IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-S) 1.0 I.I 1.25 li^llIlM 12.5 1.4 12.0 1.8 1.6 Photographic Sciences Corporation 33 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 f,^ iV :\ \ ^.%> 6^ ^^ r^^ w- CIHM/ICMH Microfiche Series. CIHM/ICMH Collection de microfiches. Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / Institut Canadian de microreproductions historiques <> I I iv^^mfiX^'^^-. i ^ j ^ :-y fe-^.:rr'4;^^^^-^*^ AW-'1l'h''a y^ > ' :^ ^ -^A ' *^^S*s*^^7W^S<*!^'S*^^tiKK«!«:?^*^ ^.\u^^v ^^^' B t ^^f fy^*»'!^^, :." Technical and Bibliographic Notes/Notes techniques et bibliographiques J f The Institute has attempted to obtain the best original copy available for filming. Features of this copy which may be bibliographicalty unique, which may alter any of the images in the reproduction, or which may significantly change the usual method of filming, are checked below. L'Institut a microfilm^ le meilleur exemplaire qu'il lui a 6t6 possible de se procurer. Les details de cet exemplaire qui sont peut-dtre uniques du point de vue bibliographique, qui peuvent modifier une image reproduite, ou qui peuvent exiger une modification dans la mdthode normale de filmage sont indiqu6s ci-dessous. rVT' Coloured covers/ JzZu Couverture de couleur I I Covers damaged/ D D n D D Couverture endommagde Covers restored and/or laminated/ Couverture restaur^s et/ou pelliculde I I Cover title missing/ Le titre de couverture manque I~~| Coloured maps/ Cartes gdographiques en couleur Coloured ink (i.e. other than blue or black)/ Encre de couleur (i.e. a^itre que bleue ou noire) I I Coloured plates and/or illustrations/ Planches et/ou illustrations en couleur Bound with other material/ Reli6 avec d'autres documents Tight binding may cause shadows or distortion along interior margin/ La reliure serr^i peut causer de I'ombre ou de la distortion le long de la marge intdrieure Blank leaves added during restoration may appear within the text. Whenever possible, these have been omitted from filming/ II se peut que certaines pages blanches ajoutdes lors d'une restauration apparaissent dans le texte, mais, lorsque cela 6tait possible, ces pages n'ont pas 6t6 film^es. Additional comments:/ Commentaires suppl6mentaires: □ Coloured pages/ Pages de couleur □ Pages damaged/ Pages endommag^es □ Pages restored and/or laminated/ Pages restaurdes et/ou pellicul^es D D D Pages discoloured, stained or foxed/ Pages d^color^es, tachet^es ou piqu6es □ Pages detached/ Pages d^tachdes I I Showthrough/ Transparence Quality of prir Quality indgale de ('impression Includes supplementary materii Comprend du materiel suppl^mentaire I I Quality of print varies/ I I Includes supplementary material/ Only edition available/ Seule Edition dispcnible Pages wholly or partially obscured by errata slips, tissues, etc., have been refilmed to ensure the best possible image/ Les pages totalement ou partiellement obscurcies par un feuillet d'errata, une pelure, etc., ont 6X6 film^es d nouveau de fapon d obtenir la meilleure image possible. This item is filmed at the reduction ratio checked below/ Ce document est filmd au taux de reduction indiqud ci-dessous. 10X 14X 18X 22X 26X 30X X 12X 16X 20X 24X 28X 32X e Stalls IS du nodlfier ir une ilmage The copy filmed here has been reproduced thanks to the generosity of: Library of Congress Photoduplication Service The images appearing here are the best quality possible considering the condition and legibility of the original copy and in keeping with the filming contract specifications. L'exemplaire filmd fut reproduit grSce d la gSnSrositS de: Library of Congress Photoduplication Service Les images suivantes ont 6t6 reproduites avec le plus grand soin, compte tenu de la condition et de la nettetS de l'exemplaire film6, et en conformity avec les conditions du contrat de filmage. Original copies in printed paper covers are filmed beginning with the front cover and ending on the last page with a printed or illustrated impres- sion, or the back cover when appropriate. All other original copies are filmed beginning on the first page with a printed or illustrated impres- sion, and ending on the last page with a printed or illustrated impression. )S Les exemptaires originaux dont la couverture en papier est imprimSe sont filmSs en commenqant par le premier plat et en terminant soit par la dernidre page qui comporte une empreinte d'impression ou d'illustration, soit par le second plat, selon le cas. Tous les autres exemplaires originaux sont filmds en commenpant par la premiere page qui comporte une empreinte d'impression ou d'illustration et en terminant par la derni^re page qui comporte une telle empreinte. The last recorded frame on each microfiche shall contain the symbol —^^ (meaning "CON- TINUED"), or the symbol V (meaning "END "), whichever applies. Un des symboles suivants apparaitra sur la dernidre image de cheque microfiche, selon le cas: le symbole — ^ signifie "A SUIVRE", le symbole V signifie "FIN". Maps, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at different reduotion ratios. Those too large to be entirely included in one exposure are filmed beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to right and top to bottom, as many frames as required. The following diagrams illustrate the method: Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent dtre filmSs d des taux de reduction diffdrents. Lorsque le document est trop grand pour dtre reproduit en un seul cliche, il est film6 d partir de Tangle supSiieur gauche, de gauche S droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images n^cessaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la mSthode. errata to I pelure, an d D 32X 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 ^M I 111! r iMBii Mill !■ mn < mipniiiwiiii ^imiii aiir n iWin^jii w ■<■ ^^??f<»°i& nfnMan .a'J&au'j^s'vai'v-w^fftttt ti-naif J^^:! it >s.-*;.^i^jimgw\ .byA^^aatfA /■ fta ripawt i ' t w witti iftHiiNiiffjsawwatMWj^Jt ■ r.i ^tu^ .'WTV^r.N"^nA»-r^.' tttrrfv.v r^-^f^-'.7«.^^fr^^ap^s,n«wm^qwTOin^;«'•% Illustrations by Frank Merrill. VACATION IN PETROLIA C E. Bishop. . . 1. BouiNG FOR Oil. 2. Boating Oil. — Fond Fuesiikts. 3. Urs AND Downs ok the Oil Business. 4. Pumping Oil. — '• Torpedoing " the Well. 5. Marketing Oil. — A Fiery Freshet. 6. Prospecting for Territory. — Finding "The Belt." 7. The Flag-and-Wind.mii.l Well No. 2. — Conclusion. Willi 44 lUuslr.itions by Frank Merrill and otiicrs. AMONG THE RAFTSMEN Frank H. Taylor. 1. Making Rafts. 4. Running the Rapids. 2. Rafting. 5- O-^' the Rivkr. 3. Down the Crfek. 6. Foraging. —Conclusion. Willi s^ r.liistr.itioiis by //. /-. Stephens. THE CAMP IN THE GULCH Justin Dale.. . 1. The March. — The Camp. — The Lecture-Course. 2. The Saints in the Valleys in the Mountains. 3. The Shinomos. or the Artists of Nature. 4. The Unknown River. 5. Some Nodle Red Men. 6. Last D.\ys. — Farewell, Old Friends. With 26 lilustr.itions by W. L. Sheppard .ind others. GETTING ON SEA LEGS An Old Salt. . With 5 Illustrations by Frank Merrill. WHALING ON THE CROZETS An Old Salt. . Willi 2 Ilki5;r.-itions. ACROSS THE INDIAN OCEAN. • ■ ■ • An Old Salt. . Will- FuU-p.nge Illustration. GOLD MINING Chas. A. Hoyt. . With 6 Illustrations by .Ifiss L. B. Humphrey. PAGE • 7 23 71 103 146 157 163 169 ^^•.jk;'. I < -su ^ CONTKNTS. PAGE SILVER MINING Chas. A. Hoyt. . . .174 Willi 7 Illustrntiont by MUt L. B. Humphrey. A LONDON FIREMAN'S "NIGHT OF IT." R. M. Ballantync. . . 181 Willi 5 Illuslrations by Miss /.. B. Humphrey. SARDINK.S. Geo. W. Foxvlc. . . . iS; Where they come from, .\ni> how they ark caught. Willi 7 lUuslr.itioiis by Miss L. B. Ilumphrty. ICE BOATING ^^'- i'- Duncan. . . .194 Willi 3 Illiistr.iliiiiis. A BULL-FIGHT IN MADRID O/ivcr Optic. . . . . 198 Willi 7 IlUistr.uions. YACHTS AND YACHTING O/ivcr Optic 204 Willi 3 llluslr.uiiiiis. LITTLE BUILDl'-RS Saviiiel Burnham. . . 209 I. Beavers. 2. Termites. Willi 9 Illustrations. ON THl-: WAR PATH J. H. W. With :i'. Illuslr.ition. A STORY OF THI- OLDI-N TIMl-:. Willi 6 Illustrations. BAFFLED REVENGE. . . y.H. W. . .y.H. IV. Willi 2 Illustratirin-^ 216 222 231 235 THE BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL. . . T. W. Higgiuson. Willi 3 r.:'4''trations by Frank Mcrrili .md others. VIENNA Mary Granger Chase. .239 With 6 Illustntiuiis. ADVENTURES OF A WILD GOOSE. . Capt. C. IV. Hall. . . 245 With 5 Illusir.itions. REMINISCENCES OF WEST AFRICAN LIFE Ecki'ard Dusscault, Jr. 2t,2 With 2 llliistralions. ASHES OF ROSES Geo. M. Baker. . With 6 Illustrations by Miss L. B. Humphrey. 257 ♦• PAGE . • 174 . . 181 • . »"/ . . 194 . . 198 . . 204 . . 209 . . 216 . . 222 . . 231 . .235 ise. . 239 . . 245 t,7r. 252 . • 257 es had been promptly an- swered by the monosyllable "Here;" but as the principal heard the sixth name repeated, without an answer, ho frowned angrily, and made a gesture; the reader understood, and all was silence. " How long has Edward Boyd been absent, Miss Nye?" "This is the third half day, sir," answered the lady. " Is your cousin sick, Amory.'" The question was asked of a tall, pale lad, the son of the guardian of the absent scholar, — for Edward Boyd was an orphan, the only son of a sea captain, who had amassed much wealth only to die, leaving his motherless boy to the guardianship of Squire Amory — a grasping and unamiable man. It was well known among the villagers that the dead fa- ther's wealth hrtd been unable to secure either comfort or a happy home for his child among his envious relations. " He started for school yesterday morning with Sam Nevins, and hasn't been home since, sir," said Stephen Amory, with a slight sneer. " Father thinks he has gone to see his grand- father at Concord." At that moment came a sharp knock at the outer door: the monitor answered the sum- mons, and soon returned, followed by one of the constables of the town, who spoke a few words to the master in a grave tone. Mr. 8 T 1 1 1; c; R i: A T bonanza. Sfonc palod, thcti ilcarcil Iiis voice, aiul ail- dri'ssed the scholars : — "I am sonv to learn that lulwani litivd and Sam Xevins, who phiyed truant yesterday, \vere seen in a hoat at tlu- Old Ilarhor at the time, hy a fisherman, goiii^c outside. This niornim,' their hf)at ^vas found ailrit't, with an old suit of clothes in the holtom, and Mrs. Neyins has identified them as belontjintc to her son. It is feared that he ^vent in hathitifj, and thai sf)me sad accident has occurred, in which botli lioys have lost their lives." The silence for an instant was awful in its completeness; then a shriek was heard on the fjirls' side, and I-aura .