THE FIRST PROSPECT-HOLE
It was now the first week in May. The snow was entirely gone from the
lowlands, melted by the breath of the chinook. The creek was swollen
to twice its normal size, and had overflowed its banks in many places,
bursting its icy bonds and stranding the ice-cakes high among the
bushes. As for the river, that, too, had freed itself, and its muddy
current was rising inch by inch. On the mountains they could almost see
the snow-line creep higher and higher each day, and soon on the lesser
heights no snow remained except in the gullies, giving to the mountains
a streaked aspect.
Robins and song-sparrows put in an appearance, and ducks were
everywhere. On the very first warm day, bees, flies, and a mosquito or
two were thawed into life, and hummed and buzzed in the sunshine as
if there had never been any winter. In every sandy bluff and bank the
ground-squirrels, beautifully mottled little creatures, came out of
their holes, and sat up on their haunches as stiff as a ramrod, with
their fore-paws demurely folded on their breasts, and sunned themselves
and cast curious glances at their new neighbors.
Purple crocuses blossomed in abundance, and everywhere grass was
growing green and buds were starting. Spring had come!
"What do you think of a prospecting trip?" asked Uncle Will of Pennock,
one morning. "I believe we can sink a shaft now."
"That's a good idea," said Pennock. "The frost ought to be out of the
upper soil by this time. If it isn't, we can thaw it with fire."
"The one thing I don't like about this place," continued Uncle
Will, "is that the creek seems to be deserted. We heard rumors of
extraordinary richness here, and if there's any truth in them, there
ought to be some signs of life hereabouts."
"That's so," admitted Pennock. "It was Cannon who advised the Cap'n
to leave a few men here. He said he sunk a hole last year and found
gold enough to make it worth while to explore more fully. What really
brought our party into this country, though, was a report of a rich
strike up above. That's where the rest of them have gone; but I don't
know just how far it is."
"Well," said Uncle Will, "the stories I heard may have been misleading.
We'll see what there is here anyhow, and take our chances. By the way,
there's another creek to the southeast yonder, where you see that gully
in the mountain. We might send a party there."
To this proposition Pennock assented. Accordingly Mr. Bradford and
Roly, with Large, Nichols, and the two Indians, set off toward the
gully, which was about six miles distant, while Uncle Will, David,
Pennock, Reitz, Adair, and Johnson started for the headwaters of the
creek beside which they had camped,--a journey of four miles. We may as
well follow the fortunes of the latter party.
There was no trail worthy of the name, but once or twice hoof-marks
were discovered, probably made by Cannon's pack horse the previous
season. Sometimes they entered forests of standing spruce and poplar,
either growing or fire-killed, and now it was a district of fallen
trees, where it was almost impossible to advance, from which they
emerged with a sigh of relief into some open grassy meadow near the
stream, where walking was pleasant and easy. Presently they ascended
a clay bluff a hundred feet high, skirting its edge where it was free
from timber. From this vantage ground they could see the snowy peaks
of the Dasar-dee-ash Mountains, thirty miles to the south, on the
other side of which lay the claims they had taken in April. Uncle Will
examined the fine clay of the bluff, and gave it as his opinion that it
would make excellent bricks and pottery.
In an hour and a half, they came to the foot-hills, where the stream
fell noisily over a bed of boulders in a pretty glen. A sharp lookout
was kept, but no signs of Cannon's work were seen. At length it was
decided to sink a hole on the south bank where a bed of gravel had been
deposited by the water. From the nature of the rocks about them, they
concluded that bed-rock was not far below the surface. Picks, shovels,
and a gold-pan had been brought, and the men took turns at the digging.
It was hard work, for many large stones were encountered frozen into
their places, and these could only be pried loose at risk of a bent
pick. When a depth of twelve inches was reached, Pennock filled the
pan with a sample of the gravel, and took it to the stream, while the
others, except Adair, who was swinging the pick, gathered around him,
eager to know the result of the test. Not a color was found, but there
was black sand and in it two small rubies.
The discovery of the rubies did not seem to offset the disappointment
of the men at finding no gold,--a fact at which David wondered, until
his uncle informed him that those gems were quite commonly found in the
Northwest, and such small ones were of little value. David resolved,
however, to look about for himself, and, in a mound of sand thrown up
by ants, he found a dozen or more, some of them a little larger than
the ones in the pan. These he carefully picked out, and put in his
match-box for safe keeping.
Meanwhile, the work in the prospect-hole went steadily on. At a depth
of two feet a small color was found, by which time it was noon, and
work ceased for an hour. By the middle of the afternoon the hole was
three feet and a half deep, and solid rock was gained, though toward
the last so much water entered that digging was difficult, and bailing
had to be resorted to. At the bed-rock, where all their hopes rested,
were found a few insignificant colors,--nothing more.
