CHAPTER XVI
UNEXPECTED COMPANY
The next morning everybody at the Headquarters of the Never-Give-UpCalifornia Mining Company was up an hour before the sun flashed itsgolden light over the tops of the eastern mountains and down on the logcabins and tents of Hangtown. All the workers in the mining-camps wentto bed early, tired out with their hard day's work with pick and shovel,slept soundly, and arose early the next morning to begin another day oftoil. Only the drones--the gamblers, the saloon-keepers, and theirfoolish patrons--burned the midnight oil, or, rather in this case, themidnight candle, for there was little oil to burn in these camps. Henceit was that when Thure and Bud hurried out of the house to wash theirhands and faces in a near-by spring, they saw that they were far frombeing the only early risers, that the smoke was rising from the chimneysof nearly every log cabin in sight and that in front of nearly everytent glowed a camp-fire, around which the cooks already could be seenpreparing breakfast.
"Well, this is great!" declared Bud, as he dashed the cool, refreshingwater over his face. "I feel like a new man already. There must besomething in this mountain air that gets into the blood and puts newlife into a fellow. Say, but isn't this a beautiful sight, like--like apicture painted by a great artist!" and his eyes swept over thesurrounding scene, now just becoming visible through the light of theearly dawn.
"You are right, it is a beautiful scene," and Thure stood up and allowedhis eyes to drink in, with all the enthusiasm of youth, the beauties ofthe scene; "but, I reckon, there is no artist that can paint a picturethe equal of that," and he pointed to the distant tops of the easternmountains. "It takes the brush of God to paint that kind of pictures!"
And Thure was right. No artist's skill could transfer to canvas the fullglories of such a scene as now delighted the eyes of Thure and Bud.
The first rays of the morning's sun flamed upon the snow-covered tops ofthe mountains towering high above their heads to the eastward, while themountainsides and valleys were still dark with the shadows of night; andeverywhere the flaming light of morning struck the crystal-white of thesnow on mountain top and pinnacle, that peak was crowned with a glorioushalo that glowed, first with grayish violet lights, swiftly changing tocrimson and rose, and from rose to gold, until, suddenly, the whole peakblazed forth in the glorious light of the full-risen sun. A vision foran artist to rhapsodize over; but for a God to paint!
"Bre'kfust! First an' last call tew bre'kfust!" yelled Ham from the opendoor of the house, just as the sun burst over the tops of the mountains.
"I feel as if I had just been to church," Thure said reverently, as thetwo boys started back to the house.
"So do I," agreed Bud. "Only no church or priest ever seem to bring Godas close to a fellow as such a scene as that does. I don't see howanybody can live in the mountains and not believe in God."
As soon as breakfast was eaten, Mr. Conroyal arose.
"Now," he said, "that we have all had a night in which to think over thetale of the dead miner we had better get together and decide on what wehad best do; and, as Dill suggested last night, we will first talk itover in an informal way. Now, what do you think about the truth of theminer's yarn? That, of course, is the first thing to settle; for thereis no need of bothering with the matter at all, unless we feel quitesure that the miner really found a cave something like the one hedescribed to Thure and Bud."
"Well, considering all things," and Frank Holt took the pipe he had litand was puffing on out of his mouth and laid it down on the table, "andmore especially considering the fact, that, when I saw him in Coleman's,he appeared to have just got in from a long prospecting spell in themountains and to have plenty of gold along with him, and gold of adifferent kind than is found anywhere around here, I feel quite certainthat Stackpole's yarn about finding that Cave of Gold comes pretty nighto being true, nigh enough at least to be worth investigating."
"Them's my sentiments right down tew a T," declared Ham emphatically."Whar thar's ben so much smoke, thar's sart'in tew be some fire. I'm infavor of makin' a hunt for th' Cave of Gold; but, afore doin' it, I'dlike tew know how that thar wing dam project over in Holt's Gulch ispromisin' tew pan out. If 'twon't take tew long, I'd like tew see thatjob finished afore we have a try for th' Cave of Gold. I reckon we'veall put tew many backaches an' armaches intew that dam tew want tew see'em wasted; an' thar might be a wagon load of gold thar, an', if tharis, we want tew be th' ones tew git it, after all our work."
"Right, Ham's right," asserted Mr. Randolph. "Now, supposing we all godown and have a look at that dam, and try to figure out just about howmuch longer it will take to finish it, before we decide anythingdefinitely about the hunt for the Cave of Gold. I feel almost sure thatwe are going to strike it rich there, and I'd hate like sin to see anyone else reap where we've sown so many backaches, as Ham says."
