United States War Department - "Infantry Drill Regulations, United States Army, 1911"

Unknown - "The Defenders of Democracy"

Victor Hugo - "Actes et Paroles, vol. 3"

Frank R. Stockton - "A Jolly Fellowship"

Annual Bibliography of Commonwealth Literature 2007
This paper argues that discourses of love in Ghanaian market literature for youth offer a view into complex negotiations of agency and empowerment. Drawing on Deborah Durham's notion of youth as "social `shifters'" and Francis Nyamnjoh's conception of the "interconnectedness" of agency, I take Ghanaian market literature as one specific case of how African literature for youth foregrounds questions of continuity and change as African societies enter into increasingly complex global relations. In this literature for youth, received notions of love, often constructed out of impressions from American pop and hip hop music, carry new notions of agency that compete with existing "domesticated" forms. Authors like Ike Tandoh and Evelyn Tay employ discourses of love to offer youth alternative avenues for empowerment in a context of socio-economic disenfranchizement. In a creative process of "straddling", this writing both reveals and reproduces the contradictions that obtain in youth configurations of agency.

The Cave of Gold

E >> Everett McNeil >> The Cave of Gold




The excitement and the confusion and the swift scattering of the crowd,
attending the search for the two scoundrels, of course ended the trial
of Thure Conroyal and Bud Randolph for the murder of John Stackpole; and
they stood free and worthy men in the sight of all people once more--and
with the skin map still in their possession.

"Great Moses! but I was glad to see you, Ham!" declared Thure, as he
gripped his big friend's hand, after some of the excitement had quieted
down.

"Glad! Glad is no name for my feelings, when I saw your great body loom
up by the side of the alcalde," and Bud gripped his other hand.

"I reckon you was some pleased tew see me," grinned back Ham, "both on
you," and the hearty grip of his big hands made both boys wince.

"Colonel, Colonel Fremont!" and Thure broke away from Ham's hand to rush
up to Fremont, who was talking with the alcalde. "I--we can never thank
you enough for coming so splendidly to our help."

"Then do not try," smiled back Fremont. "My boy," and he gripped Thure's
hand, as his face sobered, "I have not forgotten a certain night, some
three years ago, near the shores of Lake Klamath, when an Indian stood
with bow bended and arrow aimed at my breast; nor the skill and
quickness of the boy, whose bullet struck and killed the Indian before
his fingers could loose the arrow.[2] I fancy that I have not yet
discharged my full debt to that boy."

[Footnote 2: A full account of this incident, the saving of Fremont's
life by Thure, is given in the preceding book of this series, _Fighting
with Fremont_.]

"That--that was nothing," stammered Thure, his face flushing with
pleasure to think that Fremont still remembered the incident. "But
this--Think of the terrible death you helped save us from!" and Thure
shuddered.

"Yes, it was terrible," and Fremont's eyes rested kindly on the face of
the boy, "but, think no more about it now," he added quickly, as he saw
how swiftly the color had fled from his face at the thought of the
dreadful peril he had just escaped. "Come," and he turned briskly to
Ham, "I wish you, and the two boys, and the alcalde, if he will do us
the honor, to dine with me. I have an hour at my disposal before I must
leave the city; and I know of no better way of spending it than in your
company. Besides, I am hungry, and I am sure you are, also, after all
this excitement, now happily over. So, fall in," and he smiled, as he
gave the once familiar command.

The alcalde begged to be excused, on account of other matters that
demanded his immediate attention; but Ham and the two boys, with
answering-smiles on their faces, "fell in"; and, under the command of
Fremont, charged down on the City Hotel, where their generous host
entertained them lavishly on the costly viands of that expensive
hostelry, while he and Ham talked of old times, of the perils and
hardships and joys they had shared on those wonderful exploring
expeditions that had brought a world-wide fame to the then young
lieutenant, and the two delighted boys listened, until it became time
for Colonel Fremont to go.

"Our dads will never forget what you have done for us, Colonel," Thure
said, as he grasped Fremont's hand in farewell.

