THE ENEMY APPEARS.
On Wednesday afternoon Len stopped work a little earlier than the
others, though it was quite dusk, and left the mine to get supper.
Turning his gaze down the cañon, the moment he came to the mouth of the
tunnel, he saw three men on horseback riding up the trail nearly a mile
away. It was merely by good chance that he happened to catch a glimpse
of them, for had he been a moment later they would have been out of
sight, not to reappear until the ford of the creek was reached, which
was only a few yards beyond the foot of the Aurora dump.
Dropping his shovel he ran back and reported, whereupon all hands
hastened to the mouth of the tunnel, and lay down behind a rough sort of
wall of loose rocks which had been heaped up in front of the cabin in
clearing the space around the door.
Ten or fifteen minutes passed, and the twilight was fast becoming dense
in the cañon, though on the mountain-tops a full blaze of light glowed
strong and red, bringing out every glorious feature of the white-headed
old peaks.
Soon was heard the stumbling clatter, not loud, yet distinct enough, of
horses’ shodden feet on the stony path, and, as the riders came nearer,
the faint sound of human voices. A moment after this the three figures
came into view, riding cautiously through the ford, peering right and
left, with guns in readiness, as though fearful of ambuscades. A few
steps further took them out of sight behind the jutting headland of the
Aurora dump.
Then came sounds denoting that the jumpers had dismounted and were
unsaddling. The clatter of the heavy wooden stirrups echoed along the
rocky walls of the narrow gulch as the saddles were flung down.
After a short interval of silence, it became plain, by the rattle of
rolling stones, that the invaders were charging up the dump. Instead of
trying to steal to the top, they sprang up as fast as they could
scramble.
“It’s evident,” whispered Sandy, “that they’re expectin’ to catch us in
that tunnel like a fox wi’ his ’earth’ stopped. But it’s a puir fox that
has na mair than one hole to his burrow!”
Sandy seemed to have hit it, for their first act, when Bob, Scotty and
Stevens had reached the crest, and found no one there, was to rush to
the door as though to shut it and fasten it.
Imagine their chagrin when they saw that it was already closed, and that
a great quantity of water was rushing out under the sill. They pointed
one another to it, as though asserting that nobody could work in a
tunnel which was as nearly flooded as that. Still, to make matters quite
sure, they began to heap great rocks at the door and kept at it until
no three giants, much less our not over stalwart friends, could have
forced it open.
It was vastly amusing to the spectators to see these men, who were more
distinguished for their laziness than for their energy, toil at the big
stones, and when, having made sure they’d secured full possession of the
place, they sat down and wiped their brows, Max and Len and Sandy
suddenly rose up and wished them good-evening.
“Thought you’d tree’d us in that hole, eh?” Len sings out with a
sneering laugh. “Not much! We’ve been waiting for you fellows half the
week. Why didn’t you come up Saturday night as you promised?”
Astounded and angry, the three ruffians hurled back a lot of brag and
bad language, the substance of which was that nobody dare come and take
back the Aurora.
They replied with a laugh, and went in with a parting shot in broad
Scotch: “It’s the life o’ an auld hat to be weel cockit.”
Morris had already sneaked into the house and was slicing bacon for
supper.
“I’ll lay low for the present, I reckon,” he said, “‘t wont do no harm,
and it may be worth something to let those fellows think you’re alone.”
A few moments later Sandy stepped out, and was amazed to find two of the
adversaries stealing up the bank beside the cabin.
His alarm brought Max and Len in a hurry, and when they found themselves
discovered the roughs retreated in great haste and a cloud of wrathful
phrases, while Max shouted: “Hereafter we shall be watching, and it wont
be healthy for any man to set foot on this side of the gulch.”
“Those men mean business, for sure,” Morris asserted, and added this
counsel: “We musn’t show ourselves any mor’n we can help, and especially
at night by the firelight. And it wouldn’t be a bad idea to make a
better breastwork when it gets so dark they can’t see what we’re
doing.”
“We might hang blankets on the wall along that side of the cabin, so
that no one could see to shoot through the chinks,” Len suggested.
“Yes, that’s a good scheme, and somebody must be on watch night and day
lest they play some trick on us. I don’t think they’ll shoot in the
daytime, but I’ll bet they’ll take the first chance at night they can
get. I tell you, gentlemen, not only your mine, but your _lives_ are at
stake in this yere scrimmage, and it’ll stand you in hand to take mighty
good care of ’em.”
This was from Morris and was sober talk, but seemed to be no less than
the truth, considering the character of the desperadoes.
Acting upon the suggestion, in his prompt, quiet way, Max remarked that
he would take the first watch, and going to the door of the cabin which,
it will be remembered, looked down the cañon, and hence faced the
Aurora, opened it and started to pass out.
Before he could step across the threshold, a faint report rang out, not
loud nor sharp, for the air was too thin to let much noise be made, and
with an audible _ping_ a bullet splintered the log over the door.
Max dropped so quickly his chums thought for an instant he must have
been hurt, but he shouted “Keep back! Keep back!” and at once began to
wriggle forward under cover of the wall toward the brink of the dump.
Dropping on hands and knees they followed him, and a few seconds later
all four were lying behind the pile of stones, peering out into the
gloom.
Nothing could be seen, or even heard, for a time, but presently muttered
talking was detected on the other hillock and our friends concluded that
the shot did not mean an attack, but had been fired, sharpshooter
fashion, when Max exposed himself in the brightly lighted doorway. The
enemy’s camp had evidently been made down behind the shelter of the
dump, as was shown by the light reflected from the fire, but neither
the blaze nor its kindlers were visible, so that the compliment of the
shot could not have been returned had our boys felt so disposed.
“I make no doot they’re watching us as shairp as we’re peerin’ at them,”
whispered Sandy; “and the sooner we improve our fortifications, the
better.”
Max watched until midnight, then crept softly to where Morris was
stretched upon the cabin floor and asked him to take his place; but
nothing disturbed them, and the next morning two of the boys went to
their work in the mine, leaving two outside on guard. These improved
their time in strengthening the breastwork and in curtaining with
blankets that wall of the cabin. In the afternoon they exchanged places
with the men in the tunnel.
The jumpers were seen about the Aurora, but nothing was said to them.
They broke down the mine door, and penetrated the tunnel a short
distance, but soon returned, discouraged by the wetness within.
The night passed quietly and Friday morning went by without any
incident. About the middle of the afternoon, while Len and Sandy were
outside, Old Bob and Scotty came to the edge of the Aurora dump, and
held aloft a pole with a handkerchief, supposed to be white, tied upon
it, which they waved toward the cabin.
“What do you mean by that?” Len sung out, for he and Sandy happened to
be on duty as sentinels.
“Flag o’ truce,” Bob yelled back. “One o’ you fellers come down in the
hollow and meet me. I want to talk. Leave yer gun behind. I aint got no
arms, you see. Will you come?”
“I reckon. Hold on, I’ll see my partner!”
Len lighted a little lamp and disappeared into the mine, whence he
returned in five minutes. Max and Morris came as far as the door, but
did not show themselves.
“All right,” Len called out, as he blew out his lamp and climbed over
the breastwork. “Come down in the hollow if you want to talk.”
Old Bob moved clumsily down from the Aurora to meet him, while Sandy
perched himself on the wall and Bob’s friends stood behind him on their
own knoll.
A FLAG OF TRUCE.