Frenchmen were very conservative, but admitted that they were doing very well at placer-mining, taking out an average of thirty dollars a day per man.
"Thirty dollars a day!" cried Randy. "A fellow can get rich quick enough at that rate."
"Hardly—with such a short season," answered his uncle. "Yet thirty dollars isn't bad by any means."
"I'm up yere to strike a fortune," put in the captain. "No measly little thirty dollars a day fer me!"
Both Randy and Earl wished to remain behind to see the Frenchmen wash out the gold dust, but the others were impatient to go on, and they were soon on the way once more.
"If the claims are good around here, it won't be long before they are taken up," said Foster Portney. "For, as you can see, men are pouring in over the mountains every day, not to say anything of those who make the long trip by way of the ocean and up the Yukon."
"Well, I'm just crazy to get to work," declared Randy. "Just think of the gold lying around ready to be picked up!"
His uncle smiled. Poor Randy! Little did he dream of the many backaches and privations in store for him.
To the left of the river there now arose a long chain of hills and mountains, sloping gradually to the water's edge; on the right were smaller hills and great marshes, fairly choked with bushes and wild growths of vines
