CHAPTER I.--A REMARKABLE CAMP.

Produced by Roger Frank, Mary Meehan, and the Online Distributed

Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net.

THE STORY OF

Sam Willett's Adventures on the Great

Colorado of the West.

_By_ ALFRED R. CALHOUN,

_Author of_

"Cochise," "Excelsior," "The Californians," etc., etc.

ILLUSTRATED.

NEW YORK:

A. L. BURT, PUBLISHER.

_Copyright 1888, by A. L. Burt._

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[Illustration: _Sam succeeded in guiding the raft to a ledge of sloping

rocks._]

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CONTENTS

CHAPTER I.--A REMARKABLE CAMP.

CHAPTER II.--LOOKING BACKWARD AND FORWARD.

CHAPTER III.--SAM'S TRIALS BEGIN.

CHAPTER IV.--A PERILOUS SITUATION.

CHAPTER V.--AT HURLEY'S GULCH.

CHAPTER VI.--WHY THE PAPERS WERE NOT BROUGHT.

CHAPTER VII.--THE WONDERFUL VOYAGE BEGINS.

CHAPTER VIII.--MR. WILLETT AND HANK TIMS.

CHAPTER IX.--A FRUITLESS EFFORT.

CHAPTER X.--A NIGHT OF AWFUL GLOOM.

CHAPTER XI.--A TRYING SITUATION.

CHAPTER XII.--THE VOYAGE IS RESUMED.

CHAPTER XIII.--WHIRLED AWAY.

CHAPTER XIV.--ORDER AND DISORDER.

CHAPTER XV.--THE PROVISIONS ALL GONE.

CHAPTER XVI.--DANGER AHEAD.

CHAPTER XVII.--MR. WILLETT LEARNS THE NEWS.

CHAPTER XVIII.--IN THE RAPIDS.

CHAPTER XIX.--AFLOAT AGAIN.

CHAPTER XX.--THE TRIAL BEGINS.

CHAPTER XXI.--A BREAK IN THE CLOUDS.

CHAPTER XXII.--"JOY! JOY! IT IS ULNA AGAIN!"

CHAPTER XXIII.--THE TRIAL IN PROGRESS.

CHAPTER XXIV.--OUT OF THE DEPTHS.

CHAPTER XXV.--FROM SAFETY INTO DANGER.

CHAPTER XXVI.--THE TRIAL ENDS.

CHAPTER XXVII.--THE APACHES HAVE THEIR WAY.

CHAPTER XXVIII.--A BOLD MOVE.

CHAPTER XXIX.--THE VERDICT AND SENTENCE.

CHAPTER XXX.--SURPRISE FOR HURLEY'S GULCH.

CHAPTER XXXI.--HOW IT FARED WITH SAM AND HIS FRIENDS.

CHAPTER XXXII.--IN GREATER PERIL STILL.

CHAPTER XXXIII.--IN A TRAP.

CHAPTER XXXIV.--A BRIEF TRUCE AND WHAT FOLLOWED IT.

CHAPTER XXXV.--A NIGHT BATTLE.

CHAPTER XXXVI.--TO THE RESCUE.

CHAPTER XXVII.--SAM'S DEVOTION IS REWARDED.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.--THE LAST, BUT NOT THE LEAST IMPORTANT.

LOST.

FATE OF AN ENTRAPPED BEAR.

A FIGHT IN THE WOODS.

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LOST IN THE CANYON.

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CHAPTER I.--A REMARKABLE CAMP.

The scene of this narrative is laid in Southwestern Colorado, and the

date is so recent that boys living out there at that time are only just

beginning to think themselves young men--and it is really astonishing

how soon boys leap into vigorous manhood in that wild, free land.

"We's 'bleeged to hab 'im, for dah ain't de least scrap ob meat in de

camp!"

This stirring information was shouted by a stout negro boy of fifteen or

sixteen years of age, who, with a long, rusty, single-barrel shot-gun in

his arms, stood at the base of a towering mass of bare rocks, and looked

eagerly up at two other youths creeping along the giddy heights, and

evidently in eager search of something that had escaped them, but which

they were determined to overtake.

