"We go on with this sinking?" he inquired; and there was a boyish pride in the use of the plural.
Peter nodded. His eyes were watching the fire, to see that it played no trick on him.
"Yep, laddie," he said, in his kindly way. "We've got a bully prospect here. We'll see it through after we've had breakfast. Sleepy?"
Elia returned him an unsmiling negative. Smiling was apparently unnatural to him. The lack of it and the lack of expression in his eyes, except when stirred by terror, showed something of the warp of his mind.
"You aren't damp, or--or anything? There's a heap of dew around." The man was throwing strips of "sow-belly" into the pan, and the coffee water was already set upon the flaming wood.
"You needn't to worry 'bout them things for me, Peter," Elia declared peevishly. "Wimmin folks are like that, an' it sure makes me sick."
The other laughed good-naturedly as he took a couple of handfuls of the "hardtack" out of a sack.
"You'd be a man only they won't let you, eh? You've the grit, laddie, there's no denying."
The boy felt pleased. Peter understood him. He liked Peter, only sometimes he wished the man wasn't so big and strong. Why wasn't he hump-backed with a bent neck and a "game" leg? Why wasn't he afraid of things? Then he never remembered seeing Peter hurt anything, and he loved to hurt. He felt as if he'd like to thrust a burning brand on Peter's hand while he was cooking, and see if he was afraid of the hurt, the same as he would be. Then his mind came back to things of the moment. This gold prospecting interested him more than anything else.
"How far are we from Barnriff?" he asked abruptly.
"I was kind o' wonderin'. Seems we've been headin' clear thro' fer Barnriff since we started from way back there on the head waters. We sunk nine holes, hain't we? Say, if we keep right on we'll hit Barnriff on this line?"
"Sure." The man's blue eyes were watching the boy's face interestedly.
"You found the color o' gold, an' the ledge o' quartz in each o' them holes, ain't you?"
"Well, if we keep on, an' we find right along, we're goin' to find some around Barnriff."
"Good, laddie," Peter replied, approving his obvious reasoning. "I'm working on those old Indian yarns, and, according to them, Barnriff must be set right on a mighty rich gold mine."