"Look there!" Casey rose from the ground where he had been sitting with his hands clasped round his drawn-up knees.

He pointed with his pipe to a mountain side twelve miles away but looking five, even in the gloom of early dusk.

"Look at that, will yuh! Whadda yuh say that is, just makin' a guess?
A fire, mebby ?" "Camp fire.

Some prospector boiling coffee in a dirty lard bucket, maybe." Casey snorted.

"It's a darn big fire to boil a pot uh coffee! Recollect, it's twelve miles over to that mountain.