CHAPTER X. WOLF RAVINE.
DURING THE absence of Baldy Bicknell in search of the steam man,
neither Mickey nor Ethan had been disturbed by Indians.
They had worked unceasingly in digging the gold mine to which they had
gained access through the instrumentality of the trapper. When they
had gathered together quite a quantity of the gravel and dirt, with
the yellow sand glittering through it, it was carried a short distance
to the margin of the river, where it underwent the 'washing' process.
While thus engaged, one of them was constantly running up the bank, to
make sure that their old enemies did not steal upon them unawares.
Once or twice they caught sight of several moving in the distance, but
they did not come near enough to molest them, doing nothing more than
to keep them on the qui vive.
There was one Indian, however, who bestrode a black horse, who haunted
them like a phantom. When they glanced over the river, at almost any
time, they could see this individual cautiously circling about on his
horse, and apparently waiting for a chance to get a shot at his
enemies.
'Begorrah, but he loves us, that he does, as the lamb observed when
speaking of the wolf,' said Mickey, just after he had sent a bullet
whistling about their ears.
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