When next morning arrived, Joe Graddy, true to his word, appeared with the first—if not of the “flood-tide,” at least of the morning sun, and Frank told him that, on the previous evening, he had made arrangements to go to the diggings in company with a party that was to start the following day; that he had already made purchases of the few things which they would require on the journey, and that the only thing remaining to be done was to pack up.

“Now, Joe, you must go at once to the principal guide and make arrangements with him as to that brandy and tea on which you expect to found your future fortunes. I told him to expect a visit from you early in the day.”

“Wotiver you do, do it at once,” said Joe, putting on his straw hat with an energetic slap. “That’s one of my mottos. I’ll go an’ carry it into practice.”

The following day saw Frank and his man set forth with a party of about thirty men, all of whom were clad in blue or red flannel shirts, straw hats, big boots, and other rough garments; with rifles on their shoulders, and bowie-knives and pistols in their belts. These were men of various nations; Californians, Chinamen, Malays, Americans, Scotch, and English, and many of them looked not only rough but savage. In truth, they were as diverse in their characters as in their appearance, some of them being men who had evidently moved in good society, while others were as evidently of the lowest—probably the convict—class. They had all, however, been thrown together by the force of a common interest. All were bound for the gold-mines, and it was necessary that they should travel in company for mutual protection and assistance.

There were two guides, who had charge of ten pack-mules loaded with provisions for the storekeepers at some remote diggings. These guides were stern, powerful, bronzed fellows, who had to make their way among rough men in difficult circumstances, and they seemed to be quite prepared to do so, being fearless, resolute, and armed to the teeth.

Joe Graddy had obtained permission, on promise of payment, to place his little fortune on the backs of the mules, so that he and Frank had nothing to carry save their weapons and blankets, besides a tin cup each at their girdles, and a water-bag.

“Come, I like this sort of thing,” said one of the party, an Englishman, when the order was given to start. “If it is all like this it will be uncommonly jolly.”

“I guess it ain’t all like this, stranger,” said one of the Americans with a good-humoured grin.

One of the guides laughed, and the other ejaculated “humph!” as they set forward.

There was indeed some ground for the remark of the Englishman, for the country through which they passed was most beautiful, and the weather delicious. Their track lay over an undulating region of park-like land covered with short grass; clumps of bushes were scattered here and there about the plain, and high above these towered some magnificent specimens of the oak, sycamore, and Californian cypress, while in the extreme distance rose the ranges of the “golden” mountains—the Sierra Nevada—in the midst of which lay the treasures of which they were in search.

All the members of the party were on foot, and, being fresh, full of hope, and eager to reach their destination. They chatted gaily as they marched over the prairie.

On the way the good-humoured American seemed to take a fancy to Frank, with whom he had a great deal of animated conversation. After asking our hero every possible question in regard to himself and intentions, he told him that he was Yankee,—a piece of superfluous information, by the way;—that his name was Jeffson, that he was a store-keeper at one of the farthest off diggings, that the chief part of the loading of one of the mules belonged to him, and that he was driving a considerable business in gold-dust without the trouble of digging for it.

Towards evening they came to a very small hole in the plain, which was dignified with the name of a well. Here they stopped to replenish their water-casks.

“Take as much as you can carry, men,” said the principal guide, “we’ve a long march to the next well, over sandy ground, and sometimes there ain’t much water in it.”

They all followed this advice with the exception of one man, a coarse savage-looking fellow, with a huge black beard and matted locks, who called himself Bradling, though there was ground for doubting whether that was the name by which he had been at first known in the world. This man pulled out an enormous brandy-flask, and with a scoffing laugh said:—

“This is the water for me, mister guide, pure and unmixed, there’s nothin’ like it.”

He nodded as he spoke, and put the flask to his lips, while the guide, who made no rejoinder, eyed him with a grave, stern expression of countenance.

That night they all encamped under the shade of a small clump of trees, kindled several large fires, and, heartily glad to be relieved of their back-burdens, sat down to enjoy supper. After it was over pipes were smoked and stories told, until it was time to retire to rest. Then each man lay down under his blanket, the sky being his canopy, and the howling of the wolves his lullaby.

It seemed to each sleeper, when awakened next morning, that he had only just closed his eyes, so sound had been his repose, and there was a great deal of violent yawning, stretching, grumbling, and winking before the whole party was finally aroused and ready to set forth. However, they got under way at last, and early in the forenoon came to the edge of a sandy plain, which appeared to be interminable, with scarcely a blade of grass on it. Here they halted for a few minutes.

“How wide is the plain, guide?” inquired Frank.

“Forty miles,” replied the man, “and there’s not a drop of water to be had till the end of the first twenty. We’ll get there about sundown, and replenish our kegs, if it’s not all gone dry. Let me warn you, however, to use the water you have sparingly.”

“Do we encamp at the end o’ the first twenty?” asked Jeffson.

“Yes, you’ll find it a long enough day’s march.”

No one made any reply, but by their looks they appeared to think nothing of a twenty-mile walk. They found, however, that such a distance, traversed over loose sand ankle-deep, and under a burning sun, was not what any of them had been accustomed to.

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