we went for a brisk trot which took us a few miles beyond the Settlement—for you couldn't call it a town.
Every
now and then my companion would stop to scrutinize the geological
formation of the ground, and from a ridge here and there he dug a bit
of stone which he cracked with the little hammer he carried.
I
became quite interested in this—to me—novel game, but naturally I did
not expect him to find anything that might turn out any good; for these
things only happen in story-books.
However,
to my astonishment and no doubt to his own too, Hyams hit upon
something that made him start, whistle low and look me all over as
though to assure himself that I was worthy of his confidence. But to my
questions he only replied with grunts, between his stooping, searching
and cracking of further specimens.
At
last he stretched himself and said: "It's a bit of all right. The best
luck I've had in a very long while. We'll stake out I guess, you and I."
He
crammed his pockets with several handfuls of crumbled rock from what he
called the "swellest outcrop" he had yet struck. Then he carefully
noted the landmarks, and we jogged it back to Geraldton. In one of the
first buildings we came to was located a branch office of the West
Australian Bank. He went in and I followed. The manager, teller and
clerk, all in one, was as interested and excited as Hyams and I after
he had heard the story. Immediately he provided a couple of pans and
even led us to the water cistern in the yard behind. Having locked the
front door from inside, he joined us and anxiously watched the panning
out.
Hyams
said the result was too good for words. The bank manager, who also knew
a thing or two of the game, bore him out. Hyams said the next step was
into the nearest saloon. Well, as he was an old hand and I a mere
novice, I took his word for it and meekly followed his lead.
Now
the saloon was full of sheep shearers, some of whom knew Hyams of old.
Some others did not and wouldn't have cared if the earth had opened and
swallowed him right there
