Then the long descent
began, the long descent to the great plain. Now their faces were
bronzed with a sun ever hotter, ever more powerful. No longer
the snow flakes beat their cheeks. They came slowly down into a
land which seemed to Tavernake like the biblical land of Canaan.
Three times in ten days they had to halt and make a camp, while
Tavernake prepared a geographical survey of likely-looking land.
McCleod came up to Tavernake one day with a dull-looking lump in
his hand, glistening in places.
"Copper," he announced, shortly. "It's what I've been looking
for all the time. No end to it. There's something bigger than
oil here."
They spent a month in the locality, and every day McCleod became
more enthusiastic. After that it was hard work to keep him from
heading homeward at once.
"I tell you, sir," he explained to Tavernake, "there's millions
there, millions between those four stakes of yours. What's the
good of more prospecting? There's enough there in a square acre
to pay the expenses of our expedition a thousand times over.
Let's get back and make reports. We can strike the railway in
ten days from here--perhaps sooner."
"You go," Tavernake said. "Leave me Pete and two of the horses."
The man stared at him in surprise.
"What's the good of going on alone?" he asked. "You're not a
mining expert or an oil man. You can't go prospecting by
yourself."
"I can't help it," Tavernake answered. "It's something in my
blood, I suppose.
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