It was afternoon, and hot sunshine poured down into the little valley. Andrew stood at the foot of a low range, looking about with keen interest. The strip of level ground between rock and river was strewn with small fir stumps¹, among which lay half-burned logs and branches. On the edge of the clearing stood two log shacks² and a smith's shop, with an unsightly heap of empty cans, broken boots and discarded clothing in front of them. A bank of shattered stone stretched toward the stream, and on a scarped slope of the hillside where the rocks shone a warm pink there was a black hole. A stream of water flowing out of it ran down a trench³. This was the Rain Bluff⁴ Mine. Andrew felt disappointed. There was not much to show for the capital that had been subscribed⁶. He supposed, however, that the pieces of machinery⁷ which lay in disorder⁸ about the waterside were expensive, and he meant to ascertain⁹ their cost.