One hundred thousand dollars in gold in one sense is a comfortable
sum, and yet, in another, it is the very reverse. A man who finds
himself in possession of that amount, and attempts to carry it, will
find that it weighs several hundred pounds, and is rather awkward to
manage. If he tumbles a portion of the nuggets into his pantaloons
pockets, their excessive weight is almost sure to send them through
the bottom down into his boots, where they are certain to feel still
more uncomfortable. If he slings the auriferous luggage over his
shoulder, the burden is too great to be carried for any time; if the
money is placed upon the strong back of a mule, there is the haunting
terror of its being lost or stolen during some unguarded moment.
Perhaps the best thing that any of our readers can do with their
hundred thousand dollars, is to put it in a strong safe, or in a
good solvent bank, where it can be drawn out piecemeal and devoted
to charitable objects; but it will be seen at once that neither of
these plans were practicable for our friends while their cargo was
_in transitu_ for San Francisco, and when we say that they all felt
uneasy, we but feebly express their feelings.
“I tell you if it was know’d what a load we’s takin’ frough de
mountains, dere’d be some fo’ks dat would rather like to git
’quainted wid us,” remarked Jim, as they toiled laboriously through
the wild country.
“Yes; we may meet with strangers, and if so, we must be very careful
that they don’t suspect we have so much gold with us.”
“Yes; I’s been tinkin’ dat I orter caution you an’ Ned ’bout keepin’
a close mouf when strangers am ’bout.”
“You needn’t be afraid of me,” replied Edwin. “If any one reveals it,
I am sure it will be you.”
The third night after leaving the Enchanted Island, they encamped
in a rocky gorge, close by a small running stream, where immense
precipitous walls rose on either hand, and at mid-day a twilight
gloom rested upon the ground and stream. Fine, tender green grass was
growing in profusion; and, picketing the animals within ear-shot, the
gold was removed with the saddles, and placed close to the camp-fire,
where it could always be seen by every member of the party. They had
a fine plump bird shot during the latter part of the afternoon, which
Jim took in hand, and soon had sputtering and broiling over a small,
brisk fire--“doing” it with a skill which would have tempted the
appetite of the most fastidious epicure.
By the time this was disposed of, it was entirely dark, and the three
gathered more closely about the fire, for there was a chilliness in
the air which made its warmth pleasant and grateful. Jim found solace
in his inevitable pipe, while the brothers chatted as usual. George
lay with his head upon the saddles containing the gold, Edwin sat
near him, while Jim was upon the opposite side the fire, half sitting
and half reclining in his listlessness.
“Am dat a soft piller?” he asked of the older brother.
“I can’t say that it is,” was the reply, “but it would be pretty hard
work to sleep with my head on anything else, so long as I know we had
the gold with us.”
“I s’pose when folks have a big lot of gold they’re apt to think a
good deal about. I never yet hefted dat ’ere pile. Jes’ luf me heft
it.”
The African passed over to where the three saddles lay, and Inwood
removed his head, picked them up and held them suspended for a few
moments.
“I tell you gold am purty heavy----”
The next instant, the whole pile dropped from his hand, the nuggets
giving forth an unmistakeable chink, for there before all stood a
stranger, his appearance as sudden and unexpected as if he had risen
from the very earth!
There was several bad things regarding the advent of this man. In
the first place, he came at a moment when it was certain he had
discovered that a large quantity of gold was in the possession of the
little party. The words of the negro, and his sudden dropping of the
riches, made it impossible that it should be otherwise.
And again, the stranger had an evil look. He was in the costume
of a hunter, but his scowling features, keen eyes, low forehead,
flat nose, and cunning expression, were those of an outlaw from
society--one whom it was exceedingly perilous to encounter, where the
arm of the law was powerless to protect or to strike terror.
“Good evening, friends,” was the salutation, before the party had
time to recover from their surprise and indignation.
“Good evening,” returned Inwood, who could not be rude, even when
under such great provocation.
“Like to know what _you_ want?” demanded Jim, as he seated himself
upon the saddles, and defiantly looked at the new-comer.
