THE GREAT NUGGET, AND HOW UNCLE WILL HEARD OF IT
"Let me see, Charles," he began; "I was at Rainy Hollow when I wrote to
you, wasn't I?"
"Yes," replied Mr. Bradford.
"And I told you of the rumors of rich strikes about two hundred miles
in on this trail?"
"Yes."
"Well, my intention was to go straight to that spot with all possible
speed; but as Robbie Burns puts it,
'The best-laid schemes o' mice an' men
Gang aft a-gley.'
I met with an accident, and it's fortunate that I did, for when I
reached this place yesterday I found that the stories of gold had
leaked out, and already a well equipped party of more than thirty men
had just landed here. To be exact, there are thirty-six of them; and
owing to the absolute secrecy which they maintain regarding their
destination, they are already known as the Mysterious Thirty-six. I
have tried to induce two or three of them to talk, but they declared
they knew no more about their plans than I did. Only their leader
knows where they are going, and what they are to do. Now, I am
perfectly convinced that these men are bound for the very spot I wrote
you about, and we must get ahead of them, if we are to have the pick
of the claims. They are camped now about three miles up the valley,
waiting for a party of Indians who are to help them with their sleds.
"It's fortunate I had to return to the coast, for you might not have
realized the necessity of outstripping them. Besides that, I have
cached most of my goods a hundred and forty miles up the trail, and
come back empty-handed, so for that distance Long Peter and I can help
you with your outfit, and we can give them a good race."
"Won't that be fun?" cried Roly, excitedly. "I should just like to give
them the slip!"
David had a better idea of what it meant. "You won't feel so much like
racing, I guess," said he, "after a few miles of it. But, Uncle," he
added, "did you say you had cashed your goods? You haven't sold out,
have you?"
"Oh, no!" answered Uncle Will. "The word I used was 'cached,' which, in
the language of the trail, signifies that I left my goods temporarily
beside the way. A 'cache,' if we consider the French word 'cacher,'
would mean goods concealed or covered up; but the idea of concealment
is not prominent in the miner's use of the term, and in fact there is
generally no attempt at concealment. It would be death in this country
to be convicted of stealing such supplies, and few Indians or whites
would venture to disturb them."
"I understand now," said David, "and beg pardon for interrupting. And
now what was the accident you mentioned?"
Uncle Will took a few strong puffs on his pipe, and blew the smoke away
in rings meditatively. Presently he proceeded.
"I won't stop to tell you much about my journey, for you will soon pass
over the same ground. Rainy Hollow, where I wrote the letter, is about
sixty miles from here, near the summit of Chilkat Pass. I pushed on
from that point through a grand mountainous country. Day after day I
trudged through snowy valleys and over frozen rivers until I reached
Dalton's trading-post, the location of which, about a hundred and
twenty miles from the coast, you have doubtless noticed on the maps.
"There I rested a day, and fell into conversation with a young German,
Al King by name, who told me he had spent all of last summer in
prospecting on the coast, and had recently explored the region around
Dalton's. He had taken a claim on a stream called Shorty Creek, about
thirty miles away and somewhat to the west of the main trail, and
thought a man could make about ten dollars a day there, working alone;
but I have no doubt, from what he told me of the character of the
gulch, that operations on a larger scale would pay extremely well,
and I resolved to turn aside for a look at the place on my way north.
I convinced myself that he had heard nothing of the rumors which had
brought me into the region, and had not visited the spot to which I was
going, and I thought it best to tell him nothing then, though I hope,
if all goes well, to do him a good turn later.
"After leaving Dalton's Post, we--that is, Long Peter and I--continued
as far as Klukshu Lake, the point at which we were to turn from the
main trail and make a flying trip over to Shorty Creek, which was about
fifteen miles distant by the winter route, I should judge.
"We were cooking our supper among the willows near the foot of the lake
when we heard the sound of a gun toward the north, followed by a cry.
We both jumped up and ran to the shore, in order to get a clear view
up the lake. Half a mile away near the east bank we could see what was
apparently a man lying on the ice, with a smaller person bending over
him, while a dog was running and barking around the two.
"On reaching the place, we found that the prostrate man was a young
Indian of the Stik tribe, whose village lies near Dalton's Post. His
younger brother, a lad of about fourteen, was with him. Long Peter
recognized them both.
"We saw at once that Lucky, the older one, had been shot. As we
afterward learned, he had left his shot-gun standing against a log on
the shore while he went out on the ice to fish. While he was cutting a
hole, the dog upset the gun and discharged it, and poor unlucky Lucky
had received most of the shot below the left knee.
