by G. A. Henty
The two lads stopped as they got behind the bush.
“It looks like a path here, Dave; it has certainly been trodden.”
The miners came to the spot.
“You are right,” Dave said; “it is a path, sure enough. Animals of some sort come up and down—bears, I should say; maybe goats, and lots of them, like enough; it is the only way they can get down from the top into the valley, and they come down to drink.”
The ridge was wider than it looked, being, where it started, fully two feet across. The boys at once set off up it; as Dick had supposed, it met another ledge running along halfway up the face of the hill. From below this ledge seemed a mere line, but it was really two feet wide in most places, and even at the narrowest was not less than a foot. Two hundred yards along, another ascent was met with, and after half an hour’s climbing they found themselves on a level plateau, from which they could see across to the three peaks. The path was everywhere worn smooth, showing that it had been used for ages by animals of some kind.
“One would almost think it had been cut by hand,” Dick said; “who would have thought from below that there was such a way as this out of the valley? The best of it is, that it is good enough for the horses to get up as well as us. Well, thank goodness, we have found a back door to that place. It was not a pleasant idea that we might be shut up there with the option of being either shot or starved.”
“They would take some time to starve us, Dick; nine horses would last us for a long time.”
“Yes, but it would come sooner or later, Tom. Anyhow, I shall feel a great deal more comfortable now I know that there is a way out.”
“But the Indians know of it too, Dick, if, as Dave thinks, they came down this way to attack the Mexicans.”
“Yes, that is not such a comfortable idea.”
“Well, lads, what do you make of it?” Dave shouted to them as they approached the bottom.
“We have been right up to the top; the ponies could go anywhere. It is narrow in places, but we have passed many worse on the way; the cliffs never close up, so even at the worst places there is room for them to get along with their loads.”
“What is it like at the top?”
“Level ground along to the drop of the cliffs, hills behind it to the south.”
“Well, it is a comfort there is a way down into the valley. Anyhow, since you have been gone, we have been fossicking about, and there is no doubt about the gold; it is the richest place any of us have ever seed.”
“Have you found water, Dave?”
“No, that is the one thing bad, we shall have to go out to fetch water, but maybe if we dig in the center of the channel we shall find it. The best place to try will be at the end, right under where the waterfall comes down in winter. There is most always a deep hole in the rock there, where the water and stones and so on have come down and pounded away the bed rock. We found where the gold comes from too. There is a big quartz vein running right up the face of the cliff there; it is just full of gold. You can see it sparkle everywhere. Some day, when the Indians is all wiped out, fellows will bring machinery and powder, and will have one of the richest mines in the world. However, that don’t concern us. I reckon there is enough in this gravel under our feet to make a hundred men rich. Now, Boston, what do you think is the best thing to do first?”
“See if we can get water, Dave. If we were shut up here without water they would have us in twelve hours, so we have got to get enough for ourselves and the horses to drink if we can, even if we have to fetch up what we want for the gravel. When we have got water, the next job will be to make a cradle; there are plenty of trees here, and we have got our hatchets, and we have brought the zinc screens, so we have got everything we want. I don’t say we mightn’t pick up a lot in nuggets. Still, I have got a dozen already, making, I should say, over an ounce between them. Still, the others is the real thing to depend on.”
“And there is another thing, Dave,” Zeke put in; “we must have a watch. We had intended that, but we thought we should have only one place to watch; now we have found this track up the hill we have two.”
“That is so, Dave, though it is pretty hard on us having two out of five idle. Still, we have got a lesson there,” Boston said, pointing to the spot where they had found the skeletons.
“Aye, aye, it has got to be done,” Dave said. “Well, lads, will you take the watch to-day, one above and one at the mouth, and we will set to work at the water hole?”
“We will toss up which goes up the hill again, Dick. You spin. Heads; tails it is.”
“Then I will choose the mouth here. You go up to the mouth’s head.”
