There's never been gold mining in that one so I meandered up the valley floor.I looked around a lot. Archaeologists suffer from the "grazing cow syndr...me." We look at our feet and swing our heads side to side like cows looking for a delightful bit of grass, but we're really looking for evidence of prior occupation in the form of cultural material. It doesn't have to be artifactual debris, it can be the white mans' trash. You might be surprised at the things early settlers throw away, or drop. I shouted, "LEFT! RIGHT! RIGHT-RIGHT! LEFT-LEFT-LEFT!" and so on, to mask Bette's wailing.Twenty strokes later found us emotionally exhausted. I helped her to lay face down on my bed. I sat on the edge beside her. My plan was to sit there until our tears had dried. Hers were far more and wetter.Despite her pain, she reached to my trousers and felt for my erection. It seemed to reassure her, that some good had come out of her suffering. I opened my fly to her gentle knocks. "Go ahead." I. More

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