Perhaps it was only natural that I should become the hero of the miners when the camp was at last reached and the men learned the strange story of our recovery of the gold. Nux and Bry also came in for a good share of praise, which they well deserved, and it seemed as if the adventure had established a permanent good feeling between the gold seekers and our crew of the “Flipper.” There was no more suspicion on either side, and when the Major made a new division of the recovered gold he generously insisted that I should receive even more than I had been robbed of, for my share. Whatever the Major’s faults might be, he was certainly liberal in his dealings with others, and Uncle Naboth was greatly pleased with the profitable result of an adventure that had at first threatened to ruin the fortunes of the firm of Perkins & Steele. No one mourned very much over the death of the men who had stolen the gold; on the contrary, there was a feeling of general relief that the four desperadoes were unable to cause any more trouble. Therefore the camp resumed its former routine, and the miners set to work with renewed vigor to wash out the golden grains from the rich sands of the inlet. It was about this time that the grave and reserved Captain Gay proved himself to be a genius, and by an act of real cleverness that crowned his name with glory materially shortened the stay of our entire community on the island. The Captain had worked side by side with the common sailors, for the Major showed no favoritism, and insisted that every able-bodied man should perform his share of the work. Even Uncle Naboth had from the first day of our capture toiled from morning till night; but he accepted his tasks with rare good nature, and frequently confided to me, in his droll way, that his enforced labor had added ten years to his life. “I was gettin’ altogether too chunked and fat,” he said one evening, “and likely enough I’d ’a’ been troubled sooner or later with apoplexy or dropsical. But now I’ve lost twenty or thirty pounds weight, an’ feel as lively as a cricket in a hornet’s nest. Work’s a good thing, Sam. I’m glad the Major made me do it. Probably he’s saved my life by his cussedness.” Captain Gay had been working at the upper end of the inlet near to the place where a slender mountain stream fell from a precipice above and mingled its fresh water with that of the inlet. This stream fell upon a rocky bottom, but in course of years it had worn a bowl-shaped hollow in the rock, which could be distinctly observed through the transparent water. “There ought to be a lot of gold in that hollow,” Ned Britton had remarked to the Captain one day. “I’ve an idea all the gold we find in the sands of the inlet has been brought here by the mountain streams.” “I’ve been thinking that, myself,” answered the Captain; but it was a week later that he climbed the rock and followed the bent of the stream for nearly a mile, marking carefully the lay of the land.