he came to a little `colour'-showing shelf, or false bottom,
thirty or forty feet down -- he'd go rooting round and spoil the shaft,
and then start to sink another. It was extraordinary that he hadn't the sense
to sink straight down, thoroughly test the second bottom,
and if he found no gold there, to fill the shaft up to the other bottoms,
or build platforms at the proper level and then explore them.
He was living in a lunatic asylum the last time I heard of him.
And the last time I heard from that field, they were boring the ground
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