“Never fail to understand the reason why gold is so precious,” he said occasionally when the boys were all in. “Perhaps you know now why one ounce of gold costs more than a ton of cast iron. Everything in this world has its true price. Nothing is ever given away.”
The trip alone was of minor importance. The main thing was how to find the metal and how to get it after having found it. In this respect Dobbs and Curtin were still at a greater loss than in knowing how to drive a little bunch of donkeys to a certain place. When still in town, they had thought that prospecting for gold was just like picking up stones in a dry riverbed. Their idea was that you cannot make a mistake, that when you see something that glitters, it must be gold. To their amazement, they found almost every day patches of ground that were covered with glittering yellowish powder, and they found the same glittering sand in brooks and creeks. Whenever they saw this sort of sand, they were sure that it must be the right stuff or at least something that was heavily charged with gold. Howard did not laugh at them. He just said: “I’ll tell you when to pick up. This here stuff wouldn’t pay you a dinner for a truckload unless you can sell it in town right in front of a house under construction.”
Gold doesn’t call out loud to be picked up. You have to know how to recognize it. “You have to tickle it,” Howard would often say, “you have to tickle it so that it comes out laughing. You may walk over it twenty times a day and you won’t see it if you don’t know its call.”
Old man Howard knew gold and what it looked like in the raw. He saw it even if there were only a trace of it in the vicinity. He could tell from the landscape if there might be gold around or not. He knew whether it would pay to spend a day or two at a certain place to dig and to wash and to make tests so as to be sure that to work the ground would pay enough wages for a living. Whenever he stopped to get his frying-pan from the pack and wash a few shovelfuls of dirt in a brook, the boys would know that he had made a discovery.
Five times they found gold. But the amount which could be taken by the primitive means they could afford was not sufficient to pay them a good day’s wages. Once they came upon a site that was very promising, but the water necessary for washing the sand was six miles away. So they had to give up the find.
“Now, don’t you kids think it’s child’s play to prospect for gold,” Howard said to his partners, who were about to lose the last flicker of hope. “Gold means work, and very hard work at that. Just discard everything you have ever read in stories in the magazines. Forget it. It’s all lies. Bunk, that’s what it is. Don’t believe that millions are lying around. There are very few men in the world, or in all history, who have actually made millions by digging for gold. You can’t make it single-handed if you want to have the millions, believe me.”
2
One morning they found themselves entirely surrounded by wild, desolate mountainous country. It looked as though they could not go on nor go back. Panting and gasping, cursing and swearing, the two boys were trying, by cutting the thick underbrush and by climbing the rocks, which seemed inaccessible, to open a trail by which they could go on and at the same time get out of the wilderness. The difficulty became so great that they lost all hope and were ready to give up the whole outfit, leave everything behind, and return to a civilized world, where there were no jobs, but also no such hardships to endure. They were at the edge of what any sane person can bear.
The old man seemed to be in his most hilarious mood. To him, with so many experiences to draw from, such complications were the regular thing when you are after gold.
“Well, tell my old gra’mother I have burdened myself with a couple of fine lodgers, two very elegant bedfellers who kick at the first drop of rain and crawl under mother’s petticoat when thunder rumbles. My, my, what great prospectors a driller and a tool-dresser can make! Drilling a hole with half a hundred Mexican peons around to lend you hands and feet! I still can do that after a two days’ spree, you bet. Two guys and what shit! Two guys reading in the magazines about crossing a lazy river up in Alaska and now going prospecting on their own.”
“Shut your stinking trap!” Dobbs howled. He took up a rock and threatened to use it.
“Throw it, baby, throw it. Welcome. Just do it. You will never leave this wilderness without my help, if you know what is good for you. You two would die here more miserably than a sick rat.”
Curtin tried to quiet Dobbs. “Leave the old man alone. Can’t you see he’s nuts?”
