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With the laugh that followed they started forward again； relapsing into
the silence of tired men at the end of a long journey。 Even their few
remarks were interjectional； or reminiscent of topics whose freshness had
been exhausted with the day。 The gaining light which seemed to come
from the ground about them rather than from the still； overcast sky above；
defined their individuality more distinctly。 The man who had first
spoken； and who seemed to be their leader； wore the virgin unshaven
beard； mustache； and flowing hair of the Californian pioneer； and might
have been the eldest； the second speaker was close shaven； thin； and
energetic； the third； with the pleasant voice； in height； litheness； and
suppleness of figure appeared to be the youngest of the party。 The trail
had now become a grayish streak along the level table…land they were
following； which also had the singular effect of appearing lighter than the
surrounding landscape； yet of plunging into utter darkness on either side of
its precipitous walls。 Nevertheless； at the end of an hour the leader rose in
his stirrups with a sigh of satisfaction。
〃There's the light in Collinson's Mill！ There's nothing gaudy and
spectacular about that； boys； eh？ No； sir！ it's a square； honest beacon that
a man can steer by。 We'll be there in twenty minutes。〃 He was pointing
into the darkness below the already descending trail。 Only a pioneer's
eye could have detected the few pin…pricks of light in the impenetrable
distance； and it was a signal proof of his leadership that the others
accepted it without seeing it。 〃It's just ten o'clock；〃 he continued； holding a
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huge silver watch to his eye； 〃we've wasted an hour on those blamed
spooks yonder！〃
〃We weren't off the trail more than ten minutes； Uncle Dick；〃 protested
the pleasant voice。
〃All right； my son； go down there if you like and fetch out your Witch
of Endor； but as for me； I'm going to throw myself the other side of
Collinson's lights。 They're good enough for me； and a blamed sight more
stationary！〃
The grade was very steep； but they took it； California fashion； at a
gallop； being genuinely good riders； and using their brains as well as their
spurs in the understanding of their horses； and of certain natural laws；
which the more artificial riders of civilization are apt to overlook。 Hence
there was no hesitation or indecision communicated to the nervous
creatures they bestrode； who swept over crumbling stones and slippery
ledges with a momentum that took away half their weight； and made a
stumble or false step； or indeed anything but an actual collision； almost
impossible。 Closing together they avoided the latter； and holding each
other well up； became one irresistible wedge…shaped mass。 At times they
yelled； not from consciousness nor bravado； but from the purely animal
instinct of warning and to combat the breathlessness of their descent； until；
reaching the level； they charged across the gravelly bed of a vanished river；
and pulled up at Collinson's Mill。 The mill itself had long since vanished
with the river； but the building that had once stood for it was used as a
rude hostelry for travelers； which； however； bore no legend or invitatory
sign。 Those who wanted it； knew it； those who passed it by； gave it no
offense。
Collinson himself stood by the door； smoking a contemplative pipe。 As
they rode up； he disengaged himself from the doorpost listlessly； walked
slowly towards them； said reflectively to the leader； 〃I've been thinking
with you that a vote for Thompson is a vote thrown away；〃 and prepared to
lead the horses towards the water tank。 He had parted with them over
twelve hours before； but his air of simply renewing a recently interrupted
conversation was too common a circumstance to attract their notice。
They knew； and he knew； that no one else had passed that way since he
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had last spoken； that the same sun had swung silently above him and the
unchanged landscape； and there had been no interruption nor diversion to
his monotonous thought。 The wilderness annihilates time and space with
the grim pathos of patience。
Nevertheless he smiled。 〃Ye don't seem to have got through coming
down yet；〃 he continued； as a few small boulders； loosened in their rapid
descent； came more deliberately rolling and plunging after the travelers
along the gravelly bottom。 Then he turned away with the horses； and；
after they were watered； he reentered the house。 His guests had evidently
not waited for his ministration。 They had already taken one or two
bottles from the shelves behind a wide bar and helped themselves； and；
glasses in hand； were now satisfying the more imminent cravings of
hunger with biscuits from a barrel and slices of smoked herring from a box。
Their equally singular host； accepting their conduct as not unusual； joined
the circle they had comfortably drawn round the fireplace； and
meditatively kicking a brand back at the fire； said； without looking at
them：
〃Well？〃
〃Well！〃 returned the leader； leaning back in his chair after carefully
unloosing the buckle of his belt； but with his eyes also on the fire；〃well！
we've prospected every yard of outcrop along the Divide； and there ain't
the ghost of a silver indication anywhere。〃
〃Not a smell；〃 added the close…shaven guest； without raising his eyes。
They all remained silent； looking at the fire； as if it were the one thing
they had taken into their confidence。 Collinson also addressed himself to
the blaze as he said presently： 〃It allus seemed to me that thar was
something shiny about that ledge just round the shoulder of the spur； over
the long canyon。〃
The leader ejaculated a short laugh。 〃Shiny； eh？ shiny！ Ye think
THAT a sign？ Why； you might as well reckon that because Key's head；
over thar； is gray and silvery that he's got sabe and experience。〃 As he
spoke he looked towards the man with a pleasant voice。 The fire shining
full upon him revealed the singular fact that while his face was still young；
and his mustache quite dark； his hair was perfectly gray。 The object of
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this attention； far from being disconcerted by the comparison； added with
a smile：
〃Or that he had any silver in his pocket。〃
Another lapse of silence followed。 The wind tore round the house
and rumbled in the short； adobe chimney。
〃No； gentlemen；〃 said the leader reflectively； 〃this sort o' thing is
played out。 I don't take no more stock in that cock…and…bull story about
the lost Mexican mine。 I don't catch on to that Sunday…school yarn about
the pious； scientific sharp who collected leaves and vegetables all over the
Divide； all the while he scientifically knew that the range was solid silver；
only he wouldn't soil his fingers with God…forsaken lucre。 I ain't saying
anything agin that fine…spun theory that Key believes in about volcanic
upheavals that set up on end argentiferous rock； but I simply say that I
don't see itwith the naked eye。 And I reckon it's about time； boys； as
the game's up； that we handed in our checks； and left the board。〃
There was another silence around the fire； another whirl and turmoil
without。 There was no attempt to combat the opinions of their leader；
possibly the same sense of disappointed hopes was