To The West Part 68

"Then what do you mean by frightening a fellow like that? I say, I like a game sometimes, but that's too bad."

"I--I didn't want to startle you, Esau," I said, hurriedly, as the giddy sensation pa.s.sed away. "Look--look here."

I held my hands open before him, raising one from the other slowly, as I felt half afraid that it was partly fancy, and that when my hand was quite open, that which I believed I held would be gone.

"Well?" said Esau, "what of it? Wet stones? Think you'd caught a little trout?"

"No, no," I cried impatiently. "Look--look!"

I raised one finger of my right hand, and began to separate the little water-worn stones with my palm raised in the suns.h.i.+ne, and for a few moments neither spoke. Then as Esau suddenly caught sight of some half-dozen smoothly-ground scales, and a tiny flattened bead with quite a tail to it, he uttered a shout.

"Hooray!" he cried. "Gold! That beats old Quong; he never got as much as that in his tin plate. Yah! 'tain't gold. Don't believe it! it's what old Gunson called Pyrrymids."

"Pyrites? No," I said. "It's gold; I'm sure of it. Look what a beautiful yellow colour it is."

"So's lots of things a beautiful yellow colour," said Esau, sneeringly, as he curled up his lip and looked contemptuously at the contents of my hand. "Tell you what it is--it's bra.s.s."

"How can it be bra.s.s?" I said, examining the scales, which looked dead and frosted, but of a beautiful yellow.

"Very easy."

"Don't be absurd," I cried, bringing my school knowledge to bear; "bra.s.s is an artificial product."

"That it ain't," cried Esau, triumphantly; "why, it's strong as strong, and they use it for all sorts of things."

"I mean, it's made by melting copper and tin or zinc together. It's an alloy, not a natural metal."

"Don't tell me," said Esau, excitedly; "think I don't know? It's bra.s.s, and it's got melted up together somehow."

"Nonsense," I cried; "it's gold; I'm sure of it."

"'Tain't. Yah! that isn't gold."

"It is; I'm sure."

"It's bra.s.s, I tell you."

"Impossible."

"Then it's copper."

"Copper isn't this colour at all, Esau. It's gold."

"Not it; may be gold outside perhaps. It's gilt, that's what it is."

"You stupid, obstinate donkey!" I cried in a pet.

"Oh, I am, am I? Look here, mister, donkeys kick, so look out."

"You kick me if you dare!" I cried.

"Don't want to kick you, but don't you be so handy calling people donkeys."

"Then don't you be so absurd. How can a piece of metal out here be gilt?"

"By rubbing up against other pieces, of course, just the same as your boots get brazed by rubbing 'em on the fender."

"I believe you think it's gold all the time, only you will not own to it," I cried.

"'Fraid to believe it, lad; too good to be true. Why, if you can find bits like that by just wiggling your hand about in the sand, there must be lots more."

"Yes; enough to make us both rich."

"I say, think it really is gold?" whispered Esau, hoa.r.s.ely.

"Yes, I feel sure of it."

"Look! there's another bit," he cried, das.h.i.+ng his hand down and sending the water flying, as he caught sight of a sc.r.a.p, about as big as a flattened turnip-seed, in the sand, into which it sank, or was driven down by Esau's energetic action.

"Gone!" he said, dismally.

"Never mind; we'll come on here with a shovel, and wash for more."

"But, I say, how do you know it's gold? How can you tell?"

"One way is because it's so soft, you can cut it almost like lead."

"Who says so?"

"Gunson told me."

"Then we'll soon see about that," cried Esau, pulling out and opening his knife. "Sit down here on this stone and give me that round bit."

"What are you going to do?" I said.

"Try if it'll cut. Split it like you do a shot when you go a-fis.h.i.+ng."

He picked the little pear-shaped piece from the sand, laid it on the stone beside us, and placing the edge of the knife upon it, pressed down hard, with the result that he cut a nick in the metal, which held on fast to the blade of the big knife.

"There!" I cried, triumphantly.

"I don't believe it yet," said Esau, hoa.r.s.ely. "Are you sure it ain't that pyrry stuff?"

"Certain!--that all splinters into dust if you try and cut it. I am sure that's gold."

"Ain't much of it," said Esau. "Take four times as much as that to make a half-sovereign."

"Well, if we only got four times as much as that a day, it would mean three pounds a week. It is gold, and we've made a discovery that Gunson would have given anything to see."