The scene in the midst of which they now found themselves was curious, interesting, and suggestive. For two miles along its course the banks of the river were studded with tents, and on each side of it were diggers, working at short distances apart, or congregated together, according to the richness of the deposits. About twenty feet was the space generally allowed at that time to a washing machine. Most of the diggers worked close to the banks of the stream, others partially diverted its course to get at its bed, which was considered the richest soil. At one place a company of eighty men had banded together for the purpose of cutting a fresh channel for the river--a proceeding which afterwards resulted in a fierce and fatal affray with the men who worked below them. Elsewhere on the sides of the mountains and in "gulches" formed by torrents, men toiled singly and in twos or threes, with picks, shovels, washing-pans, and cradles. All were very busy, but all were not equally hopeful, for, while some had been successful in finding the precious metal, others had failed, and were very desponding. "Have you had good fortune to-day?" asked Frank, stopping at the edge of the hole in which the miner with the red shirt toiled. "Not very good," replied the man, whose voice betokened him an Englishman. He was an immensely powerful, good-looking fellow, and paused in his work to reply to Frank's question with a hearty air. "Have you to dig very deep?" inquired Frank. "Not very," he replied; "the depth varies in different parts of the diggings. Here it is seldom necessary to go deeper than four feet. Indeed, a white rock usually lays about the depth of two feet under the soil. It is difficult to cut through, and does not pay for the trouble." "Do you find gold on the surface?" continued Frank. "Almost none. Being weighty, it sinks downwards through the loose earth, and settles on the rock. I see, gentlemen, that you are strangers, and, if I mistake not, Englishmen. I am a countryman, hailing from Cornwall, and, if you have no objection, will accompany you in your inspection of the diggings. My experience may be of service to you, perhaps, and I can at all events guard you from the scoundrels who make a livelihood by deceiving and cheating newcomers." Frank thanked the Cornish miner for his kind offer, and accompanied by this new and intelligent friend, he and Joe continued their ramble. One of the first men whom they addressed happened to be one of the sharpers referred to. He was a Yankee, and although the Yankees were by no means the _only_ scoundrels there, for there was no lack of such-- English, Scotch, Irish, German, and Chinese--they were unquestionably the "'cutest!" This man was very busy when they approached, and appeared to be quite indifferent to them. Observing, however, that they were about to pass by, he looked up, and, wiping his brow, said, "Good-evening." "Good-evening," said Frank, "What luck?"