“Shore won’t thet be fine.  Jane, did you hear?  Black Star an’ Night are livin’ an’ we’ll get to see them.”

But Jane Withersteen only clasped Fay in her arms, and looked at Lassiter with wet and glistening eyes.

Shefford told them to hurry and come to the cliff where the ascent from the valley was to be made.  He thought best to leave them alone to make their preparations and bid farewell to the cavern home they had known for so long.

Then he strolled back along the wall, loitering here to gaze into a cave, and there to study crude red paintings in the nooks.  And sometimes he halted thoughtfully and did not see anything.  At length he rounded a corner of cliff to espy Nas Ta Bega sitting upon the ledge, reposeful and watchful as usual.  Shefford told the Indian they would be climbing out soon, and then he sat down to wait and let his gaze rove over the valley.

He might have sat there a long while, so sad and reflective and wondering was his thought, but it seemed a very short time till Fay came in sight with her free, swift grace, and Lassiter and Jane some distance behind.  Jane carried a small bundle and Lassiter had a sack over his shoulder that appeared no inconsiderable burden.

“Them beans shore is heavy,” he drawled, as he deposited the sack upon the ground.

Shefford curiously took hold of the sack and was amazed to find that a second and hard muscular effort was required to lift it.

“Beans?” he queried.

“Shore,” replied Lassiter.

“That’s the heaviest sack of beans I ever saw.  Why—­it’s not possible it can be. . . .  Lassiter, we’ve a long, rough trail.  We’ve got to pack light—­”

“Wal, I ain’t a-goin’ to leave this here sack behind.  Reckon I’ve been all of twelve years in fillin’ it,” he declared, mildly.

Shefford could only stare at him.

“Fay may need them beans,” went on Lassiter.

“Why?”

“Because they’re gold.”

“Gold!” ejaculated Shefford.

“Shore.  An’ they represent some work.  Twelve years of diggin’ an’ washin’!”

Shefford laughed constrainedly.  “Well, Lassiter, that alters the case considerably.  A sack of gold nuggets or grains, or beans, as you call them, certainly must not be left behind. . . .  Come, now, we’ll tackle this climbing job.”

He called up to the Indian and, grasping the rope, began to walk up the first slant, and then by dint of hand-over-hand effort and climbing with knees and feet he succeeded, with Nas Ta Bega’s help, in making the ledge.  Then he let down the rope to haul up the sack and bundle.  That done, he directed Fay to fasten the noose round her as he had fixed it before.  When she had complied he called to her to hold herself out from the wall while he and Nas Ta Bega hauled her up.

“Hold the rope tight,” replied Fay, “I’ll walk up.”

And to Shefford’s amaze and admiration, she virtually walked up that almost perpendicular wall by slipping her hands along the rope and stepping as she pulled herself up.  There, if never before, he saw the fruit of her years of experience on steep slopes.  Only such experience could have made the feat possible.