ug of earth
severing his channel from the deep, reluctant hole. And then I saw the
wisdom of his way of working: for if he had dug downward from the pool
itself, the water would have followed him all the way, and even drowned
his tool out of its own strokes; whereas now, with a swirl and a curl of
ropy mud, away rushed the thick, sluggish, obstinate fluid, and in less
than two minutes the hole was almost dry.

The first thing I saw was my golden eagle, lodged about half-way down
the slope on a crust of black sludge, from which I caught it up and
presented it to Master Withypool, as a small token and record of his
kindness; and to this day he carries it upon his Sunday watch chain.

"I always am lucky in finding things," I exclaimed, while he watched
me, and the up stream too, whence a babble of water was approaching. "As
sure as I live I have found it!"

"No doubt about your living, miss. And the Captain were always lively.
But what have your bright eyes hit upon? I see nort for the life of me."

"Look there," I cried, "at the very bottom of it--almost under the
water. Here, where I put my spud--a bright blue line! Oh, can I go down,
or is it quicksand?"

"No quicksand in our little river, miss. But your father's daughter
shannot go into the muck, while John Withypool stands by. I see un now,
sure enough; now I see un! But her needeth care, or her may all goo away
in mullock. Well, I thought my eyes was sharp enough; but I'm blest if I
should have spied that, though. A bit of flint, mebbe, or of blue glass
bottle. Anyhow, us will see the bottom of un."

He was wasting no time while he spoke, but working steadfastly for his
purpose, fixing the blade of his shovel below the little blue line I
was peering at, so that no slip of the soft yellow slush should bury
it down, and plunge over it. If that had once happened, good-by to all
chance of ever beholding this thing again, for the river was coming,
with fury and foam, to assert its ancient right of way.

With a short laugh the miller jumped down into the pit. "Me to be served
so, by my own mill-stream! Lor', if I don't pay you out for this!"

His righteous wrath failed to stop the water from pouring into the pit
behind him; and, strong as he was, he nearly lost his footing, having
only mud to stand upon. It seemed to me that he was going to be drowned,
and I offered him the handle of my spud to help him; but he stopped
where he was, and was not going to be hurried.