Along this they made their way, with the same noiseless celerity, no one uttering a word, till all four stood around the entrance of the gold mine. Here they compared “notes,” and it was found that not one had detected any thing suspicious; every thing appeared auspicious. Neither Black Tom nor old Stebbins had seen the interior of the cave, and they were naturally anxious to explore it. Hammond, therefore, volunteered to act as sentinel, while the three labored; but, before doing so, all four went in, and without striking a light, scattered and carefully reconnoitered the cavern to make sure that no enemies were within. Everything proving satisfactory, Hammond returned to his station, and the fire was started. Teddy knew where to locate it, and when the flame flared up, the eyes of the hunters sparkled. “B’ars and bufflers!” exclaimed Black Tom, in a frightened undertone, as he looked wildly about him, “don’t it beat every thing?” “It does that,” assented old Stebbins, whose excitement was scarcely less; “ef we can tote that home, thar’ll be an end to our trappin’.” Teddy threw on the fuel, and the illumination was found amply sufficient. The yellow nuggets were shining all about them, and all that they had to do was to gather them. There was something grotesque and weird in the scene. The vast, corridor-like cave, lit up by the burning wood--the shining glitter of the jagged wall--the three figures with their swarthy faces lit up, not by the fire alone, but by the eager passion that was stirring each heart to its utmost depths--all this made up a picture, impressive, unnatural, and almost appalling. A spell seemed to rest upon the men for a few minutes. They were so overcome by this palpable evidence of the immense wealth lying within their reach, that they were forced to wait for the reaction. Stepping forward, old Stebbins swung his pick over his head, and buried its point several inches in the compact earth. Then, as he forced the handle back, several nuggets dropped to the ground. “Pick ’em up,” he called out, in a husky voice, “and I’ll keep yer busy.” Teddy and Black Tom gathered up the chunks, and deposited them in the huge sack, made of bear-skin, that had been brought for that purpose, while the old hunter plied the pick with a vigor that amounted to fury. Only now and then did they speak, for they were swayed by strange emotions. Old Stebbins seemed literally tireless. Thump, thump, went his implement, like the throbbing of an engine. Now and then the fire was struck from the hardened point, and once it glanced with such violence as to fly from his hand, and go spinning, end over end, several yards away. He walked to where it had fallen, and picking it up, without a word, returned to his labor, and drove it in again, the chunks and nuggets falling with such continuity that the others had little time for rest.