The rest had done Darling good and he spent the whole day in wandering around the river bank, picking up odds and ends to eat. He was perfectly willing to carry the load they put on him the next morning, and by ten o'clock they bid farewell to their old camping spot and struck out for the new diggings Maybe Dixon had mentioned. The way was far from an easy one, and they had their own troubles in getting into the gulch, which had suddenly become the scene of great activity. Miners were pouring in from everywhere, and tents were springing up "like mushrooms," as Bob expressed it. "We'll have to see if we can't get a tent," said Mark, and for that purpose visited a spot where a jolly German was selling all manner of supplies which he had brought to the place from San Francisco on the backs of eight horses. "Yah! I can sell you von dent," said the German. "I got dree left," and he brought them out. Two were new and the third had seen slight service. They thought this latter might answer their purpose, and asked the man what he wanted for it. "I sold you dot dent for four ounces," said the German. "Four ounces!" cried Mark. "Why, that's about sixty-four dollars!" gasped Si. "The tent didn't cost more than ten or twelve!" "_Yah_, but he cost a lot to git him here," said the man who sold supplies. "You won't take less?" asked Bob. "_Nein_, I cannot do dot." "I reckon it's a case of take it or leave it," said Maybe Dixon. "We had better take him up, for I don't see any other chance to get canvas." "All right, but it breaks my heart to give up four ounces of gold for it," groaned Si. They took the tent, and then purchased some other supplies which they desired. That night they stretched the canvas over some bushes and slept under it. The next day they cut poles and pitched the tent in proper shape, cutting a trench around it, so that the rain might run off and keep the ground inside dry. They covered the flooring with bark, and made several couches of pine boughs. The next week found them working hard in two claims they had staked out. Not much gold in the dust was found, but quite some of the precious metal in grains which occasionally reached to the size of nuggets. "Nuggets are what I want," cried Bob. "A good big nugget beats dust all to pieces!" "Dust is all right, if you can only git enough of it," answered Maybe Dixon. At the end of the second week at Three Cross Gulch they calculated that they had brought in over three hundred dollars' worth of dust and small nuggets. The largest of the nuggets was found by Si and was thought to be worth fifty to sixty dollars. It made the former farm lad dance a jig for joy. "I've got to send news of that to hum," he said. "Gosh, but this beats farmin' all to bits, don't it?" "Like to get a market basket full of 'em, eh, Si?" said Mark, dryly. "Wouldn't you?" "You bet!" laughed Mark, dropping into the common expression of the day.