es, vines, and moss was "simply out of sight," so Earl said,
although as a matter of fact it was very much in sight--that and
nothing else. No one could move forward more than a yard before having
to stop to loosen himself, either from the bushes and vines or the
clinging moss, and muck under the moss. And to add to their discomfort
they stirred up a legion of mosquitoes, gnats, and black flies, which
hovered over their heads like a cloud.

"Let us burn the brush first of all," said the doctor, when at last the
middle of the gulch was reached. "That will clear the surface and
scatter those pests overhead. Oh, my!" He broke off short as he went
down into a concealed water hole which was several feet deep. "Here's
another of the pleasures of hunting gold in Alaska!" and this was said
so comically that everybody roared.

Axes and knives had been brought along, and soon a large pile of the
brush had been cut and piled in a heap and set on fire. As it was green,
it burnt slowly and raised a large smoke, which made the mosquitoes
scatter immediately. From that day until the end of the summer they kept
a smudge fire for protection. The brush cleared from the sides of the
gulch, which was very narrow, they went at the tundra, throwing the moss
wherever it would be out of the way. This took a long time, and it was
not until almost nightfall that they got down to the sand and gravel of
the choked-up watercourse.

"Now we'll see if there is anything in this gulch or not," said the
captain, as he scooped up the first panful off the bedrock. "If there
isn't, then we've had most all-fired hard work fer nuthin', eh?" And he
started in to wash up the sand, gravel, and dirt, while the others
looked on in breathless interest.

CHAPTER XXIII.

GOOD LUCK AND BAD.

As the captain wanted to save every grain of gold in the pan, he washed
very carefully, and it was fully five minutes before the last of the
sand and dirt was disposed of and they could come to a calculation as to
the value of the yellow metal left.

For gold there was, true enough, shining brightly before their eyes--and
there was more than this, too, for some of it was of a blackish color.
The others could not believe in the value of this until Foster Portney
assured them that he had frequently heard of black gold being turned up
in the Yukon district.

"Half an ounce at least," was the verdict arrived at by both the captain
and Mr. Portney; "and that's eight