The Cave of Gold<br />A Tale of California in '49 by Everett McNeil (summer books txt) 📖

duties attended to. "Th' miner that murdered that tree, jest so that he might have dry wood, was murdered himself, jest for his gold; an' here we be a-settin' around an' takin' comfort from a camp-fire built from th' dead limbs of th' dead miner's dead tree, an' bound on a hunt for th' dead miner's gold. Wal, I shore hopes we have better luck than he did."

"Oh, shut up, Ham!" and Rex threw a discarded flapjack at Ham's head, with such good aim that it landed squarely over his big mouth. "You are enough to give the dumps to a man with the tooth-ache."

When the laugh that followed this admirable use of valuable ammunition had quieted down, Dickson turned to Mr. Conroyal.

"I think I would like to have another look at that skin map," he said.

"Certain, get the map, Thure," and Mr. Conroyal turned to Thure.

Thure hesitated a moment, and then, catching sight of Mrs. Dickson's little tent and receiving a smiling nod from her, he quickly entered the tent, and a few minutes later came out with the skin map in his hand, and handed it to Mr. Dickson.

Pedro, who was standing near, washing the few supper dishes in a gold-pan, started a little and almost visibly pricked up his ears at the first mention of the skin map, and his evil eyes followed Thure into the tent, with an intensity of look that was well for him was unseen by his employers.

Dickson took the map and spread it out on his knees, where the light of the camp-fire shone full upon it; and soon all were gathered around him, yes, all, even Pedro, who had softly left his dish washing and tip-toeing up to the heads bending absorbedly over the map, was now striving to secure a glimpse of the skin map directly from over the big shoulders of Ham.

Suddenly Ham straightened up his huge frame, with such a sudden jerk, that one of his shoulders came in so violent a contact with the point of Pedro's chin that the Mexican was lifted off his feet and thrown flat on his back to the ground.

"Wal, I'll be durned!" and Ham stared down in astonishment on the fallen Mexican. "Thought I heer'd someone breathin' over my shoulder. Now what might you be dewin' down thar?" and the eyes that glared down into Pedro's face began to glow angrily.

"I—I" stammered Pedro, as he staggered a little dizzily to his feet, both hands holding onto his head. "I but try to see what make so great interest to señors, when sudden up comes that great body and hit chin, like bunt of big bull, and knock head to ground. I did but follow my head, señor."

"Jest follered y'ur head, did you?" and Ham's anger vanished in roars of laughter, at the words of the unfortunate Mexican and the looks on his face, in which he was heartily joined by all the others, all except Mrs. Dickson, who inquired solicitously of Pedro if he was much hurt.

But Pedro's curiosity for the moment was fully satisfied, and, without making any reply, except to mutter something about American bulls under his breath, he retreated to his dish washing.

"Sarved him right," declared Ham emphatically, as all again resumed their examination of the skin map.

When the map had been sufficiently examined, Thure again retired into Mrs. Dickson's tent, where he again concealed the map in the bosom of his shirt; and when he came out again, apparently without the map, Pedro smiled knowingly.

Before going to her tent that night Mrs. Dickson sang a number of songs, and almost weirdly beautiful her voice sounded in the still night air of that little wilderness valley, concluding with Ham's favorite "Ben Bolt." Then she bade them all good-night and disappeared into her little tent.

Mr. Dickson and Thure were to stand guard that night until the moon came up, which would be about one o'clock in the morning. Consequently, as soon as Mrs. Dickson retired, all but these two rolled themselves up in their blankets near the camp-fire and were soon sound asleep. Thure and Dickson each picked up his rifle and took his station on opposite sides of the camp and began his long silent vigil.

The skies were overcast with clouds and the darkness was so dense that the watchers could not see six feet outside of the constantly dimming circle of the firelight. In a couple of hours the fire had burnt down so low, that, from where Thure stood near the horses, he could not even see the white of Mrs. Dickson's tent, although it was not over ten yards from where he stood; and he was about to step forward to replenish it, when a dark object leaped by him, so close that he could have touched it with his outstretched rifle, and disappeared in the darkness before he could utter a word or throw his gun to his shoulder, and the next instant the air was rent by a piercing shriek from Pedro, followed by the flash and the report of his pistol and his yells of fright.

In an instant every man in the camp was on his feet, his rifle in his hands, calling excitedly: "What is the trouble?" "What has happened?" and running to where Pedro was rolling about on the ground, calling on all the saints in the Mexican calendar to protect him, seemingly frantic with fear.

"Stop that yellin', you Mexican coyote, an' tell us what has happened, quick," and Ham bent down and, seizing the squirming Pedro by the shoulders, jerked him to his feet and dragged him unceremoniously to the camp-fire, which an armful of dry fuel caused to blaze up brightly.

"Madre de Dios! I know not! I know not!" cried the man, glaring wildly about him and clinging to Ham. "Unless it was the devil of these evil mountains. I lay sleeping, rolled up in my blanket, when,—poof!—something hit my side and something big and ugly tumble all over me and I see something black and awful jump in the darkness and I grab my pistol I always sleep with me in blanket and shoot—bang!—and the big black thing give one great jump and vanish, just like a black devil, in the darkness. Santissima! I know not what he was, if he was not the devil! I—"

"I saw him rush by me so close that I might have touched him with my rifle," here broke in Thure; "but, before I could speak or shoot, he had disappeared in the darkness, and then came Pedro's shot and yells."

