American
gold-finders call it."

"Is there another pan, Melchior?" said Saxe; "I want to try too."

"No, herr, there is only one."

"You wait, and let's see what I find, my lad. I expect it will be
nothing. There's a nice fragment of onyx," he continued, picking out
and pitching up a piece of flinty-looking rock to the lad. "I dare say
there are some good agates here too, if we searched for them."

Dale spent about a quarter of an hour getting rid of every scrap of the
granite; then held the pan in the bright sunshine, so that the water
drained off and the rays shone full upon the bottom of the vessel.

He turned it about at different angles, shook the fine sand, and turned
it over with his fingers; but ended by shaking his head.

"No luck, sir?"

"Not a speck. Never mind; I'll try again."

He dug down with the edge of the tin, scooping out a good deal of sand,
so as to get a tinful from as deep down as he could.

"Gold is heavy, and would sink low if it were washed down," he said; and
for the next quarter of an hour he repeated the washing process, while
Melchior smoked, the mule browsed on the succulent herbage, and Saxe
devoted himself to creeping farther along by the stream, and peering
down into the pools in search of trout.

"That old fellow at the chalet said the mule would feed himself, Mr
Dale," said the boy suddenly.

"Yes, he will not be much trouble to us that way," replied Dale, still
plying the pan vigorously; when the mule suddenly reared its head,
cocked its ears forward, and whinnied.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

MELCHIOR GROWS SUSPICIOUS.

"Hallo! another donkey coming," cried Saxe, and he looked up, and then
at Melchior, who had thrust his pipe into his wallet and was peering up
the sides of the valley.

"I don't see one," he said; "but there must be something to take the
thing's attention."

The mule whinnied again.

"It is not another mule or donkey," said Melchior, peering upward.
"They would have answered his challenge. It must be a man."

He began to climb up to get to a position where he could look up and
down the gorge; while Dale, being more interested in the contents of his
pan, went on till he had washed enough, and began now to search for
specks or tiny scales of gold.

"Must have been some one Gros knew," said the guide to himself, as he
still looked about sharply.

"Anything the matter, Melchior?" cried Saxe.

"No, sir, no. I was only trying to make out who was