"His small brother, who was called Coffee Jack, was trying to stanch
the flow of blood when we came up, and Lucky was quite coolly giving
directions. I bound a handkerchief tightly about the wound, and we
helped the unfortunate fellow to our camp, where we made him as
comfortable as possible. On the following day, I succeeded in picking
most of the shot out of his leg,--an operation which he bore with true
Indian fortitude. Then came the question of what to do with him.
"Long Peter was for leaving him right there in care of Coffee Jack. You
see, there's not much love lost between the Chilkats and the Stiks. The
two tribes used to be continually at war, for the Chilkats wouldn't
let the Stiks come out to the coast without a fight. And though the
presence of the whites prevents actual war at present, the members of
the rival tribes have very little to say to each other, remembering the
old feud.
"I was quite unwilling, however, to leave Lucky until I had assured
myself that his wound was healing properly, so we remained there
with him a week. At the end of that time, as all went well, I made
preparations to continue on the journey, intending to leave provisions
enough to last the two brothers until they could return to their
village, for they had with them, at the time of the accident, a very
small supply of dried salmon, and that was already consumed.
"There are two log shanties near the foot of Klukshu Lake. One was in
good repair, and the door was fastened with a padlock. I suppose some
white man--Dalton, perhaps--keeps supplies there. The other was open
to any one who cared to enter, and though the roof was gone, the hut
afforded fairly good shelter. Into this hut we carried Lucky, after
repairing the roof as well as we could, and cutting some firewood, for
it was intensely cold. With a good fire blazing in the centre of the
room and Coffee Jack at hand, there was no fear that Lucky would suffer
with cold, even though the mercury froze in the tube, as in fact it did
a little later in my pocket thermometer when I hung it on my tent-pole
one night.
"When all was ready, and Long Peter and I had packed our goods on
our sleds, I went into the hut to say good-by to the brothers. Lucky
beckoned me to come closer. When I had done so, Coffee Jack shut the
door behind me. I thought from their actions that they had something to
say, and didn't wish Long Peter to hear it, which proved to be the case.
"Having made sure that Peter was at a distance, Lucky said in a low
tone, 'You good man. You help me. You give me muck-muck. Now me help
you. Me find big nug--what you call 'em--nuggit--Kah Sha River--big as
my head--four moons. Me show you when snow go away--no find him now.'"
Here Roly interrupted to ask if Lucky's head was as big as four moons.
"Oh, no!" replied Uncle Will, smiling. "He meant that it was four
months ago when he found the big nugget. The only month the Indians
know is the period between one full moon and another, which is about
thirty days.
"After some further conversation with Lucky," continued Uncle Will, "I
made out that he had discovered, not a loose nugget, but what I judge
is a remarkable outcropping of gold ore in the solid rock. He had no
means of breaking out any of the rock, and so had nothing by which
to prove his statements, but I have every reason to believe him. Now
the Kah Sha River is the stream into which Shorty Creek flows, so the
discovery must be in the neighborhood of King's claim. Lucky said that
the snow was very deep in the gorge where the nugget is, and it would
be hidden for two moons. He promised to meet me at the proper season,
and go with me to the spot.
"Long Peter and I then started on our journey; but we had gone only a
short distance toward the lake when, in descending a steep bank, all
the upright supports on one side of my sled gave way, some of them
being split beyond repair, and the iron braces broken. The uprights on
the other side were badly wrenched and weakened at the same time, and
further progress that day was out of the question. We therefore took
everything back to the hut, and cached the goods there. I found it
impossible to repair the sled. It was an old one which I never ought to
have bought, but I was in a hurry when I started into the country, and
took the first one I saw.
"There was nothing to do but return for a strong sled. I could get
none at the trading-post, and so came all the way back, and the more
readily, because I knew it was time you reached here if you were
coming. Long Peter's sled we brought with us, and now I must go over to
Dyea or Skagway and get one for myself. Then we shall be in first-rate
trim."
"Well, boys," said Mr. Bradford, as Uncle Will finished, "it looks as
if we had work ahead, and plenty of it. Better turn in now and get all
the sleep you can."
The boys accordingly rose and departed toward their tent. David crawled
into that small dwelling first, and Roly handed him a rubber blanket,
which he doubled and laid on the canvas floor. Then a down quilt was
similarly folded and placed upon the rubber blanket. The heavy woolen
blankets followed, and finally the other quilt. Into this warm nest the
boys crept, after removing their shoes and coats and rolling the latter
into the form of a pillow. Two minutes later they were sound asleep.