Uncle Will, usually so cheerful, was quite downcast at this result.
He had heard the rumors of gold from men whom he trusted, and was
obliged to conclude that they had themselves been misled. Indeed, it
seemed to be one of those instances in which a very small tale, by long
travelling and frequent repetition, becomes strangely magnified and
distorted. The Thirty-six had detached few men here because the story,
as they had heard it, had located the wealth in a different place.
Still there might be a good deal of gold on this creek, for a single
hole is usually not enough to determine the character of a gulch. At
least one more shaft must be sunk where the gravel was deeper, before
all hope need be abandoned. Even if worst came to worst, there still
remained the Alder Creek claims, and Lucky's nugget.
It turned out that the other party, under Mr. Bradford, had met with
even less success. Rubies they had found, but not a single color of
gold. However, they had not reached bed-rock at the end of the first
day.
Uncle Will and his companions returned to the cabin a few minutes
before the others. Seated on the ground outside the door, they found an
Indian family, consisting of an old bent squaw, two young women, and a
thin, weak-looking young man. The old squaw, evidently the mother of
the others, waved her arms in token of welcome as soon as she saw the
white men. Then, touching the young man's breast she exclaimed, "Him
sick, you savvy?"
"Sick, is he?" repeated Uncle Will, looking at the pinched features and
wasted frame.
"Sick--yis--you savvy [understand]?" said the squaw.
"Consumption," said Uncle Will to David. "It's very prevalent among
the Indians, and carries off hundreds." Then turning to the old Indian
woman he added, "I savvy,--very bad, very sick. Have some tea?"
"Tea! Yis, yis," answered she, eagerly, for tea is considered a great
luxury by the Indians, and this family, dressed in ragged, cast-off
clothing, seemed too abjectly poor to buy anything at the trading-post.
Indeed, the only food they had was dried salmon, though the man carried
an antiquated shot-gun.
Uncle Will made some tea, and the natives drank it delightedly in the
cabin, which they entered without invitation as soon as the door was
opened.
It must be explained here that the door was fastened by a sliding pole
which ran some distance along the inner side of one of the front logs,
and was held in place by wooden pegs. The pole was shoved across the
door by means of a knife-blade inserted from the outside between two
logs at a crevice left for the purpose five feet from the door. In this
manner the door had been locked that morning when the two parties set
off. Doubtless the Indians had tried the door; but finding it secure,
and seeing no means of opening it, they had not ventured to break in,
but waited for the return of the miners.
Both Uncle Will and Pennock realized the desirability of keeping the
secret of the lock from the visitors, and this they attempted to do
when the door was opened, Uncle Will attracting the attention of the
Indians, while Pennock softly stole up to the crevice and pried back
the bar.
But though the natives did not see the door opened, they intended none
the less to know how it was done, and that was why they so promptly
entered the cabin with the others. However, the white men thought it
best to say nothing, for it might be that they would drink their tea
and go out without noticing the door. Pennock, who was a Colorado man
and had no liking for the "redskins," kept an eye on them from the
moment of their entrance.
The old squaw, after a quick inventory of the contents of the cabin,
glanced furtively toward the door, and at once discovered the long
bar, but she did not know exactly how it was managed. So presently
she shuffled unconcernedly up to the front of the cabin, and, turning
about, faced the centre of the room. To all appearances, she was idly
leaning against the logs, but both Pennock and David noticed that her
hands behind her back were busily fumbling with the bar, and moving it
cautiously back and forth. The "game was up." Knowing the existence of
the bar, and its height from the ground, she would easily discover from
the outside the crevice through which it was controlled.
"The rascally old witch of an Injun!" muttered Pennock through his
teeth; but he knew it was of no use now to make a fuss. He broke out
violently, however, when the visitors were gone and it was discovered
that a nearly empty butter-can outside the house had disappeared with
them.
"They're all sneak-thieves, every one of 'em," he declared angrily;
"and the worst of it is that the old squaw learned the secret of our
lock. I saw her fumbling round. Now we've got to leave somebody here
every time we go away. I'd just like to--!"
This sounded very much like the preface to a dire threat; but Mr.
Bradford, who had arrived some minutes previously, interrupted it by
observing that the Indians would not be likely to take food or clothing.
"No," said Uncle Will. "They'll make off with empty cans, or any
little thing they think won't be missed, but they wouldn't take goods
of value. That's too dangerous in this country. Besides, we've treated
them well, and they're pretty low-down creatures if they steal from us
now."
"All the same," said Pennock, "there was half an inch of good butter in
that can, and I was intending to make a coffee cup of it as soon as it
was empty. They're a shrewd lot, if they are dirty and ignorant. I hope
they've gone for good."
It was a vain hope. A little later, a column of smoke half a mile up
the trail northward showed that they had camped.