of rock at the back of their fire, and there, glistening and sparkling
in the face of the cliff, were veins, nuggets, and time-worn fragments
of rich red gold in such profusion, that, far up as they could see, the
cliff seemed to be one mass of gold-bearing rock, richer than their
wildest imagination had ever painted.
The effect upon the adventurers was as strange as it was marked.
Abel bowed down his face in his hands to hide its spasmodic
contractions; while Dallas rose, stepped slowly towards it, and reached
over the glowing flame to touch a projecting nugget--bright, glowing in
hue, and quite warm from the reflection of the fire.
"Ah!" he sighed softly, as if convinced at last; "it is real, and not a
dream."
Tregelly turned his back, began to whistle softly an old tune in a minor
key, and drew the coffee, the bacon pan, and the bread a little farther
away.
"Ahoy there, my sons!" he cried cheerily; "breakfast! Fellows must eat
even if they are millionaires."
It was too much for Dallas, before whose eyes was rising, not the gold,
for he seemed to be looking right through that, but the wistful,
deeply-lined face of a grey-haired woman at a window, watching ever for
the lost ones' return.
At Tregelly's words he burst into a strangely harsh, hysterical laugh,
and then, too, he sank upon his knees and buried his face in his hands,
remaining there motionless till a hand was laid upon his shoulder, and
he started to find it was Abel who was gazing in his eyes.
"Dal," he cried, in a voice that did not sound like his own, "we shall
pay the old uncle now."
At that moment the dismal tune Tregelly was whistling came to an end,
and they saw that he was sitting with his back to them, looking straight
away.
They stepped quickly to his side, and he started up to hold a hand to
each.
"To win or to die, didn't you say, my sons?" he cried cheerily.
"Yes, something like that," replied Dallas huskily.
"Well, it means winning, my sons," cried Tregelly, "for we won't die
now."
CHAPTER FORTY ONE.
SHOWING HOW GOOD CAME OUT OF EVIL.
The store of provisions proved on examination to be far greater than had
been anticipated, and it seemed plain enough that their enemy had, while
seeking a place of refuge from which he might carry on his nefarious
career, hit accidentally upon the greatest discovery of gold that had
been made; and after decently disposing of his remains, the three
adventurers began to examine with something approaching breathless awe
the vast treasure that they could claim as theirs.
The first thing to be done, though, was to make use of their axes and
contrive a shelter right in the centre of the patch of dwarf pine, their
plan being to hack out the size of the hut they intended to make in the
dense scrub, saving everything approaching to a straight pole to use for
roofing.
They worked well, for the discovery of the gold and a fair supply of
provisions seemed to send new life into them; and before many hours had
passed they were provided with shelter for themselves and their stores.
Their next step was to mark out and peg what was legally allowed to each
man as discoverer of a new field's claim. And now, in spite of the
lateness of the season and their height up in the mountains, it seemed
as if fate had ceased to persecute them and was ready to help them make
the treasure they had found safely their own.
It was too late to expect to do much before the winter closed in with
its inclement darkness, so the energies of all were devoted to making
the most of the glorious spell of fine weather which now ensued, and
preparing for the winter.
"We've found it; and after it has been lying here ever since the world
began," said Tregelly, "it isn't likely to fly away now, and nobody's
going to take it away from us. First thing is, have we got as much on
our claim as ever we're likely to want?"
"More," said Dallas; "and I propose that one of us goes down to the old
spot to give the news to Norton and our old friends, that they may come
and be the first to take up claims."
"That is what I meant to propose," said Abel.
"Good nails driven in, and I clinch them," said Tregelly. "Only look
here: I always like to do a good turn to a man who means well."
"Of course," said Dallas; "but what do you mean?"
"There's that judge. I think he ought to have a pull out of this, too.
He nearly hung us up on a tree, but he meant well, and it was all for
law and order. What I propose is this. We'll make our own claims sure,
and get our friends up to secure theirs; and then let's tell the judge,
and he'll come up with a picked lot to keep all right."
"Excellent," said Dallas. "But who goes down first to see about
stores?"
"I will, my sons. I'm strongest, and as to bringing up plenty, I shall
have plenty ready to help. But I say, play fair; you won't run away
with my third while I'm gone?"
Tregelly started down the ravine in company with Scruff the very next
day, and many more had not elapsed before he was back with the whole
party from their old workings, eager to congratulate the fortunate
discoverers and place ample stores at their service.
They had just time to get up another supply, enough for the coming
winter, before it seemed to sweep down like a black veil from the
northern mountains.
But building does not take long under such circumstances. Wood had been
brought up from out of a valley a few miles lower down, and in the
shelter of a dense patch of scrub pine in a side gully, where the
new-comers found the gold promising to their hearts' content, they were
ready to defy the keenest weather that might come.
Two years had elapsed, and winter was once more expected, for the days
were shortening fast, when three men sat together in their humble hut,
discussing the question of going home; and the thought of once more
meeting one whose last letter had told of her longings to see her boys
again, brought a flush to the young men's cheeks and a bright light to
their eyes.
They had been talking long and loudly, those two, while Tregelly had sat
smoking his pipe and saying nothing, till Dallas turned to him sharply.
"Say something, my son?" the big fellow cried. "Of course I will. Here
it is. I've been thinking of all that gold we've sent safely home
through the banks, and I've been thinking of what our claim's worth, and
what that there company's willing to give."
"Well," said Abel, "go on."
"Give a man time, my son. I warn't brought up to the law. What I was
thinking is this: we three working chaps in our shabby clothes are rich
men as we stand now."
"Very," said Dallas.
"And if we were to sell our claim now we should be very, very rich."
"Very--very--very rich," said Abel, laughing as a man laughs who is in
high spirits produced by vigorous health.
"Well, go on," said Dallas.
"Here it is, then: what's the good of our going grubbing on just to be
able to say we're richer still? `Enough's as good as a feast,' so
what's the good of being greedy? Why not let some one else have a turn,
and let's all go home?"
"What do you say, Bel?"
"Ay! And you, Dal?"
"Ay!"
"The `Ays' have it, then," cried Tregelly.
"Well done, my sons. Hooroar! We're homeward bou-wou-wound!" he roared
in his big bass voice. "Hooroar! We're homeward bound!"
Business matters are settled quickly in a goldfield, and the next day it
was known in the now crowded ravine, where every inch of ground was
taken up, that the big company of which the judge was the head had
bought the three adventurers' claim, known far and near as Redbeard's,
for a tremendous sum. But all the same, heads were shaken by the wise
ones of the settlement, who one and all agreed that the company had got
it cheap, and they wished that they had had the chance.
"You're one of the buyers, aren't you, Norton, and your lot who came up
first are the rest?"
"That's right," said Norton, smiling. "Hah!" said the man. "Kissing
goes by favour."
"Of course," said Norton. "But then, you see, we were all old friends."
"We said it was to win or to die, Bel," said Dallas one day, when all
business was satisfactorily settled and they were really, as Tregelly
had sung, homeward bound.
"Yes," said Abel quietly, "and it all seems like a dream."
"But it's a mighty, weighty, solid, golden sort o' dream, my son," said
the big Cornishman, "and there's no mistake about it, you've won. I
say, though, I'm glad we're taking the dog."
THE END.
End of Project Gutenberg's To Win or to Die, by George Manville Fenn