\mory, a quiet, delicate girl of twelve, fainted in her seal, and all was hustle and confusion for a moment, while tears and sobs testified to the sorrow of the children for their lost [ilaymates. Miss Nye, however, with two of the older girls, took the insensi- ble form to the recitation-room, and Mr. Stone spoke again, in tones far different from his usual sharp accent : — " We will hope for the best ; and as the boys of the school are accustomed to spend their holidays among the wooded islands and the beech hills below, it is requested that you join the search for your missing companions. School is accordingly dismissed for the day; you will find at the pier several large boats ready to take you down (he harbor." It is not my intentio.i to describe the futile search, which lasted several days, or the use- less dragging of the oozy channels near the shore where the boat was found ; but neither " Ed " nor " Sam " was found, and the letters despatched to the different parts of the cou,n- try by the guardian of the former were only answered by expressions of alarm and svmia- thy. The village paper was full of unusual interest for a fortnight, with particulars of "A Mysterious Disappearance," "A Sad Occurrence;" and a liberal extract from the sermon preached by the good old minister, when there could be but little doubt that the salt sea had indeed swallowed up our play- mates. In poorer taste, and productive of much comment, was an address to the Sunday school by Mr. Amory, who drew from " a recent sad occurrence, a solemn warning to truant scholars and disobedient children ; "nor was the public indignation lessened when, in his wife's name, he laid claim to the entire property of his nephew, and obtained it, with- out paying even the cheap tribute of a marble slab to the memory of the dead boy. Poor Mrs. Kevins wept much over her lost boy; but the poor have many sorrows, and the widow's struggles to obtain a support for her tjiree remaining chiklreii soon blunted the poignancy of her grief, and the fate of both the boys was forgotten in the constant changes of human life, or reiallei! onl v by a few, who could scarcely I'orget the stout form anil rosy cheeks of luKlie lioyd, and the tliinly- dad lindis, and colorless, resolute face of Sam Nevins. That «as fourteen years ago. A long time since, as one of the elderboys, I had graduated from the luademy, and after six vears of stuf I ' om his hand. It was small, and written oi: a liirty fly leaf, in a painfully cranip.d hand. In ';■ ,)es to ascertain the cause of the attack, I read the short missive, which ran as follows : — "New York April 6 1865 Squier Amory this is too let you no that Eddy is Sick, and i am Afrade hee will Ay. I am Sick, to, the 'loktor ses, we hav tifuss fever, the mann who kepcs the hows Mr. James Tranor, ■MRWM lO THE GREAT BONANZA. I sais liee will doo his best, till yu kum. llee livs alt Number 123 east 34 Street. Kum rite awaj' 3'urs Samuel Nevins." The paper almost dropped from my hands, as I realized the cruelty and deceit of the man ■whose life I had just helped to lengthen. The fisherman's story was not without its bearing, then; and folding the paper, I placed it in my medicine case for future use, should time bring round a day of reckoning. On following the patient to his chamber, I found him much more comfortable; and making an appoint- ment for a visit the following day, I returned home. The next morning I found the old man sit- ting up in an easy-chair, and tried to draw from him the cause of his indisposition. I questioned him about his diet, inquired into liis occupation of late, told him I " knew that undue use of ardent spirits could not be the cause of it," and finally gave him the advice so often given to those similarly attacked, and so often neglected, or given too late, when it is impossible for the patient to follow it. "You must accept this first and slight at- tack as a warning; the next may be fatal ; but the third is a summons from which there can be no appeal. Medicine can do but little to rjd you. A light diet, very moderate exercise, avoidance of extreme heat and impure air, aiiu the enjoyment of what the apostle styles *a mind void of offence toward God and man,' will keep the life-torrent in its wonted channels, and prevent the suffusion of the brain." " Can you not give my son or wife direc- tions that they can follow, previous to your arrival, in case of another attack.'" " Certainly, although the chance of their materially aiding you is very remote indeed." The word " chance " seemed to excite him a little. " If you had had my experience, doc- tor, 3'ou would not sp^'ak slightingly of chances. I have known men on the brink of ruin, who had but one remote chance in their favor. They took it and are rich men to-day." I longed to teli him that I knew of the chance that had given me the clew to the fate of his lost nephew, so cruelly left to die in some obscure boarding-house of the distant city; but I saw the flush upon his face, and paused. I was a physician, and knew my duty. "You are getting excited. Squire Amory. The discussion would be interesting, no doubt, but you must rest until yOu are stronger." The gray eyes lost their keen, triumphant glance, and the successful plotter was lost in the enfeebled and apprehensive invalid. " You think that any unexpected and excit- ing emotion would be dangerous — do you, iloctoi .' " "I should fear the worst," said I, gravely, " although the third attack i.; generally tne fatal visitation. In your state of health, your life should be attended by the love oi those around you, and that calm hope of a better and higher life which secures the soul from the vexations and disappointments of this stage of existence." " I think I may claim such a hope, doctor, notwithstanding the slanders and backbiting of some who are but a hinderance and a scan- dal to the church in which I have been a member for thirty years." The color was rising again in his flushed cheeks, and raising an admonitory finger, I bowed and took my leave. Two years after that, a great surprise elec- trified Riverport, and set all the lovers of gossip in a perfect fever of excitement. Mrs. Xevins, at the close of a day of unusually hard labor, was returning homeward, worn out in body and mind, when suddenly, as she turned into the narrow lane that led from the main street to the door of her cottage, a man heavily bearded, but young and well dressed, accosted her, and asked her name. " Now don't be afeard, marm, for if I am a rough customer, I've come this time on a wel- cum arind to you ; thct is, ef you're the widder Nevins." "That is what I've been called ever since Joshua — that's my husband as was — was lost in the Arethusy." " Wal, my arind's soon done, if you can answer a few questions. You had a son Sain once, I b'lieve." " Yes, he was drowned long of — " " Ned Boyd, I s'pose you was about ter say. Say now, marm, I've heerd that story afore, an' know about the boat, an' the clo'es. Now, was there anything in the pockets.'" " Nothin' but a little Test'ment his teacher gin him at Sunday school, an' thet hcd — " " Exactly, marm, es you say, I s'pose; but could you let me see the Testyment, — that is, cf jou've no objection ter my goin' down ter the house with you." A ncj;ativc could scarcely be given, and the stranger entered the house, whose dilapidated walls and poorly furnished interior evidently caused him much surprise, as evinced by a low, but long-continued whistle. He, however, f I ' 't %, THE GREAT 130NANZA. II , triumphant :r was lost in rivalid. cd and excit- is — do you, d I, gravely, lenerally tne lioalth, your ove oi' thos^e 2 of a better he soul from ents of this lope, doctor, d backbiting e and a scan- lavc been a 1 his flushed ory finger, I surprise elec- le lovers of •ment. Mrs. jf unusually 5ward, worn denly, as she led from the jttage, a man ivell dressed, for if I am a me on a wel- re the widder d ever since as — was lost I if you can id a son Sam bout ter say. story afore, Now, Jo'es. s.'" it his teacher ;t hed — " I s'pose ; but nt, — that is, oin' down ter iven, and the ic dilapidated •ior evidently evinced by a lie, however, made no remark, but taking the book, held it up to the solitary candle for a moment, and then from under his ample cloak took a stout and heavy bag. ■'I'm satisfied, marm, that you're all right, and you'll be able after this, I veckon, to stay at hum an' take things easier. Ef I don't tell you all I might, it's because I hes strict orders, an' I alius keep my word. Look at tlie fly- leaf of the Testyment, an' you'll understand." So saying, he left his burden on ihe supper table, and strode up the lane, while his lis- tener, motionless with the struggling of conflicting emotions, could only watch his retreating figure, and wonder what new trial Heaven had in store for her. At last she mechanically opened the book, long kept in memory of the boy, whose loss had been one of the heaviest of the many attacks of adverse fortune. The book had been left in a mutilated condition, for a bright gilded prize-card, one of her few simple gifts to her wayward boy, had been torn from the fly-leaf on which it i;aj been pasted. The missing portion had been restored by the stranger: the little card, strangely faded, blurred, and creased, still bore the almost illegible legend, " For this my son was dead, ' and is alive again; he was lost, and is found." The children had already opened tlie bag and poured its little store of broad gold eagles on the rickety table; but even the conscious- ness of release from menial labor and cease- less care could not lurn the mother's heart from its veaT.ings after her lost darling. Taking her worn cloak and bonnet, she went out into the darkness, and sought everywhere through the little village; but no one save the landlord of the tavern knew anything of the stranger, whose horse had been fed while his master took his supper, and then rode off, without exchanging more words than, were needed to explain his wishes, and settle the bill. That same evening, however, I was again summoned to attend Squire Amory. who had once more been attacked by apoplexy. I lost no time in applying the proper remedies, and was again successful in restoimg him to con- sciousness. As we carried him to his room, his eyes met mine, and before I left, he feebly enunciated the words, "Come to-morrow." I nodded acquiescence, and returned to my office, to think over my duty in tiiis perplex- ing case. It was late at night when I slept, but I felt satisfied as to what steps to take, and my decision was final. On this occasion I found " the squire "much enfeebled, and greatly depressed. He was still too weak to sit up, and as I entered, Stephen, his eldest son, stood by the foot of the couch, leaning against the heavy rosewood post, with a half-threatening, half-sullen look on his pale, delicately-chiselled features. Tears were in the old man's eyes, and it was at once apparent to me that some topic of exciting interest had been considered, previous to my coming. I greeted my old schoolmate, but received no answer save a sullen "Good eve. ling," saying which, the young man left the room. ■' I am glad to find you better this morning, Mr. Amory, but I was in hopes that you would have escaped a second attack altogether." " Yes, doctor, and so did I ; but I have liad too much trouble, and a great deal of busi- ness, and last night a man called upon me, a.id his visit upset me altogether." "Why, Mr. Amory 1 I thought you a braver man than that. Did he oflTer any vio- lence .' " The sick man regained something of the old, stern, grave dignity which had so often awed me in boyhood, and I almost felt as in the vears gone by, when