THE BIG FLUME
As the first step in restoring the old Pueblo irrigation system, we
moved camp next morning as arranged. Packing our scanty belongings upon
old Fritz, we rode up the ledge, past the site of the proposed flume,
and down the mountain a short distance to a point between two of the big
claw-like spurs, where, two days before, in riding down to speak to
Galvez, we had come across a little spring which would furnish water
enough for ourselves and our animals.
Thence, walking back to the bridge, taking with us, besides our rifles,
the two axes and one of our long picket-ropes, Pedro first tied the
latter to the tree on our side, and then, taking the other end in his
hand, he walked across and fastened it to the stump on the far side.
It was now our turn to cross, and very little did either of us relish
the idea. Dick, who had volunteered to go first, took hold of the rope,
set one foot on the bridge, and then--he could not resist it--did just
what he ought not to have done:--looked down. The inevitable consequence
was that he took his foot off again and retreated a few steps.
"My word, Frank!" said he. "You may laugh if you like, but I'll be shot
if I'm going to walk across that place. Crawling's good enough for me."
So saying, he again approached the bridge, and going down on his hands
and knees, crawled carefully over.
For myself, I found it equally impossible to screw up my courage far
enough to attempt the passage on foot. In fact, even crawling seemed too
risky, so I just sat myself astride of the three poles and "humped"
myself along with my hands to the other side, where the grinning Pedro
gave me a hand to help me to my feet again.
It was ignominious, perhaps, to be thus outdone by an ignorant,
semi-savage Mexican; but, as Dick said, "You may laugh if you like": I
was not going to break my neck just to prove that I was not afraid--when
I was.
At that hour in the morning the wolves, I suppose, were all asleep. At
any rate we heard nothing of them. But knowing very well that they
might turn up again at any moment, we wasted no time in starting our
first piece of work, namely, preparing a place of refuge against them.
Choosing a spot on the level near the point where we expected to dig our
saw-pit, we cut a number of good, heavy logs, with which, after
carefully notching and fitting them, we erected a pen, seven feet high
and about ten feet square inside. It was the plainest kind of a
structure: merely four walls, without even a doorway; but as it was not
chinked it would be a simple matter for us to clamber up and get inside;
whereas, for a wolf to do the same--with safety--would be far from
simple with us waiting in there to crack him on the head with an ax as
soon as he showed it above the top log.
It may be that we were unnecessarily cautious in providing this refuge.
If the wolves should molest us--a contingency pretty sure to occur some
time or other--it was probable that we should hear them coming in time
to retreat by the bridge, which was not more than a hundred yards
distant. But on the other hand, if they should not give us timely notice
of their approach, it might be very awkward, not to say dangerous--for
Dick and me, at least.
"For Pedro it might be all right," was my partner's comment, "but for
us--no, thank you. I have no desire to be hustled across that bridge in
a hurry. Just imagine how it would paralyze you to try to crawl across
those poles, knowing that there was a wolf standing at the far end
trying to make up his mind to follow you. No, thank you; not for me.
We'll have a refuge here on 'dry land.'"
It was a long day's work, the building of this pen, for we were careful
to make it strong and solid; indeed, we had not yet quite finished it,
when, about four in the afternoon, we heard the first faint whimperings
of the wolves, a long way off somewhere. So, fearing they might come
down upon us before we were quite ready for them, we postponed the
completion of the job until the morrow, and re-crossing the bridge in
the same order and the same manner as before, we went back to camp,
where we spent the remaining hours of daylight in making things
comfortable for a lengthened stay.
To this end we built a little three-sided shelter of logs about four
feet high, the side to the east, facing down the mountain, being left
open. This we roofed with a wagon-sheet we had brought with us in place
of a tent, dug a trench all round it to drain off the rain-water,
covered the floor with a thick mat of pine-boughs, and there we were,
prepared for a residence of six months or more, if necessary.
"Now, Frank," said my partner, as we sat by the fire that evening, "we
have about got to a point where we have to have tools. One of us has got
to go to Mosby to get them, while the other stays here with Pedro. The
question is, which shall go. Take your choice. I'll stay or go, just as
you like."
"Then I think you had better go, Dick," I replied. "You know better than
I do what tools we shall need; you are far more handy at packing a mule
than I am; and besides all that, it will give you an opportunity to see
the professor."