“Don’t you be walking about when you get to the top,” Dave said. “Find some place where you can get a clear view all round, and then lie down. Choose a bit of shade, if you can find it. When we knock off work and have had a bit of grub, I will come up and take your place.”
It was just getting dusk when Dave came up and relieved Dick.
“Are you going to stay here all night, Dick?”
“Yes, we have agreed I shall keep watch here to-night, Boston to-morrow night, and then I go on again. Zeke will take the watch below regular; he sleeps like a dog, and the least noise in the world will wake him, so he will do very well. Can you make out the Indian village across there from here?”
“Yes, quite plainly.”
“You have not been using your glass, I hope,” Dave said in alarm.
“No, I forgot to bring it up with me. But why shouldn’t I?”
“Because if the sun were to flash on the glass or brasswork, it would be sartin to catch the eye of someone in the village, and if it did you may be sure they would send up to see what it was. Still, if you can make out the village, it will save us the need for keeping watch in the daytime down below. It is from there we have got to expect an attack the most, and if you saw them moving out strong, you could shout down to us and we should be ready for them. At night, in course, we must watch both places, for there may be, for anything we know, a big village half a mile from here, and the attack might come from one way or the other. I expect you would rather work than watch, Dick; so you had better arrange to change places with Tom in the middle of the day, then you can each work half a day. You will find that plenty, I warrant.”
“Did you find water, Dave?”
“Yes, plenty of it, enough for the horses and the washing too.”
CHAPTER XI
Hard at Work
Tom took the first watch in the morning. Dick rendered all the assistance he could to the men, who cut down a couple of the trees that stood in the gorge, chopped them into eight-feet lengths, and then with wedges split them into boards, which they smoothed up with an adze. All were accustomed to the work, and by nightfall a deep trough was constructed, resting upon rockers like a cradle.
Next morning the work began; two men threw the gravel and sand into the cradle, the third kept it in motion, while whichever of the boys was off watch brought water in two of the pails from the hole.
The horses were no trouble, finding plenty of coarse grass among the rocks, and only requiring watering night and morning. Thrice a day the contents of the cradle were cleared entirely out, and the gold that had sunk to the bottom collected. Much, of it was in fine dust, but there was also a large number of nuggets, varying in size from a pea to a marble. Each clear-up they obtained on an average eight or nine pounds of gold.
The fourth day Tom had come down from above at twelve o’clock, and found that the men had only just finished the clear-up, and had sat down to have some food.
Having nothing to do, he strolled away to the spot where the Mexicans had been massacred, a short distance away, on some ground at the side of the valley. Some three or four feet above the ground level of the bottom he saw a charred stump of a pole sticking up; he went across to it.
“I suppose this is where the leader of the party had a tent or rough hut,” he said.
He was confirmed in t
he belief by a number of bits of charred wood lying round the pole.
“It was sort of arbor, I suppose,” he said to himself.
There were several relics lying about: two boots shriveled by fire, a tin cup flattened by some weight that had fallen on it, a pistol with its stock blackened by fire. He called the men to the spot.
“Yes, like enough it is as you say, Dick, but it is scarcely worth getting up to look at.”
“No, there is not much to look at, Dave, but you have been wondering ever since you came that you had not come upon any of the gold they must have gathered, and you said you didn’t believe the Indians had taken it away. Now if this was the hut of the leader of the party, it struck me that it would most likely be kept here, and that it may be buried somewhere under this circle of ashes.”
“Tom is right, mates,” Dave said, “that is just where the gold would be kept, and there aint much doubt that they would bury it as they got it, so as to prevent anyone from taking any of it till it was divided up. Let us fetch our picks, Boston, and we will soon see if it is here. Let us try round the post first,” he went on, when the three men fetched their picks; “it will be either close to the middle of the hut, or else on one side under where he made his bed.”
