care whether the region they propose to search has been
scientifically tested and thought to contain gold. They adhere to the
miner's adage, "Gold is where you find it"; and they seem to have some
occult power of divination for they have uncovered fabulous fortunes in
regions which, like Cripple Creek, had been declared "barren of gold."
Yet, as the old settlers say, "Prospectors never get anything out of
their finds." Having struck it rich, they take to the trail again, to
search endlessly, to probe ceaselessly, with patient faith, the
inscrutable hills.

In addition to their seemingly occult power of divining the location of
earth's hidden treasure, these rugged old men of the mountains possess
a mysterious means of learning news of gold strikes. Let a bonanza
strike be made and every prospector in the region will be on his way to
the new camp within a few hours.

"How did you know that gold had been struck at Caribou?" I asked an old
man whom I met on the trail, driving his pack burro ahead of him,
hurrying considerably for a prospector.

He looked at me, scratched his head, spanked the burro and started on.
No doubt regretting his discourteous silence, he turned, "I knowed they
was agoin' to," he told me.

Nearly every prospector has a little pack burro, that seems to absorb
all the patient philosophy of its master. To his shaggy burden-bearer,
he gives his last flapjack, tells his golden dreams, confides the
location of rich veins of ore, and turns for comfort when the false
lead plays out. The knowing animal provides that rarest of
companionship, a sympathetic, silent, attentive listener.

Most of the prospectors I have met on the trails were old men, working
alone, but two do sometimes cast their lot together, and become
partners.

The story I heard told once around a campfire, of two old prospectors
who were always quarreling, is characteristic. Many times they
separated, each to go his own way; sometimes they merely set up
separate camps a few yards apart, refusing to speak or to take any
notice of each other. Thus they bickered, fought and made up, close to
forty years. They staked claims wherever they discovered promising
outcrop. They were familiar with a hundred miles of ragged mountain
ranges.

After all those years, old and failing, they fell out over some trivial
thing and separated for good. One traveled north, the other south.
Both struck fine mineral that promised to make their drea