"I may soon put them to the test," smiled back Fremont, "by giving them
an opportunity to vote for me, when we get our state goverment
organized."

"You sure can count on all our votes," declared Thure eagerly; "that is,
as soon as Bud and I are old enough to vote."

"Thank you," laughed Fremont, and added quickly, his face sobering. "And
it is an honor to any man to receive the votes of men like your fathers
and Ham here and you two boys, even in prospect, an honor, that, believe
me, I appreciate," and the light in his forceful eyes deepened, as if he
were seeing visions of the future. "But, I must be off. Remember me to
your fathers and to all the others," and he sprang lightly on to the
back of his horse, near which he had been standing during these words,
and galloped off down the street toward the ferry.




CHAPTER XIII

EXPLANATIONS


"Wal, now," and Ham turned a puzzled and frowning face on the two boys,
the moment Colonel Fremont had vanished down the street, "what are you
tew yunks a-dewin' in Sacremento City? A-tryin' tew git yur necks
stretched, you blamed idgits? I'll be durned, if I wouldn't like tew
spank both on you!" and the frown on his face deepened. "I--"

"Oh, Ham," broke in Thure excitedly, "we've got the most wonderful story
to tell! And it all comes from that murdered miner, who, before he died,
told us about a wonderfully rich mine that he had discovered; and it was
to get the map to this mine that those two dreadful men tried to get us
hanged--"

"Whoa--up! Jest pull up y'ur hosses a bit," and Ham stared in
astonishment at the excited boy. "You're a-goin' tew fast for me tew
keep up. Come 'long back intew th' hotel, an' tell me y'ur story
straight, not in jerks an' chunks," and he led the way back into the
City Hotel, and to a quiet corner in the big waiting-room, where they
could talk undisturbed and unheard.

Here, in low but excited voices and after exacting promises of the
utmost secrecy, Thure and Bud told their wonderful story to Ham.

"Wal, I'll be tee-totally durned, if it don't sound good!" declared that
worthy, when, at last, the tale had been completed. "But thar's lots of
mighty good soundin' yarns goin' 'round camp, 'bout wonderful gold
mountains an' caves of gold. Howsomever, I never heer'd tell on
anybudy's really findin' any on 'em; an', I reckon, 'most on 'em is jest
lies. But that thar map seems tew give y'ur yarn a look like th' truth;
an', I reckon, them tew skunks must have believed th' yarn, or they
wouldn't have ben so pow'ful anxious tew git th' map. Gosh, if it should
prove true!" and Ham's eyes widened and his cheeks flushed and he drew
in a deep breath. "I'll be durned, if it should prove true, if I don't
go back tew my old home in Vermont, that I ain't seen since I was a yunk
'bout y'ur age, an' buy up th' old farm, an' build a big house on it,
an'--Gosh, a'mighty, if that yarn of y'urn ain't sot me tew dreamin'!"
and Ham came back to the earth, looking a bit foolish. "More'n likely
it's all a lie; an' thar I was a buyin' farms an' a-buildin' houses!
Queer how th' gold gits intew th' blood an' makes all humans tarnal
idgits, now ain't it?" and he shook his head wonderingly.

"But, there's the map, and the big gold nugget, and all the gold that
the murderers got from him," protested Thure. "He must have found some
kind of a mine to have got that gold; and crazy folks wouldn't draw real
maps of the gold-diggings they only imagined they had discovered."

"An' you've got that map, an' that hunk of gold with you?" and again the
eager light shone in Ham's eyes. "Wal, I reckon I'd like tew have a look
at that nugget an' map."

"But, not here," interjected Bud anxiously, as he glanced suspiciously
around the big room at a number of roughly dressed men, who were
standing in front of the bar or seated at tables playing cards. "I think
that we had better wait until we get to our dads, before we show up the
map and the nugget. We can't be too careful. Now, how comes it that you
are in Sacramento City, Ham?" and the eyes of both boys turned
inquiringly to the face of their big friend.