his seair'.iing eye had mar'a an entire class of unrriy boys tremble at the discovery of oi.;r raid o\i orchards and melon patches, or some petty act of insubor- dination, which had necessitated the interpo- sition of " the committee." " Can I trust you, doctor, implicitly, in a matter of the greatest importance.'" he said, witli a glance which was strangely compounded of trained sagacity and imploring helpless- ness. tSiSaisaSiSmSlmai, .r BlMIIBiJKxiiM 12 THK GREAT BONANZA. t "I came here this morning, Mr. Amory, with my mind fully m:ule up on one point; tliat is, to tell you that, in my poor opinion, the cause of your mahuly is one that 1 ran not reach with medicine or cure h\- ret;inien. If you ha\i' a mental anxiety uliich you wish tr communiiate, I will keep it as sacredly as tlv tratlitions of our profession demano, and I will do all that I can to aid you in anything in which I can be of an}- assistance to do away with the cause of \our disease." •■ I will tell you then." said the sick man, tremblingly. " I have lost all my property." "What .'"said I, in amazement; "lost all your property.' Vou. the president of the Riverport Bank, ami the largest stockholder.' The holder of so much real estate, and — " " It is as I say, doctor. Last year I was a rich man, and might have been still, if I had been contented to amass wealth in the old, safe way; but I dabbled in silver mining stocks, and a day or two ago an important lawsuit was decided against our company, and its stock fell from one hundred dollars to fifty-five dollars per share. I held three thou- sand shares, and I lost almost all that I was worth." " But you were worth nearly two hundred tliousand dollars, according to the general estimate, Mr. Amory; and that leaves you seventy-five thousand dollars, ev< n if your stocks should continue at their pr ;sent low figure." " I thought so, too ; but last night — There, doctor, I can't tell it. Take that pape- and read for yourself" I He handed me an envelope, bearing the well-known imprint of a legal firm of New I York. The letter enclosed made a courteous demand " for an account of the estate ci Edward Boyd, now resident in Virginia Ci'iv, Nevada, to whom you were appointed guar- dian in iS.sS." I felt that it would be both crue and useless to feign surprise, and wonder at such a claim from one long deemed among the dead, ..rd therefore took the straight road to an under- standing. " I have for some time had my doubts that your lost nephew was really dead ; and so this demand is not such a surprise to me as it would be to our fellow-townsmi-n. Will the claim ruin you. if enforced.'" "Wholly. The estate, with accumulated interest, amounts to over one hundred thou- sand dollars! The messenger who brought this — a rough miner, apparently — said that he would come for un answer to-niyht. ' I would advise ye,' said he, ' to pay more 'ten- tion ter this letter than ye did ter the one the sick boy wrote ter ye frum New York.' " Amory's I'eelings had evidently led him far- ther than he had intended to g- ai his com- munications to me, for he caught his breath, as if choking, and peered at me uneasily from under his long white lashes. " I knew of that letter two years ago. Mr. Amory, and therefore you need not hesitate. What else did he say.'" "I don't know how you came to know so much about my alTairs, doctor: but the rest of the story is short. ' The boys hev struck it rich,' said the stranger, ' an' they've sworn ter hev the last, cent you owe Ned. I reckon they knew how Ophir stock was like to pav, when they got Overburv to rope in the presi- dent of the Riverport Bank. Good night, stranger. I'll take your answer to-morrow night.' Now. doctor, \o\\ see my position. My fault has been punished with the loss of the work of a lifetime, and my unkindness brought forth its harvest of revenge. What shall I do.'" " There is only one way to do, and that is, to make the most complete reparation possi- ble. Give up everything, confess your fault, and seek a reconciliation." The door opened sharply, and Stephen Amory entered. His eyes blazed with rage and scorn as he rushed to his father's bed- side. " Are you mad. father," said he, " to listen to such cowardly advice.' Will you make your- self the byword of Riverport, and beggar Laura and myself.' What do you know of this stranger.' or who can tell but what this is some trumped-up claim, preferred by an im- postor.'" " Stephen," said the old man, " oe silent. Call in your mother and sister at once." The young man hesitated. " If you wish them to sec him again in life, obey him," I whisi.rcd, for I feared the worst, as I saw the increased color of the invalid. in a few moments the ladies entered the room. The squire motioned them to his bedside. ♦ " I once did a very wicked and cruel thing," said he, ■' and tlie God of the '';ithcrless has visited me in displeasure. Your nephew and cousin Edward is not dead, and as I, in my avarice, neglected his appeal when sick in New York, he has sought my ruin. Heavy losses of late have left me with nothing but the estate of his dead father, and now he sends to demand it. Stephen wishes me to stand a ^ 1 y more 'ten- ■ tlie one the ork.' " led liim far- .11 his coin- t his breath, iicasily from :irs ago. Mr. lot liesitate. to know so but the rest • liev struck ey've sworn i. I reckon like to pay, n the prcsi- lood niglit, to-morrow ly position. the loss of unkindness nge. What and that is, ation possi- i your fault, id Stephen 1 with rage ither's bed- , " to listen make your- md beggar now of this hat this is 1 by an im- " oe silent, nee." ?ain in life, :i the worst, invalid, mtered the :m to his t •ucl thing," lierlcss has ephew and si, in my sick in New eavy losses ng but the he sends to to stand a THE GREAT BONANZA. 13 1 suit at law. I am tired of strife, and weary of unjust gain. What sliall I do, wife.' What say you, Laura.' '" Mrs. Amory was not a lovable woman ; l)ut duty, with her, was an iron code, not to be set aside for love or fear. " If 3'ou feel that it is your duty to give up all, surrender the last cent, and the very roof above us." "And you, Laura, what say you, child?" said the squire, eagerly. Laura's eyes were full of tears, and her cheeks were as pale as death, but she kept back sill other signs of emotion as she answered, — ■' We shall not be poor, fatlier, as long as •we possess the love of God and the affection of each ;ther." The old man's face lost its threatening glow, and a look of calm contrition softened his liarsli features. The dying sun cast his de- clining rays into the chamber, and the invalid saw that night was near a*^ hand. "You have chosen well, I feel assured. The messenger who is to take my answer will soon be here, and shall be admitted to receive the message in your presence." At that moment, a quick, sharp knock sounded at the door, and the servant was in- structed to show the stranger into the sick room. His heav;, tramp up the broad stairs sounded menacing, and I met him outside the door. "Mr. Amory has had an apoplectic attack, a d the next will probably be fatal," said I. " He will give you his answer inside. Please to be as gentle as you can, and do not excite him." In the twilight of the corridor I could not distinguish the expression of my companion's face, but I fancied that his voice faltered as he answered, — "Never fear, stranger. I lies my orders; but I never strike a man when he's down." " Come in, then," said I ; and we entered. " I hev come fur your answer," said the stranger, advancing as noiselessly as his heavy- boots would admit, and stopping about mid- way between the door and the couch. The squire turned himself towards the fig- ure, with something of his old pride. " Had I been left to myself, I should have told you to do your worst ; but " (here his voice softened), " the hand of God has been laid upon me, and I have repented of my sin. It is hardly likely that I shall ever live to see Ed- wr. ' Boyd again, even if he were willing to forgive my unkindness, and the cruel silence with which I regarded his appeal to my prr- tection ; therefore I must tru^t my message to you. Will you carry it truly.' " " Thet is what I'm here for, squire. I hev no other arind, and Ned Boyd shell hear it to the last identical word." "Then, in the presence of these witnesses, I resign willingly to Edward Boyd all his estate, leaving to him to decide whether or not my heirs shall receive the sum due me as guardian, since he attained his majority. Carry to him my acknowledgment of my sin, and tell him that a dying man asks his for- giveness." "And tell Iiim," broke in the sweet voice of Miss Amory, " that his cousin Laura begs him, for the sake of the old days when they were children together, that he will forget the past, and be satisfied with regaining his prop- erty. Don't advise him to hate my poor fa- ther, for he has done all that he could." The rough voice faltered visibly, and the herculean form seemed less erect and tri- umphant, as the last words were spoken. " Ned Boyd didn't expect this change in the old man ; and I reckon he won't be over- pleased when he finds thet he's taken the last ore in the lead, and come plum agin the casin'. God bless you, miss; keep up your spirits, an' hope for the best. Good night, gentlemen; " and the messenger's heavy tread died awjiy through the hall ; then the door closed behind him, and his horse's hoof struck the spark' from the flinty road as the rough rider dashed away at headlong speed. Three days later, the mail brought to Mr. Amory another enclosure from the New York firm. It was a deed of gift " of the personal estate of Edward Boyd, as inherited from his late father." The enjoyment of the interest was deeded "to Hiram Amory, executor un- der the will : " but after his death, the prin- cipal went to "my beloved cousin, Laura .