"Yes, señor, it is the red gold of El Alisal, and it is to you," but her eyes were watching him hungrily as she spoke. And something of that pathetic fear penetrated his amazed mind, and he remembered.
"No, Tula, only my share to me. I do the work, but the great share is to you, that it may buy back your mother from the slavers of the south."
"Also my sister," said the girl, and for the first time she wept.
"Come, come! This is the time for joy. The danger is gone, and we are at rest beside this--why, it's a dream come true, the golden dream! Come, help me cook that we may be strong for the work."
She helped silently, fetching water and more sticks for the fire.
There were many things to ask, but he asked no questions, only gazed between bites and sups at the amazing facts facing him.
"I've seen ores and ores in my time, but nothing like this!" he exulted. "Why, I can 'high grade' mule loads of this and take it out without smelting," and then he grinned at his little partner. "We just struck it in time,--meat is mighty near done."
"Plenty meat!" she said nodding her head wisely. "Burro, big burro, wild burro! I see track."
"Wild burro? Sure, that makes it simple till we rest up. You are one great little commissary sergeant."
He noted that the pitch of the roof towards the face of the mountain carried the smoke in a sort of funnel to be sifted through high unseen crannies of shattered rock above. All was dark in the end of the gallery, but a perceptible draught from the portal bore the smoke upward.
"It's too good to be true," he decided, looking it over. "I'm chewing bacon and it tastes natural, but I'm betting with myself that this is a dream, and I'll wake up in the dope pond with my mouth full of sulphur water."
The girl watched him gravely, and ate sparingly, though parched corn had been her only sustenance through the trail of the dreadful night. Her poor sandals were almost cut from her feet, and even while jesting at the unreality of it all, Kit was making mental note of her needs--the wild burro would at least provide green hide sandals for her until better could be found, and she had earned the best.
He was amazed at her keenness. She did not seem to think, but instinctively to feel her way to required knowledge, caring for herself in the desert as a fledgling bird tossed by some storm from the home nest. He remembered there were wild burros in the Sonora hills, but that she should have already located one on this most barren of mountains was but another unbelievable touch to the trail of enchantment, and after a century of lost lives and treasure in the search for the Indian mine, to think that this Indian stray, picked up on a desolate trail, should have been the one to know that secret and lead him to it!