A year later, and we find Mr. Sukolt and his party still at the same
camp.
“What is it?” asked Bushy of her father, who was reading attentively a
letter that had come to him by the last mail-wagon. “What is it, Padre?
You look so serious.”
“They want me to come back to Great Pine Mine and bring three men with
me. The offer is a good one.”
“Three men,” cried Bushy; “why, Padre, then you can take Big Bill,
can’t you?”
“What do you think about going, boys,” asked Mr. Sukolt, turning to
Shanks and Tom.
“Oh, Tom,” said Bushy, almost pleadingly, “we are going back to Great
Pine Mine--you and me and Padre and Shanks and Big Bill, and there is a
lot of money waiting for you there--the letter says so, and”----
“Hold on and take a good breath, chicken,” cried Tom, as he pinched her
ears. “You are going too fast altogether.”
After considering everything, Mr. Sukolt decided that if they could
dispose of their mining property they would go. Big Bill had not been
at all fortunate in finding gold in this camp, and was glad to be made
one of the party.
[Illustration: BUSHY’S HOME AT GREAT PINE MINE.]
Little Belle heard the news and came running into the cabin, carrying
her new hood that her mamma had just finished. “You must take it,
Bushy, because when winter comes it will keep your ears from freezing,
and it is much better than any kind Tom can make.”
“Well, I like that!” cried Tom, who turned just in time to hear his
skill deprecated by pretty little Belle.
“Oh, Tom,” they both cried, and more hearty laughing followed. “We know
you do a lot of things, but you do sew so funny!” put in Bushy as she
caught him by the hands and whirled him around and around.
It was a busy day, and yet there was not much work done in the mines.
Every man seemed to prefer lingering about the Sukolt cabins rather
than digging ore. Without being asked, they assisted in sorting
and packing, and cleaning wagons and mending harness, splicing
ropes, brightening firearms, dividing ammunition, and adding little
necessaries, like a sack of salt, a plug of tobacco for Tom, a side of
bacon, a round of ammunition, all taken from their own little stock.
Mr. Hogan said he would try and sell the “claims,” should any Eastern
gold-lover with a lot of money wander into camp. They were good mines
and would pay well if anybody had money enough to work them. The only
one being worked was the Bushy Mine, which had turned out to be one of
the greatest finds that year.
It was a sad day when the two wagons and the four miners and Bushy rode
out of the old camp. Mr. Sukolt had sent a reply to Great Pine Mine by
the same man who brought the mail, saying he would accept, so when,
three days afterward, they started on their journey the word that they
were coming was four days ahead of them.
They had along with them a cow and four oxen. The men walked most of
the way, only riding when it was down grade. Big Bill drove the cattle.
Bushy rode Jip, of course, and was a kind of scout. She went ahead and
warned them of any coming teams, or bad crossings; hunted for water,
and looked out for good camping grounds and grass spots where the
horses and cattle might get a little grazing as a luxury. On the third
day they reached a very high place in the mountains. They actually rode
right through the clouds to get there. The mountain peaks rose high and
sharp all about them, and the scenery was magnificent in its sudden
changes from storm to sunshine. Bushy had never seen anything equal to
it before, and she kept wishing all the time for Mollie and the other
children to look at it with her.
“It makes me think of two big buffaloes fighting--butting their heads
together,” cried Bushy, as she sat on Jip and watched two black clouds
rushing toward each other.
Bushy, in her delight over this new phase of nature, urged Jip on
ahead, and was soon high up and far in advance of the two wagons
and Big Bill with his cattle. Still she could hear the men behind
distinctly, and often understood their calls one to another. “Oh, oh!”
she screamed as she reached the very tip-top of the divide, “those two
black fellows roll about like they were alive.”
She checked Jip and sat like one entranced, watching the play of the
two clouds in the sky to the left of her. They took all kinds of funny
shapes, first long, with queer waving tails, and arms stretching out,
then they would roll up in a ball and appear to bump angrily against
each other. The sky assumed all colors and shades imaginable, and for
a while Bushy wondered if the world was coming to an end--everything
suddenly looked so strange. “Jip, oh, Jip, they are coming this way!”
she screamed as a tremendous thunder-clap almost startled her into
falling off the horse. Peal after peal rent the air and Jip trembled
so that Bushy dismounted, thinking he would sink under her. “Crack!
flash! bang!” went the lightning, “boom! boom! boom!” sounded the
thunder like a thousand cannons going off at once, yet the thickest
clouds were far below. The sun was shining overhead.
“If it comes any farther this way, Jip, old fellow, we are in for
it,” said Bushy, looking back anxiously for the appearance of the two
wagons. “Surely they will get up here soon, I cannot be so very far in
advance!”
The clouds seemed to be rolling down the mountain-side. Bushy watched
with wide-open eyes and soon saw beneath her nothing but the big
buffaloes, as she called them, and the noise was deafening. Crash!
fell the trees. Bang! boom! and then a bellow like that of a wounded
grizzly. “Gee! whoa! haw!” would come to Busby’s ears now and then
from the darkness below. Then she heard, “Hold your horses, they are
slipping down the mountain-side!” “Ah, that was Tom’s voice,” murmured
Bushy. “Jip, we are left out of this entirely.” She tried to make
Jip go down the road, but no force could drive him one step in that
direction. While Bushy and Jip were standing in the bright sunshine,
the men and wagons below were being drenched with rain. To them it was
all dark, and the rumbling thunder and quivering lightning, coming
upon them almost every instant, made it imperative to stop where they
were and try to keep the animals from dashing down the precipice in
their fright. The rain did not fall in drops but poured, as if out of
buckets.
“I am all right, Padre!” but though she could hear the men, they could
not distinguish her voice, for they were in the midst of the storm.
Still pressing forward, the little party were brought to a sudden
standstill by a tremendous report of thunder, which startled them even
after their experience of the last half hour. As suddenly as the storm
had come it settled and drifted downward, giving a few departing groans
and disappearing in the valley below. With streaming faces and hair,
and drenched bodies, the little group looked about them to ascertain if
anyone of their number was missing.
“Bushy!” they all screamed, as the sun burst upon them in its glory and
made their dripping forms seem grotesque and out of place.
“Here! here! Jip and I are all right,” she cried, and when the wagons
reached her a more astounded set of men never gazed upon a little girl.
“Dry!” they all cried. “Not a drop of water on her!” It was a wonderful
experience for them all, and the miners never got tired of telling the
story.