"Reckon you're right 'bout th' map an' nugget," admitted Ham
reluctantly. "Leastwise I don't blame you for bein' some keerful after
y'ur late experience," and his own eyes glanced sharply about the room.
"Now, as tew my bein' here, that's soon explained. Y'ur dads an' th'
rest sent me in tew git a load of camp-supplies--flour, bacon, sugar,
coffee an' sech like things tew eat, 'long with some diggin' tools an'
extra clothin'. Got in a leetle afore noon; an', heerin' thar was a
murder trial on in th' hoss-market, I hit th' trail for th' market tew
once, bein' some anxious tew see who was a-goin' tew have their necks
stretched. Wal, if I didn't 'most have tew push my heart back down my
throat with my fist, when I seed that you tew yunks was th' criminals!"

"But you made things hum, when you got started," and the eyes of Bud
glowed with admiration, as they rested on the face of his big friend.
"You just straightened things out in no time. My, but it did do me good
to see you give Brokennose that punch on the jaw!"

"Same here," grinned Ham. "But it riled me all up tew have them tew curs
git away. If ever I lay my eyes on either one on 'em ag'in," and his
eyes glinted savagely, "thar won't be no need of no rope tew hang 'em,
th' cowardly murderin' skunks!" and he banged his great fist down on the
table so hard that nearly every one in the room jumped and turned their
eyes curiously in his direction.

For a few minutes longer Ham and the two boys sat talking together, then
Ham suddenly straightened up.

"Wal, if I ain't forgettin' all 'bout them supplies in th' excitement,"
he said, hurriedly rising. "Come on, yunks, I've got tew hustle an' make
all them purchases afore night; for we've got tew git out of here afore
sun-up tew-morrer," and Ham led the way out of the hotel, to where he
had left a couple of sturdy little pack-horses tied to the trees, when
he had rushed off to see the hanging.

An open space, under the overhanging branches of a huge evergreen oak,
was now selected for the camp for the night; and hither Ham and the two
boys brought their horses, and, after unsaddling and unbridling them,
gave them a scanty supply of grass, bought at fifty cents a big hand
full, and a little barley, at a dollar a quart. Then Bud, the two boys
had drawn cuts to see who should stay, was left to watch the camp, and
Ham and Thure started out to make the needed purchases.

The shops were crowded with men buying goods to take with them to the
gold-mines, or diggings, as the mines were almost universally called,
and paying for them with gold-dust, the name given to the fine particles
of rough gold dug out of the ground, at the rate of about sixteen
dollars to the ounce of gold. On every counter stood a pair of scales,
with which to weigh the gold; and it was a curious sight to Thure to see
these men, whenever they bought anything, pull out a little bag or other
receptacle, take out a few pinches of what looked like grains of coarse
yellow sand, and drop them on the scales, until the required weight was
reached, in payment for the purchase. Ham, himself, had only gold-dust
with which to make his payments; and it made Thure feel quite like a
real miner, when he handed the little gold-bag to him and told him to
attend to the paying, while he did the selecting of the goods needed.

By sundown all the purchases were made and carried to the camp and
everything made ready for an early start in the morning.

After supper--they got their own suppers, all deciding that the food at
the hotels was too rich for their blood, or, rather, pockets--Thure and
Bud, boy-like, notwithstanding their weariness, wanted to take a little
stroll about the town; but Ham promptly and emphatically vetoed any such
a move on their part.

"I'll be durned if you dew!" he declared decisively, the instant the
subject was broached. "You'll stay right here in camp, an' crawl intew
y'ur blankets, an' git tew sleep jest as quick as th' good Lord'll let
you. You shore have had all th' excitement you need for one day; an' th'
devil only knows what trouble you'd be a-gettin' intew, if you was
allowed tew run loose, promiscus like, about th' streets of Sacermento
City at night. It's bad enough by day, as you sart'in otter know; but by
night! Not for tew yunks like you!" and Ham shook his head so decidedly
and frowningly that neither boy ventured even a word in protest against
his rather arbitrary decision.