"Thanks, old chap," said Dick, heartily. "That is a consideration. Yes,
I shall be glad to go, if you don't mind staying here with Pedro."
"Not a bit," I replied. "He's an interesting companion; and if one
needed a protector it would be hard to find a better one. No; I'll stay.
I don't at all mind it."
"Very well," said Dick. "Then I think I'll dig out the first thing in
the morning. It will take me, I expect, about six days: two days each
way and perhaps two days in Mosby. It depends on whether I can get the
tools there that I want."
"I should think you could," said I, "unless it is the big rip-saw."
"I don't think there'll be any trouble about that," replied my partner.
"Before the saw-mill came in, two or three of the mines used to cut
their own big timbers by hand, and I've no doubt the old saws are lying
around somewhere still. If they are, I'm pretty sure I can get one for
next-to-nothing, for, of course, they are never used now."
"There's one thing, Dick," said I, after a thoughtful pause, "which
makes me feel a little doubtful about your going alone, and that is lest
Galvez should interfere with you. If he caught sight of you, either
going or returning, he might make trouble."
"He might," replied Dick. "Though I don't much think he is likely to
trouble you or me. Anyhow, when I leave to-morrow, you can take the
glass and just keep watch on the village for an hour or so to see that
he doesn't make any attempt to cut me off. If he should, you can raise a
big smoke here to warn me and ride down to help."
"All right. I will. But how about when you come back?"
"Why, I'll arrange to leave The Foolscap, as we did before, at four
o'clock in the morning, which would bring me about half way across the
valley by sunrise. On the sixth morning, and every morning after till I
turn up, you can take the field-glass and look out for me. From this
elevation you would be able to see me long before Galvez could, and then
you might ride down to meet me."
"That's a good idea. Yes; I'll do that."
Our camp was so placed that we could not only see the whole stretch of
the valley between us and The Foolscap, but also the village and the
country beyond it for many miles, and for about two hours after Dick's
departure I sat there with the glass in my hand watching his retreating
figure, and more especially watching the village. For, though in reality
I had little fear that Galvez would attempt to play any tricks on him,
particularly after Dick's exhibition of rifle-shooting, I was not going
to take any avoidable chances.
At the end of that time, however, I rose up, put away the glass, and in
company with Pedro went over to the other side of the cañon, where we
first finished up the building of the pen, and then, picking out a big,
straight tree suitable for a stringer, I went to work upon it, trimming
off the branches, while Pedro with the shovel began the task of digging
out the saw-pit.
That evening, and each succeeding evening, just before the sun set, we
stopped work and retreated across the bridge in order to avoid any
trouble with the wolves, which, as a rule, did not come out in force
until about that hour. Once only during the time that Pedro and I were
at work there by ourselves did any of them venture on an attack. It was
a pack of about a dozen which came down on us one evening just before
quitting-time, but as we heard them coming, we retired into the pen,
whence I shot one of them before they had found out where we were;
whereupon the rest bolted.
I think the survivors of the fight in Wolf Arroyo--as we had named the
ravine where we had had our battle--must have imparted to all the others
the intelligence that we were dangerous creatures to deal with, for the
wolves in general were certainly much less venturesome than they had
been that first day. At night, though, they came out in droves, and
continuous were the howlings, especially when the wind was south and
they could smell us and our animals only a hundred yards away on the
other side of the cañon.
At sunrise on the sixth day, and again on the seventh, I searched the
valley with the glass to see if Dick was within sight, but it was not
until the morning of the eighth day that I saw him and old Fritz coming
along, not more than five miles away. He must have made a very early
start.
Jumping on my pony, I rode to meet him, while Pedro remained behind to
watch the village.
I was very glad to see my partner safely back again, and especially
pleased to hear the news he brought.
The professor, he told me, was delighted with the turn of events which
bade fair to provide Dick with a settled occupation, and one so well
suited to his tastes and training; while as to Uncle Tom, Dick had
written to him an account of the present condition of the King Philip
mine, and had given him a full description of the undertaking upon which
we proposed to enter. In reply, my genial guardian had sent to me a
characteristic telegram, delivered the very morning Dick left Mosby. It
read thus:
"Go ahead. Money when wanted. How about book-learning now?"
"How's that, Dick?" said I, handing it over to my companion to read.
Dick laughed. "You made a pretty good guess, didn't you?" he replied.
