Two Boy Gold Miners: or, Lost in the Mountains

"Sure. After the first scare was over, it was like being back in the old swimming hole at our creek. The water was nice and warm."

"Yes, it's quite hot to-night," observed Mr. Hurd. "I shouldn't be surprised if we got a thunder storm."

"Then we'd better rig up some sort of a shelter," advised Gabe.

This was done, a lean-to being built with branches, and their rubber blankets spread on top, and well fastened down. Jed's pack had been opened out to dry, and when the horses had been safely tethered, and the camp made as snug as possible for the night, the travelers stretched out to sleep, tired out with the day's travel.

It was hot, entirely too hot for that time of year, and it was almost stifling under the improvised shelter. Still, after vainly wishing it would cool off, Jed and Will, with their older companions, fell asleep.

Jed had a vivid dream that night. He thought he was again in the rapids, and that his horse was pulling him into a deep hole of the stream. So vivid was it that he awoke with a start, to find himself in water, while something seemed wrapped about his neck, dragging him forward.

"What's the matter?" he cried.

"Fierce storm!" replied Gabe. "Our lean-to has blown away, and it's raining cats and dogs!"

An instant later there came an intensely bright flash of lightning, and a peal of thunder that seemed to shake the ground.

CHAPTER XII

AT THE GOLD FIELDS

Confusion reigned in the camp. The storm had come up with such suddenness that no one had been aware of it. Every one had been sleeping soundly, after a hard day, and the first intimation of the outburst of the elements was when the deluge of rain came, and the lean-to was blown over.

"Somebody catch me!" cried Jed, who, wrapped up as he was, in several rubber blankets, was being blown along like a ship under sail.

Will grabbed his brother, and helped to unwrap the coverings. While he was doing this the lightning seemed to be constant, and the roar of thunder was like the firing of heavy guns.

"Whew! This is fierce!" cried Jed, when he got his breath. The horses were huddled together, trying to find some shelter from the pelting rain beneath the trees.

"Fierce?" repeated old Gabe. "How about farming now? This rain beats the one when the cow was killed."

"That's right!" exclaimed Will. "Can't we get under some shelter?"

Hardly had he spoken when, with a terrific crash, lightning struck a tree not far away. The shock stunned the travelers for a few seconds.

"We're safer in the open," said Mr. Hurd. "We'd better get out of this grove," and he moved out of the shelter of the clump of trees where the camp had been pitched.

The rain then seemed to come down harder than ever. It wet them through, and the rubber blankets, which they grabbed up from the wreck of the lean-to, afforded small protection from the pelting downpour.

"I guess you wish you were back in the snug farmhouse, don't you, boys?" called Mr. Harrison above the roar of the storm.

"I do," replied Will, frankly.

"Oh, I can stand it," answered Jed. "We may get worse than this."

"That's right, my boy," added Mr. Curtin. "This is a bad storm, but there's lots of worse things in the gold fields where you're going. Bad men are worse than bad storms."

"Right you are," murmured Gabe. "But if I'm not mistaken, this seems to be letting up a bit."

The rain did not appear to be coming down quite so hard, and there were longer pauses between the flashes of lightning. But if the storm did cease in its violence, it did not stop altogether, for it rained all night, and, though the travelers did manage to make a rude sort of shelter of the blankets, they spent several miserable hours until morning.

"Oh, for some hot coffee and crisp bacon!" exclaimed Will, as he crawled out from under his blanket, and surveyed the wet scene all about. "It wouldn't be so bad then."

"Hot coffee! Crisp bacon!" exclaimed Gabe. "Say, young man, you ought to be glad the sun is shining. There'll be no hot coffee this morning. Wood's too wet to make a fire. Cold grub for ours, until noon, when we may strike a place where we can get some dry tinder. But the sun will soon make our clothes look less as if we'd paid a visit to the washwoman. Up, everybody, and straighten out camp!"

No one cared to linger in the wet blankets, and though it was not a very cheerful company that gathered around to eat a cold breakfast, they all felt that matters might have been much worse.

The packs were soon strapped on the horses, and, mounting their steeds, the travelers set off again. On every side were evidences of the storm. The river they had crossed was swollen to twice its former size, and they were glad that they had forded it the previous evening, instead of delaying, as they would have been held up several days waiting for the flood to subside.

