THE POCKET HUNTER 



There was more color to his reminiscences 

 than the faded sandy old miners "kyo.te- 

 ing," that is, tunneling like a coyote (kyote 

 in the vernacular) in the core of a lonesome 

 hill. Suefra-ewe has found, perhaps, a body 

 of tolerable ore in a poor lead, — remember 

 that I can never be depended on to get the 

 terms right, — and followed it into the heart 

 of country rock to no profit, hoping, bur- 

 rowing, and hoping. These men go harm- 

 lessly mad in time, believing themselves 

 just behind the wall of fortune — most lik- 

 able and simple men, for whom it is well 

 to do any kindly thing that occurs to you 

 except lend them money. I have known 

 " grub stakers " too, those persuasive sin- 

 ners to whom you make allowances of flour 

 and pork and coffee in consideration of the 

 ledges they are about to find ; but none of 

 these proved so much worth while as the 

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