he entrance to Crooked Arm Gulch must be right
there, according to this map," and he pointed to the wall of rock
against which the great limbs of the tree were pressing.

"Wai, it ain't thar," and Ham turned away disgustedly from the map. "Any
fool with eyes in his head can see that it ain't thar. I reckon we've
come on a wild-goose chase. Let's go intew camp an' git some grub down
us. I'm allfired hungry, an' it's tew late tew look any more tew-day,"
and he glanced toward the west wall of the canyon, up the side of which
the shadows of night were already beginning to creep. "Possibly we can
dew better in th' mornin', though it's more'n I can see how, seem' that
thar's nuthin' but th' face of a solid wall of rock tew search; an'
we've searched 'bout every inch of that that we can a'ready," and he
threw his big frame down on the ground and stared at the wall of rock
wrathfully.

And much of the same disappointment and disgust that troubled Ham was
troubling the hearts of all; for it did not seem possible that there
could be any entrance to any gulch anywhere near the Big Tree. The wall
of rock was too steep to climb, but the eye could search its entire
face, except where the limbs of the giant oak hid a few square yards of
the surface, and nowhere was there a break in the wall nor the least
sign of an opening of any sort, let alone the entrance to a gulch. This
was so plainly evident, so easily and so quickly to be seen, for the
smooth face of the wall of a canyon offers few opportunities of
concealment, that the gloom of bitter disappointment deadened the
spirits of all; and, consequently, it was a very downhearted and
discouraged company of men that now started to make ready for the night
under the overhanging branches of the Big Tree.

All the next day the search was continued, but without any results.

"Durn th' old map! Let's throw it intew th' fire an' git back tew th'
diggin's," Ham declared wrathfully, as they gathered for the night under
the Big Tree. "Stackpole shore must have been loony when he made that
map."

"Reckon you are right," agreed Mr. Conroyal. "Well, we'll have another
look at the map; and, if we can't get any new ideas from it, we will do
as you say and start back for the diggings in the morning."

"No; no! Just one more day! Let us look one more day!" pleaded Thure. "I
can't believe that Stackpole did not find that Cave of Gold. He was so
sure of it, so earnest about it--and there is the nu