“I doesn’t care ’tic’larly ’bout gittin’ ’quainted wid any _spooks_,”
muttered Jim Tubbs, after bidding good-bye to George Inwood, as the
latter started on his reconnoisance of the Enchanted Island.
“Dat ’ere George was always a fearsome boy eber since he was a little
codger, dat used to ride de hosses at home in ole New York--nebber
could make him b’lebe any stories about ghosts, an’ hobblegoblins,
an’ spooks. Beats all natur’ how queer some folks be; I don’t care
much for darkeys, whedder dey be red or black, while he does; but
when _spooks_ is around, I ’fers to be ’scused, while he don’t.”
Thus did the African commune with himself, as he made his way
carefully from the lake and its phantom-like island. Not until he was
far from it, did he pause, look around, and ask himself what was the
best thing for him to do.
“I has de ’pinion dat when I ’grated to dese parts, I come arter
_gold_, an’ dat’s what I’m going to hunt for at present. I sometimes
tinks I orter be de ’prietor ob dis ’stablishment, as I ’wested de
most money. Howsumeber, Mr. Tubbs, we’ll ’scuse de ’scussion ob dat
question to some subsequent ’casion.”
Without suspecting it, the African took almost precisely the same
direction as that followed by Edwin Inwood. As he was looking for
gold, he went along the margin of a small stream, and began examining
its banks and current for some signs of auriferous deposit.
“Dey say you’re the most aptest to find gold near de water, ’less you
find it somewhere else--so I’ll take a peep. O!----”
Jim stopped, absolutely thunderstruck, for there in the water before
him he saw a large piece of yellow metal, whose nature he divined at
a glance. Plunging forward the next instant, he seized it in his
hand, and held it up, and turned it over. It was a piece of pure
gold, nearly the size of a hen’s egg. It lay imbedded in the sand,
only a small portion displaying itself.
The dusky fellow could scarcely restrain his delight. He turned it
over and over again, and danced about, and laughed, and almost cried.
Finally he sobered down.
“Dat’s de best fish I ebber catched an’ I’ve fished a good deal.
Shouldn’t wonder if dere’s some more ob ’em ’bout.”
There was some reason, if not much truth, in this conclusion, and he
fell to work with might and main. The stream was about a dozen feet
in breadth, some eighteen or twenty inches in depth, with a clear
current, and a hard, sandy bottom. As he had not his tools with him,
he laid his rifle on the bank, and procured a heavy stick with which
he raked the sand hither and thither in his search.
A few minutes’ search revealed another piece considerably smaller
than the first, but large enough to fill Jim’s heart with joy.
“Talk about _spooks_!” he exclaimed contemptuously, “dat ’ere lump ob
yaller stuff is more interesting dan all de _spooks_ on de lake or in
de wood. I tinks I’ll settle here for de present.”
He plied his rude rake with unabated vigor, but nothing more rewarded
his labor. He gradually worked his way up the channel, so intent on
his labor as not to observe or care for aught that took place around
him.
This persevering toil undoubtedly would have continued until
darkness, had it not been checked in a most sudden and alarming
manner. Jim’s head was bent down, as he grovelled in the dust, when
a peculiar, whirring noise caught his ear, and he looked up just in
time to see a dark, circling ring descending over him, and, ere he
could dodge, the loop of the lasso dropped to his elbows, and was
drawn taut with the quickness of lightning.
The huge fellow comprehended his predicament in an instant, and
exerted his giant strength to the utmost to free himself.
“Dat ’ere will nebber do! My gracious, dey’ll got all my gold!”
So great was his strength, that, in all probability, he would have
broken the rope which enclosed his arms; but, in the midst of his
furious struggles, a second lasso, from nearly an opposite point,
shot up in the air, and, in spite of the attempt he made to dodge it,
came down with unerring certainty, and helped imprison his arms.
“Dat ’ere is a little too lubbin’,” muttered Jim, toiling like
a giant in his bonds, but, finding himself unable to accomplish
anything in this manner, he resorted to different tactics.
“I can _pull_, if I can’t break.”
With which, he made a furious plunge up the bank, thereby entailing
a rather ludicrous occurrence. The Mohave who had hurled the second
lasso, simply held it in his hand, he and his companion instantly
dropping out of sight the moment they threw their ropes. The sudden
and tremendous strain upon the rope found him totally unprepared,
and he came scrambling headlong out of the bushes and over the bank
before he could recover himself, observing which, Jim made a dash at
him; but, as the first red man had secured his around the point of a
projecting rock, the doughty fellow was brought up with a round turn,
and the other made all haste to rectify the mistake which he had
committed.
“Lucky for you I couldn’t cotch you! If I’d got one ob dem feet ob
mine on you, I’d have mashed you.”
At this juncture the red men revealed themselves, three of them
rising to their feet, and all motioning to their captive to come
ashore. This command he obeyed, all the time puzzling his wits to see
whether there was not some means by which he could extricate himself.
The third Indian placed his loop over his arms, and they then mounted
their horses, fastening the ropes to the saddle, and taking good care
to keep their sable prey at a respectable distance.
Poor Jim Tubbs was now fairly secured. The three ropes, which encased
him like a child, were woven of a peculiar thread, which made their
tenacity almost equal to that of strands of iron. The Mohaves were
perfect adepts at this kind of business, and, coming upon the African
unawares, they had effected his capture with rare skill.
“Dey’ve got me dis time, sure,” he reflected, as he walked along
between their horses, “an’ de ’portant question is, what am dey gwine
to do wid me, an’ when dey gwine to do it, an’ how dey gwine to do
it, an’ how it’s gwine to ’gree wid me when dey come to do it.”
He walked along a short distance in silence, but his thoughts were
busy.