It was a matter of intense satisfaction to both of us to find our
guardians so heartily in favor of the prosecution of our design, and it
was with high spirits and a firm determination to "do or die" that we
carried over the bridge the assortment of tools with which old Fritz was
laden, and that very afternoon went systematically to work.
It was not until we really went about it in earnest that we fully
realized the magnitude of the task we had set ourselves when we
undertook to build that flume. We were determined that if we did it at
all we would do it thoroughly well, and in consequence the timbers we
selected for the stringers were of such size and weight that we should
have been beaten at the word "go" if we had not had for an assistant a
man like Pedro, who combined in his own person the strength of five
ordinary men. It was a pleasure to see him when he put forth all his
powers. Give him a lever, and let him take his own time, and the most
obstinate log was made to travel sulkily down hill when Pedro took it in
hand.
After measuring with particular accuracy the space between the sockets
on either side of the gorge, we sawed off one big timber to the right
length, and getting it into position over the saw-pit we squared its two
ends and then sawed it flat on one side, leaving the other sides
untouched.
I had always understood that working in a saw-pit was a disagreeable
job, but not till I had practical experience of it did I discover how
correct my understanding had been. I discovered also why the expression,
"top sawyer," was meant to indicate an enviable position.
It fell to Pedro to be top sawyer, for the harder part of the work is
the continuous lifting of the saw; but for all that, the man below has
the worst of it, for if he looks up he gets a stream of sawdust into his
eyes, and if he looks down he gets it in the back of his neck. There is
no escape, as Dick and I found--for we took it in turns to go below and
pull at the saw-handle.
However, we were not going to shirk the task just because it happened to
be unpleasant, and being fairly in for it, we made the best of it.
Our first big timber being at length prepared, we got it down to the
edge of the cañon, and then were ready for the next move--the most
important move of all--getting it across the gorge. This could not be
done by main strength, as had been the case with our bridge-timbers, for
this stick, twenty-nine feet long and sixteen inches square, though
pretty well seasoned, was an immense weight.
But what could not be done by force might be accomplished by
contrivance. The most bulky part of old Fritz's load had been composed
of ropes and pulley-blocks, and it was with these that we intended to
coax our big stick across the gap.
Going over to the other side, we set up a framework of stout poles--a
derrick, we called it--to the top of which we attached a big pulley.
Threading a strong rope through this pulley, we carried it back and
fastened it to a windlass which Dick built; he having seen dozens of
them at work among the mines, having observed, fortunately, how they
were made, and being himself a very handy fellow with tools. The
windlass was securely anchored to two trees, when, the other end of the
rope having been carried over and tied to our big log, we were ready to
try the experiment of placing it athwart the chasm.
With this object, Dick and Pedro turned the windlass, while I, crossing
the bridge once more, pried the log forward from behind. It was a slow
and laborious operation, but inch by inch the great log went grating and
grinding forward, until at length its end overlapped the further edge of
the gorge. Soon, with a sullen thump, my end fell into its socket, when
Dick lowered his end into the socket opposite, and our first big
stringer was successfully laid.
It was a good start and greatly heartened us up to tackle the rest of
the work.
Our second big stringer we prepared and laid in the same manner--flat
side up--and then came the most ticklish job of all--the placing of the
two supports beneath each stringer. Without Pedro, with his steady
nerves and his cat-like agility, we could not have done it.
Tying a rope to the stringer, Pedro descended the face of the cliff and
set the butt-end of the supporting beam in its socket--the other end
being temporarily tied in place--repeating the same process on the other
side. These beams we had measured and prepared with great care, so that
when their bases were set, the beveled smaller ends, by persistent
pounding, could be tightly jammed into the notch previously cut for
their reception in the under side of the big stringer. It was a good
piece of work, and very thankful I was when it was safely accomplished;
for though to one with a clear head it might not be very dangerous, it
looked so, and I was, as I say, greatly relieved when it was done.
It might seem that we made these stringers unnecessarily strong, and
perhaps we did. But we intended to be on the safe side if we could. Our
flume was designed to be eight feet wide and five feet deep, and though
the pitch was considerable and the water in consequence would run fast,
if it should by chance ever fill to the top there would be by our
calculation thirty-three or thirty-four tons of water in it.