That noon they arrived at a settler's cabin, where they were made welcome, and glad enough they were of it, too, for they were doubtful about finding any dry wood to make a fire, and had the prospect of a cold dinner before them. The settler, who had a small sheep ranch, greeted them cordially, and set out before them the best that he had. However, hot coffee was the most desirable thing he could provide.

From this man Gabe made some inquiries as to the best road to follow, for they were now approaching the gold fields, and they wanted to know the nearest trail to Dizzy Gulch.

"It's not far now," said the old miner to his companions, after a talk with the sheep-herder. "Three days more ought to bring us there."

"Then for the golden nuggets!" exclaimed Jed. "I hope we can send some back to dad soon."

"Don't be too hopeful," cautioned Will, with his usual ability for looking on the dark side of things.

"Yes, I'm going to be hopeful," responded Jed. "Half the fun of a thing is looking forward to it, and I'm going to imagine that I'm going to pick up plenty of the yellow boys. Then, if I'm disappointed, I've had the satisfaction of some good thinking, anyhow."

"That's the right idea," declared Gabe.

They remained that night at the sheep-herder's cabin, and in the morning pressed forward again. The weather was fine after the storm, and that night they camped amid the mountains, near a trail that showed it was well traveled.

"Hark! What's that!" exclaimed Will, in the middle of the night, as he was awakened by hearing voices, and a noise of horses traveling over the rocky path, not far from where they had pitched their camp.

"Sounds like a lot of men," observed Jed.

"It is," replied Gabe, who had also been awakened by the talk of the boys. "They're miners, too," he added, after listening a moment. "They're on their way to new diggings. Boys, we're near our destination. This is where the main trail strikes in. The rush is on, and we're only just in time!"

In the morning, when they started forward, they found they were only one party among a number. The rush was indeed on, and two days later the two boys and their companions were on the edge of the gold fields of Montana, and Dizzy Gulch, of which Ted Jordan had written, was less than a hundred miles away.

CHAPTER XIII

ON A NEW TRAIL

Had the boys not been told by their companions, during their journey, of what they might expect in a new gold field, they would have been much surprised by the scenes which met their eyes on every side. They arrived at a small settlement that night. It rejoiced in the rather thrilling name of Bloody Canyon, but as one of the storekeepers there remarked, it was not half as bloody as it had been.

"For you see, strangers," he said, pushing his big, broad-brimmed hat as far back on his head as it would go, "there was a powerful lot of shooting-up around these diggings for the past few weeks. Lots of 'em was killed, and the rest lit out for new strikes, so we old settlers has it sort of peaceful now."

"How long have you been here?" asked Gabe.

"Me? Oh, nigh on to a month. I'm one of the oldest settlers. My store was one of the first started, next to the bank," and he waved his hand toward a couple of rough board structures, that showed signs of having been hastily erected.

"How about the strikes at Dizzy Gulch?" asked Mr. Hurd.

"I don't take much stock in 'em myself," replied the "oldest settler," who gave his name as Tom Judson. "Bloody Canyon is good enough for me. I've got a couple of nice claims staked out, and I've struck pay dirt."

At that moment there was the sound of several pistol shots.

"What's that?" asked Jed, looking around.

"Now take it easy! Take it easy, son," advised Mr. Judson. "That's probably only a gambler being rustled out of camp."

"Gamblers? Are there gamblers here?" asked Gabe.

"Gamblers? Well, I should swallow my grub-stake!" exclaimed the genial Mr. Judson, who seemed given to violent expressions. "We was overrun with 'em one spell. Shot two, hung one, and rid a dozen more out of camp on a rail, with a coat of tar and feathers. But they still pester us occasional like."

"Did one named Con Morton show up around here?" asked the old miner.

"Con Morton? No, I don't recollect any such high-sounding name as that. But you never can tell. They go by any name that suits their fancy, them gamblers."

"I'd like to see that Morton," murmured Gabe.

"Why for would you like to meet up with him?" asked Mr. Judson. "If you're looking for a straight gambling game I can show you one. I'm the United States marshal for these diggings, and I don't stand for no crooked work."

"No, thank you, I had enough of gambling," replied Gabe. "That Morton fellow swindled me out of a fortune, and I'd like a chance to get it back."