\mory." Another letter from Edward Boyd conveyed a full assurance of his forgiveness, and gave such a schedule of the fortune he had amassed, that the princely gift he had made seemed no such sacrifice, after all. " I shall visit Riverport to-morrow," he con- tinued, " and if you choose to meet me at the depot, I shall be happy to end all unpleasant- ness in a family ;eunion before I return to Nevada." The tears of joy and gratitude which the reading of that letter occasioned I had the pleasure of witno ing; and when the noon train arrived at Riverport, the family carriage bore the squire, well supported with cushions, ^ -> i. r\ '4 THE GREAT BONANZA. to the depot. A tall, wcll-drcsscd, kecn-e^'ed man stepped forward to the carriage. " Is this Edward Hoyilr "' asked the old man, tremblintjlv. The hrij^ht eves t;rew suspieiously tiioist as i the wanderer spraiii? into the harouehe and grasped his uncle's hand; and an hour later I all Rivorport knew that Ned Iknil and Sam , Nevins had come back I'rom the mines as rich as Crccsus I The next fortnitjht was a time long to be remembered in the Amory homestead; and among the pleasures of that season of re- joicing, the recital of the adventures of the truant lads was not the le.ist. The broad piazza, twined with climbing roses and wood- bine, was the auditorium, and the warm sum- mer evei\ings the time devoted to the relation. Sam Nevins, now a wealthy, self-poised stock operator, was alwa^'s one of the listeners, and the scpiire seemed to grow young again, us the sad memories of the past were forgotten in the peaceful happiness of the hour. As far as memory serves me, the following is a synopsis of a long recital taking up sev- eral evenings. In connection with recent de- velopments of the vast mineral wealth of that region, it is not without interest. Takixu Book, hi-; iilld iv lp to riiii soutauv C.sNDiii. I'age y. • The broad es and wood- e warm siini- the relation. THE F( -poised stock istciicrs, and ng again, :is " TT is ■*■ visi ere forgotten lour. and I coi ;iie following iking up scv- th recent de- •ealth of that ■ ')• PART THE I I. GREAT BONANZA. THE FOKTUNES OF THE RUNAWAYS. hardly necessary," said Ned, growing bly red in the face, " to say why Sam icluded to run away. I had plenty to cat and drink, and was well dressed, I suppose ; but I felt that I was not loved as were the other children. Sam had love enough, but a lack of food and clothing, which his poor mother tried in vain to supply in sullicient quantities. Accordingly we resolved, like the other boys we had read of, ' to go forth to seek our for- tunes ; ' and some months before we carried out our project, we commenced our preparations. " I had always received many presents of money, which for the most part had been de- \- -f posited in that curious earthenware money- "^ box which you all will remember. I knew of 1 several five-dollar notes, which I had carefully folded to enable them to pass through the nar- row slit in the conical top; and many bits of silver had I hoarded until I could exchange them for a new dollar bill to add to my stock. " When father died, the amount was consid- erable; and although my allowance was con- siderably reduced after that, I received, at dif- ferent times, presents which largely increased the sum total. " Sam and I agreed between us that we would go to sea; but Sam refused to leave his mother until her year's supply of wood was sawed, split, and piled. And many an afternoon we worked together, laying our plans, and talking of the sights we should see, until the spring was nearly ended, and our task was done. "The night before Ave started, I took my little box into the barn, and chipped a hole in the bottom. Sam was with mo, and I poured the contents into his hat. lie was evidently amazed at the amount of our capital ; and even I was astonished at the gradual accumulations of twelve years — for the first bill, one of ten dollars, had been deposited in it by my mother on my first birthday. We counted it out : there was in all one liundrcd and ten dollars and fifty-six cents. " Early the next morning I met Sam at the wharf, where we took an unoccupied dory, and rowed down the harbor to the cove where the boat was found. We hauled her up, as we supposed, above the reach of the tide; and Sam took off his oldest suit and put on one of mine. We each had a small travelling-bag, which I had passably furnished from my own *5 wardrobe ; and, walking over to the lower sta- tion, we took the early train for New York. " On our arrival we fell into the hands of a cab-driver, who plainly told us that he knew we were runaways, and readily coaxed and threatened us into boarding with him during our stay in the city. We had each about five dollars in our pocket-books, and carried the rest of our cash in bills, in the waistbands of our trousers, under the lining. He maiuiged to keep us until our visible cash was nearly gone, when the fever attacked one of his chil- dren, and the infection spread to nearly every person in the family. " Then it was that the rough, tricky cabman and his stout, hard-working wife showed, be- neath the compelled selfishness of their ordi- nary life, a tireless patience and humanity which I shall never forget. Thr^. weeks they took care of us, and, hearing nothing from you, sent us out to a dairy-farm, where, for our feeble aid in light work, we got our board until we were strong and well again. "Then good John Traynor wrote to us that he had got us a chance as waiter-boys on a clip- per bound for San Francisco. So we left the farm, and returned to the city. " The captain liked our api)earance, and en- gaged us at once, at eight dollars a month. As we bade Tmynor adieu, I produced a couple of ten-dollar bills, and begged him to take them as a (" irt of the sum he had expended on our account. " ' Take it,' said I. ' We have enough to pay our way, even with a little more expense than we are likely to meet. We will pay you the rest when we can.' " The great tears came into the rough fel- T" i6 mmm T 1 1 K GREAT 13 O N A N Z A . mmmm in low's eves. ' Take ycr money — is it? If I do, may I be — Tliero, I won't swear about it; but my liands will he woikcd to tlie bone afore I take a cint more from yecs. We've a little sum in the Savin's Bank, anil I 'Jon' know the dhrivcr in the city as has a bcttl-.er run of cus- tom. It's meself that lift a f^oocl home to sake me fortune, and met wid those that liadn't their lieart in the bit and the sup when a poor b'y wanted help. There, put up your money; an' whin ye come back from Californy, fetch me a bit of a lump of silver or gould, may be.' "The next night the swift 'Ranger' was off Sandy Hook, and ou'- sea-life had fairly commenced. Of course we had the usual ex- periences of green boys at sea. We were mis- erably seasick, and found our miseries only the subject of rough jests and careless laugh- ter. We were bullied by the petty officers, and teased by the seamen, and soon learned the hard lesson which every one learns who lives under the absolute and irresponsible power of one man. Not that Captain Howard ■was a harsh or cruel ship-master; for he was really a whole-souled, generous-hearted man, and, in sickness or misfortune, no one who had any claim upon his kindness had reason to complain. "At San Francisco he secured a charter to Calcutta and return ; and we agreed to remain on board the Ranger until she got back again to San Francisco. ' You chaps are pretty smart for such little shavers; but you're only fourteen now, and hardly old enough to take care of yourselves yet. Just stay with me another year, and I'll try and get you a berth in some store or other when we get back.' "We were easily persuaded; and for two years we remained on the Ranger. But at last she was ordered back to New York, and Cap- tain Howard, after vainly endeavoring to per- suade us to go with him, was as good as his Word in getting us a situation. " It was during the early part of the war, and the ship had been sold to the government for the transport service. The captain was to take her to New York ; and as there were al- ready rumors of rebel privateers in the South Pacific, she was pierced for guns, and fur- nished with four thirty-twos; a number of gun- ners and extra men were supplied from the navy-yard ; and it was not until the night be- fore she sailed that we were summoned to the cabin to be paid ofl" and discharged. " ' I am sorry, boys, to leave you here,' said the captain, ' for I've found you honest and reliable ; an' I've tried to do as well for you as a rough, uneducated fellow, that has worked his way up from before the mast, could. I had a good mother once, and, although you wouldn't think it, have tried to keep you from deviltry, and swearin', and such lik", as much as I could. We're a rough set, and the cabin of a liner isn't the place to learn much that is good ; but I'm afraid it's a deal better than t'le only place I can get for you now. " Sam and I looked at each other in nmaze- ment not unmingled with alarm. Could it be possible that we, who had witnessed so many boisterous, scurrilous, blasphemous sea cap- tains in their revels, were about to assist at orgies to which these should be comparatively innocuous, and even preferable. The captain laughed a little; but there was a trace of sad- ness in his tone as he continued : — " ' I don't wonder you look surprised, boys, for you've seen what we call some " gay old times " in this cabin, and found me, more than once, as poor a saint as I am a preacher. But the evil you saw then was in the rough, and disgusted you, I've no doubt; and much of the bad language you hoard was the result of rough training and ignorance more than of deep- seated wickedness. Now I've got vou a situa- tion something like the one you've had here, in a club-house, where some of the richest and best educated men of the city live together. They will teach you more politeness than I have ; you will wear finer clothes, sleep softer, and eat of the best the market affords ; but the evil which you see will be gilded by wealth, and learning, and style ; and you will find mean and wicked thoughts beneath the merchant's broadcloth, which the roughest sea-dog of our line would despise. "'However, I don't know that I've any right to talk in this way. People come here to California to get gold; and all the passions that fit m.n for hell seem to find this a good growing soil. Besides, I'm something like old Cap'n Barnes when he joined the church. He was a terrible rough, profane old fellow; and when he got real mad it took any amount of grace to keep him from swearing. At last he ripped out one day at a meeting about church matters, when a smooth-going member tried to play a pretty sharp game on the so- ciety. The minister, a good old soul, rose and called the cap'n to order, and reminded him that a Christian should be above reproach, and quoted something about keeping himself " un- spotted from the world." " 'The cap'n got up and said he felt sorry for what he had said, and begged the pardon of the members ; but he had told them, when he joined, what his failing was, and that he i %« -4 i. . PWPMP In nast, could. I , although you keep you from I lil'-, as much and the cabin n mucli that is better than t'.e V. thcr in nmaze- 1. Could it be ;ssed so many mous sea cap- ut to assist at comparatively . The captain \ trace of sad- irprised, boys, iome " gay old me, more than Treacher. But he rough, and id much of the result of rough than of deep- ot you a situa- u've had here, •he richest and live together, iteness than I s, sleep softer, fords ; but the led by wealth, will find mean he merchant's sea-dog of our that I've any ;)le come here II the passions d this a good tmething like d the church, le old fellow; k any amount ring. At last neeting about going member le on the so- soul, rose and reminded him reproach, and ■ himself " un- he felt sorry :d tlie pardon d them, when , and that he Jr THE GRi:.