“Nevertheless,” said Wilcox, “he’s got the look of the devil in his eyes. I’ve seen it enough to know.”
“Wilcox, you trust no man. They all have the devil in them by your reckoning.”
“That’s true enough, but him being a savage and a heathen makes it all the worse.”
“Return to your bed, Wilcox, and do not disturb me further with your suspicions.”
The next day we were on our way by first light. The Lieutenant stopped many times to sight with his compass and make notations on his map. Once a man shouted, “Gold!” Every man in the company dropped his musket and whatever else he was carrying and ran to the man who had shouted. The gold turned out to be a kind of mica that sparkled like fine grains of glass when held up to the sun’s light. The Lieutenant noticed other minerals; pieces of eart
