It was positioned at a place where the creek tumbled down over a ledge. The water could stream through the box.The men dropped shovel loads of silt in...o the upper third of the box. In theory, the water washed away the sand and small pebbles, leaving the gold behind. In real life, the men had to swirl the water with their hands, the cold water biting into them. Every shovel load yielded perhaps two or three small flecks of gold.It was a grueling work, Rose could see. Yet, by noon, the men had. More and more of the room was revealed as I opened the door widerand wider. A small child of about four years old was sitting on a bed,humming to herself as she brushed her long light colored hair.I let out a startled gasp causing the little girl to turn, "Mommy, can youbrush my hair for me?" I slowly stepped into the room and took the woodenbrush in my hesitant, trembling hand. She smiled and flipped her golden hairaway from her neck with tiny hands.Across from me a mirror caught my attention,. More

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