The ground was sand, which had been washed up by an, eddy in one of the floods, and they had struck but three or four blows with the pick, when Dave exclaimed:
“Here is something, boys!”
They had brought a shovel with them, and throwing aside the sand, they saw a piece of leather.
“It is a bag,” Joe said; “this is their hoard, sure enough.”
Going down on their hands and knees, they pulled up bag after bag, each about fifty pounds in weight, until they had a pile on the surface of eight bags.
“Eureka!” Dave exclaimed, as he lifted the last bag out of the hole. “They had made something like a pile; no doubt they were a strong party, but even with that they must have been here a couple of months to have got this lot together. Well, Boston,” and he held out his hand, “we can go east again; we have struck it rich at last.”
“You bet,” Joe said briefly.
“How much is it?” Dick asked.
“Each of them bags weighs about fifty pounds, Dick.”
Dick looked incredulous, and stooped to pick up one of the bags, and was astonished at its weight.
“Fifty pounds if it weighs an ounce, and there are eight of them—four hundred pounds of gold; think of that, lad; that is pretty nigh eighty pounds apiece. I aint good at reckoning, but put it rough at two hundred and fifty dollars a pound, that is somewhere like two hundred thousand dollars each.”
“Forty thousand pounds!” Dick exclaimed; “it does not seem possible.”
“We aint got it to the settlements yet,” Zeke said quietly; “them chaps had it, and they lost it. Don’t let us figure it up much till we get beyond the sound of the Apache war-whoop.”
“Well, I will go on watch at the mouth,” Dick said, “and then you can talk things over together.”
“Do, Dick; there is a lot more to look after than there was before, and it makes one feel one can’t be too careful. Anyhow we won’t stay a day longer in this place. We will be off to-night.”
Dick went nearly down to the mouth of the narrow gorge. He had expected they would find a treasure, and although this far exceeded his anticipations, he did not feel the excitement the men had shown at the discovery of the treasure. He sat down on a rock, and amused himself with the thought of the wonder there would be at home. Suddenly he heard the sound of a horse’s hoof, and grasping his rifle, stooped down behind a fallen rock. A moment later a mounted Indian dashed past the mouth of the rift. He was scarce twenty yards away, but Dick noticed the eagle feathers of his head-dress, the rifle slung across his shoulder, and the leggings decorated with tufts of hair. It was but a moment, and then he was gone. Dick waited a minute or two, and then ran in to tell the miners. They uttered an exclamation of alarm.
“He went right on,” Dick said. “He didn’t check the speed of his horse or glance my way.”
“That is no sign,” Zeke said. “The chances are that fellow has happened on our trail maybe a mile, maybe fifty, back and he has just been following it. Why should he be riding so close to the cliffs if he was not tracking us?”
“But he didn’t look in,” Dick persisted.
“He warn’t such a fool, lad. He knew well enough that if he glanced round, and there was anyone on watch there, he would have a bullet through him sartin.”
“What shall we do? Shall we saddle up at once, Dave?” Boston Joe asked.
“We may as well pack the horses anyhow, Boston, but we can’t go till it is dark. If a party like ours were to show up there, they would see us from the village sure. Do you run up, Dick, and keep a lookout with Tom at the village. You can crawl along, if you like, nearer to the edge, and make out if that fellow is riding there. If you see him go there come down with the news, and tell Tom to hurry down as quick as he can if he sees a party setting out. We will have the horses saddled up by the time you are down again.”
CHAPTER XII
Retreat
Dick sprang up the hill, and, as soon as he joined Tom, astonished him with the account of the discovery of the treasure collected by the other party, and also by the news that it was probable that the Indians would be speedily upon them. All this he told him as he was crawling forward towards the edge of the cliff.
“There he goes!” he exclaimed, when they neared it. “Do you see him going up the slope toward the village? How clear the air is. Dave says it is six miles there if it is a foot; it does not look more than one.
