"Jerry Oltion & Kent Patterson - Dutchmans Gold" - читать интересную книгу автора (Oltion Jerry)direction: up. Sarah, bless her, fished two crumbled candy bars from her jacket
pocket, so they each had a handful of chocolate crumbs. By noon, they were intently looking for water and finding none. It could be worse, thought Jan. At least the weather was cool, totally unlike the usual furnace heat of Death Valley. Walking ahead, Sarah and Peter rounded a bend, then shouted, "Water here! A house! Come on, you guys!" Jan and Frieda broke into a run and rounded the comer. The ravine widened into a meadow. At the upper end, by a twisted tree, sunlight glittered off a pool of water. Sarah and Peter knelt by it, drinking noisily. A few feet away, nearly smothered by brush, an old log cabin moldered into the ground. Part of the roof had collapsed, the door was gone, and moss covered the side nearest the pond. Perhaps fifty yards away, three tall trees swayed in the slight breeze. On the horizon, the twin peaks Jan had seen last night loomed over the valley. Jan felt an electric thrill pass down his spine. Full of dread, he knelt beside Peter and looked into the clear pool. The mud at the bottom gleamed with bits of gold. "Fool's gold," Jan said quickly. "Iron pyrites. Pretty, but worthless. Don't pick it up." Peter plunged his hand into the water and came up with a nugget the size of a cherry. "Fool's gold my ass. Feel how heavy it is. Got to be the real thing." He handed the nugget to Jan, who took it reluctantly, as if it might bum his hand. It was astonishingly heavy, and the dull yellow color was right. He dinted one side with a finger nail. The indentation gleamed in the sun. "It's gold, all right," he said at last. "Here's more," said Sarah. "Lots more." Peter threw his head back and howled like a wolf. In seconds, he and Sarah had stripped to their underwear and were splashing about, frisky as young otters. Soon they had a little pile of nuggets. Jan and Frieda watched in stunned silence. "Hey, why so glum, bro?" Peter said as he and Sarah at last wore down enough to rest. "You scared of the Curse of the Lost Breyfogle?" "Well. I think . . . Hell, yes. I feel like I've walked into one of my own lectures. This can't be real." |
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