But, although they remained in camp, Thure and Bud never forgot that
first night in Sacramento City. The scenes about them were so unique, so
weirdly and romantically beautiful, so suggestive of dramatic
possibilities, that they impressed themselves indelibly on memories new
to such sensations.

As the sun went down a gray chill fog arose from the river and the
lowlying shores and fell down over the little city like a thin wet veil,
blurring and softening and reddening the light from the innumerable
camp-fires, built under the dark shadows of overhanging trees, and the
broad glows coming from canvas houses and tents, lighted from within,
and the bright glares that poured through the doors and windows of the
more brilliantly illuminated dance-halls and gambling-hells, giving to
all a weird and dream-like aspect, fascinating, romantic, and beautiful.

Their camp was situated some distance from the center of the city's
activities; but near enough for the sounds of its wild revelries to
reach their ears, softened a little by the distance. A dozen or more
bands were playing a dozen or more different tunes from a dozen or more
different dance-halls, all near together along the levee and the
neighboring streets; and, sometimes, high above even these discordant
sounds, rose the human voice, in loud song, or boisterous shout, or
peals of rough laughter. Around some of the near-by camp-fires men had
gathered and were singing the loved home melodies; and from one of these
groups came the voice of a woman in song, sounding singularly sweet and
entrancing in the midst of all those harsher sounds. Above their heads a
gentle wind blew murmuringly and whisperingly through the wide-spreading
branches of the evergreen oak; and, at their feet, snapped and crackled
the ruddy flames of their own camp-fire.

By nine o'clock the lights of the surrounding camp-fires began to grow
dimmer, and the songs and the laughter and the talking of the groups
around them ceased. All these were seeking their beds or blankets; and
soon only the noise and the music, the songs and the shouts of the
revelers broke the stillness of the night.

For a little while, before closing their eyes in sleep, Thure and Bud
lay in their blankets listening to these distant sounds of wild revelry.

Suddenly, above the music, above the songs and the shouts and the
laughter, rang out the sharp--crack--crack--of two pistol shots,
followed by an instant's lull in the sounds; and then the music, the
songs, the shouts, and the laughter went on, louder and madder than
ever.

At the sound of the pistol shots both boys had leaped out of their
blankets and stood listening intently; but Ham had only grunted and
rolled over in his blanket.

"Ham! Ham! Did you hear that?" called Thure excitedly. "Someone must
have been shot!"

"Shut up, an' crawl back intew y'ur blankets," growled Ham. "'Tain't
none of our bus'ness, if some fool did git shot. It's probably some
drunken row. Whiskey's 'most always back of every shootin' scrap. It
beats me," and the growl deepened, "how full-growed men, with
full-growed brains, can put a drop of that stuff intew their mouths,
after they've once seen what it does tew a feller's interlect, makin' a
man intew a bloody brute or a dirty beast or a grinnin' monkey; an' yit,
th' best an' th' wisest on 'em goes right on drinkin' it. It shore gits
me! Now," and he turned his wrath again on the two boys, "git right back
intew y'ur blankets, an' shut y'ur mouths an' y'ur eyes, an' keep 'em
shut till mornin'," and once again and with a final deep rumbling growl,
he rolled over in his blanket and lay still.

Thure and Bud crawled slowly back into their blankets; and, at last,
with the sounds of the distant revelry still ringing in their ears, fell
asleep.




CHAPTER XIV

THE LUCK OF DICKSON


The next morning, a good hour before sunrise, Thure and Bud found
themselves suddenly tumbled out of their blankets and the grinning face
of Ham bending over them.

"Sleepyheads!" and, reaching down, he gripped each boy by his coat
collar, the night had been chilly and both had slept in their coats,
jerked him to his feet and shook him violently, "Wake up!" and, suddenly
letting go, he sent both boys staggering from him. "Thar, them's my
patented double-j'inted yunk-wakers," and he shook both of his big fists
in the faces of the two boys, "warranted tew wake th' soundest sleepin'
yunk that ever rolled himself up in a blanket, in seven an'
three-quarters seconds by th' watch, or money refunded. For
testimonials, see Bud Randolph and Thure Conroyal," and the grin
broadened on his face, until it threatened to engulf all his features.

