it, and began to smooth his pole, letting the raft drift away; and
though I begged and prayed of them to stop for me, they only laughed,
and let her get right into the current. It was life or death to me, as
I thought then," continued the stranger, "and I climbed along that shelf
and followed, shouting and telling them I was starving, and begging them
to throw me my knife back if they wouldn't take me aboard; but they only
laughed, and told me to go and hang myself. But I followed on as fast
as I could, right along to the opening yonder where it's so narrow that
I could speak to them close to; and though I knew they couldn't stop the
raft there, I thought they'd throw me my knife."
"And did they?" said the Cornishman.
"No. I was there just before them, and I shouted; but you can't hear
yourself speak there, the roar echoes so from the rocks. The next
minute they'd been swept by me so near I could almost have jumped on
board; and there I stood, holding on and reaching out so that I could
see them tear down through the rushing water. They'd took fright,
dropped their poles, and were down on their knees holding on, with the
raft twisting slowly round."
"Capsized?" cried Dallas.
"Drowned?" cried Abel.
"I could not see," continued the stranger. "I watched them till they
went into a sort of fog with a rainbow over it, and then I felt ready to
jump in and try to swim, or get drowned, for without my knife I felt
that all was over."
"Not drowned, then?" said Dallas.
"No, my son; them as is born to be hanged'll never be drowned," said the
big Cornishman grimly. "Look ye here, old chap, you'd better take this
toothpick; it's the one that the boss of that party who stole our raft
lost."
"Ah!" cried the stranger; "they stole your raft?"
"They did, my son, and it seems to me things aren't at all square, for
these here fellows are ready to do anything--from committing murder down
to stealing a knife. Why, they've even cheated death, or else they'd be
lying comfortably buried in the snow."
"Ha!" ejaculated Dallas, as he stood grasping his pole, and the raft
began to glide along.
"Yes, it is `Hah!' my son," said the Cornishman; "but I shouldn't wonder
if we came across a tree some day bearing fruit at the end of a hempen
stalk. I say, though, my son, is the river below there so dangerous as
you say?"
"Yes; it is a horrible fall, as far as I could see."
"Then hadn't you better stop ashore?"
"And starve?" said the man bitterly.
"You're ready to risk it, then?" said Dallas.
"I'd risk anything rather than stop alone in this horrible solitude,"
said the stranger excitedly.
"All right, then, my son. There's a spare pole. Set your pack down;
take hold, and come on."
The stranger did as he was told, and took the place pointed out.
"If it's as noisy as he says," continued the Cornishman, "there'll be no
shouting orders--it'll all be signs. So what you see me do you've got
to follow. Spit in your hands, all of you, and hold tight with your
feet. Stick to it, and we'll get through. We must; there's no other
way."
No one spoke in reply, but their companion's cheery way of meeting the
perils ahead sent a thrill of confidence through the party, as they
stood on the triangular raft, noting that the current was gradually
growing swifter as the rocky walls on either side closed in from being
hundreds of yards apart to as many feet, and the distance lessening
rapidly more and more.
It was horrible, but grand, and as the pace increased, a curious
sensation of intoxicating excitement attacked the party, whose senses
seemed to be quickened so that they could note the wondrous colours of
the rocks, the vivid green of the ferns and herbs which clustered in the
rifts and cracks, and the glorious clearness of the water.
So excited was the great fellow at the head of the raft that he raised
his pole, turned to look at his companions, and then pointed onward,
while moment by moment the great walls of rock seemed to close in upon
them as if to crush all flat.
Up to now their progress had been a swift glide, but as they approached
the narrow opening, which seemed not much more than wide enough to let
them pass, the raft began to undulate and proceed by leaps, each longer
than the last, while the water rippled over the side.
Then all at once the front portion--the apex of the elongated triangle--
rose as if at a leap, dipped again, and they were off with a terrific
rush in a narrow channel of rock, up whose sides the water rose as if to
escape the turmoil. Wave rose above wave, struggling to get onward;
there was the roar of many waters growing more deafening, and the raft
was tossed about like a straw, its occupants being forced to kneel and
try to fend her off from the sides. And now, to add to the horror,
turmoil, and confusion, they plunged at a tremendous speed into a bank
of churned up mist, dense as the darkest cloud, rushing onward in bounds
and leaps which made the raft quiver, till all at once Dallas, who was
near their captain, suddenly caught sight of a mass of rocks apparently
rising out of the channel right in their way.