Having now our foundation laid, the rest of the work was plain,
straightforward building, in which there was no special mechanical
difficulty. One part of our task, however--the sawing of the lumber--we
soon found to be so slow that we decided, if we could get them, to
procure the assistance of two or three Mexicans from Hermanos, and with
that object in view we sought an interview with our friend, José
Santanna.
To do this we supposed we should have to go down to Hermanos, but on
consulting Pedro, we found that there was another and a much easier
way.
I had often wondered if Pedro, during all the years he had lived on the
mountain, had subsisted exclusively on meat, or whether he had some
means of obtaining other supplies, and now I found out. I found that he
had a regular system of exchange with the villagers, by which he traded
deer-meat and bear-meat for other provisions, and that by an arranged
code of signals, familiar to everybody in the village, with the single
exception of Galvez himself, he was accustomed to let it be known when
he desired to communicate with the inhabitants.
Accordingly, Pedro that day at noon went down to a certain spot on one
of the spurs, and there built a fire, and piling on it a number of green
boughs he soon had a column of smoke rising skyward. This was the
signal, and that same evening he and we two boys, going down to the same
spot, sat down there and waited, until about an hour after dark, we
heard the sound of a horse's hoofs, and presently a man rode into sight.
It proved to be Santanna himself, much to our satisfaction.
He, as soon as he learned what we wanted, engaged to send us up three
stout young Mexicans, an engagement he duly fulfilled--to the rage and
bewilderment of Galvez, as we afterward heard, who could not for the
life of him make out what had become of them.
With this accession of strength we needed a second saw, and Dick went
off to Mosby to get one. In a few days he returned with two saws instead
of one, and with a load of dried apples, sugar and coffee with which to
feed our hungry Mexicans. Flour--of a kind--we could get from the
village, and deer-meat, though poor and tough at that season of the
year, we could always procure.
Dick also brought back with him that commodity so necessary in all
business undertakings--some money. The professor had insisted on
advancing him some, while Uncle Tom had enclosed fifty dollars in a
registered letter to me.
Thus armed, we procured two more Mexicans, and setting Pedro and his
five compatriots to work with the three saws, while Dick and I did the
carpenter work, we very soon began to make a showing.
As it was obviously too dangerous to attempt to work on the bare
stringers, we first laid a solid temporary floor of three-inch planks,
and having then a good platform we could proceed in safety to set our
big cross-pieces--upon which the permanent floor was afterward laid--and
to go ahead with the rest of the building.
There being no stint of timber, we could afford to make our flume
immensely strong--and we did. The framework was composed mostly of
ten-by-ten pieces, while the planks for the floor and sides were three
inches thick. The wings at each end of the flume were extended up stream
and down stream eight feet in either direction; and to prevent the water
from getting around these ends we built rough stone walls on the edge of
the gorge and filled in the spaces with well-tamped clay, of which we
were fortunate enough to find a great supply close at hand.
I do not intend to go into all the many details of the work, or to
relate our mistakes or the accidents--all of them slight,
fortunately--which now and then befell us. There was one little item of
construction, however, which seemed to me so ingenious and withal so
simple and so effective that I think it is worth special mention.
When we came to lay our floor and build the sides, the question of
leakage cropped up, when Dick suggested a plan which he said he had
heard of as being adopted by sheepmen on the plains in building
dipping-troughs.
Each three-inch plank, before being spiked in place, was set up on edge,
and along the middle of its whole length we hammered a dent about half
an inch wide and half an inch deep. Then, taking the jack-plane, we
planed off the projecting edges to the same level. The consequence was
that when the plank became water-soaked, this dented line swelled up and
completely closed any crack between itself and the plank above or beside
it. It was an ingenious trick, and proved so successful that it was well
worth the time and trouble it took.
In fact, by the expenditure of time and trouble, in addition to a very
modest sum of money, we did at length put together a flume which, I
think I may say, was a very creditable piece of work. It was strenuous
and unceasing labor, and at first it was pretty hard on me, but as my
muscles became used to the strain I enjoyed it more and more, especially
as every evening showed a forward step--a small one, perhaps, but still
a forward step--toward the accomplishment of our object.
Week after week we kept at it, steadily and perseveringly pegging away,
and at last, one day near the end of July, summoning our six Mexicans to
witness the ceremony, Dick and I, in alternate "licks" drove the last
spike, and the flume was finished!