“Kind of a musty smell,” said Carlos. “It’s hot, too.”
“Scooter, if we’re going down, we’ll never get out of here,” said Mary. “I don’t like it.”
“We can always go back, but we need to explore deeper. We can’t move that boulder from inside.”
I lead the group, holding out the candle to one side so I could see better, and tapped the side of the mine with the walking stick. I turned to check on the others.
A sound. I didn’t recognize the noise. I twisted forward and changed the angle of the candle. Above my head, two small eyes reflected back. The creature advanced rapidly toward me. I ducked and dropped the candle. The light went out. We were in total darkness.
“AIEEEE!” screamed Mary. It sounded like she was being murdered. “What was that?” Mary clung to 3J. “I felt something in my hair! Scooter, light the candle!”
I reached in my pocket and pulled out my flashlight. Shining the dim light about, I found the candle on the floor and relit it.
Carlos said, “Mary, I think you just met the California Leaf-nose bat. They won’t hurt you. Actually, they’re good.”
“Not to me,” said Mary. “If I had anything to say about them, I would outlaw them.”
“Actually,” said Carlos, “they’re pretty important to the environment.”
“Well, not in my environment,” said Mary. “I’ve got nyctophobia.”
“She sure knows big words. What’s that?” said 3J.
“The fear of something, or maybe the fear of‒” Carlos was interrupted.
“Hey, you guys. We have another split in the shaft.” I held the candle in front of the left opening and studied it. Then I moved right and held the candle steady. “Let’s try the right tunnel. The flame flickers more.”
The shaft became narrow but tall. Our echoing footsteps added to the eeriness. A small rodent ran over Mary’s foot. She let out another scream. “Why me? Why are these creatures picking on me?”
“Because you have rataphobia?” Carlos snickered.
I stopped. The others bumped into me. I held up the candle. “See the way the flame wavers? It’s leaning away from where air is coming in. I think we’re on the right track.”
Pressing forward, we moved slowly, each hanging on to the rope. I held the candle out in front of me and used my left hand to feel along the wall of the tunnel with the walking stick. As they eased around another bend, I stopped.
“I just got a whiff of something,” I said. “It smells like the woods or trees or something fresh. Maybe a meadow.”
“Maybe you’re right, Scooter,” said Mary. “I smell fresh air, too.”
“That means there must be an opening around here,” I said. “I’m going to blow out the candle so we have total darkness. Maybe we can see some outside light.”
“Look up there!” 3J pointed, as if the other could see in the darkness. “I see a little daylight.”
“I see it too,” said Carlos. “Actually, I see several little holes of light.”
“The question is, how do we get up there, and can we make a hole big enough to climb through,” I said.
“I don’t know. It’s pretty high,” said Carlos. “About as high as a basketball hoop.”
“Scooter, you’ve got two candles. Let’s light them both and maybe we can see what the heck to do,” said Mary.
“Good idea,” I said. I lit both candles, dripped a little wax on a stone, and stuck one candle on the floor of the mine. I held the other one.
Mary stared at the light holes, then looked at the three boys. “I’ve got a plan,” she said. “Carlos, you and 3J boost Scooter up on your shoulders. Scooter can support himself against the wall and use the walking stick to poke at the holes. Then he can see if there is any way to make those holes bigger so we can get out of here.”
It took several tries before I could balance myself on the shoulders of the other two. I used one hand to support myself against the wall and reached down with the other.
“Hand me that walking stick,” I said.
Mary passed me the stick.
Bits of dirt and rocks fell as I jabbed at the opening. But the opening did become larger.
“Ouch,” said Carlos as debris fell from above.
“I’ve got to let you down,” said 3J. “My shoulder is killing me.”
I carefully crawled down the backs of my two friends. “I think with a little more poking around, I can get the opening wide enough for me to climb out. Of course, then we have to figure out how to get the rest of you out.”
After a few minutes rest, 3J said, “Okay, I’m ready. Let’s try it again.”
