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

"There," he said, as he pulled the shirt back on his body, "I'd like to see Pockface or Brokennose get the map now, without getting me; and, I reckon, you fellers will see that they have their hands full if they tackle that job," and his eyes glanced proudly around the little circle of men, who had gathered close about him while he was performing his interesting little feat in sewing.

And Thure had good reasons for his pride and confidence in his comrades; for his father and Frank Holt, his uncle, and Hammer Jones and Rex and Dill and Mr. Randolph were all old trappers and hunters and Indian fighters, who had been tried by every form of peril and had never been found wanting. Indeed, the names of Hammer Jones and Noel Conroyal and Steeltrap Smith, as Frank Holt was once called, were still famous throughout all the Rocky Mountain region, for the deeds of daring and skill that had made them comrades in fame, as they often had been in fact, with trappers and Indian fighters like Kit Carson and Jim Bridger and Old Bill Williams and half-a-dozen other fearless men, whose courage and pluck and wonderful skill had made their names known wherever a campfire blazed throughout all the great West. Yes, Thure had good reasons to believe that Brokennose and Pockface, cunning as they were, would certainly have their hands full, if they got the skin map away from him, while he was watched by such men as these.

"They'll have tew git all of us afore they git you, son," declared Ham, in reply to Thure's assertion. "Now," and he stretched his big frame and yawned, "seein' that we've 'tended tew all th' business that needs 'tendin' tew tew-night, we'd better try an' git a leetle more sleep afore mornin'. Leastwise I'm a-goin' tew," and, after a glance through the window to assure himself that everything was all safe and quiet around the Dickson house, he slipped a loaded pistol under his pillow and climbed into his bunk.

Ham's advice, as usual, was too good to be neglected, and soon all were in their bunks. But, just before each had climbed into his bunk, he, like Ham, had slipped a loaded pistol under his pillow. They were not the kind of men to go unprepared when danger threatened.

A cheery call from Mr. and Mrs. Dickson greeted our friends the next morning, as they started down the trail on their way to the wing dam. Both were in the best of spirits and did not appear to be bothering their heads in the least over their rather exciting and unfortunate adventure of the night before. Indeed, what could the burning of a log cabin more or less matter to a man who was digging out of the ground from five to ten thousand dollars' worth of gold a day! They were busily at work putting on a temporary roof in place of the one the fire had destroyed.

"Lose much?" queried Ham sympathetically, as the little company came to a halt in front of the ruins.

"Only a little worn-out clothing and some mighty poor furniture," laughed Dickson. "Mollie and I calculate we can fix up the roof by noon good enough to last the few days we are likely to remain here; and the time it takes us to do that is our only real loss. You see, we've decided, if we get as much as twenty thousand dollars' worth of gold out of that hole, we'll get for New York as fast as the good Lord will let us; and it looks now as if it was good for that much, at least, before it gives out. Why, it won't take more than a couple of days more to fix us all right, if the gold continues to turn up the way it did yesterday! Hope it will be your turn next."

"Same here," laughed Mrs. Dickson. "My, but it does seem good to be digging real gold up out of the ground in handfuls. Hope that wing dam, or whatever you call it, will be the golden key that will unlock the door of fortune to you all."

"We all shore agrees with you thar," grinned Ham. "An' we all hopes that y'ur luck will continue, 'til you gits enough tew send you back home in fine style—not that we're none anxious tew see you go," he added hastily, "'cause 'twould be 'bout as painful an operation as bein' seperated from a sore tooth, to be seperated from that singin' apperatus of your'n. We'll be expectin' you tew come over an' sing some more for us tew-night."

"I certainly can't refuse, after such a compliment to my singing," she laughed back.

"It almost tempts me tew try hitchin' up myself, tew see them tew a-workin' tewgether as happy as tew nestin' birds," grinned Ham, as our friends, after a few minutes' longer talk with the joyful and fortunate couple, continued on their way. "I reckon that's 'bout th' kind of marriage th' feller meant, when he said they was made in heaven; for th' t'other kind 'pear tew be made in t'other place," and Ham chuckled.

That day they succeeded in building a wall of rocks, piled one on top of the other and plastered together with clay and the branches of trees, across the little stream itself and almost high enough to force the water to flow in the new channel. Consequently night found them jubilant; for now it began to look as if they might complete the dam on the morrow, and this was doing better by a day or two than they had expected to do.

"I reckon we had better bring along the pails and the pans to-morrow," Mr. Conroyal said, as he paused with Ham and Mr. Randolph for a last calculating look at the dam, before starting for the log house that night. "Looks now as if we might complete the dam and turn the water a little before night; and, if we do, we will want to get right to work at the hole. It sure looks as if we had struck a good thing here, boys," and his face lighted, as his eyes turned toward the elbow. "If this stream has been carrying down gold the way some of the streams have in this section, we'll have Dickson beat by a wagon load or two of gold a day. I can't see how it can help turning out something big," and the gold-fever light that shone in his eyes began to sparkle in the eyes of the others.

