Gold

by Stewart Edward White

  CHAPTER XXII

  THE STRIKE

  We awoke next morning to a bright day. The helmeted quail were calling;the bees were just beginning a sun-warmed hum among the bushes; alanguorous warmth hung in the air, and a Sunday stillness. It was asthough we awakened to a new world, untrodden by men; which was, indeed,a good deal the case.

  While we ate breakfast we discussed our plans. The first necessity, ofcourse, was to find out about gold. To that end we agreed to separatefor the day, prospecting far and wide. Bagsby kept camp, and an eye onthe horses. He displayed little interest in the gold proposition; butinsisted strongly that we should carry both our rifles and revolvers.

  It would be difficult to describe the thrill of anticipation with whichI set off up the valley. The place was so new, so untouched, soabsolutely unknown. The high ridges on either side frowned downausterely on the little meadows that smiled back quite unabashed. As Icrossed the brown dry meadow toward the river a covey of quail whirredaway before me, lit, and paced off at a great rate. Two big grouseroared from a thicket.

  The river was a beautiful, clear stream, with green wavery waterwhirling darkly in pools, or breaking white among the stones. As myshadow fell upon it, I caught a glimpse of a big trout scurrying intothe darkness beneath a boulder. Picking my way among the loose stones Iselected a likely place on the bar and struck home my pick.

  I have since repeated the sensations of that day--on a smaller scale ofcourse--in whipping untried trout waters; same early excitement andenthusiasm, same eager sustained persistence in face of failure, sameincredulous slowing down, same ultimate discouragement, disbelief anddisgust. All that day I shovelled and panned. The early morningfreshness soon dissipated. Between the high mountain walls the heatreflected. All the quail stood beneath the shade of bushes, their beakshalf open as though panting. The birds that had sung so sweetly in theearly morning had somewhere sought repose. I could occasionally catchglimpses of our horses dozing under trees. Even the chirping insectswere still. As far as I could make out I was the only living thingfoolish enough to stay abroad and awake in that suffocating heat. Thesweat dripped from me in streams; my eyes ached from the glare of thesun on the rocks and the bleached grasses. Toward the close of theafternoon I confessed sneakingly to myself that I was just a little gladI had found no gold and that I hoped the others had been equallyunfortunate. The thought of working day after day in that furnace heatwas too much for me.

  My hopes were fulfilled. All came in that night tired, hot, dirty, anddiscouraged. Not one of the eight of us had raised a sign of colour.

  "Well," said Bagsby philosophically, "that's all right. We've just gotto go higher. To-morrow we'll move upstream."

  Accordingly next day we turned at right angles to our former route andfollowed up the bed of the canon ten or twelve miles toward the distantmain ranges. It was, in general, rather hard scrabbling for the horses,though we footmen did well enough. Sometimes we crossed wide flats,resembling the one we had just left; again, where the canon narrowed, wehad actually to stumble in the rocks of the stream bed. Twice we forded,and twice we had to make great climbs up and down again in order to getby points that came boldly down to the river. It was curious to see thenature of the country change. The pines on the mountains to our rightand left seemed to push down nearer to our level; the grass turnedgreen; the stream narrowed and became swifter; the sky seemed to turnbluer; and from the ranges breathed a cool, refreshing wind.

  About four o'clock we camped. The flat was green; little clumps of cedarpushed out across it; the oaks had given place to cottonwoods; we hadnow to make acquaintance with new birds. But what particularlyinterested us was the fact that at this point the high canon walls ateither side broke into rounder hills that opened out widely, and thatfrom among them descended many ravines, barrancas, and dry washes.

  The following morning we went prospecting again. My instructions werefor the dry washes in the sides of the hills. Accordingly I scrambled upamong the boulders in the nearest V-shaped ravine. I had hardly to lookat all. Behind a large boulder lay a little cuplike depression of stonesin which evidently had stood a recently evaporated pool of water, andwhich, in consequence, was free from the usual dusty rubble. In theinterstices between the stones my eye caught a dull glitter. I fell onmy knees, dug about with the point of my bowie knife, and so unearthedsmall nuggets aggregating probably a half ounce in weight.

  Although mightily tempted to stay for more, I minded our agreement toreport promptly the first discovery, and started back to camp. Why I didnot come a header in that fearful, boulder-strewn wash I cannot tellyou. Certainly I took no care of my going, but leaped recklessly fromrock to rock like a goat. When I reached the flat, I ran, whooping likean Indian. From the river I could see Johnny and Buck Barry running,too, and had sense enough to laugh as it occurred to me they must thinkus attacked by Indians. Far down the stream I could just make outfigures I knew to be Yank and McNally. They too seemed to be coming tocamp, though I could not imagine that my shouts had carried so far.

  I burst in on Bagsby, who was smoking his pipe and leisurely washing thebreakfast dishes, with a whoop, lifted him bodily by the shoulders,whirled him around in a clumsy dance. He aimed a swipe at me with thewet dish cloth that caught me across the eyes.

  "You tarnation young grizzly b'ar!" said he.

  I wiped the water from my eyes. Johnny and Buck Barry ran up. Somehowthey did not seem to be anticipating an Indian attack after all. Johnnyran up to thump me on the back.

  "Isn't it _great_!" he cried. "Right off the reel! First pop!Bagsby, old sport, you're a wonder!" He started for Bagsby, who promptlyrushed for his long rifle.

  "I'm going to kill the first lunatic I see," he announced.

  Johnny laughed excitedly, and turned back to thump me again.

  "How did you guess what it was?" I asked.

  "Didn't. Just blundered on it."

  "What!" I yelled. "Have you struck it, too?"

  "First shovel," said Johnny. "But you don't mean----"

  I thrust my three nuggets under his eyes.

  "Say," broke in Buck Barry, "if you fellows know where the whiskey is,hide it, and hide it quick. If I see it, I'll get drunk!"

  Yank and McNally at this moment strolled from around the bushes. We allburst out on them.

  "See your fool nuggets and 'colour,' and raise you this," drawled Yank,and he hauled from his pocket the very largest chunk of virgin gold ithas ever been my good fortune to behold. It was irregular in shape,pitted and scored, shaped a good deal like an egg, and nearly its size.One pound and a tiny fraction that great nugget balanced--when we gotaround to weighing it. And then to crown the glorious day which the godswere brimming for us, came Don Gaspar and Vasquez, trailed by that longand saturnine individual, Missouri Jones. The Spaniards were outwardlycalm, but their eyes snapped. As soon as they saw us they waved theirhats.

  "Ah! also you have found the gold!" cried Don Gaspar, sensingimmediately the significance of our presence. "We, too. It is of goodcolour; there above by the bend." His eye widened as he saw what Yankheld. "_Madre de dios!_" he murmured.

  McNally, who had said and done nothing, suddenly uttered a resoundingwhoop and stood on his hands. Missouri Jones, taking aim, spat carefullyinto the centre of the fire, missing the dishpan by a calculated andaccurate inch.

  "The country is just _lousy_ with gold," he pronounced.

  Then we blew up. We hugged each other, we pounded each other's backs, weemulated McNally's wild Irish whoops, finally we joined hands and dancedaround and around the remains of the fire, kicking up our heelsabsurdly. Bagsby, a leathery grin on his face, stood off one side. Hestill held his long-barrelled rifle, which he presented at whoeverneared him.

  "I tell you, look out!" he kept saying over and over. "I'm shootin'lunatics to-day; and apparently there's plenty game to choose from."