The men were as prodigal as all miners are, and denied themselves nothing so long as they had gold to pay for it. So my stock gradually increased in gold and diminished in merchandise, and the men were well fed and comfortable.
But the sands upon which we so carelessly trod were wonderfully rich in the precious metal, and any sort of industry was sure to be repaid enormously by the glittering grains scattered about. It was not dust, you understand, but tiny grains resembling those of granulated sugar. The richest yield was derived from the sands at the bottom of the shallow inlet, and the practice of the miners was to wade a little way into the stream, scoop up a basin off the sandy bottom and wash it until only the specks of sparkling metal remained. As it was difficult to care for this properly, I brought from the ship a quantity of sail-cloth, which I made, during my leisure moments, into stout bags, about the size of salt-sacks, sewing the seams firmly. These bags I sold readily to the miners, who, when they filled one, would usually bury it beneath the sand in their hut, so that it would be safe. I did not do this with my supply, however, but piled my sacks into an empty box in one corner of my grocery store, feeling sure there would be no theft of them in the confines of our little camp. Neither did the Major secrete his hoard, which lay plainly in sight of anyone who entered his hut; and the Major’s store of gold was enormous because he took charge of all that our men washed out, until the time for final division should arrive.
There was no game of any sort, that we knew of, upon the island; but the men caught plenty of fish in the upper part of the inlet and in the bay upon the ocean frontage. The thickets surrounding our camp were considered absolutely impenetrable, on account of the underbrush and creeping vines that formed such a thick network at the foot of the trees. Yet there was a man named Daggett who, it was rumored, had found a way to traverse the forest with comparative ease.
This Daggett was quite a remarkable person, and enters now into my story.
He was a thin, withered little man, about fifty years of age who had been an unsuccessful miner all his life until now. So eager was he, at first, to take advantage of the great opportunities here afforded to secure a fortune, that he would work by moonlight washing gold, while his companions slept and rested from their labors. But soon he conceived an idea that these golden sands were deposited from some point in the mountains of the interior of the island, where solid gold abounded in enormous quantities. So he quit washing, and began a search for the imaginary “mountain of gold,” cutting a secret path through the thicket to the more open interior, and passing day after day in his eager quest. At first he urged some of his comrades to join him, but they only laughed at his idea, being well content to obtain the coveted gold in an easy way, where it lay plainly before their eyes.
