Good ting, too.Good mine dere, sure.But old boss he can't stay.He must go, go, go.Den we go up 'noder gulch, tree, four day more, for 'noder mine.Pretty good, too.Den one night we comin' back to camp, old boss feel good.Skeep along lak small sheep.By gar, he's feel too good! He's fall in crik.Dat's noting.No! Good fire, plenty blanket make dat all right.But dat night I hear de ole boss groan, and cry, and turn overe and overe.Light de fire; give him one big drink wheesky.No good.He's go bad all dat night.Nex' day he's het noting.Nex' day he's worser and worser.Wat I can do I can't tell.
Den de Bon Dieu he send along dat half-breed.De ole boss he write letter, an' you come here queek.""Thank you, Perault.A very lucid explanation, indeed.Now, we shall see the patient; and you, Miss Marion, had better remain here by the fire for a few moments."The doctor passed with Shock into the Old Prospector's tent.
"Mr.Macgregor," cried the old man, stretching out both hands eagerly to him, "I'm glad you have come.I feared you would not be in time.But now," sinking back upon his balsam bed, "now all will be--well.""Mr.Mowbray," said Shock, "I have brought the doctor with me.Let him examine you now, and then we shall soon have you on your feet again."The old gentleman smiled up into Shock's face, a smile quiet and content.
"No," he said between short breaths, "I have taken the long trail.
My quest is over.It is not for me."
"Let the doctor have a look at you," entreated Shock.
"Most certainly," said the Old Prospector, in his wonted calm voice.
"Let the doctor examine me.I am not a man to throw away any hope, however slight."As the doctor proceeded with his examination his face grew more and more grave.At length he said, "It is idle for me to try to conceal the truth from you, Mr.Mowbray.You are a very sick man.The inflammation has become general over both lobes of the lung.The walls of the vessels and the surrounding tissues have lost their vitality; the vessels are extremely dilated, while exudation and infiltration have proceeded to an alarming extent.The process of engorgement is complete.""Do you consider his condition dangerous, doctor?" said Shock, breaking in upon the doctor's technical description.
"In a young person the danger would not be so great, but, Mr.
Mowbray, I always tell the truth to my patients.In a man of your age I think the hope of recovery is very slight indeed.""Thank you, doctor" said the old man cheerfully."I knew it long ago, but I am content that my quest should cease at this point.And now, if you will give me a few moments of close attention," he said, turning to Shock, "and if you will see that the privacy of this tent is absolutely secure, there is little more that I shall require of you."The doctor stepped to the door.
"Doctor," said the Old Prospector, "I do not wish you to go.It is more than I hoped, that there should be beside me when I passed out of this life two men that I can trust, such as yourself and Mr.
Macgregor.Sit down close beside me and listen."He pulled out from beneath his pillow an oil-skin parcel, which he opened, discovering a small bag of buckskin tied with a thong.
"Open it," he said to Shock."Take out the paper." His voice became low and eager, and his manner bespoke intense excitement.
"My dear friend," said the doctor, "this will be too much for you.
You must be calm."
"Give me something to drink, doctor, something to steady me a bit, for I must convey to you the secret of my life's quest."The doctor administered a stimulant, and then, with less excitement, but with no less eagerness, the old man proceeded with his story.
"Here," he said, pointing with a trembling finger to a line upon the paper Shock had spread before him, "here is the trail that leads to the Lost River.At this point we are now camped.Follow the course of this stream to this point, half a day's journey, not more; turn toward the east and cross over this low mountain ridge and you come to a valley that will strike you as one of peculiar formation.It has no apparent outlet.That valley," said the Old Prospector, lowering his voice to a whisper, "is the valley of the Lost River.
This end," keeping his trembling finger at a certain point on the paper, "has been blocked up by a mountain slide.The other turns very abruptly, still to the east.Three mountain peaks, kept in perfect line, will lead you across this blockade to the source of the Lost River.""Mr.Mowbray," said Shock, "Perault tells us you only made short excursions from this point where we are now.""Listen," said the old man."I made this discovery last year.I have breathed it to no one.My claim is yet unstaked, but here," said he, taking another small buckskin bag from his breast, "here is what Ifound."
He tried in vain with his trembling fingers to undo the knot.Shock took the bag from him and opened it up.
"Empty it out," said the old man, his eyes glittering with fever and excitement.
Shock poured forth gold dust and nuggets.
"There," he sighed."I found these at that spot.Empty the other bag," he said to Shock."These are the ones given me by the Indian so many years ago.The same gold, the same rock, the same nuggets.
There is my Lost River.I thought to stake my claim this summer.Iought to have staked it last year, but a terrible storm drove me out of the mountains and I could not complete my work."The old man ceased his tale, and lay back upon his couch with closed eyes, and breathing quickly.The doctor and Shock stood looking at each other in amazement and perplexity.
"Is he quite himself?" said Shock, in a low voice.
The old man caught the question and opened his eyes.
"Doctor, I am quite sane.You know I am quite sane.I am excited, Iconfess, but I am quite sane.For thirteen years and more I have sought for those little pieces of metal and rock, but, thank God! Ihave found them, not for myself, but for my girl.I ruined her life--I now redeem.And now, Mr.Macgregor, will you undertake a charge for me? Will you swear to be true, to faithfully carry out the request I am to make?"Shock hesitated.