“Well, I must go and tell them below. Mind, Tom, the moment you see a party issue out from there you crawl back to the path, and then hurry down as quick as you can, but mind you don’t tumble in your haste.”
“That settles it,” Dave said, when he heard the news. “If he had been going to that village he would have made for it straight, and not come along under the cliffs until he was opposite to it. No; we have got to fight, that’s sartin.”
“If we were to mount that path at once, Dave, we could keep them from climbing up if there were hundreds of them.”
“That is so, lad, but we could not stay there forever, and might be took in the rear by another party. Besides, as soon as they find out that we have left—they will do that pretty soon—they will be straight after us. No, we have been talking it over while you have been away, and we have agreed that we must hold the Canyon until it gets dark, and then make off. No doubt they know of this path, but they won’t think as we have found it out, and they will fancy that they have got us sure. Like enough, as soon as they find we are ready for them here, they will send a messenger off to some village up behind us. There is one thing, he will have a good way to go for we have seen no break in the cliffs for the last twenty miles, and maybe they go much farther; anyhow, we have got to risk it.”
“I should think,” Dick said, “that anyhow we might as well get the horses up to the top of the path, ready to push on as soon as it gets dark. They can do it easily enough in daylight, but it would be a very awkward job at night.”
“Right you are, lad, that is a capital plan. We will do it at once. We have got everything wrapped up ready. One of us will stay up there with Tom so as to guard the top of the path, in case any of the redskins should come down before we are ready to go forward. Three will be enough to hold the Canyon.”
“I will undertake the horse job,” Boston Joe said. “As you say, three is enough here. They will think they are going to take us by surprise, and as soon as they find we are ready for them they will draw off fast enough. I reckon that fellow has counted our numbers, and no redskin will try to force that pass with five Western rifles facing him.”
Just as Joe began to mount the path, leading his horse, with the others tied head to tail in a long line behind it, Tom appeared on the path high up and shouted:
“Th
irty or forty horsemen have just left the village, and are coming this way.”
“All right, Tom,” Dick shouted back. “You are not to come down. Joe is coming up with the horses.”
“We have got plenty of time yet,” Dave said, as soon as the string of horses had started on their way up; “it aint much past two o’clock yet, and it will be pretty nigh six hours afore we can make a start. There is a good fire, and we have kept down thirty pounds of flour; we shall have time to bake that into bread before we start. We shan’t have much time for baking when we are once off, you can bet your boots.”
Dick looked on with some wonder at the quiet and deliberate manner in which Dave mixed his dough.
“By the way, Dick,” the latter said, looking up, “we have divided that lot of gold we got here ourselves into five lots, and put one lot into the blankets on each of our riding horses; it is like enough that if we carry our own scalps back to the Settlements we shan’t get any of the four baggage ponies there with us. There is about twelve pound of gold in each blanket, so suppose we have to let the other ponies go, we shan’t have made a bad job out of our journey after all.”
“Have you filled the water-skins, Dave?”
“We filled the five small skins we carry ourselves, and one of the others we daren’t carry. Each of the horses has got two sacks of gold, one of them has got the water-skin, two others have got twenty pounds of flour each, which will be enough to last us with the loaf we are baking here till we get out of the Indian country; the others have got the tea and sugar. The one with the skin will be the heaviest load at first; but the water will soon go, so that makes it even. Everything else we have got to leave behind, except a kettle and this baking pan. We will take them up as we go. Now that the loaf is fairly under way, we will get ready for the redskins.”
CHAPTER XIII
The Redskin
They took their post behind some rocks in front of them. The bottom was composed of sand and gravel, the only rock being that behind which Dick had crouched, close to the entrance.
“Mind, we mustn’t all fire at once,” Dave said; “one must always be loading, and we will take it in turns to fire. Of course, if they make a rush we must take to our six-shooters; but they aint likely to do that. I will fire first, Zeke, you follow me; I reckon they aint likely to miss either of us.”