Chapter 7: All That Glitters

What the hell? Are you spying on my ... spying?

I was just doing a perimeter check to see how the cameras and mikes were working. She replied. Looks good. Real good.

I laughed. As if you haven’t already dug up their entire lives...

A very feminine cartoon eye appeared on my screen and winked at me.

The following morning Travis alerted me to another visitor with a single cheerful bark from outside. I stepped out and found Gil slowly walking across the clearing, looking around at all my stuff scattered about. The snow had melted overnight but the air was still brisk. My truck and Yanmar shared a double-wide steel-built carport. Behind that was my big NG tank. Beside it was the space I had cleared for my next ISO container that was still under construction and would serve as my shop. On the other side of my steel dwelling (to the left facing it) was my water tank resting on 6-foot risers. Beyond that, the clearing continued until it tapered off above the creek.

Travis eagerly greeted the hermit and did circles around him as he hobbled over. I stepped out to the porch with my coffee and greeted him.

“Howdy Gil. What brings you by these parts?” I asked.

He hesitated at my porch. “Ah jes wanted ta let ya know ah’ll be headin’ over yonder fer the winner.”

I chewed my lip and then gestured to my door. “Why don’t you come in and have some breakfast and a coffee? I was hoping to talk to you about that.”

I could feel his uncertainty as he slowly doffed his heavy backpack and stepped forward. I held the door for him and invited him to hang up his coat and hat. This made him even more uncomfortable but he did so and joined me in the kitchen area where I was just starting some frozen hashbrowns and sausage. I retrieved more of each from the freezer and continued preparing the meal. I poured him a cup of coffee and placed it on the table before him.

“You planning on living in that old pump house again?” I asked.

“Yeah, I reckin,” he sipped his coffee and savored it, “as gooda place as any, ah spose.”

“How much are you gonna pay him to stay there?”

“Oh, I was gonna give him these three bottles of dust I collected this summer,” he hesitated, “and maybe have em take this nugget inta town to get appraised for me.”

I turned back to him curiously. “Would you mind showing it to me?” I could tell his discomfort was not so much with me personally as it was with his surroundings.

With a grunt, he set down his coffee and went back to the entryway to rummage inside his bag. When he returned, he set three round glass vials on the table and a solid gold nugget that made me choke on my coffee. Imagine a walnut with a whole peanut glued to it and you have an idea of how big it was. I whistled aloud and asked his permission to handle it. It was damn heavy! “How much does it weigh?” I asked.

“Ah dunno,” he admitted, “Figured the appraiser’d know that.”

Setting the nugget back on the table I went back to my office to retrieve a flat postal scale I had sitting on a shelf. “May I?” I asked. At his nod, I zeroed the scale and set the rock on it. The digital screen read 34.5 oz. Over 2 pounds! ‘Holy shit!’ I weighed each of the vials at just under 2 ounces each.

“Gil,” I stammered, “you have almost 40 ounces of gold here!” I smelled the hashbrowns burning so I jumped up to turn them and the sausages.

“I suppose it is,” he replied nonchalantly as I went to the fridge for eggs.

“Gil. That landowner is ripping you off!” I said flatly. “If he is taking almost 6 ounces of gold dust from you just to stay in a cold pump house for the winter...”

“He gives me food too.” the hermit interjected. His belly began rumbling as the smell of sausage and scrambled eggs filled the room.

I took a moment to serve up a generous plate of food and set it before him with silverware before refilling his coffee. Then I served myself, tossed Travis a sausage link, and sat down with my guest. We ate quietly for a moment and then I spoke: “When I bought this canyon, I made sure to include the water and mineral rights.”

I knew it was a mistake as soon as the words left my mouth. He swallowed nervously and looked down at his plate.

I put my hand up to put him at ease. “It’s not like that Gil,” I assured him cautiously, “I ain’t interested in your claim or anything you take from it,” I emphasized my point by pushing the vials over to him. He looked up at me like a guilty kid caught shoplifting. “I’m serious. I want you to stay and keep working on it.” I added. “Hell, I was even gonna ask if you’d ever considered setting up a sluice run.”

Slowly the discomfort drained from his features and he nodded thoughtfully. “Ah thought on it a bit,” he drawled in between bites, ‘ah’d have ta get materials though.”

I nodded. “Trust me, buddy. You have enough money here to get everything you need and more.” I gestured to the vials. “I’m not an expert but gold is sitting at around $1,000 to 1,200 an ounce which means those three vials alone are worth enough to build your own cabin down there and stay year-round if you wanted.”

“And this,” I held up the nugget, “for this, you could probably enjoy a winter-long cruise around the world and still have enough left over to live on.”

It took him no time to clear his plate and finish his second coffee. He considered his words as I poured him another cup. “I gotta say ... it ain’t so much all the money and hoopla for me,” he started, “I truly just love finding it.” With that admission, I gained a key insight into this mysterious character.

I nodded thoughtfully. “So, you would prefer to stay down there year-round and work that creek?”

He shrugged. “Well, ah suppose so.”

I stood. “Come,” I refilled my cup, “let’s go out so I can show you around the place.”

With coats on and cups in hand, I walked with him about the clearing and along the base of the cliff. I confided in him my plans for my own mining operation, which involved yet a third ISO container (unmodified) that I planned to position parallel to the other two but closer to the creek end. I planned on butting it directly against the cliff face to conceal my tunneling operation.

“Wha cha gonna do with all that spoil?” he inquired referring to the soil, gravel, and rubble removed from the hole. I liked his question.

“I’m going to sift it down and run it through a sluice of my own. Then it’s going to backfill the levy around the dam I’m going to put right ... there,” I pointed down the slope at the end of the clearing, towards the creek, “where I’ll be putting in a hydroelectric plant to make all my electricity.”

I could tell I had garnered his interest somewhat because he became more at ease talking with me. He even snuck a pat or two to Travis’ big head. As we headed back, I started redirecting the conversation to his immediate concerns.

“How long do you think you have before the ravine gets too unlivable for you?”

He shrugged. “Dunno, ah figure two, maybe three weeks at the most.”

“What if I could have you living in a little cabin of your own right back there on the east end of this clearing, in less than two weeks?” I asked. He paused and stared at me wide-eyed for a minute. “You could stay there all winter and next summer we could work on building you a more permanent cabin down in that gully where nobody could bother you.”

I could tell he was struggling to come to terms with it all. “I just ... um. I don’t know what to say about all this,” he said finally. We had reached the dwelling and I led him back inside.

“Well, you got some time to think about it,” I remarked as I returned to the kitchen and started another pot of coffee. “As for your gold,” I gestured at the table, “I really hate the thought of you getting hornswoggled by greedy men.”