The next moment there was a terrific shock, a rush of water, black
darkness, and everything seemed to be at an end.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
"THOSE BORN TO BE HANGED."
The preparations for fending the raft off the rocks that might be in
their way, or keeping it from the wall-like sides which overhung them,
were absurd; for as they were swept into the furious rapid, and whirled
and tossed about, each man instinctively dropped his pole to crouch down
and cling for dear life to the rough pieces of timber they had so
laboriously notched, nailed, and bound together.
The course of the river was extremely erratic, zigzagging through the
riven, rocky barrier which formed the ancient dam at the foot of the
lake; and one minute they were swept to right, the next to left, while
at every angle there was a whirlpool which threatened to suck them down.
Noise, darkness, the wild turmoil of tumbling waters, blinding mist, and
choking spray, strangled and confused the little crew, so that they
clung to the raft, feeling that all was over, and that they were about
to be plunged deep down into the bowels of the earth. Dallas was
conscious of wedging his toes between two of the timbers, clinging with
his left hand, and reaching over the bound-down sledges to grasp Abel's;
and then all seemed to be blank for a length of time that he could not
calculate. It might have been a minute--it might have been an hour; but
he held on to his cousin's hand, which clutched his in return in what
seemed to be a death-grip, till all at once they were shot out into the
bright sunshine, and were gliding at a tremendous rate down a
water-slide, with the water hissing and surging about them where they
knelt.
As soon as he could sweep the blinding spray from his eyes, Dallas
looked round in wonder, to find that all his companions were upon the
raft, and that the rocky walls on either side were receding fast as the
river opened out, while the rapid down which they plunged seemed quite
clear of rocks.
The deafening noise was dying out too, and as Dallas looked back at the
fast growing distant gap in the rock through which they had been shot,
he wondered that the raft should have held together with its freight,
and that they should still be there.
His brain seemed still to be buzzing with the confusion, when he was
conscious of some one beside him giving himself a shake like a great
water-dog and shouting:
"What cheer, there! Not dead yet. Are any of you?"
There was no reply--every one looking strained and oppressed; then,
without a word, the little party began to shake hands warmly, and the
big Cornishman shook his head.
"It was a rum un!" he exclaimed; "it was a rum un! Well, we're all
alive O, and if we do get any gold, you may all do as you like, but I
shall go back home some other way."
The straightforward naive way in which this was said seemed so absurd on
the face of it that the cousins could not refrain from smiling: but the
sight of a great mass of rock ahead dividing the swift stream into two,
and toward which the raft seemed to be rushing fast, made all turn to
seize their poles and fend it off from a certainty of wreck.
However, the poles were all probably being whirled round and round one
of the pools they had passed, like scraps of straw, and the shattering
of the raft seemed a certainty; but their big companion was a man of
resource. Seating himself upon the edge of the raft as it glided evenly
along, he waited with legs extended for the coming contact. His feet
touched the rock, and a vigorous thrust eased their craft off, the brave
fellow's sturdy limbs acting like strong buffers, so that there was only
a violent jerk, the raft swung round, and they went gliding on again.
The current was swift, but clear now from further obstacles, and hope
grew strong.
"I say, I call it grand!" cried one of the men. "We shall soon get
there if we keep on like this."
"Yes, but the sooner one of us takes a rope and jumps ashore, the
better. We must cut some fresh poles."
This was done at the first opportunity, Abel leaping on to the rocky
bank with a rope, as they glided by a spot where the forest of pines
came down close to them; and then, seizing his opportunity, he gave the
rope a turn round a small tree. There was a jerk, and the hemp
threatened to part; but it held, and the raft swung round and became
stationary as the rope was made fast.
The first proceeding was to wring out their garments, and the next to
examine the sledges, which had been so well made fast when loaded up
that they had not stirred; but some of the stores were damaged with
water.
"Can't help it," said Dallas cheerily. "Our lives are saved."
