The Silver Canyon

by Fenn, George Manville

  “What a fine one, Joses!” said Bart, gazing curiously at the venomous beast.

  “Six foot six and a half,” said Joses, scanning the serpent. “That’s his length to an ’alf inch.”

  “Is it? Well, come along; we are wasting time, but do you think rattlesnakes are as dangerous as people say?”

  “Dangerous! I should think they are,” replied Joses, as he shouldered his rifle; and they tramped rapidly on to make up for the minutes lost in killing the reptile. “You’d say so, too, if you was ever bit by one. I was once.”

  “You were?”

  “I just was, my lad, through a hole in my leggings; and I never could understand how it was that that long, thin, twining, scaly beggar should have enough brains in her little flat head to know that it was the surest place to touch me right through that hole.”

  “It was strange,” said Bart. “How was it?”

  “Well, that’s what I never could quite tell, Master Bart, for that bite, and what came after, seemed to make me quite silly like, and as if it took all the memory out of me. All I can recollect about it is that I was with—let me see! who was it? Ah! I remember now: our Sam; and we’d sat down one hot day on the side of a bit of a hill, just to rest and have one smoke. Then we got up to go, and, though we ought to have been aware of it, we warn’t, there was plenty of snakes about I was just saying to Sam, as we saw one gliding away, that I didn’t believe as they could sting as people said they could, when I suppose I kicked again’ one as was lying asleep, and before I knew it a’most there was a sharp grab, and a pinch at my leg, with a kind of pricking feeling; and as I gave a sort of a jump, I see a long bit of snake just going into a hole under some stones, and he gave a rattle as he went.

  “‘Did he bite you?’ says Sam.

  “‘Oh, just a bit of a pinch,’ I says. ‘Not much. It won’t hurt me.’

  “‘You’re such a tough un,’ says Sam, by way of pleasing me, and being a bit pleased, I very stupidly said,—‘yes, I am, old fellow, regular tough un,’ and we tramped on, for I’d made up my mind that I wouldn’t take no more notice of it than I would of the sting of a fly.”

  “Keep a good look-out all round, Joses,” said Bart, interrupting him.

  “That’s what I am doing, Master Bart, with both eyes at once. I won’t let nothing slip.”

  In fact, as they walked on, Joses’ eyes were eagerly watching on either side, nothing escaping his keen sight; for frontier life had made him, like the savages, always expecting danger at every turn.

  “Well, as I was a saying,” he continued, “the bite bothered me, but I wasn’t going to let Sam see that I minded the least bit in the world, but all at once it seemed to me as if I was full of little strings that ran from all over my body down into one leg, and that something had hold of one end of ’em, and kept giving ’em little pulls and jerks. Then I looked at Sam to see if he’d touched me, and his head seemed to have swelled ’bout twice as big as it ought to be, and his eyes looked wild and strange.

  “‘What’s matter, mate?’ I says to him, and there was such a ding in my ears that when I spoke to him, Master Bart, my voice seemed to come from somewhere else very far off, and to sound just like a whisper.

  “‘What’s the matter with you?’ he says, and taking hold of me, he gave me a shake. ‘Here, come on,’ he says. ‘You must run.’

  “And then he tried to make me run, and I s’pose I did part of the time, but everything kept getting thick and cloudy, and I didn’t know a bit where I was going nor what was the matter till, all at once like, I was lying down somewhere, and the master was pouring something down my throat. Then I felt him seeming to scratch my leg as if he was trying to make it bleed, and then I didn’t know any more about it till I found I was being walked up and down, and every now and then some one give me a drink of water as I thought, till the master told me afterwards that it was whisky. Then I went to sleep and dropped down, and they picked me up and made me walk again, and then I was asleep once more, and that’s all. Ah, they bite fine and sharp, Master Bart, and I don’t want any more of it, and so I tell you.”

  By this time they had pretty well reached the summit of the rocky hill they had been climbing, and obeying a sign from his companion, Bart followed his example, dropping down and crawling forward.