The lithe form, long black hair, and copper-colored skin of one of the

young hunters bespoke him an Indian of the purest type. He wore a

close-fitting buckskin dress, and slung at his back was a short

repeating rifle.

The other youth up the rocks, though bronzed on the hands and face to a

color as dark as the young Ute's, had the blue eyes and curly yellow

hair that told of a pure white ancestry. His name was Samuel Willett,

and though not much more than sixteen years of age, his taller form and

more athletic build made him look several years the senior of his red

and black companions.

Sam Willett was armed and dressed like a hunter, and his well-worn

equipments told that he was not out masquerading in the costume of a

theatrical Nimrod.

The Indian youth, Ulna, and Sam Willett had chased a Rocky Mountain or

bighorn sheep into the mass of towering rocks which they were now

searching; and that they were not hunting for mere sport was proven by

Ike, the black boy's repeated cry:

"We's 'bleeged to hab 'im, foh dar ain't de least scrap ob meat in de

camp!"

"I want to get the meat as much as you do, Ike, so have patience!" Sam

shouted down, without stopping in his pursuit an instant.

The two daring hunters disappeared, and Ike, whose desire for meat was

greater than his love for the chase, began circling about the confused

pile of rocks so as to keep his companions in sight.

The bighorn "sheep" is in reality not a sheep at all, but a variety of

powerful mountain antelope, whose strength, speed and daring among the

rocks and canyons are not the least wonderful things about the wonderful

land in which he makes his exclusive home.

Even old Western hunters believe that these animals can leap from

immense heights and land on their horns without harm, but this is an

error.

While Ike was gazing with eager eyes and open mouth at the towering,

volcanic cliffs, the bighorn came to view on a rock five hundred feet

overhead.

The hunters were close behind, and the creature's only means of escape

was to leap across a chasm fully thirty feet wide to another rock of a

little lower elevation.

"Shoot! shoot!" yelled the excited Ike, as the bighorn gathered himself

up and eyed the terrific gorge that beset his course.

As if stung to desperation by the shout the creature leaped forward with

a force that must have cleared the gulf, and an accuracy that would have

insured a landing on the other side, but just as it sprang into mid-air

two shots rang out within a small fraction of a second of each other,

and the bighorn came crashing down and fell dead at the black boy's

feet.

In his wild excitement Ike discharged the rusty single-barrel shot-gun,

which he had been hugging in his arms as if it were a baby. All the

power of the old-fashioned weapon must have been in the report and

recoil, for the former sounded like the explosion of a howitzer, and the

latter was so terrific as to send the holder sprawling across the

carcass of the bighorn.

Sam Willett saw all this as he hurried down the rocks, otherwise he

might have thought when he had reached the bottom that the animal had

fallen on his companion and faithful servant and killed him.

"Hello, Ike, old fellow, what's up?" asked Sam, as he helped the owner

of the shot-gun to his feet.

"Is I all alive, foh shuah, Mistah Sam?" demanded Ike, as he stared

wildly about him.

"Of course you are, and here is the meat you have been so eager for,"

said Sam.

"Wa'll, Mistah Sam, it's dat ar gun," said Ike, gazing sadly at the old

weapon which he still held in his arms. "I ain't used her bad; ain't

fired her off for more'n six months afore we kem out har from

Michigan--dat's five months ago--an' now only to tink she's done gone

back on me in dat are way."

The Indian youth, Ulna, had come down by this time, and when he took in

the situation his fine, almost effeminate face was wreathed in smiles,

that displayed a beautiful set of white teeth.

In a low, musical voice and without any accent, he said in excellent

English:

"The sun is setting and we must hurry if we would reach the camp before

dark."

"An' more partikler ez we've got to tote dis ar venizon home," said Ike,

now wide awake to the necessities of the situation.

Each of the youths had a hunting knife in his belt, and they soon proved

that these weapons were not carried for ornament.

With a rapidity and skill that would have won the admiration of an

eastern butcher, they skinned and cleaned the animal, severed the

mammoth head and then divided the meat into three parcels.

