The Cave of Gold

E >> Everett McNeil >> The Cave of Gold

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"'Ben Bolt,'" laughed Thure.

"Shore," grinned Ham. "I couldn't go tew sleep without hearin' 'Ben
Bolt,' but let us have 'Old Dan Tucker' first."

Mrs. Dickson was in splendid voice that night and sang with unusual
fervor, even for her; and the men kept begging her for "just one more
song," until, at last, with a laugh, she declared she just couldn't sing
another song, and, bidding them all good night, hurried into her tent.

The guard was again doubled that night and instructed to keep the
camp-fire blazing brightly. Hammer Jones, Frank Holt, Mr. Randolph, and
Dill Conroyal, were to keep the first watch, through the darkest hours
of the night, before the moon came up. The night was clear and the
starlight bright enough to make objects dimly visible a few rods away.
The grove where they were encamped was not large and the guards were
stationed in its outskirts, where they could patrol all around it.

Hammer Jones' post was near the horses, on the opposite side of the
grove from the lake. About twenty rods from him, out on the open valley
stood a large tree, with three or four smaller trees growing around it.
In the starlight he could see the outlines of these trees dimly. He
stationed himself in the dark shadows of a large tree, where he could
keep one eye on the horses and the camp, illuminated by the blazing
camp-fire, and the other on the surrounding valley.

For a couple of hours he neither saw nor heard a suspicious sign or
sound. Then from the little clump of trees came the hoot of an owl that
caused him to straighten up quickly and to listen intently. Ham had
spent the greater part of his life in the wilderness; and the voices of
its wild dwellers were as familiar to him as were the voices of his
fellow men; and something in the first hoot of that owl had awakened his
suspicions. It did not sound exactly right. There was a false quaver at
the end. In a minute the hoot was repeated, still with that unnatural
quaver at its end.

Along the outskirts of the grove grew a thin line of short bushes. Ham
now bent down until his form was hidden by these bushes, and began
creeping slowly and very cautiously toward the clump of trees. In this
way he was able to get some three or four rods nearer to the spot that
had awakened his suspicions. During this cautious forward movement the
hoot of the owl had been repeated three times, at intervals of about a
minute, and the same false note had been sounded each time.

"I'd bet th' last coonskin in my pack that that's no owl hootin'," Ham
muttered softly to himself, fixing his eyes intently on the dark shadows
underneath the trees.

Suddenly he fancied he saw one of the shadows move.

"By gum, I'll chance a shot!" and swiftly throwing his rifle to his
shoulder, he fired at the spot where he thought he had seen the shadow
move.

There was a faint sound, like a smothered exclamation; and then all was
still in the little grove of trees, nor could Ham's straining eyes
detect any further movements.

But his shot had aroused the camp; and now all the men, except the
guard, came running to him, their rifles in their hands, excitedly
calling to know what was the matter.

"Jest a suspicious hoot of an owl an' a movin' shader," answered Ham. "I
reckon thar was one of them durned skunks a-hidin' in that clump of
trees, a-callin' out some signal; an' I shouldn't be none s'prised if my
bullet pinked him. Leastwise I thought I heer'd a smothered cry."

"Get torches and we will see," cried Mr. Conroyal excitedly. "Maybe you
got him, Ham."

Thure and Bud hurried to the camp-fire and soon were back with blazing
pine torches in their hands.

There were no hostile Indians in that part of the country, and they knew
that Ugger and his gang could not be there yet in sufficient force to
dare venture to attack them, so they did not fear to advance on the
little clump of trees with lighted torches in their hands.

There were three small trees and the one large tree and a few low bushes
in the clump. The ground around these was as carefully searched as was
possible by the light of the torches; but not a sign of Ham's human owl
did they find.

"Must have been a real owl after all, Ham," Mr. Conroyal said, as he was
about to give up the search and to return to the camp.

But, at this moment, Thure uttered a startled exclamation and, bending
quickly, picked up something from the ground and held it up where the
light of the torches showed it plainly to all.

It was a little finger freshly severed from a left hand!

"Marked him! By gum, I marked him!" cried Ham exultingly.

"You sure did, Ham," and Mr. Conroyal bent hastily and examined the
finger carefully. "It came from the hand of a white man all right," he
declared. "And the hand of rather a small man, the left hand. Well, you
will know your man the next time you see him, Ham."