  “I ’spect we shall find we look right over the flat from here,” whispered Joses, sinking his voice for no apparent reason, save the caution engendered by years of risky life with neighbours at hand always ready to shed blood.

  “And we should be easily seen from a distance, I suppose?” responded Bart.

  “That’s so, Master Bart. The Injun can see four times as far as we can, they say, though I don’t quite believe it.”

  “It must be a clever Indian who could see farther than you can, Joses,” said Bart quietly.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” said the other, with a quiet chuckle; “I can see pretty far when it’s clear. Look out.”

  Bart started aside, for he had disturbed another rattlesnake, which glided slowly away as if resenting the intrusion, and hesitating as to whether it should attack.

  “You mustn’t creep about here with your eyes shut,” said Joses quietly. “It isn’t safe, my lad,—not safe at all. Now you rest there behind that stone. We’re close up to the top. Let me go the rest of the way, and see how things are down below.”

  Bart obeyed on the instant, and lay resting his chin upon his arms, watching Joses as he crept up the rest of the slope to where a few rough stones lay about on the summit of the hill, amongst which he glided and then disappeared.

  Bart then turned his gaze backward, to look down into the Horse-shoe Valley he had quitted, thinking of his breakfast, and how glad he should be to return with the news that all was well, so that a fire might be lighted and a pleasant, refreshing meal be prepared. But the curve of the hill shut the waggon and those with it from view, so that he glanced round him to see what there was worthy of notice.

  This was soon done. Masses of stone, with a few grey-looking plants growing amidst the arid cracks, a little scattered dry grass in patches, and a few bushy-looking shrubs of a dull sagey green; that was all. There were plenty of stones near, one of which looked like a safe shelter for serpent or lizard; and some horny-looking beetles were busily crawling about. Above all the blue sky, with the sun now well over the horizon, but not visible from where Bart lay, and having exhausted all the things worthy of notice, he was beginning to wonder how long Joses would be, when there was a sharp sound close at hand, as if a stone had fallen among some more. Then there was another, and this was followed by a low chirping noise like that of a grasshopper.

  Bart responded to this with a very bad imitation of the sound, and, crawling from his shelter, he followed the course taken by his companion as exactly as he could, trying to track him by the dislodged stones and marks made on the few patches of grass where he had passed through. But, with a shrug of the shoulders, Bart was obliged to own that his powers of following a trail were very small. Not that they were wanted here, for at the end of five minutes he could make out the long bony body of Joses lying beside one of the smaller masses of stone that jagged the summit of the hill.

  Joses was looking in his direction, and just raising one hand slightly, signed to him to come near.

  There seemed to be no reason why Bart should not jump up and run to his side, but he was learning caution in a very arduous school, and carefully trailing his rifle, he crept the rest of the way to where the great stones lay; and as soon as he was beside his companion, he found, as he expected, that from this point the eye could range for miles and miles over widespreading plains; and so clear and bright was the morning air that objects of quite a small nature were visible miles away.

  “Well!” said Joses gruffly, for he had volunteered no information, “see anything?”

  “No,” said Bart, gazing watchfully round; “no, I can see nothing. Can you?”

  “I can see you; that’s enough for
me,” was the reply. “I’m not going to tell when you ought to be able to see for yourself.”

  “But I can see nothing,” said Bart, gazing eagerly in every direction. “Tell me what you have made out.”

  “Why should I tell you, when there’s a chance of giving you a lesson in craft, my lad,—in craft.”

  “But really there seems to be nothing, Joses.”

  “And he calls his—eyes,” growled the frontier man. “Why, I could polish up a couple o’ pebbles out of the nearest river and make ’em see as well as you do, Master Bart.”

  “Nonsense!” cried the latter. “I’m straining hard over the plain. Which way am I to look?”

  “Ah, I’m not going to tell you.”

  “But we are losing time,” cried Bart. “Is there any danger?”

