Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 28 — page 19: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

ee oe what riches he was treading under foot. You have read of placers where the gold lay in such marvelous quantities that the sun’s rays were refracted with blinding brillianey— where one could load it into a wagon with a scoop-shovel—provided one possessed those con- venient accessories—and much more equally brilliant end truthful. Little Voleano was not so favored; his placer lacked all these glowing atitributes—and perhaps ’twas just as well. ‘“‘ Tt is a “queer” sort of virgin gold that daz- zles the eye—that lies all above ground, and still stranger soil in which the real gold will not hide itself, burrowing down until it is stopped by the clay or bed-rock. In this case an old prospecter would have been fairly pleased; the valley had been a wa- ter-course for ages untold, and at this point had made an abrupt turn against the base of a range. At the foot of this the soil was thin, composed first, of sand and gravel, mixed with earth; beneath this a few inches of black soil, resting om hard, fine-grained clay. In this sand lay the bulk of the gold, unable to pass the dense clay. Insome cases—though ae a nugget was exposed to view, where the soil was unusually thin, or something had torn up the ground. Zimri Coon watched Little Voleano for some time, never noticed by the boy miner who tore up the und and pried over pieces of stone with his knife as furiously as at first, nearly every minute unearthing a nugget of greater or less value—sometimes chancing upon a. lititile nest where the precious bits of metal lay touch- ing each other, until his pockets were crammed —then with a sigh the oid man turned away. He at least had not forgotten the threatening rom y fire knew that Sleepy George’s party would not be long in making their appearance, and, once let them suspect the marvelous rich- ness of this placer, they would hesitate at noth- ing in order to make its treasure their own. “They ain’t no use in thinkin’ o’ playin’ sharp on ’em,” muttered Zimri, thoughtfully. ‘‘The boy is dead gone. The devil hisself—hide, horns an’ all—couldn’t skeer him out o’ this, He’ll jest keep on a-diggin ontel he smells thar pow- der a-burnin’—wuss luck! Id like it, too—ef I dared let myself went—but ef I did I wouldn’t Inow when to stop; then we would be gone, sure!” He gazed keenly around. The scene was pic- turesque enough, but that wild beauty was not in his thoughts now. The towering hills and rocky crags, relieved by the, dark-green shrubs and trees, lining each side of the valley, were not half so interesting now as the sp one yee bowlders lying along the hill’s foot. A shrew smile gradually lighted up his face as he nodded toward the perpendicular rock beyond Little Voleano. ‘‘Richt thar’s the place—I kin rig it up fit to fight a hull tribe. Them dornicks yender’s jest the ticket. Ef the boy would only wake up to lend a feller a hand—but he won’t ontel he’s clean tuckered out an’ hed a snooze over it.” Though he believed there was an abundance of time, the old miner had learned prudence in his wanderings, and he at once set about the work he had planned, laboriously rolling heavy bowlders together so as to form a rude semicir- cle with the face of the cliff for a back. At first Little Voleano paid no attention to him, but then, as the old man paused, breathless over his exertion, the boy miner’s better self was awak- ened, and he sprung to his friend’s assistance. as Keep to your gold-scratchin’, little *un—I kin manidge by myself,” said Zimri, kindly. “They’s no pertic’lar hurry—jest so it’s done afore night.” . ‘So can the gold wait,” half-laughed Little Voleano, wiping his streaming face. “I be- lieve I was half-crazy—and isn’t it enough to make one?” at the same time em ig his pock- ets of their precious load upon the shingle inside the little inclosure. ‘Look at that! Ten thou- sand dollars’ worth, if there’s a cent! and dead loads of it where that camo from, too! Old man, we’re the two richest men in California peg oe ‘* That’s good enough, little ‘un,” quietly re- lied Zimri; “but it ain’t everythin’. Old as I ye, I val’e Th life as more ’n all the gold ever hearn on. at’s why I’m doin’ this work, in- stead o’ ralin’ in the purty nu ) ‘‘You think they'll find us, then?” ““T know it—jest as sure as the sun is up yen- der, them buzzards 0’ ’tarnal cussedness ’ll nose us out here—” “But if Sleepy George alone knew where we were headed for—and he’s past telling—”" ‘Past smellin’, little un,” chuckled Zimri, eleefully. ‘Past smellin’ I'll not gainsay—but I reckon his jawin’-tackle ain’t past workin , yit. I told you I didn’t keer about strikin’ the fust blow—nur I wouldn’t ’a’ did as much as I did ef they hadn’t pitched onto that crazy critter. Seein’ they did that, I thought I'd mark the varmint—an’ so I did, fer