Dave Porter in the Gold Fields

by Stratemeyer, Edward

  "Are you hurt, lad?" asked the old miner, after he had waited anxiously for several seconds for the mountain lion to reappear.

  "Not in the—the least," was our hero's panting answer. "But it—it was a close call!" and he shuddered. "Do you think he's dead?"

  "I shouldn't wonder. You hit him, didn't you?"

  "Yes, twice. But they couldn't have been very good shots, or he wouldn't have come for me again."

  "Mountain lions is mighty tough, lad. I've seen one with six bullets in him still show fight. Load up, as quick as you can. His mate may be around."

  This advice was, however, unnecessary for Dave was already recharging the empty chambers of the pistol. From his Uncle Dunston he had learned years before the advisability of keeping one's weapon ready for use at all times.

  The sound of the shots had called the others of the party to the scene, and numerous were the questions asked.

  "Wow! a mountain lion!" cried Phil. "And did you kill him, Dave?"

  "I don't know whether he is dead. Mr. Dillon and I both hit him, and he flopped around here until he slid down into that hole yonder."

  "Maybe he isn't dead yet," suggested Roger.

  "Even so, being badly wounded, he'll stick to his shelter," said Abe Blower. "Say," he went on, "thet looks like a putty good sized cave!"

  "Just what I was thinking," returned Dave. "I was going to have a look inside, when that mountain lion growled and sprang out at me."

  "We'll light some torches, and take a look at the place," suggested old Tom Dillon.

  "Oh, supposing it's an entrance to that lost mine!" cried Phil.

  "It would be great!" added the senator's son, enthusiastically.

  "I hardly think it could be thet," put in Abe Blower. "But if the cave is long enough, it might lead to one o' the shafts as was sunk fer the mine; eh, Tom?"

  "That's true," responded the old miner.

  "I've got my electric torch with me," said Roger, bringing that useful article from his pocket. "We can use that in the cave."

  "The light wouldn't be strong enough, an' steady enough," answered Abe Blower. "We'll have to have regular torches, and plenty of 'em, too. Caves like thet are often full o' holes, an' ye might step into one an' fall down to Chiny, or somewhere else," and he smiled, grimly.

  The old miners had picked up some sticks for torches on the way, thinking they might come in useful for firewood if for nothing else, and several of these were now lit and swung into a lively blaze.

  "No use of all of us goin' in there," said Abe Blower.

  "No, somebody has got to stay here an' watch the hosses," answered Tom Dillon.

  A brief discussion followed, and it was agreed that Abe Blower and Roger and Dave should go down into the opening, leaving Tom Dillon and Phil to guard the animals and the camping outfit. Possibly the shipowner's son was disappointed by this arrangement, but if so he did not show it.

  "It might not take more'n a few minutes to look into the cave," said Abe Blower. "An' then ag'in, it might take some hours. But, no matter how big the hole is, we won't be gone more'n two hours, Tom;" and so it was decided.

  As they entered the cave—for such it really proved to be—they held their torches over their heads and looked anxiously for the mountain lion.

  "I don't see anything of his majesty," said Roger, in almost a whisper, for the strange adventure had set his nerves on an edge.

  "Oh, I suppose he had life enough left to crawl quite a distance," answered Dave.

  The cave was irregular in shape, forming something of an underground split in the rocks. The flooring led steadily downward, with here and there an opening of unknown depth.

  "A good place to prospect," said Abe Blower, as he flashed his torch over the rocky walls.

  "Do you imagine there is gold in those rocks?" asked Dave.

  "Might be, lad, an' silver, too. But there might not be enough to make it pay to git it out."

  "I see the mountain lion!" cried Roger, a minute later. "There he is, in yonder corner, in his den. And look, it's his mate!"

  All gazed and not far distant beheld a scene that touched their hearts. On the rocks lay the dead lion and over him stood his mate, licking his face with her rough tongue.

  "Look out!" cried Abe Blower, and drew his horse-pistol—a companion weapon to that carried by Tom Dillon. "She'll come fer us, sure!"