\T HONA.N'ZA. c> ■4 X was afraid he should bring scandal on the church. "But, said he, "our minister tells us that we are to be soldiers, fightin' the good fight against the devil an' all his angels. Wal, oiuc I knew a man who told me of u terrible fight with liijins, in which all the party was killctl but him. They was all round him, but siiigli>handed an' alone he fought through the crowd and got clear at last. One day this feller went in swimming, ttiic/ /lis skin httdii't a scar- on it. I set th.at man down as not much of a fighter any way. An' I think thet the ClA-is- tian thet lies no failin's can't have felt much" of the power of the temptations and wicked- ness of the world." " ' So, boys,' continued our worthy Mentor, ' perhaps it's just as well that you should see the other side of the card. Jf you determine to be honest and tnanlv, you'll come out all right. But don't let the weakness and mean- ness of any one destroy your faith in the good- ness of God and the kindness and generosity of mankind. Well, you've had my lecture, and here is the balance of your wages ; ' and after paying us off, our old .""riend took us up to the buildings occupied by the Occi- dental Club, and presented us to our new em- ployer. " Gerald Rushton, or, to use his popular cognomen. Col Rushton, was a middle-aged gentleman, with an air half military, half gen- teel, a portly body, and a sallow, flabby face, half covered with a huge mustache, and with a pair of large black eyes surrounded by those heavy, leaden-hued circles which tell of vita!- it3' wasted ' y unnaturally late hours and a life of dissipation. Perfectly polite in every word and action to all the frequenters of the club, never excited to pa«sion or awakened to en- thusiasm, he was a perfect master of a situation where the main points were to provide well for the animal comfort"! of the inmates, and to keep carefully from the outer world the hidden life of his customers. He received us coldly, and summoned the head waiter, who furnished us with the ui.Iform costmne worn by the em- ployees of the establishment, and assigned us to different stations. " Of the two years we spent there I care to say little, for much of what I heard is unfit to be repeated here, and the scenes which I witnessed in the luxurious parlors and around the card-tables of the club will never fade from memory while I live. True there were but few occasions when the men who were beggared in those stately rooms sought relief in self- murder, or avenged their betrayal to ruin by violence ; and the few exceptional cases were smoothed over by the inlUience of the mem- bers of the club, and the tact and self-possessed coolness of ' the colonel.' " We were, from the first, favorites with our superior, for our life on shijiboard, and our hardened constitutions, enabled us to do the ' night-work' of the institution with compara- tively little exhaustion from want of sleep. Much of our work was in attendance on the card-players, who seldom rose from their fas- cinating occupation until two or three in the morning. There I saw enough to convince me that Rushton was not the uninterested spectator that he seemed; and at last I found that his earnings as superintendent were but an unimportant part of the wealth he drew from an organized system of wholesale spoli- iltion. His victims were for the most part young men, who never dreamed that the men whom they honored as leaders in politics, law, and trade could lend themselves to aught more debasing than high play at cards ; or if they did suspect the truth, it was impossible to ver- ify their suspicions. " At last, one day, as I loitered by the side of the Pacific Mail steamer, which was just on the point of starting, I saw a tall, fine-looking man bidding adieu to a youth whom I had already noted as a fresh victim of the colonel's wiles. " ' Good by, Henry,' said the father. ' Don't stay here any longer than you can help, but be off to Washoe at your earliest opportunity. .Schaeffer and Scales need the money, and we want you at home with tlu? old folks a< soon as possible. Give my kind regards to Rush- .* w iS THE GREAT 11 O N A N Z A . ton. I sullpo^c you will stav at the Occidental a week longer.' "'Yes, father,' said the vnuni; man; 'I want to {live a lortniiilit to seeini; San Fran- cisco; besides, Rushton has yiven me intro- ductions to so maiiv men of considerable note, that I feel like pursuini,' the aciiuaintance far- ther." "'Well, Henry, do as you think best; but don't fail to set out in a week at farthest." "At this juncture the bell ran;;, and with the usual hustle, din, and hurry, the steamship left the wharf, and the younj^ man watched the sto\it vessel until, on the swift current of the relluent tide, she slipped through the rocky portals o( the Golden Gate. "There was something in the stately ten- derness of the father, and the manly affection of the son, which awakened me to a sense of mv duty in the premises. I looked around for the stranger. The ship had rounded the headland, and with an audible sigh the young man turned his face towards his new home. "' I believe you arc stopping at the Occi- dental," said I. " ' Yes, sir; I came there three nights ago. You are employed there — arc you not.'' " ' Yes, sir,' said I ; ' I am at present one of the attendants in the card-room." '• ' I thought I remembered your face. What can I do for you, my lad .' " j " • Nothing, sir. It was in the hope of do- ing vou a service that I took the liberty of ad- dressing you. I wish to give you a warning." "'A warning! Why, you are becoming quite mysteriously interesting. But, pardon me, sir, what have I to fear.'" " ' Nothing but the loss of your money ; but that, I fancy, would be serious enough in its consequences." " 'The deuce I ves, T shoidd think so. But how am I likely to lose it. my dear sir.'" " ' At the card tables of the Occidental." " The young man started. " ' Impossible. I know no one there except men too high in position to become gamblers, and of characters too well-established to be af- fected by anything which you or I could say." " 'You are right; and I shall say nothing. But I. perhaps, may be allowed to remind you c:f the leading events of last evening.'' "The voung man bowed his acquiescence. " ' You came in with Colonel Rushton and Mr. A., who introduced you to Senator D. and Lawver Y. You sat down to a game of whist, at half-dollar points. Before you went to bed at two, the game had been changed to draw poker, and you had lost heavily.' " ' You have used your eyes well, I must ad- mit. But such a succession of events might have been the legitimate result of a fairly- ]ilaved game. I see no reason, however, which shfiuld lead you to deceive me; and I will be on my guard.' " ' Let me give you one piece of advice, sir,' said I : ' never bet on any hand, however large, unless you have dealt the carite yourself; or, if vou must bet, wait, and " call " as soon as vou can. You will soon sec that, however good a hand you may hold, a better will be in the hands of one of your companions. I have seen the results of a difTerent course too often to have any doubts of your ruin if you despise my advice.' " ' I do not despise it, sir, and will test it to-night. If you prove right, I shall not be ungrateful. Will you give me your name.'' " ' Mv iiume is Edward Boyd, and I shall be on duty at the card room to-night. You will be invited to play again this evening, youniay be sure. We must part here. Don't recognize me at the house, sir.' "That evening, as I went up stairs to the parlor devoted to card-playing, I passed t'ne voung man, whose name I learned during the (lav was Henry Hunter. 'The senator.' as his companion was generally styled, was dis- plaving his really brilliant powers of conver- sation, and had evidently charmed tlie young man bv the bland richness of his voice and his vast fund of general information. At that moment the lawyer and Mr. A. met them. " ' Shall we finish that little game to-night.'' said the latter. ' Y. leaves for Sacramento to-morrow morning, and I suppose Hunter will be on his way to Washoe before his re- turn.' " ' Mv young frien ' and I have been having such a charming conversation that I hardly care to sit down in that close room with so inany players. Let me play the host to-night, gentlemen. — Mr. Rushton,' said the senator, raising his voice, ' send up some refreshments to my room : we are going to sit there this evening; and if you feel like dropping in upon us, don't use any ceremony, I beg of you.' "I caught Hunter's eye. He started, but instantly recovered his usual politeness and easy confidence; and the party went up to the luxurious rooms of the senator. At about midnight A. and Y. entered the card room perfectly furious. "'Did you ever see such luck.'" said the former. ' He has won back all that he lost 1 last night, and bet as if he suspected.' M THE GREAT BONANZA. '9 II, I imi'-t ad- vents might of a fairly- kvcvcr, which iiul I will be f advice, sir,' )\VL'vcr large, yourself; or, " as soon as lat, however tor will he in ions. I have irse too often f you despise d will test it shall not he )iir name .' ' tnd I shall he it. You will in<^, youniay )n't recognize stairs to the I passed t'ne lhI during the ■ senator.' as I'led, was dis- rs of conver- .'d the young voice and his ;)n. At that net them, me to-night.'' r Sacramento ipose Hunter jefore his re- ,' been having that I hardly room with so host to-night, ;1 the senator, : refreshments sit there this dropping in my, I beg of e started, but )oliteness and vent up to the >r. At about he card room ick ^ ' said the 1 that he lost ected.' •• ' Hush I ' interposed his more cautious le- gal companion. ' I'll lay my life that he does suspect: and the less said the better. But Rushtoii will take my place to-night, anil — ' 'J"he rest of the interesting conversation was inaudible. "The next morning Mr. Hunter beckoneil to me as I passed through the smoking-room. "' You were right,' said he, in a low tone. ' Can I see you anywhere alone by and bv.'' "'I am oil' duty at two. and sliall t:'.ke a stroll on tlic wharf. If you choose, I can meet you there ; ' and I jiassed on to finish my errand. '•At the hour aiijiointed I met Mr. Hunter. He acknowledged my timely services, am! an- nounced his intention of going to Nevada the next day. " ' I don't like to leave you here, for this is no place for a hoy like you. I wish I could take you with me.' " The cliance I had long desired had at Irjst presented itself. " ' I wish you would take me with vou. I can work hard, ami have wanted to go to the mines a long time. Have you no work for us to do? for 1 can't leave .Sam.' '• 'Tlien you have a friend.'' said he, laugh- ing. ' You have never told me about Sam.' Then I related our little history; and when he again spoke, the laugh had disappeared from his tone, and his soft black eyes were full of almost womanly tenderness. " ' You shall both go with me ; that is, if you can leave to-morrow, and are willing to trv the rough and weary labor of a miner's life.' " 'We were jKiid olT two days ago,' said I ; 'and .Sam has long been m-ging me to leave the service, for the night-work has already be- gim to tell upon us.' "The next day, at four I'. M.. Mr. Hunter. Sam, and my'lf were on board a steamer bound up the .Sacramento Rivtr, eu route for Washoe. At acramento we took the train for Folsom, where stages awaited our arrival, to convey us over the Sierra Nevada to \'ir- ginia City. " Of that long night-ritle I have many and varied memories. The first score of miles led us over a terribly cut-up road, from which vol- mnes of