Chapter 37: Up and Out
“You’re getting it,” Mary yelled to me. “Jab a little more to the left.”
With each poke, a little more daylight crept into the mineshaft.
“Okay, let me down,” I said.
I jumped down, brushed off the dirt from my clothes, and looked up. “I think I can crawl through that hole if I can get up that high. It’s got to be at least ten feet up there.”
“We need a boost. Maybe we can stack ourselves up. Me and 3J on the bottom, supporting Mary, with Scooter, who is the lightest, on Mary’s shoulders,” said Carlos. “We saw those guys at the Old West Days do it, remember?”
“We can’t do that,” said Mary. “Those guys were pros. We were lucky to get Scooter high enough to poke a hole in the ceiling.”
“She’s right, Carlos. We need to think of some other way.” I sat on a small boulder. “What would Kemo Kelly do? What would Kemo Kelly have seen that could help here?”
“Honestly, Scooter. Do I have to tell you again? Kemo Kelly is a TV show. This is for real. Now that there’s a hole up there, maybe someone will hear us if we shout.” Mary looked at the others for support.
“I don’t think there’s anyone around here for miles,” said 3J. “Carlos and I ride around these parts a lot, and never see anyone.”
“Maybe there is something around here we can use. Like a ladder, or some long timbers that may have been used in the mine.” Carlos picked up a candle and started to look for anything that might help.
“Carlos,” I said. “You’re a genius. I know where we can find something that may help us.”
“Where?” said Carlos.
"Back where we found the candles and rope and stuff. There were a couple of crates. If we drag them here, stack them on top of each other, that may be enough for us to crawl out.
“Mary, you and 3J can stay here while Carlos and I go back for the crates,” I said. “That is unless you want to visit your bat and rat friends again.”
“We’ll stay here, thank you,” Mary replied.
Scooter handed Carlos a candle and took the other one. “You guys don’t need the candles now that there is some daylight. We’ll be back as soon as we can.”
# # # # #
“These crates are a little more rickety than I thought,” I said. “I hope they can hold our weight.”
I placed one crate on end directly under the hole in the ceiling of the tunnel. With Carlos’ help, the second crate was placed on top of the first.
“Pretty wobbly,” said Mary. “I don’t think this is going to work.”
“Sure it will.” I crossed my fingers for the others to see. “Think positive.”
“How are we going to do this?” said 3J.
“If Carlos and Mary support the crates, then I can climb on 3J’s shoulders to the top of the second crate. Once I’m up, one of you hand me the walking stick.” I leaned the stick against the stacked crates.
It took several tries, but I finally stood on the top of the stacked crates, weaving slightly back and forth. “Hand me the walking stick,” I said.
Without looking down, I reached until I felt the stick in my hand. Carefully, I raised the stick over my head. I slid one end out the escape hole. Pushing the stick until the other end cleared the hole, I lifted, shoved, then heaved the heavy walking stick so that it was outs
ide the hole. I centered the stick so it crossed the middle of the hole to give me something to grab.
“Okay, here we go,” I said. “I hope I can do this.”
I bent my legs slightly, then pushed off hard. The top crate splintered and came to the ground in pieces.
I grabbed onto the walking stick and slowly pulled myself up until I was able to get my arms through the opening and crawl out.
“Yes!” I yelled. “I’m out!”
“Great,” said Mary looking at the pile of splinters on the floor of the mineshaft, “but how do we get out?”
Chapter 38: Paint Helps
“Wow, that was tough.” I laid on my stomach looking down into the mineshaft. “I didn’t think I was going to make it.”
“Yeah, but how about us?” Mary yelled up to me.
I stared down at the mineshaft below. There was no way the crates could help the others. What to do, I wondered. What would Kemo Kelly do? I lay still for a few minutes, thinking.
I shouted down the hole, “I’ve got it. Be back in about fifteen minutes.”