“_Me?_” grinned the other, as he also seated himself as coolly as
if he were an invited guest, “I can’t say that I want anything in
particular. Happened to catch sight of your fire a little while ago,
and I came down to see who you might be. Rather like your appearance.”
“We’re a company journeying alone,” said George Inwood, “and, wishing
you good speed, you will let us say that we prefer to remain alone,
and therefore ask you to pass on.”
This was rather a palpable hint, but there seemed no disposition upon
the part of the stranger to act upon it. He sat still a few moments,
and then also produced a pipe, which he lit with an ember from the
fire.
“My name is Muffins,” said he, “and, as I told you a few minutes ago,
I’m a hunter in this neighborhood. It isn’t often that I see a white
man, and when I do, I must stick to him and enjoy his society all I
can. So, of course, I couldn’t think of leaving you just yet.”
It occurred to George Inwood that he had not only been discourteous,
but had overdone matters altogether in manifesting such a prompt
anxiety to get rid of Muffins, and he now attempted an impossible
thing, namely, to undo his mistake.
“Are you alone?” he inquired.
“Yes, sir; nobody goes with me. I live alone in these woods, except
when I meet a friend, as I have met you to-night; but I never stay
with them long, so you needn’t be anxious regarding me, ’cause I’ll
leave you as soon as it is daylight.”
This was intended to be reassuring, but it was anything but that,
and made Inwood more uneasy than ever. His great fear was that there
were others close at hand, and the darkness, gloom and solitude gave
opportunity for treachery. He did not see how he could rid himself of
his dangerous visitor; but Jim now spoke up:
“See here, Mr. Buffin, I wants to ax you a question.”
“I am at your service, sir.”
“Did you ’serbe me when I dropped dese saddles?”
“I noticed that you let something fall as I came up, but I didn’t
pay any attention. It was no concern of mine, you know.”
“You didn’t tink--dat is, you don’t tink dere be any gold about dat?”
“Course not; why should I think so?”
“All right, Mr. Buffer, I doesn’t want you to tink so--jes’ ’member
dat if you please.”
George Inwood was greatly irritated, but there was such an air of
simplicity about what Jim said, that it was impossible not to be
amused. When the African received the reply of Mr. Muffin, he seemed
satisfied, and seated himself upon the saddles.
George saw that their visitor understood the precise condition of
affairs, and there was no further use of attempting concealment.
“I s’pose you’re miners?” remarked Mr. Muffin, by way of initiating
the conversation.
“Yes; we have spent several months among the mountains, part the time
hunting and part the time mining.”
“What luck?”
“Quite good I may say; we have toiled long and hard, and have made
pretty good wages--so much, that we have concluded to return home.”
“Live in California?”
“No; our home is in the Empire State, where I hope we shall shortly
be.”
“Going to San Francisco?”
Inwood answered in the affirmative, and then concluded that it was
about time he asked a few questions.
“Where are your friends?”
But Mr. Muffin was too sharp to be taken off his guard, and, with a
meaning smile upon his evil countenance, he said:
“The nearest I’ve got, I believe, are a couple of brothers in
Sacramento City.”
“You hunt alone, do you?”
“I have done so for nigh onto five years--not quite that, howsumever.”
“That is a singular way of managing one’s affairs. A man isn’t apt
to act in that manner unless he has a strong motive for doing so.”
“What might be a chap’s motives?” demanded the other, removing his
pipe and glaring upon the speaker with an ugly look.
“Sometimes a man has a natural taste for solitude, but it more
generally happens that he leaves society for society’s own good.”
“Do you mean to ’sinuate that that’s what I’ve done?”
“I don’t insinuate anything, because I know nothing about you; but I
strongly suspect that you are some scamp who dare not return to the
society of your people on account of the crimes you have committed
against them.”
Mr. Muffin looked very angry, and Jim had strong hopes that he would
say or attempt something bad, for he was eager to lay his hands upon
him; but their visitor evidently concluded it unsafe to let his angry
passions rise just then, and so he held his peace, and smoked his
pipe harder than ever.
“When a man addresses me as I have addressed you,” said Inwood, “I
quietly leave his company, and have nothing more to do with him.”
“Dat so,” added Jim, beginning to lose all patience at the impudence
of their visitor. “If you know what’s best for yourself you’ll _cl’ar
out_.”