dust arose, choking the lungs, and hiding the deep dry ruts which threatened at every moment to upset the ponderous stage. But about an hour after leaving Placorville. where we stopped for supper, the roadwav be- came a hard gravel ; and, as the shadows deep- ened, we sped through the winding approaches which lead through threatening walls of cter- the narrow trestle-bridges which span the swift American and its granite-walled tributaries. The night was one of those clear, star-lit ones which give to every clilV and I'orest a blackness wliiih only served to throw into more startling distinctness the skeleton of some blasted tree, or the vast detached l;ouldcrs which lie scat- tered above the winding road which leads up to the summit. " Strewn over the mountain-sides, as if flung by those Titanic warriors who essayed their mighty prowess in vain against the Iiosts of heaven, many rested upon a base so narrow, and apparently insulVicient, that more than once, as I awoke with a start from a momen- tary doze, I repressed with ililliculty a cry of alarm, as at some sudden turn a huge fragment seemed about to crush us in irresistible descent. "At three A. >r. we reached the simimit, and saw afar off on the horizon the pearl v flush that men call 'the false dawn.' The air was chill, almost frosty, for we were eight thousand feet above the level of the sea. "The next six miles was a headlong rush downward along ' the new grade.' a shelving road, winding along the side of the mountain, without post or rail between the road-way and the abyss whose rocky bottom lies hundreds of feet below. The sun rose as we passed be- neath the lofty cUIV where the pine-crowned I'oint-of-Rocks overlooks the linij'.id waters of Lake Tahoe, and after crossing 'The Di- vide ' beyond the Glenbrook Station, we passed through Carson Silver City and Gold Hill, and entered the devious streets of Virginia City thirty-eight hours out from .San Fran- cisco. '■ For the last few miles all traces of natural licauty had been lost in the unceasing strug- gle which for five years past had been waged between human skill, with its armies of la- borers, and wealth of scientific ajipliances, and powerful engines, and the grim walls and ledges of inetamorphic rock, which for ages had faithfully guarded the treasures of the moun- tains. " fiangs of miners covered with mud, or white with dust, issued from the bowels of the earth, or disappeared into rocky fissures like the gnomes of German story. The air was full of penetrating rock-dust and the poison- ous vapors of the snielting-furnaces. Tall pillars of iron boie up the vast pulleys of the hoisting apparatus, which at once carried the miner down to his task a thousand feet below, and raised 'to the bank' huge buckets of gray ore worth a king's ransom ; and the way 20 iiii: (iRi:AT noswAx. was almost cliokoii witli wa'^ons ami vcliiilos boariiiLf now inai'liiiierv, fooil.aiul floods ol'all kiiuls to llio Illinois" citv. " Wo WL'io woll ivcoivt'il l)v Messrs. Stliai'f- foraiul Soali's. two lonMLCii ijcntloiiion, of lart^c iiii!iint{cNpt.Ticiuc', who, villi the uUlc-.' Hunter, owned a large interest in one of the prineipal mines. Ilem-y Hunter was to l)o the head book-keeiier of the eoncern.and at onee stated his wishes eoneerniiii; us to tlie niana^irs. " SehactVer, a nervous hlack-lieariled (ier- inan from tlie Ilartz Mountains, auswereti, in his t|ui(k, kind way, — '" Certainlee,deysliall liave a sitnrHion ; I)ut dcre is just now no place, eMept dey sail work in de mine, or wateh de works of reiliieti-on.' " ' Vou won't find the first so pleasant as ^our duties at Frisco, I'm afraid,' said Scales, a blulV Knglishman, who had served a long apprenticeship in the mines of I'otosi. ' lUit there's a better chance for you to learn there what may yet make both your fortunes.' '' We both decided to work in the mine ; and Scales promised us eighty dollars a month and our board. "'It is not commonly done ; but we owe you a debt, and you and your friend shall live with Us as long as you st.ay in Virginia City.' " We accordingly gladly accepted the offer, and the next day went down the shaft with Schacffer, who called our attention, here and there, to the rocks which, dripping witli con- densed moisture, and frosty with gathered dust, still showed here and there a glimmer of white or rosy quartz, a glint of semi-transparent or snowy spar, or the grayish-red surface of frac- tured hornblende. " ' I do suppose,' said our voluble guide, as we rapidly descended into the apparently bot- toml(»s abyss, ' that you sail be dis-apointetl that you see no silfer. But you sail seldom see silfer, as dey do find gold antl copper, in threads through de solid rock. Now, dere.'he said, as we shot by a narrow opening, evidently a cross-gallery, ' dat was our best ore, and we did get seven hundret dollar a ton from some of it; and yet you would not pick up a itiece of it on de street, unless to trow at a dog.' " ' And do you never find silver in visible quantities.'' asked Sam. " ' O, yes; in Norway, at Konigsberg, dey did find one inass of silfer as long and as big as a mans, and dat weighed nearh' five hun- dret pounds. Den in Mexico and Peru dey do often find pure metal in large pieces. But we do never do so here. Dere has been, however, in some mines, large pockets of what we do call de horn silfer, or what de chemists do call de " iiatif chloride of silfer." |)is is often three ipiarter parts rii li in i>imv metal, and,' lowering his voice, ' I has sometimes found a very leetle in dis mine.' " At last we reached the lowest level, a thou- sand feet below the surt'ace, and were set at work by an o> erseer, to whom we weie cspi - cially recommeiuled by the kind-hearted (ier- nian ; and in a few days we hail settled ilown to the monotonous drudgery of silver mining. " For two years we worked thus; aiul Sam became especially skill'ul as a miner, and his judgment in the matter of oie became won- ilerl'ul. There was not a shaft, level, cross- cut, or win/e in the district of which he ilid not carry in his head a complete mining-chart ; and at last he was always taken into council when a new mode of api)roach was proposed; and his pay had been proportionally ad- vanced. '■ As for me, my health could not stand the hard labor so well, and under Mr. Scliaefl''er's direction I became quite an expert in the rv- d'u-ing process, by which the metal is sepa- rated from the rock, ami the copjier, sulphur, arsenic, lead, and other substai»ces, with ono or all of which it is nearly always associated. "In 1S65 nearly all our works were founded on the Mexican amalgamation process, said to have been invented, in 1557, by a certain miner of Pachuca, named Bartholomew de Medina, although SchaelVer used to assert ' dat my countrvnicn of de Suabian mines did practise dat long ago.' As carried on in Mexico, the ore is reduced to jiowder by stamps, and then transt'erred to the rudii crushing mills, or ar- iwcpt the finest of the ,t,'ray mud throu^^h a thin wire screen into the amaluamalini; pans — L,'reat 'jacket- ed ' tubs of metal kept hot with super-heated steam. In these constantly revolved liuj,'e miillers, which intimately mixed the pasty ore with the mercury which was fietpiently sifted into the pans, and sei/.eil every particle of pu- rified i^okl and silver. .Salt and sulphate of copper were used to destro- 'I'o ailmixture ol baser metals, iiud the constant llow of turbid water which ran from the pans was carrieil off in broad wooden trouL;lis. called ' sluices.' lined with coarse woolly blankets, and obstructed with ' ritlles,' or small horizontal trouijhs filled with quicksilver, to arrest the minute particles of silver, which would otherwise have been lost to a large amount. " Every week the workmen at the mill ' cleaned up.' Clearinvf the crisp, heavily-laden quicksilver from the pasty mud which it bad robbed of its treasures, they made it up into lari;e halls, which were afterwards placeil in a retort, whose heat soon dissipated the mercury in vapor, leavim; cliiiid only a compact lump of frosty, f,'listenini{, spongy gold and silver. Of course care was taken not to lose the cpiick- silver, which was saved by cooling it in a con- denser, and galliering it in a reservoir of water. •'In 1S70 I bad worked five years at silver mining. Hunter was now the agent of the company in his native city. Scales had dab- bled in stocks in other iiiines, 'struck it rich,' and gone 'home' to Fngland. .Sam was in his place, and I had taken Hunter's, while Schaelfer still stuck manfully to the task- of making the ' Consolidated' pay. " The outlook was jjoor, for our expenses were enormous, and heavy divideiuls. paid in periods of transitory success, had reduced the resources of the mine at a critical period. " One night SchaelVer came home to our ' bachelor's hall ' in despair. " ' Everyting goes against us. De ore in de fourteen hundred foot drift gets worse and worse, and seems to pay less than reducing rates.' "To understand what follows, you will re- member that we were working for a vast cor- poration, comprising thousands of stockhold- ers, holding shares who;: ' nominal value was one hundred dollars apiece. The owners, managers, and even the workmen, had a right to buy stock ; and for some years Schaelfer had invested the most of his earnings in the stock of the company, which was now at about eight dollars per ' foot.' " I trieil to cheer him ii]> ; but he seemed to have given up all hope, lor the ahaiiiloiiment of the minewouhl lea\e him almost penniless. Suddi'iily we heard a rush of men outside, and a call for the supcrinteiuUnt : and a si'coiul later a m;iii rushed in sobbing as il' his heart would break. '■• What's the niatli'r, Jack.''s;iid I; 'any- thing wrong at the mine.'' " ' Matter enough I ' saiil the fellow, a rough miner, who had been .Sam's favorite workman, tiKiugh no one else cared to have anything to ilo with him. ' The cross-drift from the new wiii/e ' (a narrow shall not a part of the main shaft) ■ has caved in, and .Sam Nevins is killed!' " ' Mein (iotti Was nnglnck is das.'' cried the (ieniian, awakened from the contempla- tion of his own misfortunes. 