  “Yes, lots.”

  “Where?”

  “Everywhere.”

  “But can you see immediate danger?” cried Bart impatiently.

  “Yes; see it as plain as plain.”

  “But where? No; don’t tell me. I see it,” cried Bart excitedly.

  “Not you, young master! where?”

  “Right away off from your right shoulder, like a little train of ants crawling over a brown path. I can see: there are men and horses. Is it a waggon-train? No, I am sure now. Miles away. They are Indians.”

  “Ha, ha, ha!” laughed Joses. “That’s better. That’s a good lesson before breakfast, and without a spy-glass. I shall make a man of you yet, Master Bart.”

  “Which way are they going?”

  “Nay, I shan’t tell you, my lad. That’s for you to find out.”

  “Well, I will directly,” said Bart, shading his eyes. “Where are we now? Oh, I see. Now I know. No; I don’t, they move so slowly. Yes, I can see. They are going towards the north, Joses.”

  “Nor’-west, my lad,” said the frontier man; “but that was a pretty good hit you made. Now what was the good of my telling you all that, and letting you be a baby when I want to see you a man.”

  “We’ve lost ever so much time, Joses.”

  “Nay, we have not, my lad; we’ve gained time, and your eyes have had such a eddication this morning as can’t be beat.”

  “Well, let’s get back now. I suppose we may get up and walk.”

  “Walk! what, do you want to have the Injuns back on us?”

  “They could not see us here.”

  “Not see us! Do you suppose they’re not sharper than that. Nay, my lad, when the Injuns come down upon us let’s have it by accident. Don’t let’s bring ’em down upon us because we have been foolish.”

  Bart could not help thinking that there was an excess of care upon his companion’s side, and said so.

  “When you know the Injuns as well as I do, my lad, you won’t think it possible to be too particular. But look here—you can see the Injuns out there, can’t you?”

  “Yes, but they look like ants or flies.”

  “I don’t care what they look like. I only say you can see them, can’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you know Injuns’ eyes and ears are sharper than ours?”

  “Not than yours.”

  “Well, I know that they are sharper than yours, Master Bart,” said Joses, with a chuckle; “and now look here—if you can see them out there against the dry brown plain miles away, don’t you think they could see us stuck up against the sky here in the bright morning sunshine, all this height above the ground?”

  “Well, perhaps they could, if they were looking,” said Bart rather sulkily.

  “And they are looking this way. They always are looking this way and every way, so don’t you think they are not. Now let’s go down.”

  He set the example of how they should go down, by crawling back for some distance till he was below the ridge and beyond sight from the plain, Bart carefully following his example till he rose, when they started down the hill at as quick a trot as the rugged nature of the ground would permit, and soon after reached the waggon, which the Doctor had drawn into a position which hid it from the view of any one coming up from the entrance of the valley, and also placed it where, in time of peril, they might hold their own by means of their rifles, and keep an enemy at bay even if they did not beat him off.

  * * *

  Chapter Five.

  “Surrounded by Indians.”

  A good breakfast and a few hours’ rest seemed to put a different aspect upon the face of affairs; the day was glorious, and though the region they were in was arid and wanting in water, there was plenty to interest any one travelling on an expedition of research. A good look-out was kept for Indians, but the party seemed to have gone right away, and to give them ample time to get to a greater distance, Dr Lascelles determined, if he could find a spring anywhere at hand, to stay where they were for a couple of days.

  “You see, Bart,” he said, as they hunted about amongst the craggiest part of the amphitheatre where fortune or misfortune had led them, “it does not much matter where we go, so long as it is into a region where Europeans have not penetrated before. Many of these hills are teeming with mineral treasures, and we must come upon some of Nature’s wasting store if we persevere.”

  “Then we might find metals here, sir?” said Bart eagerly.

  “As likely here as anywhere else. These rocks are partly quartz, and at any time we may come upon some of the stone veined with gold, or stumble upon a place where silver lies in blocks.”

