ALL ABOARD!
The day of departure had actually come at last. It was a beautiful
morning, with a brisk, cool breeze sending white clouds scudding
through the blue above, while the Columbia's broad surface was broken
into choppy waves.
The boys' luggage--there wasn't so very much of it--lay piled in a
corner. Guns and hunting knives gleamed brightly wherever stray beams
of sunlight found their polished surfaces.
Just a few hours more! Jack Conroy stared rather gloomily around. The
cozy cabin had never looked more inviting; strange how it seemed to
have improved since the moment they decided to leave it. Dave, resting
easily, with his feet stretched upon a chair, was busy scribbling
something in his note-book. All the others were too excited and eager
to stay in one place very long. They walked up and down, talking
in low tones, making a tremendous effort to appear unconcerned, but
without great success.
"Let's go over by the bluff," remarked Bob, presently. "Coming,
fellows?"
"Guess you expect to see the 'Osprey' take wing and fly away," said
Jack.
Leaving the literary boy struggling heroically with the muse, the rest
walked out, kicking up the yellow leaves which were thickly strewn
about.
For a long time they sat on a convenient log, their eyes often turning
toward the "Osprey," whose black hull and tapering masts glowed one
moment in light, then became cold and gray in the swiftly-flying
shadows that skimmed across the landscape.
"Hi, hi--hello!"
Pete Colliver's tremendous voice suddenly reached their ears, and, upon
turning quickly, they saw the youth approaching, with another lad a bit
shorter lazily bringing up in the rear.
"Well, by Jove, it's Jimmy--Jimmy of Sellade!" cried Bob, shading his
eyes from the sun's bright glare.
"So it is," agreed Tim. "Oh, joy! Cheer up, Jacky; Jimmy's comin'.
Guess he's heard all about the--er--er--Jabberwock, too."
"An' I don't care if he has," grunted Jack.
The crowd had made the acquaintance of Jimmy some time before. As he
came from Sellade, a town where the Columbia River steamers made a
landing, they often referred to him as "Jimmy of Sellade." He, like his
friend Pete, was a stocky, heavily-built lad, immensely strong, but
clumsy and slow.
Jimmy's features were remarkably plain, while his expression changed
about as often as that of an Egyptian Sphynx--at least, Sam Randall
voiced this opinion.
"I hearn tell as you was a-leavin', fellers," exclaimed Jimmy, as he
came within speaking distance, "an' I says to meself, 'I'll git over
an' give 'em the hand-shake all 'round.'"
"Good boy!" said Bob, approvingly.
Pete Colliver was grinning broadly. He gave a loud chuckle, and poked
his chum in the ribs.
"Mebbe they'd like to have ye as a guide, Jimmy," he said.
"I guess not," returned Jimmy, dryly. "I couldn't work fur nothin'
less'n fifty cents a day; an' it might be a corkin' hard job ter help
'em lug the stuff they gits."
Dick felt sure that Jimmy's expression changed for the fraction of a
second; therefore he scowled fiercely at Jack, and winked significantly.
"Whar's the fat un?" asked Jimmy, abruptly.
"Guess he's havin' some more inspershuns," said Pete; "but the big
feller here says as how nobody else ever ketches it."
"Eh!" Jimmy gave a start. "What's them?"
"It isn't 'them,' it's 'it,'" gurgled Jack, "eh, Tommy? Near grub time,
you say? Good! Yes, Jimmy, my lad, this afternoon--see here, Timmy, if
you try to make a haystack out o' me again, maybe only six boys will
go!"
Jack brushed away the bunches of tall grass which rested on his
shoulder, punched Sam because he happened to be nearest, and answered
the hail which came at that moment from Booney.
Some of the lads found it rather difficult to eat breakfast, but Dave
Brandon wasn't among the number. There was a feeling of suppressed
excitement which he didn't seem to share; even Bob was glad when the
meal was over.
"I expect Captain Slater at any moment," said Uncle Stanley. "He told
me he would surely be here."
"To think of the Cap actually takin' the trouble to see us off,"
murmured Tim; "ain't it odd?"
"And Jimmy of Sellade, too," laughed Dick. "Our cup of joy is brimming
over."
In another half hour, Tommy, glancing out the window, espied the
lumberman and former steamboat captain headed across the clearing, and
the crowd, at a nod from Uncle Stanley, rushed out.
Captain Slater was stout, heavy-featured, gray-bearded, authoritative
in manner, and quick to take offense.
"Rah, rah, rah for Cap Slater!" yelled Jack. "Now, boys--one, two,
three!"
"Rah, rah, rah!" howled a chorus.
Their lusty yells brought Pete Colliver and Jimmy around the men's
cabin on a run.
The lumberman came striding over, the effect of walking a considerable
distance at a rapid rate causing him to mop his brow with a huge red
handkerchief.
"Wal, my hearties!"--he greeted them in a gruff, heavy voice. "Actually
ready to git--actually! Howdy, Lovell! Sorry to see 'em go, ain't
ye?--declar' to thunder I am; an' that's somethin' Jere Slater never
thought he'd be."
"Oh, we knew you would, all right," said Jack, with a grin.
"An' they tell me yer a-goin' with Don Mason! A good, likely young
skipper, that!"
"Hello, old feller!"
Pete's voice rose above the captain's.
"Run along!" growled Slater, turning sharply at the sound, and eyeing
the lad with a scowl. "Thought I know'd that voice. Both o' ye kin
toddle."