keeps! Sleepy George wasn’t never no beauty, but I reckon he’s no better—a pesky sight wuss, now—fer IT tuck off the eend o’ his nose—Lord! how the cuss did squeal! Reckon he thought the devil was help- in’ him blow his bugle that time—an’ never stoppin’ to cool his fingers, nuther,” and the old -was studded here and there wi Three-Fingered Jack. ‘ fellow went off intoa fit of laughter that did not improve his wind any. Mi a comes within range here [ll choose a better mark than his nose,” muttered the bo miner. ‘‘But to work. ‘ We'll finish this first, then rake in what gold we can before they come to trouble us.” ‘We'd ought to-have more grub; they’s no tellin’ how long the cusses ’Il keep us cooped up —tain’t in ’em to stan’ up to thar gruel an’ hey it out like men. They’ll try the sneakin’ dodge, most likely,” grumbled Coon. ‘“ We've enough for a week, with care. It will be ended before that time. Water will be the worst. ,.There’s none nearer than the spring over yonder, and our canteens won’t ho d much,” ‘“‘That’s easy fixed. They’s plenty of flat rocks an’ good stiff clay. Tl dig a hole in thar, lay rocks bottom an’ sides, plaster ’em thick with clay, an’ thar you hev it. But fust cit up these walls; then while you're fillin’ up the holes—fix some with stone plugs in so you kin pull ’em out to shoot through—lll ’tend to makin’ the well.” The comrades worked stoutly, never think- ing of fatigue, for both were eager to get back to the gold. Zimri built his ‘ well” and filled it with water from the spring. It held prob- er | ten gallons, and seemed perfectly tight. A flat stone served as a cover, to keep it from the sun and dust, By this time Little Volcano had finished his chinking. The result was an admirable stone fort, some twenty feet long by ten in diameter, at its widest part, completely bullet-proof, unless when the plugs were re- moved from the loop-holes. ‘* We wasn’t none too soon, nuther,” muttered Zimri to the boy miner, as they recommenced turning over the dirt for gold. ‘‘ Don’t move your head, but look up yender, jist to the right of whar we come down.” The figure of a man was distinctly visible for a moment, then quickly disappeared behind a clump of bushes. “The cuss hes jest sighted us, —keep on workin’. They know now whar we air an’ what we’re doin’. Ill see that they don’t git too close, never fear, though I s’pect they’ll lay low ontel they kin work onder kiver 0 night.” ' Little Voleano obeyed, having implicit con- fidence in his chum. Zimri was to all appear- ance equally absorbed in the search, but scarce a leaf rustled upon either side that his keenly roving eye did not instantly note and penetrate the cause of it. The sun was sinking to rest, and the shadows owing too thick for watching, when imri gave Little Voleano the word to knock off for the on ge They did not yet enter the little fort, but lay outside, eating their scanty supper, waiting until the shade should be dee enough to hide their movements. Coon coul see that the enemy were gradually creeping nearer, though he gave no signs of suspecting ger. He, like Little Volcano, wished the crisis to come as quiasy’ as ible. f Then they crept into the fort, lying at their loop-holes with weapons ready for work, The moon was shining clearly. Though the valley bushes, the enemy could not pass within pistol-shot without venturing over open ground, ‘““Thar they come!” muttered Zimri, some little time before midnight. ‘‘ Let ’em come up close. Tl hail ’em—but we must let ’em give the fust lick—mind that!” Five minutes later, he. called aloud, demand- ing their business. or a moment they hesita- ted, evidently confused by the un sted chal- lenge, but then, with loud cries, they sprung forward, firing with every ed apparently re- solved to end all at one fierce blow, Then rung out the rifle of the old hunter, keeping time with the crack of Little Volcano’s revolvers. CHAPTER XXII. ANOTHER FINGER IN THE PIE. BLENDING with and rising high above the re- port of the old miner’s rifle, there comes a shriek so wild and piercing, so full of mortal anguish and utter despair, that even in that mo- ment of dark passion and deadly hatred more than one cheek pales, more than one heart turns faint and sick. But only fora moment. The stakes are well worth winning. The gamblers ress on—yelling, cursing like veritable fiends. heir pistols speak rapidly—the leaden pellets flattening against the rock fort. Bright flashes and spiteful reports answer them—the sulphur- ous cloud overhangs all like a pall, Then the fierce ardor of the gamblers begins to cool, even while the rude pile of stones lies almost within arm’s length. They had count- ed upon a vs ater mop it their plans were all arranged; but such a hot reception was not among them. It is hard work, this fighting men who are invisible, who can be placed only by the lightning gleam of their firearms, lacking a leader, as