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and added:

"But we have no breakfast, and we may as well be moving."

"You're a sensible boy," added Tim O'Rooney, "be the towken that when ye spakes ye quiverally anticipates me own thoughts."

They soon reached the level of the valley, and then took a direction straight toward the spot where they had seen the camp-fire burning. The intervening space was quite thickly grown with trees and vegetation, so that they could obtain no sight of the fire itself until they were very close to it.

"We must be careful," admonished Howard. "If it is a party of Indians they may discover us before we do them."

"I don't suppose it will do for us all to walk straight up to them, for they'll be sure to see us then."

"No, one must creep up and find whether the coast is clear. Tim has seen more of California than we have, and he can do that if he wishes."

"Sinsible agin, for I was about to spake the same. Do yees tarry here while I takes a look around. Whist! now, and kaap so still that ye'll hear me brathe all the way there and back agin."

The boys took their position each behind a large tree, and looking cautiously forth they awaited the return of their friend.

When these precautions were taken they were not a hundred yards distant from the strangers. The Irishman stepped very carefully, moving on tiptoe, and not making any noise that was perceptible. This was no great attainment in woodcraft, as any person could have done the same with ordinary care, when the woods were of the character of this one. Had there been briers or brambles, or swampy ground, or that which was unusually dry, and covered with twigs, it would have been a feat far more difficult of attainment.

Just before Tim disappeared from view they saw him sink down upon his hands and knees and creep forward; but the bushes soon shut him out from view and they could only wait with all the patience possible.

At the end of about ten minutes the genial face of the Irishman appeared, and the expression upon it gave rise to pleasant anticipations.

"Who are they?" asked the two boys together, as soon as they deemed it prudent.

"Whist! now don't spake so loud. Ye'll wake 'em out."

Tim looked behind, and became satisfied that there was no fear of discovery, when he arose to his feet, and took his careless, sauntering manner.

"Well, Tim!'" said Howard inquiringly.

"What is it yez wishes?"

"We wish to know whether these strangers are white men or Indians."

"Well, ye saas, I had to crawl up to 'em mighty careful, for if you step upon a stick no bigger than a tooth-pick, yees are sortin to wake up a slaapin' copper-skin——"

"So they were Indians, then," interrupted Elwood somewhat impatiently.

"Do yes be aisy now, and not be interruptin' of me, and yer observations and questions which ain't naaded in this case. Me owld grandfather used to till a great many stories to us spalpaans about the part he took with young Emmett—when owld Ireland stood up against England. He used to tell us his stories—did the same—and just so sure as one of us axed him a question, he'd go back to the beginning and till the whole story over again. He'd begin airly in the evening, and kaap it going till tin or eleven o'clock. I belave the old gintleman rather liked to have us be interruptin' him, for he laid bates for us wee ones, and ye see by that manes one story sometimes kept him going for a waak. Heaven bliss the owld gintleman—he had a habit of stopping in the middle of an exciting part and lighting his dudheen, and then when he'd begin again, he'd skip over a part on purpose to make us ax him a question——"

"Well, Tim, we will talk about your grandfather some other day," said Howard, who, as naturally may be supposed, was impatient for him to come to the point.

"Yis, I was just through with him, but yees should never be overmuch in haste. Me blessed mother always told me that it was the same as being too slow, and if anybody could spake of the same, could me mother do it. I was about to obsarve when yees interrupted me, that a man must be mighty careful in going up to a camp-fire, for these Indians slaap so quietly that the overturning of a leaf is sure to wake 'em, and you saa by this, if we'd all three gone up, as we war thinkin' about, they'd heard us long before we could have got sight of 'em, and our tramping in Californy would be done with——"

"So they were Indians were they?" asked Elwood again, partly amused and partly vexed at Tim's persistent dallying with their curiosity.

"Who said the same?"

"You implied it. Were they red or white men? Answer us—yes or no!"

"And that is just the pint I's raching for, as me frind, Michael O'Shanghangly, said when he took a half-quart of whisky. Yez understands that I wanted to make sure just who the same might be, and what was their number. 'Spose, now, I should have come back and said there war but three of the same, and there should be a half-dozen, or I should say they was white gintlemen like ourselves, and they should turn out to be of a darker hue. Ye saas that it wouldn't do."

The boys had become so uneasy by this time that they were walking back and forth, and talking to each other in low tones.

"I will go forward and see for myself," said Elwood. "I don't care about waiting an hour or two for him to answer my question."

"He will soon answer us; he is only indulging in a little pleasantry."

"Rather a bad time for jesting."

"I think we can be sure of one thing," added Howard a moment later.

"What is that?"

"That we are not in much danger. If we were he wouldn't wait so long to tell us."

"I don't know about that; it would be in keeping with his foolishness. I tell you, Howard, I will ask him once more, and if he doesn't answer me at once, I shall go forward and learn for myself."

"Well, do so."

"Tim, are those Indians or white men?"

"That's it, is it? Why didn't yez ax me before? They're a party of white men, be the same!"

CHAPTER XVII. THE MINERS.