  The old miner was right. Swiftly the lioness turned, and set up a savage roar that echoed and reechoed throughout the cavern. Then, in spite of the torches—for all savage beasts are afraid of fire—she prepared to fight those she felt had slain the one she loved.

  It was Abe Blower who fired first, and scarcely had the sound of the shot died away when Roger and Dave pulled trigger. Over and over whirled the lioness, and then of a sudden struck one of the wide cracks in the flooring of the cave and disappeared from view. They heard the body strike on some rocks far below; and then all became silent.

  "Oh, wasn't that awful!" gasped Roger, and felt of his forehead, where the cold perspiration had gathered.

  "I—I kind of hated to do it," answered Dave. "She was mourning over her mate!"

  "Shall we send the other body down, too?" went on the senator's son.

  "Might as well," was the quick answer, and soon the other lion was dragged to the opening and dropped down. Abe Blower looked on at the work and smiled grimly.

  "I suppose ye are sorry for thet lioness, but I ain't," he said. "They are wicked critters, I can tell ye, an' they do a whole lot o' damage."

  "I suppose they live according to their nature," replied Dave, softly. In his mind's eye he could still see the tawny lioness licking the face of her dead mate.

  On they went again. The cave was narrow here but presently broadened out. The roof was, for the most part, less than ten feet high, so the boys felt just as if they were "walking between big pie crusts," as Roger quaintly expressed it. The cave seemed to be dry, although when they stopped once more to look around, they heard the distant gurgle of a stream of water.

  "Wall, I can't see as it looks anythin' like a mine," announced Abe Blower, presently. "Nothin' like a shaft around here."

  "I wonder how long the cave is?" came from Dave. "It must end somewhere."

  "Say, wouldn't this make a good place to camp out in?" asked Roger, of the old miner.

  "Not much!" was the quick answer.

  "Why not? It would be cool in the daytime and warm at night, with a little campfire."

  "Maybe, lad. But wot if some o' these rocks should shift? They'd squash ye as flat as a flapjack!"

  "I didn't think of that."

  "I don't believe it is very safe in here," said Dave. "This cave must have been formed by that landslide, and, if so, perhaps the dirt and rocks haven't finished settling yet. I don't want any rocks to come down on my head!"

  "Nor on any of us!" added the senator's son.

  "I've got an idee thet we are a-comin' to another openin'," remarked Abe Blower, a few minutes later, after they had made a sharp turn to the right.

  "Why so?" asked Roger.

  "I kin feel some fresh air from somewhere."

  "I feel it too," returned Dave. "Doesn't it come from overhead?"

  "Mebbe, lad; although I thought it was ahead."

  "Here is that stream of water!" cried Roger, as they made another turn. "But we can't get at it," he added, somewhat disappointedly.

  "Why?"

  "It's down below the split in the rocks. Look!"

  He held up his torch so they could look down into something of a sharp-edged basin of rocks. A dozen feet below they could see the water pouring from one hole in the rocks and disappearing farther on.

  Nearly an hour had been spent in walking and crawling around the big cave. They had had several narrow escapes from pitfalls and were moving with caution.

  "Maybe we had better go back," suggested Roger.

  "I was thinkin' thet myself," answered Abe Blower. "Nothin' much in here, so far as I kin see. We
might come back later an' have another look—if we don't discover thet lost mine elsewhere," he added.

  "You are sure this is the right district?" asked Dave.

  "Oh, yes, the lost Landslide Mine can't be very far away," was the old miner's reply.

  They turned back, heading, as they thought, for the opening by which they had entered. On and on they walked, occasionally slipping and sliding where the rocks sloped. Then they came to a spot where there was a wide crevice to cross.

  "My gracious, did we jump over that when we came this way?" queried the senator's son, as all gazed at the wide opening, which was of unknown depth.

  "We certainly did not!" declared Abe Blower.

  "Then we have come the wrong way!" put in Dave, quickly.

  "It sure looks like it, lad."