Mr. Muffin smoked in silence a few moments longer, and then rose to
his feet. Glaring first at Inwood, and then at Jim, he shook his fist
at each, and said:
“I’ll go, but you’ll hear from me before long. _You haven’t seen the
last of me._”
And the next moment he strode off in the darkness.
The miners waited until they were sure of being alone, when George
said:
“I am sorry we saw anything of that man--he has had his eyes on our
gold, and has made up his mind to have it.”
“Yes; I’m sorry you told him about it,” gravely remarked Jim.
“I think _you_ were the first to give him the hint.”
“How dat?” inquired the African, with profound amazement.
“He saw you drop the saddles, and heard you speak about them
containing gold.”
“I know dat, but he told me he didn’t tink dere war any gold here,
while you tole him dat we had had purty good luck, an’ had got
’siderable.”
“However, there is no need of disputing about it, Jim; he has made up
his mind to rob us of that gold, if he has to cut our throats to do
it, and the question with us is, how are we to prevent it.”
“The camp-fire has burned down pretty low,” said Inwood, “let’s pick
up our traps and change our quarters.”
“No doubt he is watching us.”
“What if he is? It is so dark that we can give him the slip.”
The suggestion of the boy’s seemed to be the best under the
circumstances, and the two concluded to act upon it at once. Jim
quietly stole down the bank of the stream, slipped the lariat pegs
by which the animals were held, and then led them about a half
mile down the rocky bed of the brook, several times stumbling and
bruising himself. Finally he reached a spot which _felt right_, where
he tethered them, and returned to the brothers, who were rather
impatiently awaiting him.
“I’s found a place,” said he, “you needn’t tumble down more nor a
dozen times in gitten’ dere.”
The gold was burdensome, but they distributed it among themselves,
the African taking about nine-tenths, and George very nearly all that
remained. They then began picking their way down the stream, being
guided almost entirely by the sense of touch. The negro’s remarkable
memory of places was found to assist them a great deal. George kept
so close to him that he could touch him at any moment with his
outstretched arms, while Edwin did touch his brother continually to
make sure that he was not losing him. They stumbled quite often,
and bruised themselves considerably, but not enough to affect their
progress to any degree, and at the end of something over an hour, Jim
suddenly came to a stand still, with the whispered exclamation:
“_Here we is!_”
The brothers strained their eyes, but in vain; for the darkness was
too great for them to perceive anything. The faint neigh of a horse,
however, told them that Jim was not mistaken.
“Here we stays till mornin’,” said the latter, “an’ if Mr. Buffalo
finds us, he’ll have to have purty sharp eyes.”
“I think we are safe, unless we have been followed. Be careful and
speak in low tones, and say only the words that are necessary. Have
you got your blankets and everything with you?”
Edwin replied in the affirmative, but the negro burst into a low,
hearty laugh.
“What do you s’pose I’ve done?” he asked.
Of course neither could answer his question.
“I’ve gone an’ left my gun up dere by de camp-fire.”
“Never mind, let it go,” said George, “we cannot be a great ways from
home, and we can get along without it.”
“No, _sah_; can’t do widout dat; s’pose Mr. Bufton brings down a
party ob men to-morrer mornin’, where’ll you be den?”
There was reason in this question, and George added:
“We may need it, but you run a great risk in going back. They may be
there, and you must take great care that you are not seen.”
“Yah, yah, won’t see much ob me--dark a colored man as I am, on such
a dark night, ain’t apt to be generally visible, an’ what dey can see
ob me, dey’re welcome to see.”
But Jim promised extra caution, and started on the back track. The
trouble was that he was in a great hurry; for, by this time, the
night was well advanced, and he was desirous of securing his usual
allowance of sleep. It was not such a difficult matter for him to
make his way, as he had become pretty well acquainted with the
ground, and the rippling brook was an infallible guide, if he were
dubious for a single moment.
It seemed a long time before he came upon the dull embers of the
fire, which were smouldering so low as to be hardly visible at any
distance; but fortunately, Jim discovered it while several rods
distant.