"I wished to give yez a pleasant surprise, as the doctor said when he told the man that his wife was dead," remarked Tim, in explanation of his conduct. "Had there really been any of the red gintlemen around I'd have told you soon enough."

Our young friends were too well pleased at the intelligence to feel other than good natured, and they gladly forgave Tim for his trespass upon their patience. Without waiting further they walked hastily forward, and a moment later stood by the camp-fire.

Three men, apparently, had just aroused themselves from slumber, and were now stirring around making preparations for their breakfast. They were shaggy, unshorn, grimy-looking fellows, who had "run wild" for several years, but who had not necessarily lost their humanity, even though they had in a great degree lost its outward semblance. In the center, a large bundle of sticks were burning quite briskly, and one of the men was turning and watching some meat that was cooking over it. The others had evidently just returned from the river, for their red temples and foreheads still glistened with moisture which sparkled like dew on their patriarchal beards.

They were rough, hardy-looking fellows, but Elwood felt little apprehension as he stepped forward and said:

"Good morning, gentlemen!"

He who was cook turned his head, but a hot drop of moisture from the steaming meat at that moment flew in his eye, and clapping his finger to it, he muttered something, and forthwith and instantly gave his exclusive attention to his culinary duties.

The second man was rubbing his face with a piece of coarse cloth, and he suddenly paused with his black eyes glaring over the top, his face resembling the head of some huge animal clambering over the edge of a rock, and who, having just gained a foothold, is looking hurriedly around for his prey.

The third was combing his hair, and just at this moment it was moistened and sticking straight over his forehead like the horn of an animal. He would run the comb through with his right hand and then smooth the hair with his left. He stopped with both arms crooked over his head, and wheeled around like an automaton, and stared at the boy a moment, and then said:

"Well, there! Why didn't you ring the door-bell? I say, youngster, come forward and give us a grip of your hand. Halloo! you've got your brother with you!"

"Not my brother, but my cousin, Howard Lawrence."

The two boys shook hands with the three, and the grip that they received from the horny palms made them wince with pain.

"But where'd you come from? We don't see a couple of youngsters dressed up in your style promenading 'round in these parts every day. Where'd you come from?"

"The steamer on which we took passage the other day from Panama, was burned off the coast, and we got ashore on a raft."

"Be you the only ones?"

"No; there were quite a number that escaped."

"Where be they?"

"They were carried away by a vessel while we had wandered inland."

"And you two—halloo! here's your grandfather!"

"No; that is Tim O'Rooney, a good friend of ours."

"Your humble sarvint!" saluted the Irishman, removing his hat, making a profound bow and scraping a large foot upon the ground.

"Well, there! We're glad to see you. What's all your names?"

They were given several times, and then carefully spelled at the request of the large-whiskered man, who desired that no mistake might be made.

"You may call me Ned Trimble, and that ugly-looking fellow 'tending to the fire is George Wakeman, and that horrid-looking chap scrubbing off his dirty face, is Alfred Wilkins. Neither of them know much, and I brought them along to black my boots and dress my hair."

It looked as though Ned was a sort of a wag, for his companions smiled as if they were used to that thing. He continued:

"We're a party of hunters that have been in Californy for the last five years, and I rather guess I've prospected through every part of it."

"You must be rich by this time."

"Rich!" laughed Ned Trimble. "Well there, we're everything but rich. Somehow or other we hain't had the luck. We sold a claim up in the diggings for five hundred dollars, and the next week the party sold it for fifteen thousand. That's the way it has always gone with us; but we are going to be rich yet—ain't we, boys."

"Yes, if we only live long enough," replied Wakeman.

"I told you that chap hadn't much sense," remarked Ned, addressing his three visitors. "He doesn't know enough to answer a question as he oughter. I've been trying to teach him something, but I shall have to give it up as a bad job. Been to breakfast?"

"No—not yet."

"Thought you hadn't. Cook, put up another slice, douse it in butter, salt and pepper, and serve it up as you used to do when I employed you at the Astor. Gentlemen, how do you like it, rare or well done?"

All made answer that they were not particular, and Ned replied thereunto as follows:

"Sensible fellows! If you don't care what you get, you won't have to care much for what you don't get. What will you select as a dessert? Plum, rice, bread, or cherry pudding? Apple, mince, cranberry, plum, peach, or lemon pie? Cup-custard, tapioca, watermelon, citron, or sherry, maderia, or port. Order which ever you choose, gentlemen, it don't make any difference to us. We can give you one just as well as the other."

"I suppose you can," laughed Howard; "so we'll not take the trouble to order any."

"All right; as you please, gentlemen. We haven't any turkey or oysters left so you will have to put up with a little antelope that we shot yesterday afternoon. Fine condition for this time of year, and the best kind of flesh to starve to death on."

"We haven't had a taste of it yet; but we devoured a goodly piece of a mountain sheep."

"Just so. I was going to speak of a mountain sheep, if my servants hadn't interrupted me so often with inquiries as to how they should make the wine sauce. Ah! I see our meal is ready; we will therefore repair to the banquet hall."

The six took their seats upon the leaves, and ate the meal in the usual primitive manner, verifying the adage, "hunger is

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