Something was done towards their drying by the warm sunshine, for this
came down brightly, though the aspect round was growing almost as wintry
as the country they had passed through higher up beyond the lake; and as
they gazed at the mountains, which they felt must lie somewhere near the
part for which they were aiming, it seemed as if they would, after all,
be arriving too soon for successful work.
The raft proved useful for some days on their way north by river and
lake, their journey being through a labyrinth of waterways, where again
and again they made halts in likely places to try for the object of
their search.
But the result was invariably the same; they found gold, but never in
sufficient quantity to warrant a stay.
"Wouldn't pay for bread and onions, my sons," said the Cornishman, and
they pushed on farther and farther into the northern solitudes, with
their loads growing lighter, and a feeling of longing to reach the
golden land where they knew something in the way of settlements and
stores existed, and where people could at once take up claims and begin
work. For a comparison of notes proved that they were all rapidly
coming to the end of their means.
The subject of the passage of the raft down the cataract had been
several times over discussed during their halts, and the possibility of
their enemies having escaped. The Cornishman and his companions,
including the man they had succoured, declared as one that the marauding
trio must have perished.
"And so should we, my sons," said the big fellow, "if we had gone down
that water-slide on the first raft."
"I do not see it," said Dallas; "we made both."
"Yes; but the first was when we were 'prentices, the second was when we
had served our time."
The speaker laughed as he said this; and as it happened, it was on the
second day after that he pointed with something like triumph to some
newly cut and trimmed young pieces of pine-trunk notched in a peculiar
way, cast up among some rocks on the shores of the little lake they were
crossing.
"That's the end of 'em, my sons," he said.
"Oh, no; any one may have cut down those trees."
"For sartain, my son; but I nailed 'em together, for there's one of my
spikes still sticking in. Good nail, too; see how it's twisted and
bent."
This seemed unanswerable, but neither Abel nor Dallas was convinced.
"They may have swum ashore," Abel said to his cousin, as they lay down
to sleep that night.
"Yes," said Dallas, "and I shall hold to Bob's proverb about those born
to be hanged."
CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
A PLUNGE INTO HOT QUARTERS.
"So this is the golden city," said Dallas, as he and Abel sat, worn out
and disconsolate, gazing at a confusion of tents, sheds, and shanties,
for it could be called nothing else, on the hither side of a tumbled
together waste of snow and ice spreading to right and left. "Is it all
a swindle or a dream?"
"I hope it's a dream," replied his cousin, limping a step or two, and
then seating himself on the sledge which, footsore and weary, he had
been dragging for the last few days after they had finally abandoned
their raft. "I hope it's a dream, and that we shall soon wake."
The big Cornishman took his short pipe out of his mouth, blew a big
cloud, looked at his companions, who were asleep rolled up in their
blankets, and then at the cousins.
"Oh, we're wide awake enough, my sons," he said, "and we've got here at
last."
"Yes," said Dallas bitterly; "we've got here, and what next?"
"Make our piles, as the Yankees call it, my lads."
"Where?" cried Abel. "Why, we had better have stayed and washed
gold-dust out of the sand up one of those streams."
"Oh, you mustn't judge of a place first sight; but I must say it aren't
pretty. People seems to chuck everything they don't want out o' doors,
like the fisher folk down at home in Cornwall. But it's worse here, for
they've got no sea to come up and wash the rubbish away."
"Nor yet a river," said Dallas. "I expected the Yukon to be a grand
flowing stream."
"Well, give it a chance, my son," said the big fellow cheerily. "A
river can't flow till it begins to thaw a bit. Chap tells me it's very
late this year, but it'll break up and clear itself in a few hours.
Says it's a sight worth seeing."
"But we did not come to see sights," said Abel peevishly. "Where's that
other man?"
"Gone. Told me to tell you both that he was very grateful for the help
you had given him, and that now he's going to shift for himself."
"The way of the world!" said Dallas dismally.
"Oh, I don't know, my son. He's right enough. Said if he had the luck
to find a good claim up one of the creeks he should peg out five more
alongside of it and come and look us up, and made me promise I'd do the
same to him. What do you think of that?"
"Nothing," said Dallas. "I'm too tired out to think of anything but
eating and sleeping, and there seems to be no chance of finding a place
to do either."
"No, my son; it's a case of help yourself. I've been having a look
round, and the only thing I can find anybody wants to sell is whisky."