"I shore will," grinned Ham. "An', if I dew, I wants tew return him his
finger; so I'll jest take charge of that leetle bit of anatominy," and,
reaching out, he took the finger from Thure, and, carefully wrapping it
up in a piece of buckskin, thrust it into one of his pockets. "Wal, th'
excitement is all over now, boys, an' you can return tew y'ur downy
couches an' soft pillers. I reckon thar won't be no more owl hootin'
tew-night, leastwise not from that bird," and Ham chuckled.

All now returned to the camp and to their blankets; and Ham resumed his
watch in the dark shadows under the big tree.

Ham was right. There was no more owl hooting that night. But the finding
of that finger had brought uneasy thoughts to all. Evidently they had
not succeeded in throwing their cunning enemies off the trail. And now,
here they were within a few hours' march of Lot's Canyon, of the Cave of
Gold, and with the scoundrels still hot on their track! What was to be
done? How could they now hope to throw Ugger and his men off their
trail, when all their efforts so far had been in vain? Indeed, how had
Ugger and his men been able to keep on their trail, through all the maze
of mountains and forests and winding gulches and twisting ravines
through which they had been passing? That was a great mystery to all--to
all, except Pedro.

CHAPTER XXIV

IN LOT'S CANYON

The next morning, just as they were about to start on their way Mr.
Conroyal called the little company together.

"You all know what happened last night, and what it means," he said. "In
spite of all our efforts to throw them off, that Ugger gang apparently
are still on our trail. Now, Dickson says that we can make Lot's Canyon
this afternoon; but, if we do, them skunks will be sure to follow us and
to find it, too. Under such circumstances what shall we do? Shall we try
again to fool them, by not going straight to the canyon to-day and see
if we can't slip into it to-night without being seen? Or, shall we defy
them, and march straight for the canyon, without any effort to hide our
trail?"

"That last plan hits my bull's-eye," declared Ham emphatically. "If they
want tew foller, let 'em foller. If they want tew fight, we'll give 'em
all th' fight they want," and Ham's lips closed grimly. "I'm tired of
tryin' tew dodge th' dirty sneakin' murderin' pack of cowards any
longer. I gives my vote for marchin' as straight tew Lot's Canyon as th'
good Lord an' Dickson can take us."

"Bully for Ham!" shouted Bud enthusiastically. "I vote with Ham," and he
sprang to Ham's side.

"So do I," and Thure followed him.

"Me, too," and, with a laugh, Mrs. Dickson took her stand by the side of
the boys.

And, with a cheer, all the others joined her.

"Reckon that means, straight for Lot's Canyon. Lead on," and Mr.
Conroyal turned to Dickson.

Until about noon the trail wound around great hills of rocks, and in and
out of deep gulches and rocky defiles, and over high ridges of rock; and
then, just as the sun was nearing the meridian, it entered a broad
mountain-enclosed valley, some six or seven miles long by about two
miles wide. Near the upper end of the valley a tall pinnacle of rocks
shot up into the sky, like a church steeple, at the head of what looked
like an almost precipitous mass of rocks that rose many hundreds of feet
above the level of the valley.

"See that rock?" and Dickson pointed triumphantly to the steeple-like
rock at the head of the valley.

"Shore, not bein' blind," Ham answered. "What might it be doin' thar?"
and he grinned.

"That rock," and Dickson paused to glance around the circle of faces
that now surrounded him, "stands within half a mile of the Devil's
Slide, which is the only way down into Lot's Canyon. Boys, we should be
in Lot's Canyon in two hours!"

"Hurrah!" yelled Thure.

"Hurrah!" echoed Bud.

"Come on," cried Mr. Conroyal. "The sooner we get there the better.
Pedro, see if you can't liven up them pack-horses a little."

"Si, si, senor," and Pedro began hurling volleys of Mexican oaths at the
pack-horses and running from one to another of them, striking with his
whip and urging with his voice, until the patient animals were moving as
fast as the safety of their packs would permit.

Pedro appeared to be in unusually good spirits that day. All the gloom
of the day before had vanished with the dawning of the morning of the
night of the hooting owl.

In an hour and a half, so eagerly did they press forward, our little
company had passed the steeple-like pinnacle of rocks; and in another
fifteen minutes they had climbed to the top of a ridge of rocks, and
were looking down a steep, narrow declivity, cut by the wonderous hand
of nature, in a precipitous wall of solid rock that rose from the bottom
of a canyon five hundred feet below them. The smooth floor of the
declivity was not over a dozen feet wide and shot downward at an angle
of about forty-five degrees.