"It shore otter turn out big tew pay us for all this work," and Ham's glance slowly wandered over the huge piles of rocks and dirt that their shovels and strong arms had reared, "but thar's no countin' on what it'll do. 'Twouldn't s'prise me none, if we took out a wagon load of gold; an', ag'in, 'twouldn't s'prise me none, if we didn't take out a thimble load. Gold is 'bout as unsart'in an' queer as women. When you think you've got it shore, gosh, it ain't thar at all! But, I reckon you're right 'bout th' pans an' pails; an' I shore hopes you're right 'bout th' wagon loads of gold."

After supper that night Mr. and Mrs. Dickson came over and joined the circle around the big camp-fire that Thure and Bud had kindled in front of the log house. There was no need to be saving of wood, when all one had to do to get it was to cut it. Wood was the one thing that was free and plentiful in Hangtown.

"How did she pan out tew-day, Dick?" queried Ham, as Dickson seated himself on a log.

"Well," and Dickson hesitated and glanced swiftly and just a little suspiciously around the circle of faces. Already the possession of much gold was robbing him of some of his open, free-hearted confidence in his fellow men, was drawing tight the strings of caution. "Well," he continued, after a swift warning glance into the face of his wife, "I fear that we have about come to the bottom of the pocket. Not much doing to-day," but the light in his eyes seemed to belie his statement.

"Oh, Dick," and Mrs. Dickson turned a reproving face to her husband, "how can you say that, when we found this, and a lot of smaller nuggets, and a good three thousand dollars' worth in gold-dust besides!" and she held up before the astonished eyes of the circle a huge gold nugget. "It weighs exactly five pounds and three and three-quarters ounces, and is worth over a thousand dollars," and the Little Woman's face glowed with triumph. "There," and she turned a pair of happy but defiant eyes on her husband, "I just couldn't keep a thing like that to myself; and I shouldn't want to, if I could; and I told Dick that I couldn't and I wouldn't keep it from you and I didn't," and her eyes sparkled merrily. "But Dick is getting a little afraid that, if it becomes known how big our find really is it might tempt some scoundrel to try and get the gold away from us."

"Not meaning you fellows, of course," and Dickson's face flushed.

"Shore, we understand an' without any explainin'," broke in Ham heartily. "An', Leetle Woman, Dick's more'n half right 'bout bein' some cautious who you tells y'ur good luck tew. Thar was a miner murdered for his gold 'bout a week ago nigh Sacremento City; an' th' murderers worn't caught an' might be a-snoopin' 'round Hangtown right now."

"Mercy!" and Mrs. Dickson turned a whitening face to Ham. "Why, there is hardly a lock on a door in all Hangtown; and most of the miners don't even take the trouble to hide their gold-dust securely. I thought everybody knew that the climate of Hangtown wasn't good for the health of robbers."

"An' so it ain't for them that gits caught," answered Ham. "But humans will risk anything, even their lives for gold. Why, it wasn't more'n a week ago that we run Skoonly out of town for stealin'! So, I reckon, 'tain't more'n good hoss-sense for you tew be some cautious now that you are gittin' a fortune in gold. Not that thar's any harm in a-tellin' old friends like us, 'cause we knows enough tew keep mum 'bout it," and Ham glanced warningly around the circle of interested faces. "But 'twouldn't be good sense tew let th' hull town know th' size of y'ur pile. It's tew goll durned big an' temptin'. Not that I wants tew scare you, Leetle Woman. Only it's jest good hoss-religion not tew tempt y'ur feller mortals more'n it's necessary. Now forgit th' gold an' give us a song."

Ham had not been without his reasons in thus trying to arouse the fears of Mr. and Mrs. Dickson and in warning the others to keep their knowledge of the amount of Dickson's find to themselves; for, since the night adventure of Thure and Bud, he knew that Quinley and Ugger must be lurking somewhere in the vicinity, and that, if these two scoundrels should get knowledge of Dickson's great luck, neither their gold nor their lives would be safe.

Mrs. Dickson sang a number of the old songs, including Ham's favorite, "Sweet Alice, Ben Bolt"; but her music lacked something of its usual soul-fervor. Evidently the words of Ham had so aroused her fears that she could not keep her mind from wandering to the little pile of gold they had left almost unguarded in their lockless log cabin; and, in a short time, both excused themselves on the plea of weariness, and hurried home.

"Tew bad tew scare th' Leetle Woman," Ham said regretfully; "but 'twould be a heap worse tew have Quinley an' Ugger git that thar gold. I got scart of them jest as soon as th' Leetle Woman showed up th' big nugget; for they must be a-lurkin' 'round here somewhere, keepin' an eye on us; an', if they heer'd of Dickson's gold, they shore would try an' git it. Wal, we'd better follow their example an' git tew bed; for we've got a hard day's work afore us, if we finish th' wing dam an' turn th' water tew-morrer. I'm goin'," and Ham, knocking the ashes out of his pipe on the log on which he was sitting, arose and went into the house, whither he was soon followed by the others.

The next day as Thure and Bud were sitting in the shade of the cool side of the gulch, a little apart from the others, eating their lunch and discussing the great find they expected to make when they turned the water of the little stream into the new channel,