"Yes, that was all they had at the store I went to. That's the place
with the iron roof and the biscuit-tin sides--yonder, where those
howling dogs are tied up."
"Ah, I went there," said the Cornishman, "and the Yankee chap it belongs
to called it his hotel. But to go back to what we are to do next, my
son. We mustn't stay here, but go up to one of the little streams
they're talking about, and peg out claims as soon as we find good signs.
Now, I've been thinking, like our chap who lost his knife, that we'd
better separate here and go different ways. If we find a good place
we'll come to you, and if you find one you'll share with us. What do
you say?"
"Tired of our company?" asked Abel bitterly.
The big fellow turned to him and smiled.
"Look here, my son," he said, "that foot of yours hurts you more than
you owned to. You take my advice; after we've got a bit of a fire and
made our camp and cooked our bit o' supper, you make a tin o' water hot
and bathe it well, and don't you use that foot much for a day or two.
No, my sons, I'm not tired of you. If I had been I should ha' said
good-bye days ago. I'm sorry for us to break up our party, but I've
been thinking that what I proposed was the best plan, even if it does
sound rough."
"Yes, I suppose it is," said Dallas, speaking in a more manly way. "I
beg your pardon. So does my cousin here. We're fagged out, and this
does seem such a damper. I wish we were back somewhere in the
pine-woods."
"Tchah! I don't want no pardons begged, my son. I know. When I saw
this lovely spot first I felt as if I could sit down and swear; but what
good would that ha' done? It'll be all right. Now it seems to me that
we shall be more comfort'ble if we go just over yonder away from the
hotels and places, make our bit o' fire, get a pannikin of tea, and then
two of us'll stop and look after the traps in case any one should come
and want to borrow things and we not know where they're gone. T'others
had better have a look round and drop in here and there at these places
where the men meet. It won't do to be proud out here. I want to see
some of the gold."
"Eh?" cried a big, hearty voice, and a man who was passing stopped short
and looked at them. "Want to see some of the gold? Well, there you
are!"
He unfastened a strap that went across his breast, and drew a heavy
leather satchel from where it hung like a cartouche-box on his back.
"Catch hold," he cried. "That's some of the stuff."
The three awake looked at the stranger sharply, and the Cornishman
opened the bag, to lay bare scales, grains, and water-worn and rubbed
scraps of rich yellow gold, at the sight of which the new-comers drew
their breath hard.
"Did you get this here?" cried Dallas.
"Not here, my lad, but at Upper Creek. That lot and two more like it.
You'd better go on there as soon as you can if you want to take up
claims; but I must tell you that all the best are gone already."
"Which is the way?" cried Abel.
"I'll show you when I go back to-morrow, if you like. Where shall you
be?"
"Camping just over there," said Dallas, pointing.
"All right. I'm going to sleep at the hotel to-night. Come on
by-and-by and see me, and we'll have a chat."
"I say, my son," said their big companion, putting his hand in the bag,
half filling it, and letting the gold run back again, before beginning
to fasten the flap.
"My son! Why, you're a Cornishman."
"That's so."
"Glad to see a West-countryman out here. I'm from Devonport. But come
on and have a chat by-and-by. What were you going to say, though?"
"Seeing what a set of rough pups there are about here, my son, I was
going to say, is it safe for a man to carry about a lot of gold like
that?"
The stranger took back his bag and slung it over his shoulder again, as
he looked from one to the other, half-closed his eyes, and nodded.
"Yes, and no, my lads. You're right; we have got some rough pups about
here--chaps who'd put a bullet into a man for a quarter of what I've got
there. But they daren't. We've got neither law nor police, you see."
"No, I don't see," said Dallas. "You speak in riddles."
"You don't see, my lad, because you're a Johnny Newcome. I'll tell you.
We've got some of the most blackguardly scum that could be took off the
top of the big town sink-holes--men who've come to rob and gamble; but
we've got, too, plenty of sturdy fellows like yourselves, who mean work
and who trust one another--men who'll help each other at a pinch; and
I've heard that there's a sort of lawyer fellow they call Judge Lynch
has put in an appearance, and he stands no nonsense. He's all on the
side of the honest workers, and one of them has only to denounce a man
as a thief for the Vigilants to nail him at once. Then there's a short
trial, a short shrift, and there's one rogue the less in the world."