"Gosh! I don't wonder Stackpole called that Th' Devil's Slide," and
Ham's eyes stared down the steep slope of the declivity. "Ain't thar no
other way of gettin' down thar intew that thar canyon?" and he turned to
Dickson.

"Not that I know of," Dickson answered. "That was the way Stackpole and
I went. It is not as difficult as it looks. The rock is not slippery,
and, by being careful, a man can get down all right. But the horses! I
don't know about them," and he glanced a little dubiously toward the six
horses.

"We'll have to use ropes on them," declared Mr. Conroyal. "Two men to a
horse. Get out the ropes."

In a few minutes five strong ropes had been secured from the packs, and
preparations were immediately begun for helping the horses down the
slide.

There were ten men in the company, including Pedro, and this enabled
them to start all the pack-horses at the same time down the declivity.
The method of procedure was simple. The middle of a strong rope some
thirty feet long was placed under the neck of a horse and across the
breast and fastened there, so that it could not slip down. Then two men
took hold of the rope, one at each end, and, by walking a little behind
and on opposite sides of the horse, they were in position to hold back
the animal, should he start to slide or get to going too fast. In this
way and with very little trouble, for the footing down the declivity was
much better than they expected it would be, they soon had the six horses
safely down the Devil's Slide.

All now stood at the bottom of a deep canyon, with walls of nearly
perpendicular rock rising on both sides from five hundred to a thousand
feet above their heads. The bottom was strewn with rocks of all shapes
and sizes, and little clumps of trees and bushes grew here and there.

"This," and Dickson glanced a bit dramatically around him, "is Lot's
Canyon. The white pillar of rock, called Lot's Wife on the map, is about
a couple of miles farther up the canyon, and near it stands the Big
Tree, and close by that tree, according to the map, should be the hidden
entrance to Crooked Arm Gulch. And it must be well-hidden too; for, when
I was with Stackpole, we couldn't find a sign of a gulch near the Big
Tree, although I remember we looked especially sharp for it right there,
because the Indian had told Stackpole that it was near a big tree and
that was the biggest tree we could find in the canyon. I hope we have
better luck."

"Let us hurry and get to the Big Tree," cried Thure impatiently. "I am
sure that, if there is any entrance to any gulch there, some of us can
find it. Come on," and the excited boy, with Bud by his side, started up
the canyon.

Rex and Dill and Mr. Dickson at once joined the two boys, and the five
hurried eagerly forward, leaving the others to come on more slowly with
Pedro and the horses.

The canyon was from one hundred to two hundred feet wide at the bottom,
and twisted and wound along between its gigantic walls of rock, like a
huge serpent. Doubtless in some far distant age it had been the course
of a mighty river; but now not a drop of water flowed along its rocky
bottom and evidently had not for hundreds of years.

"Looks like a mighty good place for grizzlies," commented Rex, as they
hurried along over the rough rocks of the bottom.

"And there has been one here not many minutes ago," supplemented Dill,
pointing to the bark of a tree that had been freshly torn by the sharp
claws of some powerful animal.

"And there he is!" cried Thure, as they made a sudden turn around a huge
point of rocks, projecting a few feet out into the canyon, and came face
to face with a huge male grizzly not a hundred feet away.

The grizzly appeared to be very greatly astonished at this sudden
invasion of man into his hitherto undisputed realm of rocks, and a
little offended. With a deep bass-drum-like "huff, huff," he reared his
huge body up on his hind legs, and, turning his wicked little eyes on
them, uttered a deep warning growl, as much as to say: "Now, if you men
will turn right around and go back, I will not harm you."

"Shall we shoot?" asked Thure, cocking his rifle.

"No, not if the brute will get out of our way," answered Rex. "We have
no time to fool with grizzlies," and, cocking his own rifle, he started
straight toward the grizzly.

The growl of the bear deepened, and he made no sign of giving way to the
intruders.

"All right, old man," and Rex stopped and threw his rifle to his
shoulder. "Stand ready to fire, if my bullet fails to bring him down,"
he warned, as his eye glanced swiftly along the rifle barrel.

But Rex Holt was one of the best rifle shots in California, and knew
exactly where to send his bullet in order to make it instantly fatal;
and there was no need of a second shot, for almost at the instant of the
crack of his rifle, the huge beast, with a deep startled, "huff," and a
staggering leap toward them, tumbled sprawlingly to the ground, as if
all his tough muscles had been suddenly turned to hot tallow, and with a
few quiverings, the great frame lay still.

