Jackson.
"Well, we'll need t' be," went on the miner. "Th' valley is full of
caves of ice, an' it's dangerous for th' ordinary traveler. In fact
an airship was the only way I saw out of th' difficulty when I was
there."
"Then you have been to the valley of gold?" asked Tom.
"Well, not exactly TO it," was the reply, "but I was where I could
see it. That was in th' summer, though of course the summer there
isn't like here. I'll tell you how it was."
The miner settled himself more comfortably in his chair, and resumed
his story.
"It was two year ago," he said, "that me an' Jim Mace started to
prospect in Alaska. We didn't have much luck, an' we kept on workin'
our way farther north until we come to these Snow Mountains. Then
our supplies gave out, an' if it hadn't been for some friendly
Eskimos I don't know what we would have done. Jim and me we gave 'em
some trinkets an' sich, and th' Indians began talkin' of a wonderful
valley of gold, where th' stuff lay around in chunks on top of the
ground."
"Me and Jim pricked up our ears at that, so to speak, an' we wanted
to see th' place. After some delay we was taken to th' top of a big
crag, some distance away from where we had been stopping with the
friendly Eskimos, or Indians, as I call 'em. There, away down below,
was a valley--an' a curious sort of a valley it were.
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