I took one last look down the mineshaft. I stood, studied the landscape, and began mentally tracing my route back to the mine entrance. No indication of a mine being below me, I thought. No wonder people don’t know about mine locations. I listened. There wasn’t a sound. I felt a slight breeze, and an eagle soared above in the clear blue cloudless sky. So peaceful, yet someone purposely trapped us in that mine. Why, I wondered. Someone didn’t want this investigation to continue.
I moved across the long, dry grass. I saw no trace of life except for a prairie dog running through the grass before disappearing down a hole. Was I headed in the right direction? Sense of direction—not my strongest skill. I paused to remember the turns and twists of the mine below. It was mostly right turns, I thought, so if I were doing this correctly, I should be angling to the left.
But how far? In the mine it seemed like miles, but it probably wasn’t. A sound. What was that noise? I cupped my hands around my ears. I smiled as I started to jog toward the welcome sound.
Paint neighed, as she moved her head up and down.
I untied Paint from a tree branch. As if the horses could understand, I said, “We’ll be back for you in a little while.”
I mounted my spotted horse and headed back to the mine opening.
Once there, I shouted down the hole for the rope I had found. 3J tossed the rope, but it missed the opening and fell back.
“Here, let me try,” said Mary.
Coiling the rope, she pitched the rope perfectly through the opening.
“Atta girl!” 3J enthusiastically yelled.
“Who wants to be the first one out?” Scooter asked.
“Go ahead, Carlos,” said Mary. “But there’s no way I’m going to be down here by myself, so I go next.” She turned to 3J. “So, guess who gets to be last?”
Carlos tied one end of the rope under his arms.
“Be careful as you reach the top not to get your hands between the rope and the cave,” said Mary.
I tied the other end of the rope to Paint’s saddle horn. With Paint’s help, I was able to pull Carlos, Mary, and 3J from the mine.
As we headed back to the horses, I said, “We definitely found the Old Irish Mine. Now we need to find Prospectors Canyon.”
“Are you nuts or something?” said Mary. “We were trapped, someone may be trying to kill us, and you want to look for Prospectors Canyon?”
“We’re almost there. We can’t let some goof ball scare us off. Come on. We know it’s somewhere south of the mine. There’s no better time to go than now.” I looked at my sister. She was the swing vote with this question.
“Okay, okay, which way is south?” sighed Mary. “Anyone have a compass?”
3J and Carlos shook their heads.
“I don’t have one, but I know how to tell direction,” said 3J. “Find me a small straight twig.”
3J removed the watch from his wrist and placed it flat on the ground. Carlos handed him a straight twig.
“I learned this in Scouts. First you put the twig vertically at the tip of the hour hand, like this. Then turn the watch until the shadow of the twig falls exactly along the hour hand. Due South is a line that bisects the angle between twelve and the hour hand. So that way is south,” 3J pointed.
“But what if we needed to know East or West?” asked Carlos.
“If you know one direction, you can figure out the others,” replied 3J.
“Let’s get going,” I said. “I’m anxious to find Prospectors Canyon.”
Chapter 39: Prospector Canyon
“Well, I guess this should prove if you’re bonkers or not,” Mary said as she rode along side of me.
After riding thirty minutes through rolling hills peppered with stones and rocks, flowing dry golden grass, and mangy pine trees, I stopped and asked 3J if we were headed in the right direction. There wasn’t a path or trail. Large black birds circled lazily in the clear, blue sky. The afternoon sun warmed the day.
“We’re still headed in the right direction.” 3J climbed back into his saddle.
“Do you have any idea how much farther?” asked Carlos. “3J and I have ridden in this area before and we never even heard of Prospectors Canyon.”
“Where did you get the directions?” asked 3J.
“Yeah,” chimed in Mary, taunting me. “Where did you get the directions?”
“Just trust me on this.” I looked at my watch. “It shouldn’t be too much longer.”
It had been over an hour since we found the Old Irish Mine, or what we thought was the Old Irish Mine. The horses climbed the moderate grade of a long hill. We all sat easy in our saddles, looking in the distance for our objective.
“All I see is sky, hills, trees, and rocks,” grumbled Carlos. “Scooter, do you have any idea what you’re doing?”
