The Cave of Gold

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THE CAVE OF GOLD

A Tale of California in '49

by

EVERETT McNEIL

Author of "Fighting with Fremont," "In Texas with Davy Crockett," "With
Kit Carson in the Rockies," Etc.

New York
E. P. Dutton & Company
681 Fifth Ave.

First Printing, January, 1911
Second Printing, August. 1919
Third Printing, June, 1926
Printed in the U.S.A.

TO THE DESCENDANTS YOUNG OR OLD OF THE HARDY FORTY-NINERS THIS STORY OF
THE EXCITING DAYS OF THE DISCOVERY OF GOLD IN CALIFORNIA IS HOPEFULLY
DEDICATED

[Illustration: "YOU LIE!" AND THE HARD FIST LANDED SQUARELY ON THE MAN'S
CHIN.]

FOREWORD

On a cold January morning of 1848, James Wilson Marshall picked up two
yellow bits of metal, about the size and the shape of split peas, from
the tail-race of the sawmill he was building on the South Fork of the
American River, some forty-five miles northeast of Sutter's Fort, now
Sacramento City. These two yellow pellets proved to be gold; and soon it
was discovered that all the region thereabouts was thickly sown with
shining particles of the same precious yellow metal. A few months later
and all the world was pouring its most adventurous spirits into the
wilderness of California.

This discovery of gold in California and the remarkable inpouring of men
that followed, meant very much to the United States. In a few months it
cleared a wilderness and built up a great state. In one step it advanced
the interests and the importance of the United States half a century in
the policies and the commerce of the Pacific. It threw wide open the
great doors of the West and invited the world to enter. It poured into
the pockets of the people and into the treasury of the United States a
vast amount of gold--alas! soon to be sorely needed to defray the
expenses of the most costly war of the ages. Indeed, when the length and
the breadth of its influence is considered, this discovery of gold in
California becomes one of the most important factors in the developing
of our nation, the great corner-stone in the upbuilding of the West;
and, as such, it deserves a much more important place in the history of
the United States than any historian has yet given to it.

In the present story an attempt has been made, not only to tell an
interesting tale, but to interest the younger generation in this
remarkable and dramatic phase of our national development, possibly the
most picturesque and dramatic period in the history of the nation: to
picture to them how these knights of the pick and the shovel lived and
worked, how they found and wrested the gold from the hard hand of
nature, and to give to them something of an idea of the hardships and
the perils they were obliged to endure while doing it.

The period was a dramatic period, crowded with unusual and startling
happenings, as far removed as possible from the quiet commonplaceness
and routine life of the average boy and girl of to-day; and the reader
is cautioned to remember this--if disposed at any time to think the
incidents narrated in the present tale too improbable or too startling
to have ever happened--that they could not happen to-day, even in
California; but they might have all happened then and there in
California.

The author is one of those who believe that the boys and the girls of
to-day should know something of the foundation stones on which the
superstructure of our national greatness rests, and how and with what
toils and perils they were laid; and, it is in the hope that the reading
of this story will interest them in this, the laying of the great
corner-stone in the upbuilding of the West, that this tale of the
Discovery of Gold in California has been written.

No nation can afford to forget its builders.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

I. El Feroz

II. Death of the Miner

III. The Skin Map

IV. At the Conroyal Rancho

V. Off for the Gold-Mines

VI. The Sign of the Two Red Thumbs

VII. Caught in the Flood

VIII. Accused of Murder

IX. The Testimony of Bill Ugger

X. The Missing Button

XI. An Unexpected Witness

XII. Hammer Jones

XIII. Explanations

XIV. The Luck of Dickson

XV. Around the Supper Table

XVI. Unexpected Company

XVII. Pockface Again

XVIII. Story of the Great Discovery

XIX. Some Exciting Moments

XX. Robbed

XXI. Pedro

XXII. The Mystery of the Tent

XXIII. On the Shore of Goose Neck Lake

XXIV. In Lot's Canyon

XXV. The Cave of Gold

XXVI. The Catastrophe

XXVII. Home

ILLUSTRATIONS

"You lie!" and the hard fist landed squarely on the man's chin

The skin map

"You can turn your horses around and ride back the way you
came"

"Is there any! just look there! and there! and there!"