"Too bad, stranger," replied the marshal, "but I don't believe you have much show. Them gamblers is pretty tricky. There, I guess they must be shooting up another one," he added quickly, as more pistol shots were heard.

The disturbance, whatever it was, did not last long, and though the two boys looked about anxiously, fearing the fight might turn in their direction, they saw nothing alarming, and the mining camp soon became quiet again.

"Was you-all thinking of striking out for Dizzy Gulch?" asked Mr. Judson.

"Myself and these two boys are," replied Gabe. "I can't say what my two companions are going to do," and he looked at the miners who had traveled with them for several days.

"I think we'll strike further south," said Mr. Hurd. "I don't like the winters in Montana, and we'll soon be having cold weather. California suits me better. My partner and I will look for a place to stay. Maybe we'll see you in the morning, before you start out. If we don't, we're glad to have met you, and we've enjoyed your company very much."

"We sure have," added Mr. Curtin.

"Same here," added Gabe. "We'd like first-rate for you two to come with us, but if you feel the call the other way, don't let us stop you."

Inquiring of the marshal where was the best place to stay over night, and being directed to what passed for a hotel in the little settlement, Gabe and the boys made their way there. Mr. Curtin and Mr. Hurd met some former associates, and went off with them, so the little party was separated.

In spite of a few shooting affrays during the night, there was not much disturbance in Bloody Canyon. Mr. Judson had spoken truly when he said a large part of the population had left for other diggings, and midnight, which is usually the most exciting time in a mining settlement, was so quiet that the boys and Gabe were able to go to sleep.

"Well, it feels good to sit down to a table again," remarked Jed the next morning, when they were having breakfast in the "hotel."

"Make the most of it," said Gabe. "We'll soon be striking out on a new trail, and we'll have to camp out again."

"Don't you think it would be better to have a tent?" proposed Will.

"I certainly do, and I'm going to get one," replied Gabe. "I've got to get some other supplies, too – blasting powder, a new handle for my lucky pickaxe, and some grub. This is the cheapest place to get 'em, as prices will be high near good diggings."

Most of that day was spent in getting the tent and other supplies. It was so late when they finished that Gabe decided they would stay another night in the hotel at Bloody Canyon, and push forward in the morning.

That evening, as the three were strolling down the main and only street of the town, a couple of men, who came from a saloon, approached Gabe and the two boys.

"Excuse us, strangers," said one. "But is it true you are going prospecting up at Dizzy Gulch?"

"We calc'late on it," replied Gabe civilly, though the manner of the man was insolent.

"Well, that's a pretty good joke!" exclaimed the other stranger, laughing heartily.

"What is?" asked Gabe, for he was sensitive about being made fun of.

"Going to Dizzy Gulch? Why, you're foolish to go there. It's petered out. There was only some outcroppings, and the boys that went there had their trouble for their pains."

"I have reliable information that there have been some good strikes made at Dizzy Gulch," responded Gabe, while Jed and Will wondered what could be the object of the two men in ridiculing their plan.

"Well, you're foolish, that's all I've got to say," went on the man who had first spoken. "Ha! ha! It's a good joke. You'll be asking some one to grub-stake you next! Eh, Jim?"

"Sure thing! Dizzy Gulch didn't pan out!"

"I guess I know my own business best," responded Gabe.

"Oh, that's all right, stranger," responded one of the men quickly, for Gabe's manner was rather one of anger. "No offense, you understand, only I have to laugh when I see an old-timer making a spectacle of himself."

"It'll be time enough for you to talk when I make a clean-up, and don't get a yellow showing," went on Gabe. "Come on, boys. They may think it's a joke, but I guess Ted Jordan knew what he was writing about."

Leaving the two miners, who, with several companions, seemed to be quite amused at the idea of Gabe and the two lads going to Dizzy Gulch, the latter reached their boarding place.

As they entered the barroom, which was the only way to get into the place, they saw it was well filled with men who were standing about, drinking. Several of them were talking loudly, and the conversation ran to topics connected with cards and mines.

At the entrance of Gabe and the two lads, several of the men glanced at them.

"Hi! Here's some strangers that haven't had a drink with me!" exclaimed a man, much the worse for liquor. "Step right up, strangers, and name your poison! Set 'em up, Bill. Give my unknown friends the best in the house."