“I’m starving. It’s almost two o’clock and we haven’t had lunch yet,” said Mary.
“What do you guys think?” I asked, trying to be very agreeable.
“It doesn’t matter to me,” said Carlos.
“I’m with Mary on this one,” said 3J. “The horses could use a break, too.”
“Okay, maybe the top of this next hill,” I said.
“I hope Mrs. Miller packed something good to eat,” 3J laughed. “If it wouldn’t offend one of our four legged friends, I’d say I’m hungry enough to eat a horse.”
“Yes, I must admit, I’m getting a little hun—” I stopped mid-word. I pointed from the crest of the hill towards a plateau. The top was flat as a pancake, but with steep cliffs from a valley below. “Look, that has to be it. We’ve found it. You guys go ahead and eat. Paint and I are going down to Prospectors Canyon. I can’t wait to get down there.” I nudged my horse in the ribs with the heels of my shoes. “Gitty up, Paint.”
Chapter 40: Inspecting Prospector Canyon
The canyon wasn’t what I expected. On the top, the land looked as if a giant road grader had smoothed the surface. The mesa was as flat as a table top, but with a deep zigzag cut through the center. I thought it would be larger, and higher, with one huge cave to search. But the cliffs were only about thirty feet high and extended the length of a football field. No wonder this wasn’t a well know landmark, I thought.
Scattered through the jagged cliffs, a few small pines struggled for life, stretching toward the sky. A narrow canyon trail, only wide enough for a single horse drawn-wagon, separated the facing cliffs. I rode around large boulders to the far end of the canyon, where the trail forked. I could see a number of small caves and shelters carved into the cliffs. Oak trees and dry grass blew in the gentle breeze on the mesa above.
Other than the sound of Paint chomping at the grass, it was silent. No birds calling, no critters bustling about, not even Mary, Carlos, and 3J could be heard. The stillness sent shivers down my spine. How deserted it seemed and how isolated it must have been eighty-two years ago when the Faceless Bandit met up with the sheri
ff.
I shook my head. What would Kemo Kelley do now? I pulled an index card from my hip pocket, along with a pencil, and sketched Prospectors Canyon. My artwork wouldn’t win a prize, especially with my horse moving about. The mesa where my sister and friends waited overlooked the canyon, but the tall narrow cliffs hid them from my view.
I remembered that the robbery was somewhere west of Prospectors Canyon. I slid from the saddle, searched out the direct sunlight to figure out which direction was west. Leading Paint by the reins, I walked past large boulders. I stopped to sketch the massive rocks, adding them to my drawing then continued farther west.
Kemo Kelley tries to think like he’s the suspect, I remembered. ‘What would I do if I were on the run?’ Kemo would mutter, then nod his head and say to himself, ‘It’s just logical.’
I stared down the eastward path. I climbed back on my horse, sat as tall in the saddle as I could, and surveyed the area. I rode the short way, down the westward path, to the fork in the trail. The Faceless Bandit must have traveled this way, then turned into the canyon, I guessed. I turned so I could travel the same direction as I reasoned the Faceless Bandit rode.
If I were the Faceless Bandit, I imagined, and I knew the sheriff was in close pursuit, what would I do? First, I would want to be able to see the sheriff before he sees me.
Enormous boulders stood on both sides of the trail. Straight ahead and to the left was Prospectors Canyon. The boulders blocked the view of the canyon’s southern entrance. I rode slowly, passing the last large boulder. Turning north into Prospectors Canyon, I stopped. On the left, a few yards away, I found a cave entrance, easily accessible from the canyon’s curved trail.
Second, I would want the sheriff to think I was still on horseback. If I were the bandit, I would get off my horse, slap it, and have it gallop out of sight, and then hide in that cave.
I climbed off my horse, led it behind the boulders to a grassy area, and tied it to a nearby tree branch. I took the flashlight from my saddlebag and started up the incline to the cave entrance. Hopefully there’s still some life in these batteries, I thought.
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