'Here, Jack, how did it haiipcn .' Tell it to me (piick. Per- haps dere is yet a hope.' " ' I'm afraid it's all up with poor Sam. I low- e\er, I'll soon tell you all that I know. \'ou see, Sam set Johnson and I to sink this wiii/e, an' one ilay he came down, an' after fakin' a look at the rock, he said, "Jack, cut a drift tliar." Wal, we ran in about twenty feet, an' pillareil it up, for tliar was a bangin" wall, ami things wasn't over safe. To-day Sam come down an' found Johnson coming out. "' Wliar ye goin', Johnson.'" said he. " Out o' this," ses Johnson : "them posts are cracking like all possessed, an' I just got a jielt of a stone from overhead." "All right," says Sam. "I'll goin for a moment; "and then he come in with Johnson's can'le and pick. " ' Wal, I'd been at work along the bangin' wall, and h-t-d made a little hole to the south- 'ard, jist about large enough to sit upan'\»oik in. He just gin a look at the bangin' wall, an' got into the little cove, when I heard him say something. I stooped to listen, when about a bushel of fragments tlroppetl on my back, an' I heard the posts rippin' an' crackin' all round me. All I remember is, dodgin' an' twistin' among them props, and reachin' the winze just in time to be hauleil up byjolinson before the hull cross-drift caved in.' " ' Come on, men ! ' said Schaeffer, seizing 1 his hat: and following his example, we rushed to the mine, and desceiuled to the level from whence the exploring shaft had been sunk. " It was now filled up, the earth and rock having fallen away from the receding wall, aa Till". (JKKAT nONANZA. which Inv ban- wIhto a wide ticviii.' inarkcil tlic IliK" of ill ava^'o. "'Jai-k, will Mill li^k vom lil'i' <>m tlio iliaiiri ?' said SiliailViT, kiiidlv. •• 'I'lu- (-toiil miner never faltered dr hesi- tated . •• • I't' it was i|iiiiksa:id or wet ilav, wliiili il i^n'l. he'd do as iiiuih Tor me." •■ ' I )eii iMlhiiv down dal ireviee. ilere, and dii,' elii^e |() de r,'uini,' rapidly in tiie ranj^e indicated. " At first the work was easy and eonipara- tivclv safe: hut hy mornini;. when they struck the broken supports, the loose earth anil fraif- ments of rock threalened cmtv moment lo bury our friend and his would-be saviors in one common tomb. I'inaily Jack cried out that wc had found him: and we drew up the limp, insensible body, and afterw;irds tlie ni'- tier, worn out with latiicue and sorrow. " A litter was improvised, and the body of our friend taken to the shaft, where it was raised to the surface and cjuried to the bouse. For !i loni? time all ell'orts iit resuscitation failed: but at last Sam knew lis; anil the doc- tor said that he would live. " I watched with him that day, :uul about noon he woki- and seemed to know me. lie tried to speak, but all that I could diNliuLfuish was 'Look here: huv stock: 'ami he molioneil to his breast, :ind then a-jain sank into ;i kind of doze. His clothes lay on the cluiir beside me; and taking his ronifh vest, I tried the inner pocket. It was t"ull of a curious black material, of a friable nature, and amoui; it were one or two lumps of an opaque, horn- like substance, whose weii^ht bore witness lo its mineral nature. We had ' struck it rich ' at last. It was native chloride of silver. " I called SehaelVer in, and showed him the specimens. I shall never forget how he lis- tened impatiently to my story of where I pro- cured it, and how be ,embr;iced me when he found that Sam's nearly liital adventure had brought us the I'orUiue we had almost de- spaired of. •' 1 ijot leave to i;o to San Francisco at once, for the day we had long been preparing tor had come. For ten years Sam and I bad saved our joint earnings; for ever since the d:iy when we broke open the stone-ware money- box Me have had one purse. " We were worth about fil'teen thousand dol- lars, and before the end of the week I had bought at the broker's .board lifteen hundred shares ol' ■ Consolidated ' stock. It cost on an average ten dollars a share. Two weeks later the shares li:iil gone up to fifty dollars. I want- ed to unload; but Sam kept run of the lead, :uiil tidd me to hold on. "We sold out at two hundred dollars, and mjide, of course, nearly three hundred thou- sand dolliirs, .Since then we have bought and sold stocks, and have manijndated millions of dollars. We vowed to ruin you: but. bapjiily. we 'earned in time of your ill health and changed feelings towards me. Your shares in 'Ophir' are a good investment, :ind, if you hold on patiently, you will regain your losses," The night sh:ules had begun to gather. .Siinire .\mory ro^e to go in, and the rest fol- lowed bis example. Laura iUone stood look- ing to seawiud from the rose-entwined jioich, Edward suddenly joiiied her. ••[must return to Nevada," said lie, " un- less vou can give a I'avorable answer to my ipu'stion of last night." '•You know, Kdward, that I :dw:\ys lo\ed you: but my father may be taken away at any lime; ami you have too much yonder to sac- rilice for me." "So. Laura, r.o: I do not think so. Wide- -piead as ;ire the ledges which stand where once curled the liery waves of a molten se;i ; dee]! a-- iue the shafts which follow the narrow veins, ^hot with precious metals, to their central sources far below the reach of e\en man's tireless search for wealth ; vast as are the riches which still aw;iit the dauntless seeker, — still, contentment is the source ol' all happiness, and love is not to be sold I'or a little more gain." .\nd later, when the whole earth was ring- ing with tidings of the vi-.st wealth of the mines of Nevada. Kdward Boyd sat one evening by the window, gazing abstractedly into the star- lit ^ky. His paper had fallen from his hands, and his voung wife knew what had taken jios- session of his heart. With the little Kdward in her arms, she glided to his sitie. '• .\re you sorry that you did not go back.'" she said, tenderly. The vision of the fierce contlict of warring interests and 'splendid successes, which had temptetl him t'or a moment, faded away, and the llush passed I'rom bis face as Ic answered. — •• 1 have enough :uid to sp:ire, and :ill that can ennoble the soul or enlarge the under- standing is spread out before me. Why should 1 care to leave home and friends, :uid :i love bevond price, to join in yonder heartless strife, although the prize were the richest lead of Tmi: Gri;.\t noN.\NZ.\?" J m M 'f V I ; r R ( ) M A , »3 ro week-' later )lhl|•^. I want- Ill 111 tlie Icail, il iliillars, aii'.l luiulicil thoii- ve liimylit anil L-il millions of ; liut, happily, 11 lieallli ami Your shares ineiit, and, if II ii'i;ain your m to L;atlier. 1 the rest fol- le stood look- Iwineil ))orch. said he. " un- inswer to niv always lo\ed n away at any ■oiuler to sac- Ilk so. Wide- lul where onee ten sea; deep narrow veins, their eentrrtl it' e\en man's %are the riehes -eeker, — still, ;ill happiness, a little more irtli was rini{- h of the mines le evening by ■ into the star- DHi hi- hands, Kill taken jios- little Kdward de. not go baek.^" ict of warring ;s. whieh had Jed away, and 1? aiisweied. — •, and all that ge the under- . Why should .Is, and a love icartless strife, idlest lead of «l» VAOATION IN PETROLU. I. BORINa rOU OIL. ARTHUR and Fred had an invitation from their uncle Charley to li-it him in the oil regions, and see how petroleum was taken from the depth* of the earth. Their parents consented to their spending " the long vaca- tion ■' there. They needed little baggage, ex- cept an old suit of clothes and a strong pair of hoots, each — so their uncle wrote. Little I.cdu wanted them to "brin' her some oil to ilease her haa," and she carefully tucked a hot-" tie into the corner of their trunk for that pur- pose. As they left their pleasant Massachu- setts home, the last thing they saw was Lulu laboriously waving a towel, in lack of a hand- kerchief; and the last thing they heard was her piped injunction, "Don't fordet my oi-el ! " Uncle Charley nut them at Titusville, and went with them down (3il Creek. Leaving the cars a few mdes below Titusville, they went by a road which wound its way among rocks and stunted trees up the steep mountain- sides, and reached the tract on which was uncle Charley's lease. 'I'liey were ania/ed at the number of derricks they saw. There were derricks everywhere — on the level all along the creek, and scattered all up the steep sides, and on the very tops of the blulVs, in places where it did not seem possible for a derrick, or even a man, to stand. The greatest won- der of all was how men ever raised the big engines and p-^nderous machinery to places where one could not climb without grasjiing roots and shrubs to keep from falling. Arthur said the derricks looked like skele- tons of pyramids. "No," said Fred; "they look like frames to build lots of Hunker Hill Monuments with." On the tract where uncle Charley's lease is there were thirty wells drilling or in opera- tion, and the scene was one of life and inte<-est, instead ofthe wildness and desolation they had expected to see. The forest of spectre-looking derricks, the smoke and steam of the engines, the clatter of bull-wheels, the " whir " of sand-pump reels, the shouts of teamsters and miners, the constant coming and going of mud-bespattered men in long boots, some prospecting for leases, some buying and some selling oil, others arranging for the boring of new wells, — all this made up a strange and exciting life. The boys took a deep interest in the busi- ,ness, and begged to sf.y at the wells all the time, instead of at Titusville, with an occa- gioiial visit to the wells, as their father had planned. Uncle Chnr'.'y. who remembered his own boyhood better than most men, and appreciated a boy's love of adventure, in- dorsed their petition, saying. " Why, let 'em stay, John. They can get their meaU at the boarding-house with the men, and I will have n bunk built for them in the shanty where the rest sleep, and 1 warrant they will like it. They wouldn't be easy in Titusv>'ie a d.ny, after catching the excitement ofthe h.i-i- ness. Afeit who t.i-te this life want to stay in it." So it was an-anged, and the boys enjoyed it fron. first to last. Their mother's anxiety about their health, in such an unaccustomed, rough mode of lite, was groundless. Lvery- body was well. The men attributed it to the oil with which they were covered, and the gas of which they breathed. One of them told the boys that, if they wanted to enjoy good health, they should take a swim every morn- ing in one of the tubs of black, odorous grease. Probably the bracing air, pure water, active, rugged life, and plain fare, had as much to do with good health as the oil and gas. The men who had the contract to bore uncle Charley's well were just beginning oper- ations. The boys soon were on intimate terms with them, and asked many questions. They made themselves cpiite useful in handii.g tools and nails, and going on errands; and, as they were well-behaved boys, abroad as well as at home, and took care not to get in the way, the workmen were glad to have them there. The first thing was building the derrick. They commenced by nailing strips of plank together at the two edges, forming a half square. Fred asked if those were troughs to run the oil in. The men smiled, and said they were for the corners of the derrick. Four of these they set up on end twenty feet apart, leaning them a little towards each other, and spiked strong cross-pieces and braces from one to the other. Then another section was built on the top of this, in the same way, still leaning towards the centre, until, when the derrick was fifty-six feet high, it nearly came to a peak in the centre. On the top they fixed two iron pulleys. Then they laid a strong floor in the derrick, and nailed pieces at one corner to make a ladder to the top, and the derrick was fin- ished. Arthur and Fred were as much delighted with the tower as if they had built it 'iiem- selvcs; and, indeed, they had helped. Arthur climbed the ladder, and stood on the pulley- frame at the to| . A mixed panorama was spread out before him. Far away extended ...