they do—for Sleepy George can scarce- ly be called one. And so, cursing bitterly, they retreat—two more shots from the barricade and the retreat becomes a stampede. A taunting laugh follows them, doubly hard to bear since it assures them that both their in- Never mind s 19 a tended victims are alive and uninjured, wh they—more than one bears apes wounds while there, ying still and stark just in the edge of the shadow, lies one of their number, hia crime-stained heart forever stilled. ‘“Whoo—ee!” screamed Zimri Coon, his shrill voice ringing with exultation. “Pick up you logs an’ travel, ye woolly-backed galoots o’ nat? ral cussedness—hunt your holes, ye bob-tailed horn-toads o’ perdition! Whoo—hee! Your the high-toned whangdoodles as the yeth hain’ ood enough fer your feet to tramp on—come 1ere to skeer two pore little orfint babbys out o thar pin-a-hinds—an’ they only got a couple o’ te ter popene: Oh, gitout! Goshake yourselves send us some men, next time!” ‘Work ’em up, old man,” cried Little Volca no, with a reckless laugh. ‘‘Shame’em intd coming again if you can. The di cowards must turn tail and sneak off just as it began tc grow interesting.” ‘“‘ Six overgrowed dogs rigged up to look like men—to back down afore two—one a old crit ter as hain’t got no eyes, only one tooth an’ hits holler ’un, so clean worn out he hes to lean uy ag’in’ a tree to cough, an’ t’other ’un a little boy as hain’t got shet of the smell o’ his mammy milk! Sufferin’ Moses! it makes me sick—i does so! Don’t be so pesky bashful—don’t now ’Tain’t good manners to foller us so far, not t¢ make a longer call nor that—” F “Don’t you be snatched, old coon—I reckon er stay with ye long’s your stomach kin star i ‘‘Hooh! I hear a coyote yelpin’—that’s ¢ zly bait a-belchin’ now. Sleepy George—com an’ see me!” There was no reply made to this cordial iny tation, nor was anything more h from enemy, though Zimri aired his sarcastic elo quence some minutes longer, racking his brair to devise insulting epithets and “odorous ” com parisons, seeking to draw the gamblers from their covert. But even his tongue tired, and h relapsed into disgusted silence, es heeatns ' enemy were resolved to await the coming day. “They’s no use in our both stayin’ awake, at leacth said Zimri, to the boy miner. ‘ Ther cowardly rip don’t mean to do nothin’ more tc night, an’ one pa’ o’ eyes kin do all the watch in’ needful. You lay down fera couple o’ ho then Pll pone. ve out an’ try a snooze myself No back talk—do as I tell ye.” It was a dreary watch, and more than on ~Zimri caught himself baer for the day dawn. The moon rolled y along, soo dipping beyond the western rock-range, thro ing the little valley into deepest shadow, an¢ though the stars twinkled brightly, their ra served only to render darkness ble—to in crease the many shadows which seemed to b creeping here and there, each one taking thi shape of a bloodthirsty enemy to the straine eyes of the watcher. <A night vigil not soon t be a Ble he with a sensation of profoun act “dial n watched the growing light the eas Eagerly he out over the valley, for Se he . Berek va gloom ne th ee e had heard the gamblers busy at wo —and now he saw the meaiitt. . Before him, distant some fifty yards, was rude wall, or rather pile of rocks, thrown has tily together. Behind this rose a clump ¢ bushes, and a sca line of similar one under cover of which a creeping man coul easily — beyond rifle-shot of the rock fort, i case of need. ' “You keep your word well, old man,” sai the boy miner, awakening witha yawn. ‘Wh didn’t you me, as you said?” ‘They'll be plenty time afore all’s done, tle *un. Take a squint out thar—looks like th cusses meant little old business, don’t it? ec cowards mean to try the starvin’-ov ary as railly b’lieve!” in disgust. ‘Look at that body!” muttered Little Vo cano, in a hoarse, strained voice. ‘Don’t yo recognize it?” ; ‘Looks like—durned ef ’tain’t!” was the re ply, after a moment’s scrutiny, ‘He won never steal no more chips.” “Laughing Dick! if she only knew—” “"Twasn’t you did it, little ‘un. Isee’d th warmint drap when I pulled trigger. I didn know him, then, but of it’d bin broad day, he the werry one I'd ’a’ picked out. As fer her: s’posin’ they wasn’t no mistake in your see them together—why, it jest sarves her right fe consortin’ with sech or trash.” oe ‘‘ Look—they are showing a rag! "Tisn’t whtt but I suppose it’s meant fora flag of truce. Be ter answer.” ¢ “Say, you fellers!” came _a challenge, in muffled, indistinct voice. ‘‘ We want to have ” ‘ “Who's hinderin’ on ye, ye durn fool?” ve “Promise not to shoot, and I'll come « where we can more comf’tably; hone bright, now.” Mes You cain’t come no brace game on Ine, 1a dy buck—not much! I wouldn’t trust ye fu der ’n you could sling a dead grizzly by U ich is mighty short grips. You Ka h from onder kiver; th Be speak your inch o’ hide e¢om 1 hev kiver a cbhookstcon