At this instant, he recalled that he had promised his young friend
to be careful, and he therefore hesitated and took a survey as well
as he could under the circumstances. Nothing was seen to arouse
suspicion, and he was about to advance, when the embers assumed a
glow so sudden and bright as to startle and alarm him.
Stepping back, he watched it intently, and, a moment later, saw a
shadowy form pass in front of it, and then two others, although
neither of them was heard to speak a word.
“So you’re dere, be you?” muttered Jim, as he sank down to the earth
to watch his opportunity; “but you don’t find us, an’ don’t see
noffin’ ob de gold.”
Prudence would have dictated to the negro to withdraw from the
presence of such danger; but he placed too great a value upon his
rifle to allow it to leave his hands in this unquestioned manner.
He remembered while they were busy making their preparations, that
he had laid it down to one side; where, as yet, Mr. Muffin and his
friends had seen nothing of it.
Jim was several yards from the brook, where he could hear any words
spoken. By-and-bye one of the men seemed to become very impatient,
and, with a profane expletive, said:
“What’s the use? They’ve given you the slip, and we might as well go
back again.”
“Where’ve they gone?” asked another.
“A pretty question to ask! I s’pose you think we can see ’em a dozen
miles off on such a bright moonlight night as this.”
This remark was greeted with derisive laughter by the others, and
the one propounding the question, no doubt was greatly discomfited
thereby. But, at this point, Jim began to grow apprehensive about his
rifle and commenced crawling toward the spot where he had left it
upon the ground.
The African’s complexion was greatly in his favor, and united with
the extreme darkness of the night, secured his safety so long as
he kept out of the light of the fire. Unfortunately this had been
rekindled by one of the strangers, so that the attempt was attended
with considerable risk.
Still Jim crept stealthily forward, and was already groping over the
ground in search of his weapon, when it was suddenly snatched from
the earth, and a voice called out:
“Helloa! here’s a gun anyhow. They left in such a hurry that they
forgot to take that with ’em, and I guess----”
The speaker was suddenly prostrated by a powerful blow, and the
weapon violently wrenched from his grasp.
“Quick! there’s one of ’em!” was the lusty cry of the man, as he
staggered to his feet. The others were bewildered by the unexpected
assault, but they attempted a pursuit, rushing off blindly in the
darkness in a direction almost opposite the right one.
“Yaw! yaw!” chuckled Jim, as he stumbled and hurried down the bed of
the stream. “Won’t have to run fur to git away from the likes ob you.”
A half hour later, the anxious brothers were relieved by the
appearance of Jim among them, when he gleefully recounted his
adventure, quite jubilant at his success.
“Won’t they follow you?” inquired Edwin.
“Dey undertook dat, but dey went de wrong way.”
“But they may now go the right one.”
“How dey know dat?”
“We are not sure that they have any suspicion of the truth,” said
George, “but they would naturally suspect that they had followed the
course of the brook.”
“Let ’em foller,” was the reply of the African, “an’ if dey do so,
dey might tumble ober us widout seeing us.”
“Do you know how many there are?”
“Seed tree ob ’em, an’ I tink dey was more around.”
“I don’t fear that so much, as that they may encamp near us, and make
an attack in the morning.”
“We must move off as soon as it is daylight,” said Edwin, “and get
all the start we can before they discover us.”
Edwin and Jim finally lay down in their blankets and went to sleep,
while George maintained watch. He was too nervous and troubled to
feel any desire for slumber, and too anxious to get out of this
dangerous neighborhood to allow any advantage to escape him.
More than once, through the lonely hours of the night he was sure he
heard whisperings and footsteps, and as often he raised the hammer of
his rifle, and endeavored to pierce the Cimmerian gloom. The faint
neigh of one of the animals sent a thrill of apprehension through
him, and he was certain the outlaws were among them, but nothing
further was heard, and, at the first streak of light, he aroused his
friends, and told them they must start at once.
Their preparations required but a few moments, when they resumed
their march. They found that the face of the country materially
changed as they advanced, and they made much more rapid progress than
they had dared to hope.
They were constantly looking back, and once Jim’s keen eyes were
positive that he detected a number of men on a distant eminence,
evidently watching them; but nothing more was seen of their enemies,
and when they encamped at night, they were confident that none but
the All-seeing Eye observed them.