"It sure does the waking all right," laughed Thure; "and you can have my
testimony to that effect any time you wish it."

For an hour all hands were busy, getting the breakfast, eating, packing
and saddling and bridling the horses; and then, just as the sun, like a
great globe of gold, rose above the gold-filled mountains of their hopes
to the east and shone down on the waters of the Sacramento, Ham gave the
word to start, and, leading one of his well-loaded pack-horses on either
side of him, he strode off, headed for the rough trail to Hangtown,
followed by Thure and Bud, driving their pack-horses before them.

As they passed along by the various camps in the outskirts of the town,
a man, holding a long-handled frying-pan over the coals of his
camp-fire, looked up and then remarked casually:

"Queer shootin' scrap that down on the levee last night!"

"Heer'd th' shootin', but that's all I heer'd," answered Ham, halting
for a moment. "What might thar be queer 'bout it?"

"Both on 'em bosum friends 'til they gits a lot of French Ike's whiskey
down 'em. Then one calls t'other a liar, an' both on 'em pulls their
guns an' shoots; an' both on 'em falls dead, th' bullets goin' through
th' heart of each one on 'em," answered the man.

"Hump! Nuthin' queer 'bout that!" grunted Ham. "That's a common thing
for whiskey tew dew. Git up!" and he continued on his way.

The trail to Hangtown, after leaving the Sacramento Valley, entered the
rough and picturesque regions of the western slopes of the Sierra Nevada
Mountains, where the traveling was slow and difficult, especially with
heavily loaded pack-horses; and, although the distance from Sacramento
City, as the crow flies, was scarcely more than forty miles, yet it was
not until near the middle of the afternoon of the third day that our
friends came in sight of the rude log cabins and tents of Hangtown. They
had climbed to the summit of a particularly rough hill and had just
rounded a huge pile of rocks, when Ham brought his pack-horses to a
sudden halt.

"Thar's Hangtown," he said, and pointed down the steep side of the hill
into what was little more than a wide ravine, where a number of rudely
built log houses and dirty-looking tents lay scattered along the sides
and the bottom of the declivity and men could be seen at work with picks
and shovels, digging up the hard stony ground, or, with gold-pans in
their hands, washing the dirt thus dug in the waters of the little creek
that flowed through the bottom of the ravine.

"Hurrah!" yelled both boys, taking off their hats and swinging them
around their heads the moment their eyes caught sight of the houses and
the tents.

"At last we are where gold is being actually dug up out of the ground!"
exclaimed Thure enthusiastically, a moment later, as he sat on the back
of his horse, watching, with glowing face and eyes, the men of the pick
and the shovel toiling below.

"It shore does have tew be dug up out of th' ground, at least th' most
on it," agreed Ham, grinning. "More diggin' than gold, th' most on us
find."

"Oh, come! Let's hurry. I want to get to dad," and Bud started off down
the hill excitedly, with Thure and Ham hurrying along behind him.

The side of the hill was seamed with small water worn gulches and strewn
with rocks and the logs of fallen trees; and the trail down to the
bottom wound and twisted and turned to avoid these obstructions, until
it seemed to the impatient boys, that, for every step downward, they had
to go a dozen steps to get around some gulch or huge rock or fallen
tree; but, at last, they reached the bottom, and were actually on the
very ground where men were digging gold out of the dirt.

"Now, where are our dads and the rest?" and Thure looked curiously and
excitedly around him at the various groups of miners hard at work with
their picks or shovels or pans or other washing machines. "I can't see
anybody in sight that looks like them--Oh, there is Dick Dickson!" and
he jumped excitedly off his horse and ran up to a miner at work near by,
who was about to wash a pan of dirt, followed by Bud.

"Hello, Dick! Didn't know you in them clothes," and Thure held out his
hand to the miner, whose only dress was a broad-brimmed hat, a red
woollen shirt, and a pair of trousers.

