The Cave of Gold<br />A Tale of California in '49 by Everett McNeil (chapter books to read to 5 year olds .TXT) 📗

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