  “I hope,” laughed Bart, “when we do, I may stumble right over one of the blocks and so be sure of examining it. I think I should know silver if I found it.”

  “I am not so sure,” said the Doctor. “You’ve led a life of a kind that has not made you very likely to understand minerals, but I daresay we shall both know a little more about them before we have done—that is,” he added with a sigh, “if the Indians will leave us alone.”

  “We must give them the slip, sir,” said Bart, laughing.

  “Perhaps we may, my boy; but we have another difficulty to contend with.”

  “What’s that, sir; the distance?”

  “No, Bart; I’m uneasy about the men. I’m afraid they will strike sooner or later, and insist upon going back.”

  “I’m not, sir,” replied Bart. “I will answer for Joses, and he has only to say he means to go forward, and the others then will keep by his side. Mind that snake, sir.”

  The Doctor raised his rifle to fire, but refrained, lest the report should be heard, and drawing back, the rattlesnake did the same; then they continued their journey, the Doctor examining the rocks attentively as he went on, but seeing nothing worthy of notice.

  “We must be well on our guard against these reptiles, Bart; that is the first I have seen, and they may prove numerous.”

  “They are numerous,” said Bart; and he told of the number he had seen upon the slope above them.

  “That settles me upon going forward this evening,” said the Doctor, “for water seems to be very scarce. We must try and strike the river higher up, and follow its course. We shall then have plenty of water always within reach, and find wood and trees and hiding-places.”

  “But I thought you wanted to get into a mountainous part, sir, where precious minerals would be found,” said Bart.

  “Exactly, my dear boy, and that is just the place we shall reach if we persevere, for it is up in these rocky fastnesses, where the rivers have their sources, and sometimes their beds are sprinkled with the specks and also with pieces of gold that have been washed out of the sides of the mighty hills.”

  They went on thoughtfully for a time, the Doctor giving a chip here and a chip there as he passed masses of rock, but nothing rewarded him, and their walk was so uneventful that they saw nothing more than another rattlesnake, the valley being so solitary and deserted that, with the exception of a large hawk, they did not even see a bird.

  They, however, found a tiny spring of water which trickled down among the rocks, and finally formed a l
ittle pool, ample for supplying their horses with water, and this discovery made the Doctor propose a return.

  “I don’t like leaving Maude for long,” he said.

  “Joses will watch over her, sir, as safely as you would yourself. You saved his life once he told me.”

  “He told you that!” exclaimed the Doctor.

  “Yes, sir, when the rattlesnake bit him, and I don’t think he would ever be ungrateful, though I think he feels hurt that you do not place more trust in him.”

  “Well, let him prove himself well worthy of my trust,” said the Doctor, bluntly. “I have not found him so ready as he should be in helping me with my plans.”

  Here the Doctor became very silent and reserved, and though Bart asked him several questions, and tried to get him into conversation, he hardly spoke, but seemed moody and thoughtful till they were close upon the little camp.

  This was hidden from them till they were almost there, for the upper end of the Horse-shoe Valley was extremely rugged, and their way lay in and out among heavy blocks of stone that seemed as if they had been hurled down from the mountain-side.

  When they were just about to turn into the narrow opening where the waggon lay and the horses were tethered, the Doctor stooped down to examine some fragments that lay loose about their feet, and the consequence was that Bart went on alone. He was just about to give a peculiar whistle, one used commonly by himself and the men when they wished to signal their whereabouts, when he stopped short, half hidden by the rocks, raised his rifle to his shoulder, and stood ready to fire, while his face, tanned as it was by the sun, turned of a sickly hue.

  For a moment he was about to fire. Then he felt that he must rush forward and save Maude. The next moment calmer reflection told him that such help and strength as he could command would be needed, and, slipping back out of sight, he ran to where he had left the Doctor.

  He found him sitting down examining by means of a little magnifying-glass one of the fragments of rock that he had chipped off, while his rifle lay across his knee.