HOW THE GREAT NUGGET NEARLY COST THE BRADFORDS DEAR
The lump of gold which Lucky had declared was as big as his head had
not yet been secured, and the likelihood that many prospectors would
come in as soon as the rivers were fordable caused Uncle Will to
undertake this excursion at an early day. The Stik indicated that the
treasure lay in the valley of the Kah Sha River above its junction
with Alder Creek. As the creek was the principal stream above that
point, just as the Missouri River carries far more water than the upper
Mississippi, it seemed probable that there would be little difficulty,
even at this season of flood, in ascending the upper river-valley.
It was a cool, invigorating morning on which the Bradfords began their
quest. The mountains about them wore below the snow-line the soft
green of spring vegetation, while round their summits a few fleecy
clouds vied with the snow in brightness. The Indian boy was left in
charge of the camp,--an arrangement which he accepted without visible
disappointment,--and the gold-hunters proceeded down the brawling
creek, walking with difficulty over loose pebbles of quartz, granite,
and slate. Occasionally Uncle Will picked up a stone and examined it
through a magnifying-glass for traces of the precious metals.
Having reached the river after walking nearly a mile, they turned to
the left up its valley, and soon, owing to the boulders below, were
obliged to clamber along the hillsides. Few trees were to be seen, but
there was a profusion of low bushes and plants on every sunny slope.
Often in shaded places they crossed old snowdrifts which promised to
last the summer through. Lucky led the way, picking the best path by a
sort of instinct.
The hills became more and more precipitous. Great bluffs of gravel
alternated with rocky walls, and often it was difficult to maintain a
foothold. While crossing the face of one of the bluffs, Mr. Bradford
met with an adventure which, as he afterwards declared, almost turned
his hair white. The rest of the party had passed the declivity near its
top by digging their feet and sticks into the soft gravel, while he had
lingered to secure a blue forget-me-not which grew below him.
When he turned to follow the others, they were out of sight around
the shoulder of the hill, and he could see nothing to mark their path
across the bluff. He had descended fifty feet or more, and since there
appeared no reason for scrambling up again, he began to advance at
that level. Perhaps a third of the bluff had been crossed slowly and
carefully when, without warning, he encountered a gravel of different
character. Instead of being soft and loose, it was now compact, firmly
bedded, and so steeply inclined that it offered not the slightest
foothold. The moment Mr. Bradford's foot struck this hard gravel he
slipped and fell, but as he did so he drove his staff firmly into the
slope. By this means he was able to stay himself temporarily.
He now felt carefully about for a support for his feet, but the
crumbling pebbles rolled away with every movement. However, he
discovered a projecting stone which seemed able to bear some weight,
and this relieved the strain upon his hands and arms. And now he
shouted as loudly as possible, hoping that his friends would hear.
It was a perilous situation. Below him for a hundred and fifty feet
the gravel was of the same hard, deceptive consistency. He could
see that it ended abruptly at least fifty feet above the little
stream, and rightly conjectured that this interval was occupied by a
perpendicular precipice of rock. What lay at the bottom he shuddered
to imagine,--boulders, sharp rocks, at best a rough gravel-bed! And
he could move neither hand nor foot; while, as if in mockery of his
plight, the pebbles kept bounding and rattling merrily down the
terrible slope below him, leaping out into space at last as if it were
a pleasant pastime.
Again and again he shouted, and now he was gladdened by an answering
shout, and saw his brother hastening along the bluff above, followed by
Lucky, David, and Roly.
"Quick, Will," he cried; "I can't hold out much longer."
Uncle Will grasped the situation in a twinkling. "Has any one some
twine?" he asked.
"I have," answered David, quickly producing a small ball of it from his
pocket.
"Tie the walking-sticks together, then, and don't lose an instant.
Roly, run to the top of the bluff and see if you can cut a tall
poplar." With these words Uncle Will hastened to work his way down the
face of the bluff toward his brother, while Lucky ran down to the point
where Mr. Bradford had found the flower, and thence followed his course
as far as he could out across the bare gravel. He was able to approach
much nearer the imperilled man than was Uncle Will, who came upon the
hard surface before he had covered half the distance, and could go no
farther.
Indeed, the Indian was within a yard of Mr. Bradford and kicking one
last foothold in the treacherous bank preparatory to reaching out for
him when, to the horror of all, the stone upon which the white man
stood gave way. The sudden wrench tore the stick also from its place.
Having thus lost all support, the unfortunate man at once slipped and
slid and rolled toward the brink of the precipice. He was beyond human
aid. Another moment, and, in spite of his frantic efforts to clutch at
the shelving bank, he dashed over the edge of the rock and passed out
of sight amid a shower of small stones dislodged by his fall.
There is something indescribably frightful in the sight of a strong man
thus powerless to avert his own destruction, and when the victim is a
father or brother the horror is intensified a hundred-fold. Uncle Will
groaned and shut his eyes.
But he was a man of action, and quickly recovering himself he ran back
along the hill with Lucky and David until they could descend to the
stream, up which they made their way with reckless haste. Lucky was
the most nimble; and as he scrambled to the top of a boulder which had
obstructed his view ahead, his usual stolidity gave way to a glad cry.
Mr. Bradford lay at the foot of the cliff upon a great bank of snow.
But he lay there so still and lifeless that the rescuers anxiously
hastened to his side. They were immediately joined by Roly, whose
face was pale with dread. Mr. Bradford had either struck the cliff in
his descent, or had been struck by one of the stones which fell with
him, for blood was flowing from a cut in the forehead, and he was
unconscious. Uncle Will washed the blood from the wound, and wetting
his handkerchief in the cold water of the stream, soon coaxed back the
life.
"Well, Charley," said he, in a tone of intense satisfaction as he saw
his eyes open, "that was the closest call you ever had, but you're
coming through all right." And Mr. Bradford did. He had been stunned
and shaken, but not seriously injured, and after an hour's rest was
able to proceed.
They had not much farther to go. Lucky, who had keenly observed all
landmarks, soon halted in the rocky river-bottom and began to search
carefully among the boulders. A few minutes later he called out, "Big
nuggit here!" and pointed to a sort of knob projecting from a large
rock in the stream. Uncle Will hastened to the spot and saw at a glance
that this knob was an almost solid mass of yellow metal. But he was too
careful a man to accept first appearances, and brought the microscope
to bear.
"Ah!" said he, and his face grew long, "it's fool's gold, after
all,--just a big chunk of iron pyrites."
"Why, it looks just like gold!" declared Roly, coming up. "I never saw
iron of that color."
"Very likely not," said his uncle. "This isn't iron in its pure state,
but combined with sulphur. Look through the microscope and you'll see
that the metal is crystallized. You won't find gold in that shape."
Lucky did not comprehend this explanation, but he read the
disappointment in the faces of the others. To make him understand,
Uncle Will tapped the blade of his knife and said, "Iron--no good,"--a
simple form of expression which the Indian easily interpreted. He too
showed genuine disappointment, for he had intended to do a kindness to
Uncle Will.
"Well," said David, with at least a show of resignation, "I suppose
there's nothing to do but retrace our steps."
"I don't care to retrace all of mine," said Mr. Bradford, whose pale
face wore a smile beneath its bandage.
"Oh!" exclaimed his brother, "but those weren't steps! You didn't take
a single step in the whole two hundred feet! The first fifty you slid,
the next hundred you rolled, and the last fifty you flew, and we won't
ask you to do it over again."
Indeed, they were all so thankful at Mr. Bradford's escape that the
nugget was hardly given a thought, and on the whole it was a happy
party which returned to Alder Creek that evening.