"You mean if he's proved to be a thief, or red-handed."
"That's it, my lads. There, I've got some friends to meet. Come on and
see me to-night."
The speaker nodded cheerily to all three, and went off at a swinging
gait.
"Well, I wouldn't have minded shaking hands with that chap," said the
big Cornishman. "The more of that sort there is out here the better."
"Yes," cried Dallas; "his words were quite cheering."
"So was the sight of that little leather sack of his, my sons. Do your
foot good, Mr Wray?"
"Yes, I forgot all about it," said Abel, eagerly. "Here, let's make our
fire."
This was done, and the billy soon began to bubble, when the tea was
thrown in and declared to be delicious, in spite of a mouldy taste
consequent upon getting wet in its travels and being dried again.
"Better if we hadn't had all our sugar spoiled," said Dallas, as he
munched his biscuit along with a very fat rusty scrap of fried bacon.
"It don't want any sugar, my son," said the Cornishman. "I've just
stirred a teaspoonful of that chap's gold-dust into it, and it has given
it a wonderful flavour."
"Yes," said Abel, "the sight of that gold seems to have quite changed
everything."
The meal was finished, with the whole party refreshed and in the best of
spirits. Then the sledges were drawn together, a few small
pine-saplings bound on to make a roof, over which a couple of waterproof
sheets were drawn, and there was a rough tent for a temporary home.
By that time it was evening, and lanterns were being hung out here and
there, lamps lit in the shanties, and the place began to look more
lively. In two tents there was the sound of music--a fiddle in one, a
badly played German concertina in the other; but the result was not
cheerful, for whenever they were in hearing the great shaggy
sledge-dogs, of which there were scores about, set up a dismal barking
and howling.
The Cornishman's two friends had cheerfully elected to keep the camp, at
a word from their big companion, and the other three started to have a
look at the place and end by calling at the hotel upon their new
acquaintance.
As soon as they were a few yards away, the Cornishman laughed and
winked. "I can trust you, and I can trust Bob Tregelly, and that's me,
my sons; but I can't trust them two where there's whisky about. They've
sworn to me that they won't go amongst it, and I'm not going to let 'em.
Now then, I'm about to see if I can't find something to eat at a
reasonable price, and buy it. Have you lads got any money?"
"Yes, a little left," replied both.
"Then you'd better ware a pound or so the same way; biscuit and bacon
and meal, I should say. I'll meet you yonder at the hotel in an hour,
and we'll pick up what we can about the whereabouts of the stuff; but we
shan't want to stay here long, I expect. Will that do?"
"Yes, in an hour," said Dallas, and they separated.
There was not much to take the young men's attention, but they heard a
couple of men say that the ice was giving, and another was telling a
group of a man having come to the hotel who had done wonders up some
creek he and his mates had tried.
"Our friend, Bel," said Dallas; and soon after, without making any
purchases, from the inability to find what they wanted, they strolled
back just at dark towards the hotel.
"What a hole!" said Abel, as they approached the place, to find from the
lights, the noise, and clattering of drinking-vessels, that a tent which
had been stretched over a wooden frame was crowded, and a couple of men
in shirt-sleeves were busily going in and out from a side shed of
corrugated iron, attending on the assembled guests.
"Evening, gentlemen," said the elder of the two. "You'll find room
inside. Go right up the middle; there's more seats there."
Just then there was a shout of excitement, and the young men looked at
one another.
"It's all right, gents," said the man, who was evidently the landlord.
"We're having a big night. There's a man from Upper Creek with a fine
sample of gold. I could show you if you like. Happy to bank for you
too if you strike it rich, and supply you with stores and good advice.
Any one will speak up for me."
"But surely that means a row," said Dallas, as a roar of voices came
from the canvas building.
"No; that's about a robbery on the track. Three men came in to-day, and
they're telling the lads how they were attacked and half killed. The
Vigilants are strong here to-night, and there'll be business if the
fellows are caught. We don't stand any nonsense here."
"Shall we go in, Bel?" whispered Dallas.
"Yes; we needn't stay long," was the reply. "I want to talk to that man
with the gold."
"This way, gentlemen," said the bar-keeper. "You follow me."