Bud bent and stretched his free hand down to Marshall

"It is gold! it is gold! and enough of it to make us all
rich beyond our fondest dreams"

The Cave of Gold

CHAPTER I

EL FEROZ

"Whoa!"--"whoa!" With quick jerks on their bridle reins Thure Conroyal
and Bud Randolph pulled up their horses and listened shiveringly.

Again that same shrill whistling scream of dreadful agony and fear, that
had caused them to rein up their horses so suddenly a moment before,
came from the valley beyond the brow of the little hill up which they
had been slowly riding, and chilled the very marrow in their bones with
the terrible intensity of its fear and anguish. Then all was still.

"What--what was it?" and Thure turned a startled face to Bud. "It didn't
sound human and I never heard an animal scream like that before. What
can it be?"

"I don't know," Bud answered, his face whitening a little; "but I am
going to find out. Come on," and, swinging his rifle into position where
it would be ready for instant use, he started up the hill, his eyes
fixed in the direction whence had come those fearful screams.

"We'd better go a little slow, until we find out what it is," cautioned
Thure, as he quickly fell in by the side of Bud, his own rifle held
ready for instant use. "It might be Indian devilment of some kind. You
know dad's last letter from the mines said that the Indians were getting
ugly; and if it is hostile Indians, we want to see them first."

"You bet we do," was Bud's emphatic rejoinder, as he again pulled up his
horse. "Now, just hold Gray Cloud and I'll scout on ahead and see what's
going on down there in the valley before we show ourselves," and,
sliding swiftly from Gray Cloud's back, he tossed his bridle rein to
Thure, and, rifle in hand, started swiftly and as silently as an Indian
toward a thick clump of bushes that grew directly on the top of the
little hill.

Thure deftly caught the bridle rein; and then sat silent and motionless
on the back of his horse, his eyes on his comrade, waiting in tense
expectancy for the moment when he would reach the clump of bushes and
look down into the valley beyond and see the cause of those strange and
terrible cries that had so suddenly and so fearfully startled them.

Bud, carrying his cocked rifle at trail, his form bent so that the least
possible part of his body showed above the grass of the hillside, ran
swiftly until he had almost reached the brow of the hill and the clump
of bushes. Then, crouching closer to the ground, he crept cautiously and
slowly to the bushes and, gently working himself into their midst,
carefully parted the branches in front of his face until he had a clear
view of the little valley below. At the first sight he uttered an
exclamation of surprise and wrath and threw his rifle to his shoulder;
but, with a regretful shake of his head, he almost instantly lowered the
gun, and, turning quickly about, motioned excitedly for Thure to advance
with the horses and started on the run to meet him.

"Indians! Is it Indians?" Thure cried anxiously, the moment Bud was at
his side.

"No," panted the boy, as he leaped into his saddle. "It's _El Feroz_;
and if I've got anything to say about it, he has made his last kill.
Come on," and his eyes glinted with wrath and excitement, as he dug his
spurs into the flanks of Gray Cloud and galloped furiously up the hill.

"_El Feroz!_ Bully!" and Thure, with an exultant yell, struck the spurs
into his horse and galloped along by his side.

At the top of the hill both boys pulled up their horses and looked down
into the valley. The valley was small, not more than half a mile across,
and through its center ran a little stream of water, fringed with bushes
and small trees. On the near side of this fringe of trees and bushes and
only a short distance from where our two young friends sat on the backs
of their horses, crouched a huge grizzly bear over the body of a horse
that was still quivering in the death agony.

"The brute!" exclaimed Thure angrily, the moment his eyes had taken in
this scene of violence. "So that was the death scream of a horse we
heard! Well, I never want to hear another! But, we've got you now, you
old villain!" and his eyes swept over the little valley, free, except
for the fringe of trees and bushes, of all obstructions, exultingly. "If
we let you get away from this, we'll both deserve to be shot. Now," and
he turned to Bud, "you ride to the right and I'll go to the left and we
will have the brute between us, so that if he charges either of us, the
other can take after him and shoot or rope him."

"Good!" agreed Bud. "But, say, let's rope him first. Just shooting is
too good for _El Feroz_. Remember Manuel and Old Pedro, whom he killed,
and Jim Bevins, whom he tore nearly to pieces and crippled for life, to
say nothing of the cattle and the horses he has killed. And now that we
have him where he can't get away, I am for showing him that man is his
master, strong and ferocious as he is, before killing him. We could not
have picked out a better place for roping him, if we had been doing the
picking," and his eyes glanced over the smooth level of the little
valley. "We'll let him chase us until we get him away from the trees and
bushes along the creek, and then we'll have some fun with the big brute
with our ropes, before sending him to Kingdom Come with our bullets.
What do you say, Thure?"