Each had to shoulder about fifty pounds, but being sturdy, healthy young

fellows they did not seem to mind their burdens, as they started off

with long, vigorous strides toward the west.

The sun in all his course does not look down on a wilder, grander or

more desolate land than that which met the gaze of the young hunters, no

matter to which side they turned.

Verdureless mountains of fantastic shapes rose into the cloudless sky on

every hand.

Here and there in the crevices of the black volcanic rocks, over which

they hurried, a stunted sagebush or a dwarf cactus suggested the awful

barrenness of the place rather than told of vegetation.

They were in the land of canyons and drought, on the summit of the Great

American Plateau where rain but seldom falls, where the streams flow

through frightful gorges, and where men and animals have often perished

from thirst within sight of waters which they could not reach.

Bleak and sublime as the land was, is, and ever must be, yet the

belief--a well founded belief by the way--that its gloomy ravines

contained gold, led hundreds of hardy miners and adventurers to look

upon it as that El Dorado for which the early Spanish explorers in these

wilds had sought in vain.

As the leader of the little party, Sam Willett, strode ahead, the

deepening shadows of the mountains impelled him each instant to a

quicker pace.

There was no apparent trail, yet Sam never hesitated in his course, but

kept on as unerringly as a bird of passage, till he came to a great

black rift that seemed to suddenly open at his feet.

Away down in the shadowy depths he could see a white band that told of

moving water.

A glow, the source of which could not be seen, indicated a fire down

near the base of the cliff, and the barking of a dog--the sound appeared

to come from the depths of a cave--suggested a human habitation.

On reaching the crest of the chasm Sam Willett did not hesitate, but at

once plunged down to what, to a stranger, would appear certain death.

Along the canyon wall there was a steep but well constructed trail that

afforded secure footing to a traveler who was not troubled with

giddiness.

Without once stopping, Sam and his companions made their way to the

bottom of the rift and forded the roaring torrent that thundered over

its uneven bed.

On the canyon wall, opposite to that by which they had descended, they

saw about a hundred feet above the stream, what seemed like a number of

illuminated pigeon holes. This was their home, the place to which had

been given the not inappropriate name of "Gold Cave Camp."

With barks of delight, a big dog met them near the water and joyously

escorted them up the other side to an irregular plateau, about a hundred

feet in diameter, that shot out like the once famous Table Rock at

Niagara.

This plateau was in front of the cave, in which the miners had made

their home.

The background of light revealed the forms of three men. The dress and

long cue of one bespoke him a Chinaman, the second was dressed like a

hunter, and the third, a tall, powerful figure, had only his heavy beard

and striking stature to distinguish him.

"Is that you, Sam?" called out the tall man, as the foremost of the

party reached the plateau.

"Yes, father," was the reply, "and we have brought back some meat."

"Wa'll!" exclaimed the second man, "I didn't think thar was a pound of

live meat left within twenty mile of yar."

"Hoolay! Bully! Now me gettee suppel!" cried the excited Chinaman, who

was known by the fitting name of Wah Shin.

Preceded by Maj, the dog, Sam and his fellow hunters entered the

remarkable cave--of which we shall speak hereafter--and laid the meat on

the floor.

"I began to grow uneasy about you, my boy," said Mr. Willett, as he

fondly kissed his son, "meat is very desirable, but I would rather

suffer for it than be worried at your absence."

Sam explained about the delay in the hunt, and then went to a spring

that rose from the floor of the cave close to the fire, and here he set

the example of drinking and washing himself.

Meanwhile Wah Shin began to demonstrate his position in that strangely

mixed company. In nearly no time he had steaks broiling on the coals,

the savory odor of which made Hank Tims, the old guide, take long

inhalations with great enjoyment.

Apart from meat there was an abundance of other food in this strange

camp, so that in a very short time Wah Shin, with Ike's aid, had a most

excellent supper spread on a table consisting of two roughly-hewn cedar

slabs, supported at either end by a square stationary stone, that had

been placed there by the original but unknown cave dwellers.

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