THE MINERS.
"I wished to give yez a pleasant surprise, as the doctor said when he
told the man that his wife was dead," remarked Tim, in explanation of
his conduct. "Had there really been any of the red gintlemen around I'd
have told you soon enough."
Our young friends were too well pleased at the intelligence to feel
other than good natured, and they gladly forgave Tim for his trespass
upon their patience. Without waiting further they walked hastily
forward, and a moment later stood by the camp-fire.
Three men, apparently, had just aroused themselves from slumber, and
were now stirring around making preparations for their breakfast. They
were shaggy, unshorn, grimy-looking fellows, who had "run wild" for
several years, but who had not necessarily lost their humanity, even
though they had in a great degree lost its outward semblance. In the
center, a large bundle of sticks were burning quite briskly, and one of
the men was turning and watching some meat that was cooking over it. The
others had evidently just returned from the river, for their red temples
and foreheads still glistened with moisture which sparkled like dew on
their patriarchal beards.
They were rough, hardy-looking fellows, but Elwood felt little
apprehension as he stepped forward and said:
"Good morning, gentlemen!"
He who was cook turned his head, but a hot drop of moisture from the
steaming meat at that moment flew in his eye, and clapping his finger to
it, he muttered something, and forthwith and instantly gave his
exclusive attention to his culinary duties.
The second man was rubbing his face with a piece of coarse cloth, and he
suddenly paused with his black eyes glaring over the top, his face
resembling the head of some huge animal clambering over the edge of a
rock, and who, having just gained a foothold, is looking hurriedly
around for his prey.
The third was combing his hair, and just at this moment it was moistened
and sticking straight over his forehead like the horn of an animal. He
would run the comb through with his right hand and then smooth the hair
with his left. He stopped with both arms crooked over his head, and
wheeled around like an automaton, and stared at the boy a moment, and
then said:
"Well, there! Why didn't you ring the door-bell? I say, youngster, come
forward and give us a grip of your hand. Halloo! you've got your brother
with you!"
"Not my brother, but my cousin, Howard Lawrence."
The two boys shook hands with the three, and the grip that they received
from the horny palms made them wince with pain.
"But where'd you come from? We don't see a couple of youngsters dressed
up in your style promenading 'round in these parts every day. Where'd
you come from?"
"The steamer on which we took passage the other day from Panama, was
burned off the coast, and we got ashore on a raft."
"Be you the only ones?"
"No; there were quite a number that escaped."
"Where be they?"
"They were carried away by a vessel while we had wandered inland."
"And you two--halloo! here's your grandfather!"
"No; that is Tim O'Rooney, a good friend of ours."
"Your humble sarvint!" saluted the Irishman, removing his hat, making a
profound bow and scraping a large foot upon the ground.
"Well, there! We're glad to see you. What's all your names?"
They were given several times, and then carefully spelled at the request
of the large-whiskered man, who desired that no mistake might be made.
"You may call me Ned Trimble, and that ugly-looking fellow 'tending to
the fire is George Wakeman, and that horrid-looking chap scrubbing off
his dirty face, is Alfred Wilkins. Neither of them know much, and I
brought them along to black my boots and dress my hair."
It looked as though Ned was a sort of a wag, for his companions smiled
as if they were used to that thing. He continued:
"We're a party of hunters that have been in Californy for the last five
years, and I rather guess I've prospected through every part of it."
"You must be rich by this time."
"Rich!" laughed Ned Trimble. "Well there, we're everything but rich.
Somehow or other we hain't had the luck. We sold a claim up in the
diggings for five hundred dollars, and the next week the party sold it
for fifteen thousand. That's the way it has always gone with us; but we
are going to be rich yet--ain't we, boys."
"Yes, if we only live long enough," replied Wakeman.
"I told you that chap hadn't much sense," remarked Ned, addressing his
three visitors. "He doesn't know enough to answer a question as he
oughter. I've been trying to teach him something, but I shall have to
give it up as a bad job. Been to breakfast?"
"No--not yet."
"Thought you hadn't. Cook, put up another slice, douse it in butter,
salt and pepper, and serve it up as you used to do when I employed you
at the Astor. Gentlemen, how do you like it, rare or well done?"
All made answer that they were not particular, and Ned replied thereunto
as follows:
"Sensible fellows! If you don't care what you get, you won't have to
care much for what you don't get. What will you select as a dessert?
Plum, rice, bread, or cherry pudding? Apple, mince, cranberry, plum,
peach, or lemon pie? Cup-custard, tapioca, watermelon, citron, or
sherry, maderia, or port. Order which ever you choose, gentlemen, it
don't make any difference to us. We can give you one just as well as the
other."
"I suppose you can," laughed Howard; "so we'll not take the trouble to
order any."
"All right; as you please, gentlemen. We haven't any turkey or oysters
left so you will have to put up with a little antelope that we shot
yesterday afternoon. Fine condition for this time of year, and the best
kind of flesh to starve to death on."
"We haven't had a taste of it yet; but we devoured a goodly piece of a
mountain sheep."
"Just so. I was going to speak of a mountain sheep, if my servants
hadn't interrupted me so often with inquiries as to how they should make
the wine sauce. Ah! I see our meal is ready; we will therefore repair to
the banquet hall."
The six took their seats upon the leaves, and ate the meal in the usual
primitive manner, verifying the adage, "hunger is the best sauce."
Ned Trimble enlivened the meal in his usual loquacious manner; and after
a great many words and circumlocution, the fact was discovered that he
and his friends had spent the last five years in California, not having
visited a civilized post within two years.
Disgusted with their ill success in the Sacramento Valley, they had
pulled up stakes and started off to hunt new fields for themselves. They
were very cheerful and hopeful, and according to their accounts had
encountered every imaginable danger of the California wilds.
Elwood inquired whether they had met any grizzly bears.
"Grizzly bears!" repeated Ned, stopping just as he was about to insert a
huge piece of meat in his mouth. "Grizzly bears? Well, there! _We've
lived among 'em!_"
"Is it possible?"
"Yes; I tracked a big grizzly in the Sierra Nevada for two days and then
I stopped."
"What made you stop?"
_"I concluded the bear tracks were getting a little too fresh!"_