"Well," grinned Thure reminiscently, "if it don't turn out better than
did our attempt to rope a grizzly when I was with Fremont, I say shoot
the grizzly first and rope him afterward. Now, it won't be no joke
roping _El Feroz_, even if everything is in our favor," and his face
sobered. "Still, I reckon, our horses can keep us at a safe distance
from his ugly claws and teeth; and it will be all right to have a try
with the ropes before we use bullets, but we've got to be careful. _El
Feroz_ is the largest and ugliest grizzly ever seen anywhere around
here, and could kill one of our horses with one blow of his huge paw.
Mexican Juan says that an Indian devil has taken possession of the big
brute and that only a silver bullet blessed by a priest can kill him;
and, in proof of his belief, he told me that he himself had shot five
lead bullets at _El Feroz_ and that he had heard the devil laugh when
the bullets struck and fell hot and flattened to the ground. Now he
always carries a silver bullet with him that he had a priest bless when
he was down to San Francisco last fall; and the next time he meets _El
Feroz_ he expects to kill him with the holy bullet. He showed me the
silver bullet," and Thure laughed. "But I'm willing to put my trust in
lead, if it hits the right spot, Indian devil or no devil. Now, look at
_El Feroz_. He doesn't seem to be worrying none over our presence.
Appears to think the filling of his greedy belly too important an
operation to be interrupted by us," and Thure's eyes turned to where the
huge grizzly was tearing with teeth and claws the carcass of the horse,
his wicked little eyes turned in their direction, but otherwise giving
them not the slightest attention. Evidently _El Feroz_ had only contempt
for the puny prowess of man.

"Well, we'll soon teach him better manners, the ugly brute! Come on,"
and Bud Randolph and Thure Conroyal both started slowly toward the
grizzly, loosening the strong ropes that hung from the pommels of their
saddles as they rode.

There was no need of haste. _El Feroz_ would not run away--not from a
good dinner like that he was now eating--for all the men in California.
For four years he had terrorized this part of California, had never once
turned his back to a man, but had seen the backs of many men turned to
him; and now the killing of the horse had aroused all the ferocity of
his savage nature, and he was ready to fight anything and everything
that threatened to rob him of his prey.

Thure Conroyal and Bud Randolph did not for a moment expect _El Feroz_
to run, when they rode toward him. They knew grizzly nature, especially
the ferocious nature of _El Feroz_, too well to dream of such a thing.
They knew he would fight; and, if they had been afoot, they would not
have dared to attack the evil monster, armed though they were with
rifles and so skilful in their use that they could cut the head off a
wild goose at a hundred yards. But, seated on the backs of their fleet
and well-trained horses and on a smooth and open field like the one
before them, they did not fear even _El Feroz_ himself. If their ropes
did not hold or their bullets kill at once, the swift legs of their
horses could be counted on to keep them out of danger, unless some
unforeseen mischance happened.

The lassoing or roping of grizzly bears was a sport often indulged in by
the native Californians, who were among the most skilful horsemen in the
world and marvelously expert with their lassos or reatas, as they called
the long rope, usually made of hide or woven horsehair, which they used
to catch their horses and cattle; and Thure Conroyal and Bud Randolph
had become as expert as any native with their reatas, and, consequently,
felt equal to the roping of even as ferocious and as huge a beast as _El
Feroz_ himself, the most dreaded grizzly in the California mountains.

Thure and Bud rode slowly toward the grizzly, one turning a little to
the left and the other to the right as he advanced, so that when they
drew near to _El Feroz_ there were some five rods of space between them.
They had fastened their rifles to the saddles in front of them, to hold
them safe and yet have them where they could be quickly seized in case
of sudden need and to give them free use of both of their hands in
throwing their ropes and in managing their horses; and now, as they
advanced toward the bear, they uncoiled their reatas and began slowly
swinging the loops around their heads in readiness for the throw, while
every faculty of their minds quickened and every muscle of their young
bodies tightened in expectation of the coming battle that might mean
death to one or both, if either blundered.