"Don't have anything to do with him," advised Gabe in a low voice.

The man, however, walked up to Jed, and, placing his hand familiarly on the lad's shoulder said:

"Come on up, youngster, and have a drink with old Ned Haverhill! I like your looks! Name your poison!"

"Thank you," said Jed, quietly, "but I don't drink."

There was a moment of silence. The boy's remark seemed to be a novelty in that place.

"What's that?" cried Haverhill, as if he had not heard aright.

"I don't drink, thank you," said Jed again.

"Not drink! What! Not when Ned Haverhill asks you! Why, dynamite and copper-heads! You've got to drink! What! Why, what do you think of that?" and he turned to the men lined up in front of the bar.

There were anxious faces in the saloon then, and several men quietly made their way to the door. For Ned Haverhill was known as one of the worst men of the West, and to annoy him, especially in his present condition, was no small matter. He looked at Jed with bloodshot eyes, but the lad quietly returned the stare. Old Gabe, with a worried look, drew nearer to the lad whom he considered under his protection.

CHAPTER XIV

THE MARSHAL INTERFERES

"Excuse me," said the loud-spoken man, as he made Jed a mocking bow, "but perhaps you did not understand me. I asked for the honor of your company in partaking of a little of the liquid refreshment which they serve in this palatial hotel," and with his big hat he swept the floor. "Once more, stranger, a tenderfoot by your looks, what will you have?"

The last words were sternly spoken, and there was a general movement, on the part of those nearest Haverhill, to get out of range of the gun which they momentarily expected him to draw.

"I understood you perfectly," replied Jed, "but I can only repeat what I said. I don't drink."

"Why – why!" spluttered Haverhill, for he considered himself insulted such was his peculiar code of "honor." "You've got to drink with me, or take the consequences!"

He reached toward his revolver, which was in plain sight in his belt. But Jed never quailed. Will, with a white face, started forward to his brother's aid, but Gabe pulled him back.

"That'll do!" exclaimed the old miner, as he took a step in advance, and stood beside Jed. "I'm with this lad, and what he says I'll back up."

"Oh, you will, eh?" asked Haverhill, with a sneer. "And who are you?"

"No tenderfoot, if that's what you mean. I was out in California in '49, when you were eating bread and milk, and you can't bluff me. Don't you draw that gun!" suddenly exclaimed the brave miner, as he saw Haverhill's hand stealing toward the revolver.

"You dare give me orders!" exclaimed the other. "Why – why – dynamite and rattlesnakes – I'll – I'll eat you alive!"

"You will, eh?" exclaimed Gabe, taking a step closer to the man. Every one expected to see some "gun-play," but, for some reason, the man who had invited Jed to drink seemed so astonished at Gabe's defiance that he did not know what to say.

"Yes, and I'll – I'll – " spluttered the man, in his rage.

"That'll do you now!" replied Gabe quietly. "If you know what's good for you, you'll get out of here."

"I will? What for, I'd like to know?"

"Because, Sam Small, alias Ned Haverhill, alias Short-card Ike, I know who you are, and if you don't leave at once I'll report you to the United States marshal. I know you well, but you fooled me at first. You were Con Morton's partner when he swindled me out of the best part of my fortune, and you can tell Con, when you see him, that I'm looking for him. Now clear out!"

"Why – why – you dare order me – " began the gambler, as if he could not believe what he heard.

"Yes, you'd better go, Ned," advised the bar-keeper in a low voice. Gabe's quiet manner, and the way he spoke, convinced the hotel keeper that the old miner had spoken the truth, and the saloon man did not want trouble with the authorities.

"I'll not go!" cried the angry man. "I'll – I'll – "

"Hold on there!" exclaimed a new voice, and every one turned to see Marshal Judson standing in the door. He was armed with a rifle, and, though he did not aim it at any one, the manner in which he looked at Haverhill, the cause of the disturbance, argued anything but peaceable intentions toward that individual.

"Clear out of here," added the marshal, "and don't you show up in these diggings again. I heard what Mr. Harrison said about you, and I believe him. Get out!" and his blue eyes blazed in a convincing manner.

"I – I was – was just goin' to," answered the man, who had been so bold a little while ago. "I'm going," and he sneaked out of the door, while several, who a few minutes before were afraid of him, laughed openly.

