The Goldsmith and the Stone Pg. 7
The old familiar smell of earth, mixed with wet rock brought back memories to the Goldsmith of his Grandfather’s mines. He felt the same feeling of fleeting panic, as the dark pathway encompassed the two strangers; he drew a deep breath. He never did like these musty, dark holes that could cave in on you at any given moment. “Such faith we have for something better” he thought to himself. The mine worker stubbed his shoe on a loose rock, that had recently fallen. The path was poorly lite by an old kerosene lantern meant to be refilled every day. The miner moved on into the dark to find the next source of light. They came across two paths, only one lite which made the way obvious. “How many of you are working this site?” The Goldsmith spoke up to break the awkward silence. “Ahw, I’d say twenty now, on and off, we’ve been workin here for generations. We found gold and lots of it, but it seems it’s all dried up now”.
“Where is the owner of the mine?” The Goldsmith asked as he saw the shabby working conditions. “Oh, far away, rarely comes down here. Bought the mine from the locals who started the whole claim. When the last family member who owned the mine died, it was up for sale. Suppose he feels it’s not worth the risk to put his money into.”
Goldsmith thought of his Grandfather’s mines. He always made sure to take care of the workers. His heart felt a wrenching sadness for the struggling people of the village.
“Has anyone recently tested any of the bars in the river bed?” The Goldsmith asked curiously.
“Can’t say as anyone ever has, the gold was found by accident, two kids playin in the mountains one day, found the nuggets there, and that was that!”
Goldsmith started to get excited with his new ideas in place. Being that the town was remote, and the people lived a simple life, he could see that the resources for prospecting were very limited.
He remembered his Grandfather’s beginnings, how they set up a drag line scraper, converted to a saucer type of bucket having an operation with one cubic yard capacity. They would successfully operate a narrow gut close to the course of the river, and sink a deep shaft to bedrock in the old channel.
“Oh course!” He accidently said out loud, making the miner jump a bit. “I think we can head back now, for some fresh air,” he said with a grin and a new approach in the making.