"Glad to see you," and the miner set down the pan of dirt and gripped
the hands of both the boys. "Had to come to the diggings with the rest,
did you? Well, it's hard work; but the gold is here!" and his eyes
sparkled.

"Are you going to wash that pan of dirt, Dick?" and the eyes of Thure
turned excitedly to the pan full of dirt that the miner had placed on
the ground at the sudden appearance of the boys.

"Yes," answered Dickson, grinning; "and it's the first pan that looks
like pay-dirt that I've taken out of my new mine over yonder alongside
of that big rock," and he pointed to a huge rock that jutted up above
the ground a couple of rods away, where the boys could see a pile of
dirt that had been thrown out of a hole dug down close to the upper side
of the rock; "and so I am just a little anxious to see how it pans out."

"Don't--don't let us keep you from washing it," and Bud's face flushed
with excitement. "We, too, would like to see how it pans out, wouldn't
we Thure?"

"You bet!" was Thure's emphatic rejoinder. "I hope we bring you good
luck, Dick. Now, let's see how you do it."

"All right. I sure need some good luck. Well, here goes," and with hands
that trembled a little with excitement, for the washing of that pan full
of dirt might mean a small fortune, he bent and picked up the gold-pan.

The creek was only a few feet away and Dickson hurried thither, followed
by the two eager boys, while Ham, a good-natured grin on his face, stood
guard over the horses.

Dickson first submerged the pan in the water and held it there until the
dirt was thoroughly soaked, while with one hand he crushed and broke the
larger lumps and stirred the mass with his fingers, until all the dirt
was dissolved, and a great deal of it had been borne away, in a thick
muddy cloud, by the current of the stream. He then tipped the pan a
little, at the same time giving it a slight whirling motion, holding it
with both his hands, which soon caused all the remaining dirt to float
away in the water, except a little coarse black gravel that covered the
bottom of the pan in a thin layer.

"Now," and Dickson straightened up, the pan in his hands, his face
flushed with excitement, for already his eyes had caught the yellow
glitter of gold, shining amongst the coarse grains of gravel, "we'll see
how hard I've struck it," and he thrust his fingers down into the wet
black gravel that covered the bottom of the pan, and moved them slowly
about in it, bending his head down close to the pan, so that his eyes
could catch every gleam of gold.

"Is there any? Is there any?" and Thure, in his anxiety to see, almost
bunted his head into the head of Dickson.

"Is there any! Whoop!" and Dickson let out a yell that nearly startled
both boys off their feet. "Is there any! Just look there! And there! And
there!" and with a trembling finger he pointed, as he spoke, to little
rough bits of gold, a little larger than pin-heads, that fairly flecked
with yellow the bottommost layer of black gravel.

[Illustration: "IS THERE ANY! JUST LOOK THERE! AND THERE! AND THERE!"]

Thure and Bud shouted with delight; and Ham and half a dozen of the
miners at work near by came up on the run, the faces of all showing the
liveliest interest.

"Whoop! I've struck it! Struck it rich, boys!" and the miner, almost
beside himself with excitement, swiftly gathered the golden bits out of
the pan and spread them out on the palm of his hand where all could see.
"A good ten ounces!" he almost shouted, as he tossed them up and down to
test their weight. "One hundred and sixty dollars! And out of the first
pan full of pay-dirt! Gee-wilikins, but won't this be good news for
Mollie!"

"You shore have struck it, Dickson," declared Ham, who, with glowing
eyes, had been examining the bits of gold on the palm of the miner's
hand. "I reckon thar's a pocketful of it where that comed from," and he
glanced toward the big rock. "That thar rock acted like a big riffle an'
stopped th' gold a-comin' down th' stream that hit ag'in it. I'm mighty
glad you've hit y'ur luck at last," and the big hand of Ham went out in
a hearty grip of the miner's calloused palm. "You shore deserve it,
Dickson."

The congratulations of all were equally hearty and apparently free from
envy; but Dickson was too eager to further test his discovery to wait
long to listen to congratulation; and, hurriedly pocketing the gold, he
grabbed up the pan and rushed back to his "mine" by the side of the big
rock.

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