The grizzly glared furiously, first at one horseman then at the other,
and tore more savagely than ever at the flesh of the horse, until both
boys were almost upon him. Then, with a roar so savage and fearful that
both horses, well-trained as they were, jumped violently, he reared up
suddenly on his hind legs, the blood of the horse dripping from his
reddened teeth, and, growling ferociously and swaying his huge head from
side to side, he stood, for a moment, apparently trying to decide which
one of those two venturesome humans he should tear to pieces first.

"Quick! Rope him around the neck before he charges!" yelled Thure. "I'll
try to get one of his hind legs."

As Thure spoke Bud's lasso shot through the air; and the loop glided
swiftly over the great head and tightened suddenly around the hairy
neck, just at the moment the bear came to the decision to charge Thure
and sprang toward him, with the result that the sudden unexpectedness of
the jerk of Bud's rope yanked him off his feet and hurled him on his
back.

Thure instantly saw his opportunity and before the huge beast could
right himself, he had swiftly cast the loop of his rope around one of
the sprawling hind legs and drawn it tight.

"Hurrah! We've got him!" yelled Bud triumphantly, as Gray Cloud whirled
about and stood facing the grizzly, his strong body braced backward so
that he held the rope taut, as all well-broken California horses were
trained to do the moment the thrown rope caught its victim.

"Got him! You bet we've got him!" echoed Thure, as his own horse whirled
into position, with both front legs strongly braced, and drew the lasso
tight about bruin's hind leg, thus stretching him out between the ends
of the two reatas.

But they had not "got him"--not yet; for, just at that moment, all the
ferocious bulk of raging bone and muscle that had given _El Feroz_ his
name of terror, gave a tremendous heave, whirled over on its feet; and,
before either boy knew what was happening, Bud's lasso broke and about a
ton of angry bear was hurling itself toward Thure.

The unforeseen mischance had happened with a vengeance!

Bud uttered a yell of warning and horror and caught at his rifle; but,
almost before his hands could touch the gun, _El Feroz_ was upon Thure
and only a tremendous jump sideways of his brave little horse saved him
from the sweep of one of those saber-armed paws.

The grizzly bear, for an animal of his huge bulk, is astonishingly agile
and speedy, when once his fighting blood is aroused; and, if ever a
grizzly was fighting mad, that grizzly was now _El Feroz_. The instant
he saw that he had missed the horse and man, he whirled about and was
after them again; and, so swift was his turn and so sudden his charge,
that, once again, only the superior horsemanship of Thure and the
agility of the horse saved them from a sweeping blow of one of the great
paws that came so close that Thure could feel the rush of its wind
against his face.

"Out run him! Out run him!" yelled Bud excitedly. "Try to throw him with
your rope; and I'll see if I can get a bullet in him," and he suddenly
jerked up Gray Cloud, so that he could make his aim more sure, threw his
rifle to his shoulder, and fired.

The ball struck the grizzly, but did not disable him. Indeed, the wound
seemed rather to increase the terrible energy and rage with which he was
striving to reach Thure and his horse with one of those powerful paws;
and, for a dreadful moment, it appeared to Bud as if the huge beast
might even overtake the speedy horse. Then he saw that Thure was slowly
gaining, that the rope, which still clutched the hind leg of the
grizzly, was slowly tightening; and, with breathless haste, he began
reloading his rifle. He had had all the roping of _El Feroz_ he wanted;
and now his only desire was to get a bullet into the huge body, where it
would kill quickly, as speedily as possible. Suddenly, just as he was
driving the bullet down into the barrel of his rifle, he heard a wild
yell of exultation from Thure, and looked up just in time to see the
hind part of the grizzly shoot upward into the air; and the next moment
his astonished eyes saw the huge body dangling from a strong limb of an
old oak tree, that thrust itself out from the sturdy trunk some fifteen
feet above the ground, and held there by the grip of Thure's rope around
one of the hind legs.

It needed but a glance for Bud to understand how this seemingly
marvelous feat had been accomplished. The quick eyes of Thure had seen
the tree, with its sturdy limb thrust out some fifteen feet above the
ground, almost directly in the line of his flight; and, swerving a
little to one side, so as to pass close to it, and slowing up his horse
a bit, he had gathered up the slack of the rope in his hand, and, as he
passed the tree, he had thrown it so that the middle of the rope had
fallen over the top of the limb not far from the trunk; and then, of
course, the rope had jerked the bear up into the air, and Thure had
whirled his horse about, and now the well-trained animal stood, his fore
legs braced, holding the struggling grizzly up to the limb.

