It was with eager interest that the young partners shouldered their picks, lighted their lamps, and prepared to begin work on the second day after their arrival. And yet it was with no little trepidation—at any rate in the minds of the two leaders in the enterprise; for Max and Len well knew that they were relying wholly upon a theory, and were going against not only the experience of the early prospectors and miners here, but against the judgment of the whole population of the district, among which were many miners of practical knowledge. As for Sandy—a stranger to these facts—he was simply full of the buoyancy which hope and novelty lends to every new movement in the line of one’s ambition.{22}

If there is anything more inspiriting than mining for the precious metals, the world has not yet found it. It is the secret charm of how many a fairy tale! By it how many a fable can be practically interpreted! Just before you, perhaps right under the first clod, or hidden in the dark recesses of this very crevice out of which springs the service-bush whose sugary berries you are pausing to taste, lies waiting the all-powerful gold.

But just here halt with me a moment, while I sketch the position and outward appearance of this mine. The entrance of the tunnel had been made in a pretty nearly vertical face of rock, at the edge of the little bench or terrace upon which the cabin stood, and the rock which had been excavated had been brought out by cars running upon a rude wooden tramway, and pitched down into the valley, forming an elongated heap of stone, like the beginning of a railway embankment. This was called “the dump.” The track still remained along the level top of the dump, and{23} one of the small cars, somewhat out of repair, lay overturned beside it, its load, apparently the last brought out of the mine, still half filling its box.

How deep and large the tunnel or drift might be, the boys could judge only by the size of the dump, for a heavy door prevented entrance. From under the door trickled a stream of clear cold water, which had already proved a great convenience. The Aurora mine, a hundred yards below, was almost precisely similar in outward appearance—even to the rivulet, but it had no door.

Breakfast dispatched and overalls donned, their picks sharpened, their lamps “trimmed and burning,” the firm marched up to the portal in single file, Max at the head.

“Open, sesame!” shouted the leader.

“Allee samee open,” echoed Len, in the best Chinese he knew.

“Kai duxon parasitidos gignotai,” muttered McKinnon in broad Gaelic Greek.

But his talisman was no more effective{24} than that of the others, and the door stood firm.

Max struck an attitude resembling Thor with his hammer, and made ready to deal the barricade a splintering blow.

“He that would eat the kernel maun crack the nut,” pronounced Sandy, in as solemn a tone of voice as though he were giving a death-warrant.

“Hold on!” exclaimed Len, seizing his partner’s uplifted arm. “Don’t smash it. I reckon we can get in more peaceably. Let’s try to pry off the lock.”

“Very well,” assented Max; “here goes!”

Inserting his pick-point carefully into the staple clasping the padlock, by which the door seemed to be secured, two or three forcible wrenches pulled it out, and the released latch fell easily out of place.

It only remained to swing open the door and face the burst of icily damp air that rushed out, as though delighted to be set free and allowed to mingle with the sunshine.
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FORCING THE BARRICADE.

Silver Caves, Page 24.

{25}

You will remember that a steady stream of water was described as pouring out from beneath this door, and coursing down the side of the dump in a channel which showed it had long been followed. The water was cold and pure, and had proved a great convenience to the boys in the cabin, who otherwise must have made a tedious descent to the creek-bed for all they wanted to use.

Upon opening the door it was seen that this stream spread itself over nearly the whole width of the tunnel, which was badly made and far from orderly.

The trio were not afraid of mud and water, however, so they pushed their way in, stumbling along over fallen fragments, and in and out of the puddles, feeling that it would take a longer time to clear the path of these obstacles than they could well afford. They had not gone more than thirty or forty paces, however, when the tunnel became choked with prostrate and moldy timbers and great heaps of fallen rock, which they could with{26} difficulty crawl over. No sooner had this first obstruction been passed than a second similar one was encountered, and they began to feel that it was perilous work to proceed under a tunnel roof so insecure as this one appeared to be.

“I wonder how much deeper this thing is,” said Max, after a third great barricade had been surmounted. “What did our dear old friend, the late lamented proprietor, tell you under that head, Lennox?”

“Said it was 180 feet long.”

“But he didn’t mention that it was only six inches wide!” Max retorted, coming to a halt at the same time.

“We may as well go on a bit farther,” Sandy advised. “A Scotchman doesna like to gie it up till he ha’ seen the end of a thing. ‘A’maist and very near,’ I’ve heard, ‘hae aye been great liars.’”

“All right, we’ll explore it as long as we can scramble,” Max rejoined cheerfully, and the three pushed on, enduring many a bump{27} and scratch on hands and toes, knees and elbows, in spite of their lamp light.

Before long, however, progress was completely blocked. A great mass of the roof had fallen where a crevice opened upward and sideways, and out of this crevice gushed a steady stream of water to swell that which trickled from lesser fountains elsewhere, and drained out along the bottom of the tunnel.

“Thus far and no farther. Satisfied, Sandy?”

“Oo, aye. ‘Down wi’ the lid,’ quo’ Willie Reid.”

They were turning back when Max asked them to wait a minute, and taking out a pocket-compass, he noted as well as he was able the direction the excavation pointed at that inner end.

“I suspect,” he explained, “that as it deepens this tunnel bends a trifle to the left—down the creek—on a slight curve following the vein. If so I want to know it.”

Making their way out, he took another{28} compass observation near the entrance and found he was right, though the bend was a slight one.

Before leaving the inner end, the two Americans had selected several specimens of the vein-rock from the sides and roof of the tunnel, and other pieces were gathered as they returned. When daylight was reached they spread these specimens out and talked them over, explaining to Sandy, who turned out rather wiser in respect to minerals than he had claimed to be, what were the prominent characteristics of each kind of rock represented.

A few of the fragments, showing some peculiar brown nodules and threads, they separated from the rest, and compared them with similar pieces taken from the overturned car-load on the dump, which had excited their attention before. None of the rock at the entrance had shown this characteristic; all pieces of that kind, they discovered, had come from the innermost depth.{29}

“If we could get past that barrier I think we should find much more of it,” Max remarked.

“We know well enough as to that,” Len replied, “for certainly that car-load was about the last one brought from the mine, and must show what the breast is made of.”

“What do you mean by the breast?” Sandy inquired.

“The rock across the end of the tunnel into which the digging is carried forward.”

“Well,” Max resumed, “the gangue there, judging by the car-load of specimens, contains more of this brown stuff than anything we saw as far as we went, so I think it is fair to conclude that it increases steadily in that direction, and that if the tunnel were pushed farther the whole vein would be seen, before very long, to be well impregnated with it, taking the place of this useless copper and quartz.”

“Can we not examine the outcrop?” Sandy asked, “and learn something from that?”{30}

The outcrop of a vein is that part of it which appears above the surface of the soil, or enclosing rocks,—crops out, as geologists say.

“I don’t know; perhaps so. It would do no harm to go and take a look at it.”