moist
gravel and the thud of the dirt as it fell on top of the ground. It is
doubtful if a cannon fired within a rod of them, would have made one of
them jump. Hence it is not to be wondered at that none of them saw the
black clouds gathering about the tops of the mountains to the northeast
and swiftly sweeping down toward them, nor heard the peals of distant
thunder, sounding louder and nearer with the passing of each minute. The
gold-fever was hot in their blood; and they were deaf and blind to all
but the digging man.

Ham's shovel bit swiftly down into the soft, moist sand. Now he is down
to his waist. Now only his shoulders show above the top of the hole.
Suddenly, with a violent grunt, he straightens up.

"Bed-rock!" he yells, and begins digging again.

The excitement is now intense. Nearly every one has a gold-pan in his
hand, and is holding it out toward Ham, ready to receive the first
shovel of pay-dirt. That first shovel of dirt means so much, possibly a
fortune for all! Even the graybeards, Mr. Conroyal and Rad Randolph and
Frank Holt, men who could, who often had faced death without the quiver
of a muscle, are now all of a tremble with excitement. Thure and Bud are
both bending forward so far that there is danger of their tumbling into
the hole on top of Ham.

For a couple of minutes longer Ham shovels out the dirt, but more slowly
and carefully now.

"Give me a pan," and he suddenly straightens up, seizes one of the pans,
and disappears in the hole. A moment later he jumps out of the hole, the
pan nearly filled with dirt in his hands, and races like a mad man with
it to the little stream of water, followed by all the others.

In the excitement of the moment no one notices how dark it is becoming,
nor hears an ominous sound, a distant roar, each second growing louder,
and coming from far up the gulch.

Ham reaches the water, and, plunging the pan down into it, begins
carefully stirring its contents with his big fingers. Around him bend
the others, regardless of wet feet. In a few minutes the larger part of
the sand and the gravel is washed out of the pan by the water. Now only
a thin layer of black sand remains on the bottom of the pan. The crucial
instant has come. Ham slowly straightens up, carefully pours all the
water out of the pan, bends his head down close over it, and begins
moving the thin layer of black sand about with his fingers.

"Is there, is there any gold?" queries Thure, unable long