"I think Rad has it about right," declared Mr. Conroyal, "and, if thereare no objections, we'll all go down to Holt's Gulch and have a look atthe wing dam. I fancy it wouldn't please none of us much, after workingas hard as we have, to see somebody else step into our boots there andreap a fortune, as like as not they'd do, if we deserted the dam now. Ireckon it won't take more than a week to finish the dam; and then a fewhours will show whether or not we've struck pay-dirt."
There were no objections made to this proposition, although Rex and Dilland Thure and Bud grumbled a little over the prospect of having the huntfor the Cave of Gold delayed for a week; and, accordingly, all startedfor Holt's Gulch, so named in honor of its discoverer, Rex Holt.
The gulch was about two miles from Hangtown and was reached by passingup a deep and steep ravine, that split the side of the hill a littleabove Hangtown, for about a mile, and then up and over the side of theravine and down into a narrow little valley, into which a little streamof water tumbled through a rent in the walls of rock that nearlyenclosed the valley. This rent in the rocks was the entrance to Holt'sGulch; and the dam was being constructed something like half a milefarther up, where the gulch crooked about, like a bent elbow, andwidened out a little.
Many of the miners were already at work when our little company passedup the ravine on their way to Holt's Gulch, presenting scenes of thegreatest interest and novelty to the unaccustomed eyes of Thure and Bud,as they dug for the precious metal, sometimes up to their knees in mudand water, sometimes so far away from the water that all the pay-dirthad to be carried on their backs to the creek and there panned, butalways cheerful and hopeful that they "sure would strike it big soon."
"Now, what might those fellows be doing there? They look as if theymight be winnowing wheat; but, of course, that can't be what they aredoing," and Thure turned a puzzled face to Ham, as he pointed to where asmall company of Mexicans, lank and skinny and black as Arabs of thedesert, were gathering the loose dry dirt in large wooden bowls, tossingit up in the air, where the wind could blow away the lighter particles,and dexterously catching it again in their bowls, as it came down, orallowing it to fall on blankets or hides spread on the ground at theirfeet, in a manner very similar to the ancient method of separating thegrain from the chaff.
"Them are a breed of Mexies called Sonorans," answered Ham; "an' theyare a-throwin' that dirt up in th' air an' a-catchin' it ag'in tew gitth' gold out of it. You see th' wind keeps a-blowin' th' lighter dirtout an' a-leavin' th' gold, 'cause it's heavier, until thar's nuthin'left but th' dirt what's tew heavy for th' wind tew blow away an' th'gold-dust, which is cleaned by blowing th' heavy dirt out of th' bowlwith th' breath. That way of gittin' gold is called dry-washin'; an' istew slow an' dirty for Americans or anybody else that's got much gumptew 'em; but them tarnal Mexies seem tew thrive on it. I reckon th' goodLord made 'em nearly black, jest so they could live an' work in dirt,without th' dirt showin' through much. That sort of thing would kill awhite man in a week," and Ham looked his disgust.
"Say, but this gold-digging is no fun, no matter how you do it, is it?"and Thure's eyes swept up and down the ravine, where hundreds of menwere to
iling like ditch-diggers.
"Fun! Gold-diggin' fun!" and Ham grinned. "Th' feller what comes tew th'diggin's a-thinkin' that th' gold is a-goin' tew jump up right out ofth' ground, 'cause it's so glad tew see him, is a-goin' tew git fooled'bout as bad as Dutch Ike did, when he took a skunk for a new kind of anAmerican house cat an' tried tew pick it up in his arms. Fun! No;gold-diggin' is jest grit an' j'int grease mixed tewgether an' kepta-goin' with beans an' salt pork an' flapjacks. But, we're gettin' ahinda-watchin' them dirty Sonorans. Come on," and the huge strides of Hammade Thure and Bud both trot to keep up with him, as he hurried afterthe others, to whom the dry-washing Mexicans were too common a sight tobe worthy a moment's pause for the purpose of watching.
"Now, dad," and Thure turned inquiringly to his father, when, at length,all stood together in Holt's Gulch on the mound of dirt that had beenalready thrown up in building the wing dam, "I don't just see how thisdam is going to help you find the gold."
