by Mayne Reid
forward, grasped my hand, and nearly crushed itbetween his strong, sinewy fingers.
"Rowley, my boy!" said he, "I knew we should meet again. I've thoughtof you, as I would of my own son, if I'd had one. I've looked the worldover, trying to find you. How come you to hail me by name last night?You are an astonishing chap. I knew you would be; and some one haslarnt you manners. Ah! I suppose 'twas Nature as did it?"
I need not say, that Stormy and I, after this singular renewal ofcompanionship, were not likely to part in a hurry. We passed that daytogether, talking over old times--Stormy giving me a history of someevents of his life, which had transpired since our parting in NewOrleans.
"On the morning I last saw you," said he, "I went to work on the ship,as I intended; and did a hard day's work--for which I've never yet beenpaid.
"When I was going home to you, I met an old shipmate; and, in course, wewent into a grog-shop to have something to drink.
"After having a glass with my friend at his expense, of course, it wasbut right for him to have one at mine. We then parted company; and Imade tracks for the lodging-house, where I had left you.
"Them two glasses of brandy, after working hard all the afternoon in thehot sun, did more for me, than ever the same quantity had done before.I was drunk somewhere, though I was not exactly certain where.
"Just before reaching the house where we were staying, I met the firstbreezer, who, you remember, had knocked me down with the carpenter'smallet. Well! without more ado, I went to work to teach him manners.
"While giving him the lesson, I larnt that it was my head that wasdrunk: for my legs and arms did their duty. I beat and kicked him in away, that would have rejoiced the heart of any honest man. Just as Iwas polishing him off, two constables came up, and collared me away togaol.
"The next morning, I was sentenced to one month's imprisonment. CaptainBrannon did not like that: for he wanted me back aboard of his ship.But the magistrate, mayor, or whatever he was, that sentenced me, hadtoo much respect for me to allow the captain to have his own way; and Iwas lodged and fed, free of all expense, until the `Hope' had sailed.
"After coming out of the gaol, I went straight to the boarding-house, inhopes of finding you still there; but I larnt that you had gone away,the next day after I was jugged; and the old woman could not give anyaccount of where you had drifted to. I thought that you had joined the`Hope' again, and gone home. I've been everywhere over the world sincethen; and I don't know how I could have missed seeing you before now!
"I came to San Francisco Bay in an English ship--the captain of whichtried to hinder the crew from deserting, by anchoring some distance fromthe city, and keeping an armed watch over them. He thought we were suchfools as to leave San Francisco in his ship for two pounds a month,when, by taking another vessel, we could get twenty! He soon found hismistake. We larnt him manners, by tying and gagging him, as well as hisfirst officer, and steward. Then we all went ashore in the ships'boats--leaving the ship where I suppose she is now--to rot in the bay ofSan Francisco.
"After coming up to the diggings, I had no luck for a long time; but I'mnow working one of the richest claims as ever was opened."
During the day, I told Stormy the particulars of my visit to Dublin; andthe trouble I was in concerning the loss of my relatives.
"Never mind 'em!" said he, "make a fortune here--and then make a familyof your own. I've been told that that's the best way to forget oldfriends, though, for myself, I never tried it."
Stormy's advice seemed wisdom: as it led me to think of Lenore. Beforeparting with my old messmate, I learnt from him where he was living. Wearranged to see each other often; and as soon as we should have anopportunity of dissolving the respective partnerships in which each wasengaged, we should unite and work together.
Stormy was the first friend who took me by the hand--after I had beenturned out upon the cold world; and time had not changed the warmattachment I had long ago conceived for the brave sailor.
Volume One, Chapter XXII.
On leaving San Francisco, Guinane had declared his intention of going tothe Stanislaus river; and his acquaintances, left behind in that city,had been directed to write to him at the latter place.
One Saturday morning, he borrowed a mule from one of the neighbouringminers, to ride over to the post-office for his letters.
The miner owning the mule, was just going to his work; and pointed outthe animal to Guinane. It was grazing on the hill-side, about half amile distant from our tents. In addition to pointing it out, the ownerdescribed it to be a brown mule, with rat tail, and hog mane.
He then brought the saddle and bridle out of his tent; and, placing themat Dick's disposal, went off to his work.
Dick proceeded towards the hill, caught and saddled the mule, and,bidding me good-day, rode off on his journey.
I was expecting him back that evening; but he did not return. I felt noconcern on account of his remaining absent all that night. The next daywas Sunday; and knowing that he would not be wanted to do any work onthe claim, he might, for some purpose that did not concern me, havechosen to stay all night in the town.
Sunday evening came, without Guinane; and, fearing that some accidentmight have befallen him, I resolved to start next morning for thepost-office, should he not return before that time.
The next morning came, without bringing back the absentee; and I set outin search of him.
After going about five miles, I met him returning; and, to my surprise,I saw that he was afoot! I was still more surprised as he drew near,and I obtained a close view of his face and features. Never in my lifehad I seen such a change in the person of any individual, in so short atime. He seemed at least ten years older, than when he left me at thediggings two days before.
His face was pale and haggard; and there was a wild fiendish expressionin his eyes, that was fearful to behold. I could not have believed theeyes of Richard Guinane capable of such an expression. His clothing wastorn to rags, bedaubed with dirt, and spotted with dry blood. In short,his whole appearance was that of a man who had been badly abused.
"What has happened?" I asked, mechanically--as soon as my surprise athis appearance permitted me to speak.
"I can't tell now," said he, speaking with much difficulty. "I musthave water."
I turned back; and we walked on towards our tents, in which direction wehad not far to go, before arriving at a coffee-shop. There he dranksome water, with a glass of brandy; and then, ordering a breakfast, hewent out to have a wash in the river--an operation of which I had neverseen a human being in greater need.
He ate his breakfast in haste--scarce speaking a word until he hadfinished. Then, starting suddenly from his seat, he hurried out of thehouse; and moved on along the road towards the place where our tentswere pitched.
"Come on!" cried he. "I cannot stop to talk. I've work to do. I wantrevenge. Look here!"
He stopped till I came up--when, lifting the long dark hair from thesides of his head, he permitted me to see that he had _no ears_!
"Will you aid me in obtaining revenge?" he asked.
"Yes," I answered, "with my body and soul!"
"I knew you would!" he exclaimed. "Come on! we have no time to lose."
As we walked homeward, I learnt from him the particulars of the terriblemisfortune that had befallen him.
On the Saturday morning, after starting off for the town, he had gotabout a mile beyond the place where I had met him, when he was overtakenby a party of four Mexicans.
Before he was well aware that they had any intention to molest him, alazo was thrown over his shoulders; and he was dragged to the ground--where his arms were instantly pinioned.
By signs, he was made to understand: that his captors claimed the mule,upon which he had been riding.
Guinane could speak but few words of Spanish; and therefore could notmake the Mexicans understand, how the mule came into his possession.
After holding a consultation amongst themselves, th
ey took his revolverfrom him; and, whilst three of them held him, the fourth cut off both ofhis ears! They then mounted their horses, and rode away--taking withthem the mule Guinane had borrowed from the miner.
After going about three hundred yards, they halted, took off the saddleand bridle--which they did not claim to own--threw them on the ground,as also Guinane's revolver; and then continued their course.
Nothing can be said to justify these men for what they had done; butprobably they could have alleged some excuse for their conduct.
They undoubtedly believed that Guinane had stolen the mule; and theyknew that if one of their own countrymen had been caught in a similaract, he would have been fortunate to have escaped with his life. Theysaw no reason why an American should not be punished for a misdeed--aswell as a Mexican.
Guinane pursued them at the top of his