uties of
nature. Again, in entering some little valley or ravine, they would come
suddenly upon a picturesque little company of miners hard at work with
picks and shovels and pans and cradles, searching for the elusive yellow
grains of gold. Indeed, during that first afternoon, they found the
miners everywhere, in the valleys, in the gulches and the ravines, along
the streams, wherever there seemed the least prospect of finding gold,
there these wild knights of the pick and the shovel were sure to be
found; and, as they passed, the latest mining news would be shouted back
and forth, enlivened with rude sallies of wit and merry well-wishes.

Sometimes they would pause for a few minutes to talk with the miners and
to watch them at their work; and, on one of these occasions, Thure and
Bud saw, for the first time, a couple of miners at work with a cradle,
as this queer machine used to separate the gold from the dirt is called.

"I don't wonder it is called a cradle," Thure exclaimed, the moment he
caught sight of the odd-looking contrivance. "Why, if it wasn't for that
hopper on the upper end and the man shoveling dirt and pouring water
into it, one would surely think that fellow was rocking his baby to
sleep in its cradle. Can't we wait here a little while and watch them
work it?" and Thure turned to his father. "The horses need a rest
anyway."

"Going to clean up soon?" Mr. Conroyal called to the men.

"In about ten minutes," answered the shoveler. "And, I reckon, we can
show some gold when we do. Won't you wait and see how it pans out?" he
invited cordially.

"Oh, do, please!" cried both the boys.

"All right," assented Mr. Conroyal. "A rest won't hurt the horses, and I
am sure the clean up will interest you boys."

"Bully! Come on. Let's get closer," and Thure started on the run for the
spot where the two men were working.

The men had placed the cradle within a few feet of where they were
digging up the pay-dirt, and near the cradle they had dug a small
reservoir, which was kept constantly filled with water by means of a
small trench dug from the little mountain stream a dozen rods away, so
that they had both the water and the dirt handy, two very necessary
things to make cradling successful, unless the pay-dirt is very rich.
The machine itself, as Thure said, looked very much like a rudely made,
baby's cradle. The body was about the same size and shape as the
ordinary homemade box cradle seen in the homes of