African dragged him out of sight over the brow of the bank, where
he rapidly tied him hand and foot, stuffing a gag into his mouth.
At the same moment two other figures rounded the bend below and
approached. They were mounted and leading a third saddle-horse, as
well as other pack-animals. Reaching the workings, they
dismounted. Then began a strange procedure, for one man clambered
upon the sluices and, with a pick, ripped out the riffles. This
was a matter of only a few seconds; then, seizing a shovel, he
transferred the concentrates which lay in the bottom of the boxes
into canvas sacks which his companion held. As each bag was
filled, it was tied and dumped into the cut. They treated but four
boxes in this way, leaving the lower two-thirds of the flume
untouched, for Anvil Creek gold is coarse and the heart of the
clean-up lies where it is thrown in. Gathering the sacks together,
they lashed them upon the pack-animals, then mounted the second
string of sluices and began as before. Throughout it all they
worked with feverish haste and in unbroken silence, every moment
flashing quick glances at the figure of the lookout who stood on
the crest above, half dimmed in the shadow of a willow clump.
Judging by their rapidity and sureness, they were expert miners.

From the tent came the voices of the night shift at table, and the
faint rattle of dishes, while the canvas walls glowed from the
lights within like great fire-flies hidden in the grass. The
foreman, finishing his meal, appeared at the door of the mess
tent, and, pausing to accustom his eyes to the gloom, peered
perfunctorily towards the creek. The watchman detached himself
from the shadow, moving out into plain sight, and the boss turned
back. The two men below were now working on the sluices which lay
close under the bank and were thus hidden from the tent.