"Tenderfoot, you're all right!" exclaimed a man, extending his hand to Jed. "There aren't many who would refuse to drink with Haverhill."

Others also spoke of Jed's nervy stand, for, it was said, Haverhill was known to be a bad man in a quarrel, and dangerous when angered. Evidently, however, he feared the marshal.

Matters were rather quiet about the hotel the rest of the night, for the marshal remained in that vicinity In the morning Gabe and the two boys, having completed their outfits, set off on their horses in the direction of Dizzy Gulch. Several old miners tried, with the best of intentions, to dissuade Gabe from going to those diggings, saying he would only meet with failure.

"I don't care. I'm going," he said. "I'll trust Ted Jordan."

They traveled all that day, and reached a small mining camp that evening. It appeared to be a prosperous one, for there were several saloons and dance halls in full operation, and, usually, this is the surest sign of such prosperity. When the miners are digging plenty of gold they are spending it, and every one in the place seemed to have a good-sized bag of yellow dust, or else several nuggets in his pockets.

Though the boys had seen these evidences of the earth's richness at the town where they first stopped, they did not lose interest in watching the men pay for what they bought with gold dust or nuggets, instead of money.

"That's what we'll be doing soon, eh, Will?" suggested Jed.

"I hope so, but maybe we'll be fooled when we get to Dizzy Gulch. Every one seems to think there is no gold there."

"Don't let that worry you," replied Jed. "We'll get gold, I'm sure. Old Gabe knows what he is about. Don't believe what those old miners say."

"I hope you're right, but it doesn't seem so," added Will, with his usual habit of looking on the dark side of things.

The travelers found that the hotel they stopped at was somewhat better patronized than the former one, though it had been hastily constructed. There was the same quality of customers, however – miners and gamblers. After supper Gabe left the two boys alone, as he wanted to go about and make some inquiries of an old friend of his, who was somewhere about the diggings.

As Jed and Will were passing out of the hotel through the barroom, for there were no other egress, they were stopped by a flashily dressed man, who, with several others, was playing cards at a table in a corner.

"Hello, sports!" he greeted the lads. "Take a hand in the game. We're short."

"We don't gamble!" exclaimed Jed quickly. He was an outspoken lad, and never beat about the bush.

"You don't gamble? I reckon you're afraid of losing a dollar or so," sneered the man.

"No, but we don't believe in it," replied Jed, good-naturedly, and preparing to pass on.

"Hold on!" exclaimed the man. "Do you mean to insult me?"

"Not at all," answered the boy.

"But I consider you have insulted me, when you don't think I'm good enough for you to play cards with!"

"I did not say that," was Jed's reply. "I said I didn't believe in gambling or card playing. I don't consider that it's right."

"Then you think I'm doing wrong?"

"I don't think anything about you. I'm simply speaking for myself."

"Aw, you're a tenderfoot! A milksop! Why didn't you stay back East, tied to your mother's apron string? Does she know you're out? Give her my regards!"

That was too much for Jed. That any one should speak disrespectfully of his dear mother was more than he could stand. Without stopping to think of the consequences of his act, he shot out his left arm, his fist caught the gambler squarely on the chin, and the fellow fell flat on his back, after a desperate effort to retain his footing.

There were murmurs of astonishment from all in the room. The boy's act was so sudden it took every one by surprise. Instinctively Will moved nearer to his brother to protect him, for he felt there would be a fight.

The gambler was on his feet in an instant. With a quick motion he drew a revolver and leveled it at Jed.

"Put up that gun!" yelled a sudden voice, and every one turned to see who had spoken. Old Gabe was entering the room. At the sight of him, the gambler's hand shook, and he lowered the weapon.

"Ah! I've found you, have I!" exclaimed Gabe, as he pushed his way through the crowd. "Now I've got you!"

"No, you haven't!" yelled the gambler, and, with a quick motion, he jumped to one side, and out of an open window near the table, disappearing in the darkness outside.

CHAPTER XV

THEIR FIRST GOLD

Gabe Harrison turned quickly and ran out of the door. The boys, and those in the room, caught a glimpse of the old miner as he hurried past the window after the gambler.

"He'll never catch him," observed a man. "Can't run fast enough."

This seemed to be the general verdict, and it was borne out by the fact, for, in a minute or two, Gabe returned, rather out of breath.