"Well, my son," and Mr. Conroyal smiled, "it is not at all surprising tofind that you do not know all about mining, seeing that you have been inthe diggings only over night; but I'll give you the theory of the dam.This little stream of water, as you can see from where we stand, makesrather a sharp turn a few rods down, against an almost perpendicularwall of rock, forming a curve in the stream that can be likened to thecrook in a bent arm, and leaving quite a little open space of groundalmost on a level with the water in the bend of the arm. Now we'vediscovered that there is a deep hole right at the elbow joint, partlyfilled with gravel and big enough to hold a good many tons of gold, buttoo deep to get at through the water; and we've figured it out somethinglike this. The gold found in all the diggings along the beds of rivershas been washed out of the rocks by the water and carried down by thecurrent, until stopped by its own weight or some obstruction; and wecalculate that most of the gold carried down by this stream would sinkdown into this hole and stay there, because, gold being so heavy, itwould sure fall down into the hole, and, once there, the water would notbe strong enough to lift it out again. Now, that is the reason why wethink there might be gold and lots of it in that there hole," and hepointed to the elbow made by the curve in the stream.
"But, of course, not being fish, we cannot get down into the hole to seewhether or not there is gold in it, as long as the water runs over it;and so we are making this wing dam up here above the elbow, to turn thestream into a new channel and send it flowing kitti-corner-wise acrossthe opening between the two arms of the elbow and back into its ownchannel below the elbow, which, of course, would leave the elbow dry andgive us a chance to clean out the hole and get all the gold there is init."
"Oh, I see now!" exclaimed Thure, his eyes beginning to shine withexcitement. "And you call it a wing dam, because you have to make a sortof a wing to the main dam, extending for quite a ways out on the dryland, in order to give the water a sufficient turn to keep it fromflowing back into the old channel until you are ready to have it."
"Exactly," and Mr. Conroyal smiled. "And, if the good Lord will onlykeep it from raining until we get the dam finished, all of us might makeour fortunes right here; and, again, we might not find a cent's worth ofgold. It's all a speculation," and he shrugged his big shoulders.
"But--but what difference could a little rain make? You are not afraidof getting wet, are you?" and Thure smiled at the thought of these hardymen standing in dread of a little rain.
"No, son, we are not afraid of getting wet," and Mr. Conroyal smiledgrimly. "But a big rain up there in the mountains where this streamcomes from, would mean that in less than no time a flood of water wouldcome a-tearing down this narrow gulch that would sweep our dam off itsfeet quicker than you could wink an eye--and us along with it, if wedidn't get out of here about as lively as the Lord would let us.Howsomever we are not counting much on a rain, seeing that the dryseason has got a fairly good start; but it might come," and his eyesturned a little anxiously toward the snow-covered mountains to thenortheast, whence came the little stream of water running through Holt'sGulch. "But, come, we must get busy. Now, the first thing for us to dois to figure out about how much longer it will take us to finish thedam. I calculate that we have the dam about two-thirds done; and, sincewe have now been at work twelve days, I think we can count on finishingit in another six days."
"That's 'bout my idee, Con," agreed Ham. "Another six days otter see th'finish of th' job; an' then--maybe it will be gold an' maybe it will bejest a lot of durned hard work for nothin'; but it shore looks good; an'I'm in favor of seein' this dam through afore tacklin' th' Cave of Goldpropersition."
For an hour or more our friends measured and figured and considered; andthen, all coming to the conclusion that Mr. Conroyal's estimate of thetime required to complete the dam was about right, the Never-Give-UpCalifornia Mining Company went into executive session, and, after againconsidering the marvelous tale of the dead miner and again examining thegold nugget and the skin map and again carefully weighing their chancesof finding gold in the hollow of the stream's elbow after the turning ofthe water aside by the dam, the Company finally decided that the damproposition looked too good to throw up, even for such an alluringproject as the hunt for the wonderful Cave of Gold, especially since theCave of Gold could not run away and would still be there waiting to befound after the dam proposition had been thoroughly tried out.Accordingly it was voted to first complete the dam and see if there wasany gold in the old bed of the stream; and then, if it was still thewish of the Company, they would start on a hunt for the miner's Cave ofGold.
"That means for everybudy tew git busy tew once with pick or shovel,"and Ham jumped to his feet and seized a pick the moment the result ofthe final vote was announced. "We want tew git this here dam built jestas soon as we can, an' find out what's in that thar hole; an' then, Ireckon, we'll all want tew have a try for that thar gold cave, unless wegits enough gold out of th' hole tew plumb fill us all up with gold,"and Ham grinned joyously, as he struck the sharp point of his pick downdeep into the hard dirt.
