and as for Cash, he would hunt gold as long as he could
carry pick and pan. They would prospect as long as their money held out.
When that was gone, they would get more and go on prospecting. But
they would prospect in a green country where wood and water were not
so precious as in the desert and where, Cash averred, the chance of
striking it rich was just as good; better, because they could kill game
and make their grubstake last longer.
Wherefore they waited in Gila Bend for three days, to strengthen the
weakened animals with rest and good hay and grain. Then they took
again to the trail, traveling as lightly as they could, with food for
themselves and grain for the stock to last them until they reached
Needles. From there with fresh supplies they pushed on up to Goldfield,
found that camp in the throes of labor disputes, and went on to Tonopah.
There they found work for themselves and the burros, packing winter
supplies to a mine lying back in the hills. They made money at it,
and during the winter they made more. With the opening of spring they
outfitted again and took the trail, their goal the high mountains south
of Honey Lake. They did not hurry. Wherever the land they traveled
through seemed to promise gold, they would stop and prospect. Many a pan
of likely looking dirt they washed beside some stream where the burros
stopped to drink and feed a little on the grassy banks.