"No time to bother with him now. Let him lay there for the present. Come
on," and Rex, pausing by the side of the grizzly only long enough to
assure himself that the monster was dead, hurried on up the canyon.

For half an hour longer they struggled on over the broken rocks that
covered the bottom of the canyon; and then they came to where the canyon
made an abrupt turn, and, widening out a little, ran straight ahead for
half a mile or more.

The moment they made this turn and looked up the clear stretch of
canyon, all uttered a shout of triumph. Some two hundred yards from them
and near the east wall of the canyon grew a huge oak tree; and, perhaps
a hundred yards farther up the canyon, stood a tall pillar of white
rock.

"The Big Tree!" yelled Thure exultingly, starting on the run for the
tree.

"Lot's Wife!" shouted Bud, racing along after Thure.

Rex and Dill and Dickson hastened after the excited boys; and, in a few
minutes, all stood beneath the giant branches of the great oak.

The tree was some seventy-five feet high and nearly as broad as it was
high; and its huge trunk grew so close to the wall of the canyon that
the ends of its great limbs on that side had been pressed tight up
against the rocks.

"Well, we are here at last!" Thure's face was flushed and his eyes were
sparkling with excitement. "Now, for the hidden entrance to Crooked Arm
Gulch!" and his eyes turned eagerly to the walls of the canyon.

The wall of the canyon near the tree, so far as their eyes could judge,
was a solid mass of cracked and seamed rocks, that sprang from the
bottom of the canyon almost straight upward for five hundred or more
feet. There did not appear to be break or opening of any kind, nor did
it look as if there ever had been such an opening.

For half an hour the two boys and Rex and Dill and Mr. Dickson searched
excitedly up and down the wall of the canyon near the tree, without one
of them finding the first sign of an entrance to the hidden gulch.

"Great Moses, but this is exasperating!" complained Thure, staring
indignantly at the blank walls of rock. "To be held up like this, when
almost at the entrance to the Cave of Gold! But we have got to find it,"
and the heat of his excitement having cooled down a little, he began a
more careful and systematic search of the face of the wall of rock.

"Found it?" yelled Ham, who at this moment came round the turn in the
canyon at the head of the remainder of the company.

"No," Dickson called back. "Not a sign of an opening anywhere in sight."

"I reckon this is where our trouble begins," Ham declared a few minutes
later, when he stood near the Big Tree and searched the precipitous side
of the wall of rock vainly with his keen eyes. "It shore don't look as
if there ever had ben any gulch entrance thar."

"Let us have another look at the map," suggested Mr. Conroyal, after all
had searched the face of the wall of rock in vain for some time.
"Possibly we have overlooked some little point of guidance on it."

Thure at once procured the map and handed it to his father; and all
crowded anxiously around him, as he seated himself on a rock and spread
the map out on his knees.

"This sure must be the right place," he declared, as he glanced down at
the map and then up and down the canyon; "for here is the Big Tree and
there," and he pointed to the white pillar, "is Lot's Wife, and that
slide down there must surely have been the Devil's Slide; and, if this
is the right place, then the entrance to Crooked Arm Gulch must be right
there, according to this map," and he pointed to the wall of rock
against which the great limbs of the tree were pressing.

"Wai, it ain't thar," and Ham turned away disgustedly from the map. "Any
fool with eyes in his head can see that it ain't thar. I reckon we've
come on a wild-goose chase. Let's go intew camp an' git some grub down
us. I'm allfired hungry, an' it's tew late tew look any more tew-day,"
and he glanced toward the west wall of the canyon, up the side of which
the shadows of night were already beginning to creep. "Possibly we can
dew better in th' mornin', though it's more'n I can see how, seem' that
thar's nuthin' but th' face of a solid wall of rock tew search; an'
we've searched 'bout every inch of that that we can a'ready," and he
threw his big frame down on the ground and stared at the wall of rock
wrathfully.

And much of the same disappointment and disgust that troubled Ham was
troubling the hearts of all; for it did not seem possible that there
could be any entrance to any gulch anywhere near the Big Tree. The wall
of rock was too steep to climb, but the eye could search its entire
face, except where the limbs of the giant oak hid a few square yards of
the surface, and nowhere was there a break in the wall nor the least
sign of an opening of any sort, let alone the entrance to a gulch. This
was so plainly evident, so easily and so quickly to be seen, for the
smooth face of the wall of a canyon offers few opportunities of
concealment, that the gloom of bitter disappointment deadened the
spirits of all; and, consequently, it was a very downhearted and
discouraged company of men that now started to make ready for the night
under the overhanging branches of the Big Tree.