There was always the prospect of a big find in the near future to keepup the spirits of the gold-digger. What did his condition to-day matterto him, when to-morrow he might fill his pockets full of gold! When allhe had to do was to shoulder his pick and shovel, pick up his gold-pan,and go out almost anywhere and dig enough gold out of the ground atleast to live on! When every morning was cheered by the possibility ofstriking it rich before night, and the discouragements of every nightwere lightened by the thought that to-morrow might be his lucky day! Thestar of hope always brightened his darkest skies; and so long as he kepthis health, he usually kept his courage and good-nature. Consequentlythe reader need not wonder at the joyous grin on Ham's face, when hebegan tearing up the earth with his pick; for every blow might bebringing him a step nearer to a fortune!
The building of a dam under any circumstances is hard and dirty work;but, when the only tools are picks and shovels, when all the dirt thatcannot be thrown into place with the shovel, must be lugged there on thebacks of the laborers themselves, as was the case with our friends,then, indeed, does the building of a dam become about as fatiguing workas a human being can undertake to do, as Thure and Bud both discoveredlong before the night of their first day's work in the goldmines ofCalifornia came to bring rest to their aching backs and arms and legs.But that day saw the completion of the wing part of the dam and the newchannel so far as it was thought necessary to dig one and now all thatremained to be done was to extend the dam across the stream itself; andthis progress put all, even the two boys notwithstanding theirweariness, into splendid spirits.
"I reckon it won't take us th' hull six days tew finish th' job,"commented Ham, as he threw down his pick and wiped his perspiring facewith a huge red handkerchief at the close of the day's work. "We didn'tcalculate that you tew yunks was such hosses tew work," and he grinnedinto the faces of Thure and Bud; and the two tired boys grinned bravelyback. They were not going to let anybody know just how very, very tiredthey really were.
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That night, when the returning laborers came within sight of their loghouse, they were greatly surprised to see the smoke pouring hospitablyout of its chimney and a light glowing a bright welcome through itswindows.
"Now, who can it be!" exclaimed Ham, the moment his eyes caught sight ofthe smoke and the light, while all quickened their steps and their facesbrightened; for company in that lonely log house was such a rarity as tobe most gladly welcomed. "Won't expectin' nobudy, was you, Con?"
"No," answered Conroyal. "I can't imagine who it can be."
"Maybe it's th' minister an' his wife come tew make us a social-likecall. Wal, he won't git no chicken dinner, if it is," and Ham grinned.
At the door of the house the mystery was solved by the sudden appearancein the doorway of the smiling face of Mrs. Dickson glowing with the heatof the fire over which she had been cooking and her own happiness,backed by the grinning countenance of her husband.
"Dick and I felt just as if we had to celebrate our good fortunesomeway, or bust," she explained, smiling and bowing to the astonishedmen; "and, of course, we didn't want to celebrate it all alone, so wejust moved in here for the celebration, your house being larger thanours. Now, get washed up as quick as you can and come right in. Supperis almost ready; and Dick has bought out nearly all the stores inHangtown. Thought you men folks might enjoy a taste of woman's cookingagain," and her sweet laugh rang out joyously.
"Got everything good to eat they had in Hangtown, boys," and Dicksonthrust his head out over one of his wife's shoulders; "and Mollie'scooked a dinner that just fairly makes a fellow's insides jump to get awhiff of. Whoop! I've taken a good Ten Thousand Dollars' worth of goldout of that hole by the side of the big rock already! And there is moreleft there, boys! There is more left there!" and the happy man caughthis wife around the waist and began waltzing with her around the table.
"Wal, I'll be durned!" was the way Ham expressed his feelings at thisunexpected but most welcomed invasion of their home; and, judging fromthe looks on the faces of the others, that was about the way all felt.
Our friends promptly hurried away to the spring to "wash up," as theLittle Woman had commanded; and soon were back again, with, probably,just a little cleaner faces and hands than they had had before in weeks.
"Now, just sit right down to the table," Mrs. Dickson urged, the momentthey came filing in. "Everything is ready for you to begin eating rightaway; and nobody is to wait on ceremony. I know you must be about ashungry as bears. Dick and I have already eaten until we are both aboutready to bust, the things looked and smelled so good we couldn't wait nohow, so we've got nothing else to do but just to wait on you big hungrymen--There, sit right down there, Ham, in front of that gold-panfull--but it is a surprise; and I won't tell you what is in that panyet," and she pushed the grinning Ham down on the block of wood that didservice in lieu of a dining chair in front of a steaming coveredgold-pan.