"Look to the horses!" cried Mr. Conroyal. "See that everything is safe!"

At that moment Dickson appeared in the circle of light made by the camp-fire.

"All the horses are safe," he said. "Nothing appears to be missing. What does all this excitement mean? I saw nothing, heard nothing, until the shooting and yelling began—" He stopped abruptly and glanced swiftly around. "Mollie! Where's Mollie?" and he sprang toward the tent.

"Gosh! I plumb forgot th' Leetle Woman! She shore otter have showed up afore this," and Ham's face whitened, as his eyes followed Dickson into the little tent.

The fire was now burning so brightly that the tent showed plainly in its ruddy light; and the eyes of all fixed themselves on it, a look of dreadful apprehension on each whitening face.

For a moment all was silent after Dickson disappeared in the tent; and then came a yell of horror that made every man jump for the tent, just as Dickson staggered out with a squirming bundle in his arms, that he quickly laid down on the ground and began frantically untying the deerskin thongs with which it was tightly bound.

"Great God, if 'tain't th' Leetle Woman!" and Ham bent excitedly and with his knife began cutting the thongs, which bound Mrs. Dickson, head and all, in her own blanket as tightly as an Egyptian mummy.

In a moment her body was free; but, when the blanket was lifted from her face, her mouth was found to be so tightly stuffed, with a piece of cloth torn from her own dress, that she could not utter an audible sound. Dickson's strong fingers quickly pulled the cloth out of her mouth; and she lay, white and gasping for breath, but apparently unhurt, staring up wildly into the faces of the excited men.

"Take her into the tent, Dick, until she recovers from her fright and rough usage," whispered Mr. Conroyal, bending close to Dickson's ear.

Dickson quickly lifted his wife into his arms and carried her into the tent.

"Who did it?" and Mr. Conroyal's eyes searched anxiously the angry and mystified faces of the men, the moment Mr. Dickson vanished with his burden in the tent.

"Th' Lord alone knows for sart'in," answered Ham. "But, I reckon, 'twas one of them durned skunks. Jest wait 'til th' Leetle Woman gits tew feelin' like herself ag'in an' maybe she can give us some useful information."

But, in this conjecture, Ham was wrong; for, when something like half an hour later, Mrs. Dickson came out the tent, leaning on her husband's arm and looking very white, but otherwise little the worse for her experience, all the information she could give only added to the mystery.

She had been sound asleep when the attack was made. The first thing she knew a hand held her by the throat, so tightly that she could not utter a sound; and, when she opened her mouth, gasping vainly for breath, it was instantly stuffed full of rags, so firmly that she could not utter a loud sound. Then the hand was taken from her throat, her arms pressed closely to her sides, and she was tightly rolled up in her own blanket, head and all, and tied the way they had found her. For some little time after that she heard her assailant cautiously searching the tent. He appeared to be exceedingly anxious to find something; for every possible hiding-place in the tent had been thoroughly searched and every package or bundle had been opened. When the search was over, she heard the intruder creep softly out of the tent. Then had followed a few minutes of silence broken suddenly by Pedro's yells and shot. Owing to the darkness and to the fact that her eyes had been covered as quickly as possible, she could not give any idea of what her assailant looked like, only she did not think he was a large man.

This was all the information that Mrs. Dicksom could give; and a thorough search of the tent with a torch added nothing to it.

Thure and Pedro were again examined; but they could give no definite information. Thure had only caught a glimpse of the man, as he had rushed by him in the darkness; and Pedro appeared to have been too nearly frightened out of his wits to have seen anything correctly, even if it had been clear daylight, instead of the black night that it was. However both disagreed with Mrs. Dickson in one particular. Thure felt quite sure that the man who rushed by him was a large man; and Pedro was positive that he was a giant in size. Dickson had not seen the man at all. The horses and the packs, indeed the whole camp, were thoroughly examined with lighted torches; but nothing was found missing, nothing had even been disturbed outside of Mrs. Dickson's tent, and from here, so far as they could discover, not a thing had been taken.

"It's 'bout as plain as th' nose on a man's face that he was after th' skin map," Ham commented, when all had again gathered around the camp-fire to consider the mystery; "but, why should he look for it in th' tent? an' how did he git in thar? that's what gits me," and Ham shook his head. "Wal, thar is no use figgerin' on it any longer tew-night. Let's git back intew our blankets; an' maybe we can see things clearer in th' mornin'. It's tew tarnel dark even tew think," and Ham laid down on his blanket and rolled himself up in it and refused to have another word to say about the mystery that night.

"Reckon Ham is right," Mr. Conroyal declared, as that worthy disappeared in his blanket. "But I sure would like to have a look at the man, who can creep into our camp at night, right under the noses of the guards, and tie one of us up in a blanket, and search a tent, and make a clean getaway. I sure would like to have a look at that man."

"I'd want more than a look," and Mr. Dickson clenched both his hands. "I'd just like to get hold of him for about five minutes, the scoundrel!"

"And you are not the only one, Dick," and an angry light flashed into Mr.