“I remember dat dat gentleman in New York dat put up at my boarding
house, said de Ingins sometimes roasted de prisoners what dey took.
Gracious! I hope dey don’t s’pose to do dat wid me.”
He scanned the face of each one for a few moments, and concluded:
“Dey don’t look very awful in de face; don’t b’leeve dey’ll roast me.
Oh! jus’ hear dem gold pieces clink in my pocket. Wonder if I can’t
bribe ’em wid one ob ’em to let me off. But den dey don’t know what
gold am worth; dey’d jus’ as lieb hab my jack-knife, an’ I’d jus’ as
lieb hab it, too; so I tinks I’ll let it stay in my pocket fur de
present. Mighty glad dey didn’t tink ’bout my ole gun in de grass,
for I can go back an’ get it myself arter a while.”
That “after awhile” was the “to-morrow” of the unrepentant--a period
about which one might reasonably entertain a few grains of doubt.
Jim was philosopher enough, seeing that there was no help under the
circumstances to take things as a matter of course. He walked along
quietly and peacefully, the Mohaves being sharp enough to keep an
unremitting watch upon his every movement.
Just as night was setting in, they halted near a pile of rocks, where
one of their number collected sticks, and speedily started a fire. In
this portion of California during the summer season, it is generally
very warm and oppressive, but the last few days had been remarkably
cool, and a fire was by no means unwelcome. The cramped position of
his limbs made him chilly, and he came as near to the blaze as they
would permit. No food was prepared, nor did the fellow care for any.
An hour or two after dark, and while the Mohaves were pulling at
their pipes, and Jim was half asleep on the ground, he heard a
footstep, and, raising his head, saw near him the identical Indian
with whom he had shaken hands so emphatically. The African’s
complexion was such as to make him easily recognizable, and the
start and glance of the red man told plainly that there was no
misunderstanding upon his part.
“How do you do?” inquired Jim, with a nod of his head. “If you’ll
untie my arms, I’ll shake hands with you again.”
The Indian seemed pleased in his way at meeting the man who had
vanquished him so nicely. He offered no rudeness to the captive but
came nearer, and, seating himself upon the ground, smoked his pipe.
This was extremely gratifying to the sable individual, for it was
proof positive that the Mohave had not forgotten the kindness which
he had received, and that he was well disposed toward the unfortunate
African.
“How lucky dat he doesn’t know I wanted to come de gold trick ober
him--don’t b’lebe he’d tink so much ob me. Tank you, I guess I’ll
smoke.”
He inclined his head forward, and the pipe stem was inserted between
his teeth, and he puffed at him in a style which showed that there
was no pretended enjoyment on his part.
“Dat ’ere tastes good, I can tell you,” he said, with an expression
on his shiny face of genuine pleasure. “I’s much obliged to you, an’
you needn’t be ’fraid ob ’fending me if you want to offer it to me
to-morrer agin.”
The Mohave knowing nothing at all of English, and Jim Tubbs
understanding not the first syllable of Mohave, it is not to be
supposed that they got along very well in conversation. Jim tried
increasing the loudness of his voice, but that did not seem to help
matters, and their communication therefore took the character of
signs, the African’s words being thrown in by way of embellishment.
After he had smoked awhile, he turned his back so that the Mohave
might see how his arms were bound, and then said:
“Jus’ cut dem, won’t you? I’ll be much obliged.”
The Indian unquestionably understood the request, but he was not
satisfied as to the propriety of granting it. He looked at his
companions, exchanged a few words, when they came up and debated the
matter.
“I won’t run away--I’ll promise you dat--feller treats me kind, I’ll
do de same wid him--gib you my word ob honor.”
They seemed disposed to grant his desire, but before doing so, began
a search to assure themselves that he had not any weapons of offense
about him. Jim sat motionless, except when he assisted them as much
as possible, never once thinking of the gold until he heard the two
pieces jingle together in his pocket. Instantly he started up in
terror.
“I hain’t got noffin dere--dat am sartin’--no use ob feelin’ dat
pocket.”
But a coppery-hued hand was already inserted, and the next instant it
drew out the two yellow pieces.
“Dem ain’t mine,” added Jim, and then, unwilling to tell an untruth,
he added, “dey ain’t, sartin--’cause I’ve got to divide wid de rest.”
They were passed back and forth, the Indians seeming to care very
little about them. When they reached the hands of the hand-shaking
Mohave, he turned them over several times, and then replaced them in
the pocket of the rightful owner.
“Gracious! but you’re a good feller,” exclaimed Jim, “if it wan’t
fur de boys, I b’lebe I’d settle down among you, an’ take you fur
my bruvver chief, if you’ll only let my arms loose, you needn’t be
afreed dat I’ll swing ’em round careless.”
The obliging Mohaves, at this point removed the lassoes from his
limbs, and left his body entirely unrestrained--a proceeding like
the former, the result of the magnanimity showed the Indian, when he
expected no mercy.
“I ’gin to tink George is right,” mused Jim, “he always told me to
be kind to ebery one, no matter if he was your enemy. If I had come
de gold trick ober dis feller, he wouldn’t have been half so cleber.
Gracious! he wouldn’t have been at all.”
The prisoner was now almost entirely at ease, and had given over all
fear of his own personal safety. He argued that they would not be so
lenient and considerate, if they intended any ultimate harm, and he
endeavored to content himself as well as he could until the morrow,
which he hoped would see him set at liberty.
As the night wore on, none of the party seemed to be sensible of
its somniferous tendency. The Mohaves remained wide awake, and Jim
had had too many things in his mind to feel drowsy. The former kept
consulting together, and finally, when it was quite late, they all
arose, and with the prisoner between them, started off.
A half hour later, they came upon the party which held Edwin Inwood.