One near whiff of the contents of this pan and Ham jumped to his feet.
"Whoop, boys!" he yelled. "It's chicken! It's chicken pie! Whoop! Hurrahfor th' Leetle Woman!" and, whirling suddenly around, he threw one bigarm around Mrs. Dickson, drew her quickly to him, and gave her a smackon one of her rosy cheeks that sounded like the report of a pistol.
"And the only chickens in Hangtown are in that pie," declared Dicksonproudly. "When we saw those birds Mollie and I just couldn't keep ourhands off them. They seemed to be just a-begging us to buy them and makethem into a chicken pie. Now, fall to, boys; and, with every mouthfulthat you eat, think of our good luck. It means a lot to us, boys, awhole lot to the Little Woman and me. We are going back to our dear oldNew York home on the beautiful banks of the Hudson--Hi, there, Ham! Juststart the chicken pie a-going round. You are not the only mouth at thetable," and Dickson, doubtless feeling that sentiment was beginning toget a little the best of him, rushed excitedly about the table, as hehelped to pass the good things Mrs. Dickson had cooked from one toanother.
That was a dinner to remember as long as one lived. The circumstances ofits giving were so unusual and so generous, its surroundings were sounique, and its jolliness was so whole-hearted and spontaneous, thatever afterwards it was one of the bright spots in the memories of allwho were present.
When the eating was ended the men went outside and built a huge fire infront of the house; and then sat down around it and smoked their pipesand told stories and compared mining notes and discussed theever-present questions of where the gold came from and how it got there,all of which would make interesting reading, but which, because of otherevents that are crowding forward, must be passed over thus briefly.
For a couple of hours the talk around the camp-fire continued; Mrs.Dickson had joined the circle, and then Mr. and Mrs. Dickson both rose.
"It's getting late and we must be going," declared Mrs. Dickson.
"Not yit! Not yit! Not until you've sung for us!" cried Ham, jumping tohis feet. "We can't let her go without a song, can we, boys?"
The reply was an unanimous demand for the song; and Mrs. Dickson,smiling and bowing and blushing, like a happy schoolgirl, and declaringthat she was afraid she had eaten too much to sing, straightened up herplump little body, threw back her head, and was about to begin to singin the dark shadows where she stood, when Ham caught her by both hershoulders and gently pushed her out into the bright light of thecamp-fire.
"Th' song wouldn't sound nigh as good, if we couldn't see th' singerplain," he declared, his face seemingly one broad grin. "Thar, that's'bout right," and he swung her around so that the brightest light shonefull on her face. "Now give us good old 'Ben Bolt,' Somehow that songkinder seems tew sweeten me all up inside," and Ham sat down almostdirectly in front of Mrs. Dickson.
Mrs. Dickson had a sweet, clear, bird-like voice, and what she lacked intraining she more than made up in the feeling she put into the words shesang; and her singing always touched the hearts of these lonely minersdeeply. But to-night, as she stood there, with the ruddy light of thecamp-fire shining on her face and dimly illuminating the surroundingshadows of the lonely night and the towering mountains and the tall pinetrees, and sang the beautiful words and melody of "Sweet Alice, BenBolt," she struck a deeper chord still, and all listened like menentranced until the last note died away in the silence of the encirclingnight.
"I never knowed I liked music so well, 'til I heer'd th' Leetle Womansing," declared Ham the moment the sound of Mrs. Dickson's voice ceased."Her singin' seems tew come a-knockin' right at th' door of a feller'sheart. Now, dew sing us another one," and he turned pleadingly to Mrs.Dickson.
"Yes, I will sing you just one more song; and then we must be going. Itmust be nearly ten o'clock; and those two tired boys have been noddingtheir heads for the last half-hour."
"Me!" "We!" and Thure and Bud both sat up very straight. "Oh, we werejust nodding our heads to keep time to your music. Please do singagain."
For answer Mrs. Dickson lifted her face to the sparkling skies; andthen, while the tears gathered in her own eyes and her sweet voicetrembled a little, she sang that song dear to the hearts of allwanderers no matter where they roam, "Home, Sweet Home."
"Now, good night, everybody. Come, Dick," and, turning quickly themoment she stopped singing, Mrs. Dickson caught hold of her husband'sarm and hurried away before the spell of the song and the singer wasbroken.
A half an hour later the lights in both the houses were out and theirinmates sound asleep.
The Cave of Gold Page 19