"So we kin, when we gits ready, Cap'n," retorted Pete, calmly; "an' we
ain't ready yit, eh, Jimmy?"
"I reckon not!" answered Jimmy, defiantly.
"If ye could only tote them perwerse young lubbers far away, an' lose
'em, ye'd be doin' the community a thunderin' big sarvice," growled the
captain.
"'Tain't me an' Jim's fault if we ain't a-goin', old feller," chuckled
Pete; "we asked 'em." Then, unmindful of Mr. Lovell's presence, he
added, witheringly, "Sich a wonderful lot o' dubs they is, too! Think
nobody ain't good nuff fur 'em, mebbe! Oh, yes, they is the goods, all
right!"
"I don't think," sniffed Jimmy.
"Can't wrastle! Don't even know when they's sized up ter beat the band."
"Shows how much good sense they've got not to want to have yer along,"
remarked Slater. "I seen ye a-hangin' 'round me camp twice this week,
an' that's twice too much. An' now, lads," he added, turning toward the
others, "ye have Jere Slater's best wishes, an' I only hopes--"
"They bags a hull lot o' game," broke in Pete. A most astonishing
grimace distorted his face. "Them mountains is full o'--o'--all kinds
o' waluable warmints an' sich like. If you an' me, Cap'n, could only
git a crack at sumphin, eh?"
"What's a-gittin' inter the feller's top-piece?" asked Slater, with a
wondering stare. "Never yit seen anything human put on sich a face as
that--it's nuff to hurt a man's eyes fur keeps; mine is a-blinkin' now."
The hour for leaving had arrived. Presently the party began walking
toward the boys' cabin.
Even Jack felt his nerves tingling with excitement. He gave a sigh of
relief when their stuff had been carried outside, then turned for a
final look at the cozy interior.
"Makes me feel kind of blue," he confided to Tommy. "We've certainly
had a dandy time here--did you speak, Mr. Lovell?"
"I was saying," remarked the lumberman, with a smile, "that our
friend"--he nodded toward Dave--"will no doubt find a great deal of
interest to write about."
"Dave Brandon's wonderful work will come out in forty volumes,"
chuckled Tim, who had overheard. "Why, Uncle Stanley, you don't know
how fine life in a lumber camp really is until you've read what he has
to say about it."
At the edge of the bluff Bob gave a loud yell, the others chiming in.
An answering hail came from the "Osprey." A sailor was soon seen
jumping into a boat which swung astern. He cast off the lines and began
to row ashore.
A zigzag road led down by easy stages to the water. By the time they
reached it, with Pete and Jimmy straggling along in the rear, the boat
was bobbing up and down near the sawmills.
A number of the men came out to bid the boys good-bye, so, for several
minutes, the seven were kept busy shaking hands and responding to their
hearty good wishes.
A pleasant smell of water was in the air. The breeze had freshened,
coming in strong puffs which sent wicked little waves hissing and
breaking over the beach. Great logs near shore moved sluggishly,
sometimes entirely submerged by the rollers.
Everything but the weapons was hurled carelessly into the bottom of
the boat. Dave, Jack, Tom Clifton and Tim stumbled aboard the rocking
craft, the tall boy, of course, tripping over almost every parcel.
"Ho for the 'Osprey'!" yelled Tim. "Bye, bye, Uncle Stanley and Cap'n
Slater an' everybody!"
There was much waving of hands and handkerchiefs; a loud chorus of
shouts--then the rowlocks rattled, while the measured dip of the blades
sent the heavily laden craft slowly ahead.
"I say, old feller--Slater!"
The gruff captain frowned at Colliver's upturned face, but something
in the lad's expression chased it immediately away, and, as he felt a
strong tug at his sleeve, he obeyed the significant wink that Pete gave
him, and stepped aside.
"Wal?" he asked, curtly.
Pete's eyes ran swiftly over the group. They were far too intent upon
watching the departing boat to pay any attention to him.
"Wal?" repeated Slater, impatiently, shaking his arm loose.
"If ye know'd as much as I do, old feller," answered Pete, in a most
impressive manner, "ye wouldn't be standin'' here doin'' nothin'." He
laid a finger warningly on his lips. "No yer wouldn't."
"What d'ye mean?" growled the captain, in a husky whisper.
"Jist this!"
Pete drew himself up on tiptoe, spoke earnestly into the lumberman's
ear, and watched, with a peculiar grin, the look of amazement which
gradually overspread his ruddy face.
"'Tain't--'tain't possible!" murmured Captain Slater, bringing out his
red handkerchief again. "D'ye expect me to believe anything like that,
ye lubber? Don't ye do no jokin' with me."
"Joke nothin'! An' some o' yer men knows it, too. Jimmy, here--"
Pete suddenly stopped, as Sam Randall turned toward him, while the
captain, mopping his forehead furiously, walked toward the group.
"There goes Dave!" cried Bob.
The stout boy was seen clambering upon the deck of the vessel. The
others soon joined him. Then the boat began to cut the water again,
and, within a few minutes, reached shore.
The three boys took their places.
The brawny oarsman had no sentiment in his composition; he only
wanted to get through his task in the shortest possible time; so his
passengers soon found themselves bobbing up and down, with the deep
green waves foaming hard against the boat.
As it swung alongside the "Osprey," Sam Randall answered the yell which
came from his chums, grabbed hold of a line and climbed aboard.
Presently all were together again. Their search for Wanatoma's gold
mine was to begin.