Rod’s confidence was the chief thing that kept up the spirits of the treasure seekers during the next few days, for not the first sign of gold was discovered above the fall.  Yard by yard the prospectors worked up the chasm until they had washed its sands for more than a mile.  And with the passing of each day, as Wabigoon had predicted, the stream became more and more shallow, until they could wade across it without wetting themselves above their knees.  At the close of the fourth day the three lowered themselves over the face of the rock into the second chasm.  So convinced was Rod in his belief that the gold was hidden deep down under the creek bed that he dug a four-foot hole by torch-light and that night after supper washed out several pans of dirt in the glow of the camp-fire.  He still found no signs of gold.

The next day’s exertions left no room for doubt.  Beyond two or three tiny flecks of gold the three adventurers found nothing of value in the deeper sand and gravel of the stream.  That night absolute dejection settled on the camp.  Both Rod and Wabigoon made vain efforts to liven up their drooping spirits.  Only Mukoki, to whom gold carried but a fleeting and elusive value, was himself, and even his hopefulness was dampened by the gloom of his companions.  Rod could see but one explanation of their failure.  Somewhere near the cataract John Ball and the Frenchmen had found a rich pocket of gold, and they had worked it out, probably before the fatal tragedy in the old cabin.

“But how about the mad hunter and his golden bullets?” insisted Wabi, in another effort to brighten their prospects.  “The bullets weighed an ounce each, and I’ll stake my life they came from this chasm.  He knows where the gold is, if we don’t!”

“Come back soon!” grunted Mukoki.  “Watch heem.  Fin’ gol’!”

“That’s what we’ll do!” cried the young Indian, jumping suddenly to his feet and toppling Rod backward off the rock upon which he was sitting.  “Come, cheer up, Rod!  The gold is here, somewhere, and we’re going to find it!  I’m heartily ashamed of you; you, whom I thought would never get discouraged!”

Rod was laughing when he recovered from the playful mauling which Wabi administered before he could regain his feet.

“That’s right, I deserve another licking!  We’ve got all the spring and summer before us, and if we don’t find the gold by the time snow flies we’ll come back and try it again next year!  What do you say?”

“And bring Minnetaki with us!” added Wabi, jumping into the air and kicking his heels together.  “How will you like that, Rod?” He nudged his comrade in the ribs, and in another moment both were puffing and laughing in one of their good-natured wrestling bouts, in which the cat-like agility of the young Indian always won for him in the end.