In the Land of the Long White Cloud

farmland, and most of them were closer to Queenstown than Ruben’s claim. The men had built up colonies of barracks there, though in Mary’s eyes they were more like new renditions of Sodom and Gomorrah. The young woman had elaborated on that in vivid detail; the girl evidently knew her Bible. Fleur was happy not to have to look for Ruben among this horde of rough men. She directed Niniane along the riverbank, joyful in the clear though rather cold air. In late summer, it was still warm in the Canterbury Plains, but this region lay higher, and the trees along the way offered a foretaste of the autumnal play of colors that could be expected. In a few weeks, the lupines would bloom.
    Fleur nevertheless found it strange that the region was so devoid of people. If one could set down claims here, then it really should have been crawling with prospectors.
    Ethan the postman kept precise records of each individual claim’s position and had given her a detailed description of Ruben and Stue’s claim. It would not have been all that difficult to find anyway. The two men were camped along the river, and both Gracie and Niniane became aware of them before Fleur did. Niniane’s ears stood on end and she let out a deafening whinny—which was immediately returned. Gracie then caught wind of Ruben and darted off to greet him.
    Fleur saw Minette first. The mare stood tied next to a mule off to the side and looked over at her, excited. Closer to the river Fleur could make out a campfire as well as a primitive tent. Too close to the river, the thought shot through her head. If the Shotover suddenly swelled—which often happened with rivers fed by mountain streams—it would carry the camp off.
    “Minnie!” Fleurette called to her mare, and Minette answered with a deep, happy neigh. Niniane hurried over to her. Fleur slipped down from her saddle in order to embrace her horse. But where was Ruben? From the sparse woods just behind the camp she heard the sound of sawing and hammer blows—which suddenly went still. Fleurette smiled. Gracie must have found Ruben.
    Indeed they came running out of the woods. To Fleurette, the whole thing seemed like a dream come true. Ruben was there; shehad found him! At first glance he looked good. His narrow face was tanned, and his eyes lit up like they always did when he saw her. But when she put her arms around him, she could feel his ribs; he was horribly thin. His features were marked by mental and physical exhaustion too. Ruben clearly still had no gift for manual labor.
    “Fleur, Fleur! What are you doing here? How did you find me? Did you lose patience and run away? How terrible of you, Fleurette!” He laughed.
    “I thought I’d take fortune-hunting into my own hands,” Fleur replied, pulling out her father’s purse from the pocket of her riding dress. “Look, you don’t need to look for gold anymore. But that’s not why I ran away…I…”
    Ruben ignored the pouch, taking her hand instead. “Tell me later. First let me show you our camp. It’s beautiful here, much better than the awful sheep farm where we were housed at first.”
    He pulled her along with him in the direction of the woods, but Fleur shook her head.
    “We have to tie up the horse first, Ruben! How did you even manage not to lose Minette in all these months?”
    Ruben grinned. “
She
was careful not to lose
me
. That was her assignment, remember? You told her to watch out for me!” He petted Gracie, who hung around him whining.
    When Niniane finally stood reliably secured next to Minette and the mule, Fleurette followed an excited Ruben through the camp.
    “This is where we sleep…nothing grand, but it’s clean. You have no idea what it was like on the farm…and here’s the stream. That’s where the gold flows!” He pointed to a narrow but lively little stream flowing into the Shotover.
    “Where do you see it?” Fleur inquired.
    “You don’t see it; you feel it,” Ruben instructed her. “You have to pan for it. I’ll show you how it works in a minute. But we’re building a sluice as we speak. Here, over here, this is Stue.”
    Ruben’s companion had left where he was working and approached the two of them. Fleurette liked him from the start. He was a muscular, light-blond giant with a wide, friendly face and laughing blue eyes.
    “Stuart Peters, at your service, madam!” He held a powerful paw out to Fleurette, which her delicate hand completely disappeared into. “If I may say so,