  "If that's the case, we'll have to go back!" came from Roger. He looked around them and his face paled a trifle. "Oh, do you think we are lost?"

  "If we are not, we are next door to it," was Abe Blower's serious answer.

  * * *

  CHAPTER XXIV

  SEARCHING FOR THE LANDSLIDE MINE

  Lost underground!

  It was a terrible condition of affairs to contemplate, and for an instant Dave's heart almost stopped beating and something like a chill swept down his backbone. What if they should be unable to find their way out of the rocky cave?

  "We'll have to go back," said Abe Blower, in a low voice, after a pause, in which the three of the party had gazed around at the walls of the cavern and at each other. "An' we don't want to lose no time nuther," added the old miner.

  "No, for the others will be wondering what has become of us," put in Roger.

  "It ain't thet so much, lad, it's the torches—they won't last forever."

  All gazed at the lights and saw that the old miner was right. The first ones they had lit had burnt out and the remaining lot were more than half consumed.

  Without further words they turned around, in an endeavor to retrace their steps to the point where they had made a false turn. Abe Blower led the way and the boys followed, all keeping their eyes wide open, to make certain that nothing of importance might escape them.

  On and on they went, seeing one spot after another that looked familiar. They even passed the spot where Dave had thrown away the end of his first torch. The bit of wood was still smoking.

  "Here's the split in the cave, I think," said the old miner, at last.

  They had reached a spot where the cavern widened out into a large, circular opening. From this point could be seen several other openings. Evidently they had taken the wrong passageway.

  "But which is the right one?" questioned Roger. "They all look alike to me."

  "Look putty much alike to me, too," returned Abe Blower. "If only I had thought to put down a few chalk marks!" he sighed.

  Dave said nothing but went around to the various openings, examining all with care by the light of his torch.

  "I believe this is the one we came in by," he announced, a few minutes later.

  "What makes you think so?" asked his chum.

  "Do you see that curiously-shaped rock over there? Well, I remember seeing that as we came along—it reminded me of a giant's face. Now, you can't see that rock that way only from here."

  "Perhaps you are right, Dave. I must confess I am all mixed up," and Roger sighed.

  "We can try it for a little distance," said Abe Blower. "Then, if we won't see anything we remember seem' before, we can come back to this place."

  "But our torches——" began the senator's son.

  "We'll use one at a time—that will make 'em last," said Dave.

  This was considered a good suggestion, and all but one of the flaming lights were extinguished. Then they walked down the passageway as quickly as safety permitted.

  "I—I don't see anything that looks like what I saw before," said Roger, after a bit. "The rocks look all alike to me."

  "An' to me," returned the old miner, and there was something of hopelessness in his tones.

  But they kept on. Dave had the torch and was ahead, with the others close at his heels. The single torch gave but an uncertain light and cast grotesque shadows on all sides.

  "Look!" cried our hero, a little later.

  He pointed to a series of small stones resting on the floor of the cavern. They were somewhat in the form of a circle, with a large stone in the center.

  "Oh, I remember those stones!" cried Roger, joyfully.

  "So do I!" put in Abe Blower. "I reckon as how we are in the right passageway now, lads!" he continued, in a more hopeful tone.

  "I am sure we are!" came from our hero. "But we have a pretty good distance to go yet."

  "Yes, an' be careful thet ye don't go down in none o' them pesky holes," cautioned the old miner.

  Quarter of an hour later they reached the spot where they had shot the lioness. Looking ahead, they saw a torch waving in the air.

  "Hullo! hullo!" came in the voice of Phil. "Where are you?"

  "Here we are!" answered Dave and Roger.

  "You've been a long time in here," went on the shipowner's son.

  "We got lost," announced Roger.

  "And we shot the mate of that mountain lion," added Dave.

  They soon reached Phil, and then the whole party quickly made their way out of the cave. Those who had been left outside listened with interest to what Dave and the others had to relate.

  "Well, that sure must be some cave!" exclaimed Tom Dillon. "An' as Abe says, we must come back and examine it more closely some time. There may be a lot of gold an' silver in it, an' maybe other metals."