"Shoot, shoot him quick, before the limb or the rope breaks!" yelled
Bud, the moment his eyes had taken in the situation, and, ramming the
bullet swiftly home, he spurred Gray Cloud toward the dangling bear.

Thure at once seized his rifle; but so furious were the struggles of the
grizzly--he hung just so that his fore paws touched the ground--as he
twisted and turned and frantically pawed up the dirt, insane with rage,
that it was impossible to get accurate aim from where he sat on his
horse; and Thure jumped from his saddle and ran quickly close up to the
swinging grizzly, now struggling more furiously than ever at the near
approach of his hated enemy.

"Don't! Look out! Can't you see how the limb is bending and shaking?"
yelled Bud excitedly. "The limb or the rope might break at any moment!"
and Bud shuddered at the horror of the thought of what then might happen
and urged his horse more desperately than ever toward the scene.

And, indeed, the huge body of the grizzly, twisting and swinging at the
end of the rope, the blood flowing from the wound made by Bud's bullet,
his little red eyes glowing like coals of fire, his strong jaws snapping
and growling, and his huge paws striking furiously in the direction of
Thure, did make a sight to chill the marrow in the bones of any man.

Thure, now that he was so close to the bear that he could have touched
him with the muzzle of his rifle, realized that, in his haste, he had
done a fool-hardy thing; but he was not the kind of a lad to back down
from a position once taken, not until he had to do so, and, quickly
bringing his rifle to his shoulder, he waited until the swaying body
presented a fatal spot to his aim, pulled the trigger, and leaped
backward from the bear.

It was fortunate for Thure that he made that backward jump; for, at the
crack of his rifle, _El Feroz_ made such a tremendous lunge toward him,
that the creaking limb bent nearly double, and, with a sound like the
report of a gun, broke off close to the trunk and crashed to the ground
on top of the grizzly.

For a moment _El Feroz_ lay stunned by his wounds and fall and the crash
of the heavy limb; and then, with a roar, he struggled to his feet, just
as Bud jerked Gray Cloud to a halt not a rod away, and, instantly
throwing his rifle to his shoulder, fired. Even then the ferocious beast
plunged desperately toward his new enemy, staggering blindly, and fell
dead on the exact spot where Thure had stood.

"Jumping buffaloes, but that was a narrow escape for you, Thure!" and,
throwing himself out of his saddle, Bud rushed up to where Thure stood,
white and trembling, now that the danger was over, not ten feet from
where the bear lay dead.

"But, we've got him! Got _El Feroz_ himself!" and the blood surged back
to Thure's face. "The biggest grizzly in all California! Say, but won't
the Mexicans and the Indians think we are great hunters now? And won't
Ruth and Iola stare, when we throw down the hide of _El Feroz_ in front
of them to-night?"

No wonder Thure felt a little vainglorious over their achievement; for
there was not a hunter in all that country who would not have considered
the killing of _El Feroz_ the crowning exploit of his life, so great had
become the monster grizzly's reputation for savage ferocity and
fearlessness of man.

"Well, I reckon we won't do any more hunting to-day," Bud declared, as
he began swiftly reloading his rifle. In that country at that time no
experienced hunter ever allowed his rifle to remain unloaded a moment
longer than was necessary. "When we get the hide off that monster, it
will be time to be starting for home," and his eyes turned to the dead
grizzly. "Whew, but isn't he a whopper! I'll bet that he will weigh
nearly a ton! You are right, the girls will be surprised some, when we
throw down that hide in front of them," and his face flushed a little at
the thought of the glory that would soon be theirs. "But, come, now that
our guns are loaded, let's get busy with our knives and get this big
hide off," and, pulling out his hunting-knife from its sheath, he bent
over the huge carcass of _El Feroz_.

"I'll be with you as soon as I free Buck," and Thure, slipping the noose
of his reata off the hind leg of the dead grizzly and coiling it around
his arm, hastened to where his gallant little horse still stood; and,
after fastening the rope in its place on the pommel of the saddle, he
hurried back to where Bud was bending over the grizzly.

There was no need of tying their horses. All the rope required to hold
them fast was the rope of love they bore their young masters, and so the
two animals were left free, while the two boys busied themselves getting
the pelt off the bear.

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