All the next day the search was continued, but without any results.

"Durn th' old map! Let's throw it intew th' fire an' git back tew th'
diggin's," Ham declared wrathfully, as they gathered for the night under
the Big Tree. "Stackpole shore must have been loony when he made that
map."

"Reckon you are right," agreed Mr. Conroyal. "Well, we'll have another
look at the map; and, if we can't get any new ideas from it, we will do
as you say and start back for the diggings in the morning."

"No; no! Just one more day! Let us look one more day!" pleaded Thure. "I
can't believe that Stackpole did not find that Cave of Gold. He was so
sure of it, so earnest about it--and there is the nugget and the gold he
had with him when murdered! Let us look just one more day!"

"Well, son, I am sure that we all are just as anxious to find that Cave
of Gold as you can possibly be; but, where can we look that we have not
already looked? What is the use of going over exactly the same ground
that we have already been over many times? It isn't a question of
sticking. I'd say stick as long as there was any hope. But, as Ham says,
any fool with eyes in his head can see that there is no gulch opening
here. Either Stackpole was crazy, or we've struck the wrong canyon; and,
in either case, we might just as well give up the search and get back
where we know there is gold. However, I will put the matter to a vote;
and we will do as the majority wishes. Shall we start back for the
diggings in the morning? All in favor of starting back in the morning
stand up," and Mr. Conroyal's eyes glanced over the little company
seated around him.

All arose slowly to their feet, except Thure and Bud, who looked almost
ready to cry at this untimely ending of all their romantic dreams.

"I know it is hard, hard on us all, and especially hard on you two
boys," Mr. Conroyal said, turning sympathetically to the lads. "But it
would be foolish to waste any more time here. Now, let us have a last
look at that map, before we fling the cussed thing into the fire," and
he motioned Thure to hand him the skin map. "We don't want it to fool
anybody else."

Thure slowly took the map from its place of concealment in his shirt
bosom and reluctantly handed it to his father. Then all bent their heads
over it; but there was little interest in their faces. They had examined
the map too often and too closely to hope to find anything new in it
now.

Suddenly Mrs. Dickson uttered a little exclamation and pointed with her
finger to the roughly drawn tree in the left hand corner of the map.

"I wonder if that tree, with the arrow pointing downward toward the east
point of the cross, does not mean something," she said.

"Moses!" yelled Thure, jumping to his feet excitedly. "It does! It's the
key to the whole secret! I remember now! The miner said the gulch was
blocked by great rocks, that we must climb the Big Tree to the third
limb. You remember, don't you, Bud?" and he turned excitedly to Bud.

"Yes," answered Bud, now as greatly excited as was Thure himself. "He
said, 'Climb to the third limb. Remember, climb to the third
limb--third--third--' and then he choked all up. Come! It is yet light
enough to see!" and both boys made a jump for the huge trunk of the
great oak tree and began climbing up it almost with the agility of two
squirrels.

"Gosh! Thar might be somethin' in that!" and Ham, and all the others,
jumped to their feet and followed the movements of the two boys with
deeply interested eyes.

The third limb was about twenty feet from the ground, of huge size and
thrust itself straight out to the rocky wall of the canyon, against
which its end appeared to be tightly pressed.

Along this limb Thure and Bud now scrambled, as swiftly as hands and
feet and body could propel them, Thure in the lead. The limb was
sufficiently large and strong to make this neither difficult nor
dangerous. In a few minutes they were at the face of the wall of rock.
Here Thure paused for a moment, then he was seen to rise on his feet,
push a few branches aside, and, with a yell, disappear. The next moment
he was followed by Bud.

"Wal, I'll be teetotally durned!" and Ham and the others stared blankly
at the spot where the two boys had disappeared.

For five minutes they stood staring at the spot, without speaking a
word, so intense was their interest. Then the heads of the two boys
appeared through the branches almost simultaneously; and a loud yell of
triumph broke wildly from the mouth of each.

"Found! Found!" yelled Thure.

"We've found the gulch! Crooked Arm Gulch!" cried Bud. "Come up and
see."

"Durned if I don't!" and Ham leaped for the trunk of the tree, followed
by every other man in the company, except Pedro, who, together with Mrs.
Dickson, remained below.

"Not too many on the limb at a time," cautioned Rex, who had succeeded
in reaching the third limb first. "It might break," and he began working
his way along it, closely followed by Dill.

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