  "Perhaps radium!" cried Phil. "Say, wouldn't it be great to find a radium mine!"

  "I don't think ye'll find any o' thet new-fangled stuff here," answered Tom Dillon. "An' anyway, gold an' silver is good enough for me," and he smiled broadly.

  Nightfall found the party still among the loose rocks that overspread the mountainside where the great landslide had taken place. Looking at the forsaken and desolate region, the boys could well understand why the search for the lost mine had been given up. There was nothing to be seen that looked in the least promising. Rocks and dirt rested on all sides, and that was all.

  "We looked over the rocks and the dirt putty well, too," explained Tom Dillon. "But there wasn't nary a sight o' gold; eh, Abe?"

  "Not enough fer to buy a plug o' tobaccer with," answered the other miner.

  As one spot was no better than another apparently, they did not spend much time in looking for a place to camp. In one place was a little rough brush and here the horses were tethered. Then a tiny fire was kindled in a hollow of the rocks, and over this they prepared their supper,—a rather slim affair, considering that every one was tremendously hungry.

  "Not a seven-course dinner," said Phil, with a sickly grin.

  "Never mind," returned Dave, cheerfully. "Just wait till after we have found that lost mine and get into Yellowstone Park. I'm sure the hotels there serve the best of meals."

  "O dear! now I am here, it doesn't look so easy—I mean to locate that mine," sighed Roger.

  "What, you're not going to give up so soon, are you, lad!" cried Tom Dillon.

  "Why, we ain't begun no search yit," added Abe Blower. "Time to git kind o' tired arfter ye have been here a week or two an' nuthin' doin'."

  To this none of the boys replied. But they could not help but think what a dreary time it would be, searching among those rocks and that loose dirt day after day, if the lost mine were not brought to light.

  The day's exertions had tired all hands, and they slept soundly throughout the night, with nothing coming to disturb them. When the boys got up they found Abe Blower already at the campfire, preparing a breakfast of his favorite flapjacks and bacon. He fried his big flapjacks one at a time in a pan, and it was simply wonderful to the boys how he would throw a cake in the air and catch it in the pan bottom side up.

  "It's the knack on't," said Tom Dillon, as he sa
w the lads watching the feat performed. "I know some old miners kin keep two pans a-goin' that way, and never miss a cake."

  "I'd like to try it," said Phil.

  "Not now—we ain't got no batter to waste," replied Abe Blower, with a chuckle.

  The morning meal at an end, the hunt for traces of the lost Landslide Mine commenced in earnest. Dave and his chums had come dressed for the work, and the whole party were provided with picks, shovels, crowbars, axes, and a couple of gold-pans.

  The whole of that day was spent on the mountainside, the various members of the party separating from time to time and then coming together, to relate their various experiences. The old miners had told the boys how to search and what landmarks to look for, so that they did not seek altogether blindly.

  It was hard, hot work, for the sun poured down all the long day. And added to that, water was scarce, for the nearest spring was well down the mountainside, and even this had a bitter taste which rendered it far from palatable.

  "Well, nothing doing so far," said Roger, as they came together in the evening.

  "Never mind, we may have better luck to-morrow," returned Dave, as cheerfully as he could.

  Several days went by, including Sunday, and still they found nothing that looked like a trace of the lost Landslide Mine. They had covered a tract of rocks and dirt several hundred feet in width and all of half a mile long. The only spot they had avoided was one where some loose rocks looked to be positively dangerous.

  "We might tackle that, but we'd be taking a big risk," said Dave.

  "Right you are," said Phil. "If those rocks tumbled on us, it would be good-by to this world!"

  "But the entrance to the lost mine may be under those very rocks!" sighed Roger. "And if so, just see what we'd miss by not searching there."

  "I've got an idee fer tacklin' thet place," said Abe Blower. "It will be hard work, but putty safe—if we are careful."

  "You mean to get above the rocks and roll 'em down the mountainside, one after another?" questioned Tom Dillon.