«. — wttiJW. mmm/ «w I II 24 PETROLIA. the valleys ^f Oil Creek and the Allephanv River, with tlic Allegl .in_v Mountains on eacli side. All the expanse of mountain and val- ley was dotted .vitli derricks and engine- houses. Even beyond where he could dis- tinguish these he could tell the location of many oil wells by the putVs of steam, which made white llecks on the dark background. He gave three cheers for the new derrick, in which Fred joined from below, and then went down. How would his mother feel if she had known what he was doing! Fred v.anted to go up also; but liis uncle, thinking he was too small for such a ven- ture, told him that he might buy a Hag the next time he went to Titusville, and hoist it at the top of the derrick, and then he could claim the only American Hag on that tract. Fred did this the very next day. One of the men put at the peak a slender tlag-staft' for him, and the stars and stripes made a fine appear- ance, Fred thought. "I am Columbus!" cried he; "and I have taken possession of this oil country, and raised the American flag in the name of the Continental Congress." Fred's history was a little out of joint, but he was as enthusiastic as a man who discovers a new country and tnakcs history. The bo3's then went with a gang cf men into the woods to cut timber. They felled several large trees. First they hewed a stick fifteen inches square, and cut it olf thirteen feet long; and cut a tenon on one end. This, the men said, was the samson-post. Fred > thought it was strong enough to be called " Samson." Then they hewed out two more lar£.' tim- bers, and cut them fourteen feet long. These they fitted together like a cross, and cut a mortise in the centre where the sticks crossed. These were the bed-timbers for the samson- post, and the mortise was to receive the ten- on of it. All these weie hauled to the der- rick. The cross-timbers were firmly bedded in the ground by digging, and the samson- post set up in the mortise. Strong braces were set up from each end 01 the bed-timbers to the top of the post, and spiked there. All this made the post very firm. " Xow," said Mr. Bowers, the foreman of the wc-k, "we must cut a walking-beam." Fred thought he meant a cane, and asked his uncle where they were going, that thuy needed walking-sticks. Uncle Charley said the right name of the stick was " rvotkiiiff-hc:^m." This was hewed out twenty-four feet long, ten by sixteen inclns in s!z.< at the middle, and tapering out to eight inches square at either end. Now they bolted an iron to the top of the samson-post, and on the middle of the walk- ing-beam another iron to fit into it. Then, with all the help they could get, thev raised the beam up to the top of the samson-post, and balanced it tuerc, by fitting the irons to- gether so it wou'.J rock easily. The post and 1 working-beam were so placed that one end of the beam was in the derrick, over its centre the spot where the well must be. •'O, what a splendid teeter!" cried Fred. And he and Arthur climbed up the braces of the samson-post to the top of the working- beam, '• hitched " along to the ends, and "see-sawed" a long time. ■^Vhile all this work (and play) had been going on, teams had hauied the steam-engine and other machinery from the railroad up to the derrick. " Now," said Mr. Bowers, " we'll put up the bull-wheel." The bull-wheel had been brought, ready- made, from Titusville. It is a turned shaft of wood, eight inches in diameter, and eight feet long, with J six-feet wheel set on near each end. The spokes of the wheels were left un- covered at the end, so that the men could take hold to turn tlie shaft, as a pilot does the wheel by which he steers a boat. The sides of the wheels facing each other were boarded up smoothly, so that the arms would not catch the rope while winding it on the shaft between the wheels. On the outside of one of the wheels was fastened a large grooved pulley; this was to receive a rope-belt from the engine to drive the bull-wheel. The men hung the bull-wheel by iron journals, or gudgeons, in each end of its shaft, so it would turn freely. It was placed in a frame between the legs of the derrick, at the side opposite to the work- ing-beam. Arthiu- and Fied set to work to wind the drill-rope on the bull-wheel shaft. As this was a heavy cable, one and a half inches in diameter and several hundred feet long, it took the boys a long time to coil it on the shaft; but the}' persevered, and finally got it nicely wound. They called it their kite-line and spool, and tried to guess how large a kite the cable would hold. The next thing was the band-wheel. This is set in a strong frame, called the jack-frame, and placed so that one end of the brnd-vvhcel shaft comes direct!}- under one end of Mie working-beam — that end which is out of the derrick. The band-wheel is six feet in diame- ter, and has a six-inch face, on which is to be placed the driving-belt of the engine. On one side of the wheel is a grooved pulley, like that I -:? "f he top of the 5 of the walk- ito it. Then. t, they raised samson-post, the irons to- The post and 1 at one end of er its centre ' cried Fred, the braces of the working- e ends, and ly) had been steam-engine ailroad up to "11 put up the lught, ready- rned sliaft of ind eiglit feet m near each were left un- ;n could take nes the wheel sides of the boarded up Id not catch haft between one of the oved pulley; m the engine en hung the gudgeons, in 1 turn freely. 1 the legs of to the work- to wind the [ift. As this M inches in long, it took in the shaft; jot it nicely ite-line and ge a kite the vheel. This ; jack-frame, : br.nd-'.vhcel end of 'he is out of the :et in diame- liich is to be ne. On one ley, like that If 1' !•: T R O L I A . 25 "r I on the bull-wheel, on which the rope-belt is to be run. On one end of the band-wheel shaft is a crank, which is to be connected with the end of the working-beam above by a pitman ; when the crank tvirns and the pitnnn is on, it will work the beam up and down. On the side of the band-wheel farthest from the derrick they set up the sand-pump -eel. As this reel is to wind a smaller rope on, it is made smaller than the bull-wheel shaft. The sand-pump reel is turned by a friction-pulley oti one end of it. The pulley can be moved. in its frame, and made to bear against the face of the band-wheel at .". point where the driv- ing-belt does not touch the face of the wheel. The frame of the reel is moved by a lever in the derrick, so as to force the friction-pulley against the band-wheel, or take it oiVand stop the reel, at the pleasure of the man in the der- rick. As the friction-pulley is much smaller than the band-wheel, the sand-pump reel turns very fast when the friction-pulley is "in gear." After the reel was up the boys threw it " out of gear" by the lever in the derrick, ami then they reeled the sand-pump rope on. The engine and boiler were now put in place, a few feet from the band-wlv.el; a belt was put on from the driving-wheel of the engine to the band-wheel, and they were reatly to " ru.i." When the friction-pulley was forced against the band-wheel the sand-pump reel would turn. When the pitman was put on the crank of the band-wheel the working-beam would rock on the samson-post. When the rope-belt was put on the band-wheel the bull- wheel would turn and wind up the drill-rope. Thus the band-wheel could be used in three ways. An engine-h-'us ; was now built over the engine, and a litt:.' shed over the band-wheel and band to protect them. In the engine- house they also put up a blacksmith's forge, where they could mend their tools, sharpen the drills, iVc. In the derrick they ')uilt a shed to shield the men from the weat.. •-, and from the mud, water, and oil, which would drip iVom the ropes and tools when drawn out of the well. The first step in sinking the well, the boys learned, is to drive pipe. As far down as there isonlvearthorsmall stones. and until solid rock is met, iron pipe can be driven without drilling. To drive this pipe, the workmen set up in the centre of the derrick two strong plank slide- ways, twenty feet high, fiftec:'. inches apart, taking care to make them perfectly perpendic- ular, and fasten them secure! v. B.'tween these thev hung a heavy pile-driver. The loose end of the drill-rope was nov/ carried up to the fop of the derrick, jiassed through the big pulley, and down to the battering-ram betweeti the slide-ways. The drive-pipe is cast-iron, six inches inside diameter, and of various lengths, the walls or shell of the cylintier being about an inch thick. Fred said a ]iiece would make a ^^'■od cannon, if one end oould be plugged up and a vent made. Arthur tliought it looked like Lord Rosse's tele- scope; as neither of the boys had ever seen a big telescope, they agreed that the pipe did look lil.e one. TheentI of the pipe first start- ed into the ground is shod with steel, that it may better fo.xe its ,vay: and the upiier ei.d - protected bv a driving-cap, ,^o that the pipe may not be battereil or broKcn in driving. The first lengt'i of iiipe was now set up between the slide- ways, and the belt-rope run on the bull-wheel. The I'.eavy ram was thus drawn up to the slide-ways, where a " stop " knocked the rope loose from the ram, and it fell, with a powerful blow, on the top of the drive-pipe. l>y repeating this process, lire pipe was forced downward. •• Do you care if it don't go down straight.'" asked Arthur. Mr. Bowers, who is a Yan- Duivi.-imit:. kee, answered, " Well, I rather guess I do. If it leans the least bit. I must straighten it up; or if I e:\\\\ do that. I should have to pull it all up. and stmt in a new -place. If it isn't •' plumb," we can't get the drilling- tools through; or if they went through, they would keep sticking. I must keep testing the uprightness of the pipe with this spirit-level." '• If you strike a stone, then what will jou do? " asked Fred. " If it is a small stone, the ]iipe will crowd it a,sidc into the earth. If it is large, we shall have to drill a hole through it for the pipe. If the pipe strikes the edge or snelving side of a boulder, tlie pipe may be forced aside, or even broken — though I n".ist keep watch for that." n" 26 P E T R O L I A . " How can you tell wlien it strikes a stone?" '• O, I can tell by the sound of the blows. I caTi tell about hr)w large the stone is. We shall soon be clown to the bed-rock; and if vDu listen, vou can tell when we strike it." •' Wliat is the bed-rock.'" asked Arthur. '• Should think rocks v/ould make a prelty lurd bed," interrupted Fred. " The bed-rock." answered the miner. '• is the first rock we come to." •■ Anil now can vou tell how near you are to the rock .' " asked Ar- thur. '■ Because we have driven nineteen feet of pi]H". and none of the wells around here drive more than twenty-four feet." answered Mr. How- ers. '■ In some jilaces they dri\e seventy-live or one luuulred feet of pipe." After a little wliile tlie lK)ys noticetl the report of the ram clianijed from a dull, heavy sound to a sli:u'per. i-iny;imj blow. '• .Mil" cried ,\rthur. " tliere is tlie bed-rock." " 'S'es ; stop drivin;4 .' " shouted Fred, as prompt- ly as if he were foreman. And the drivinif was immediately stopped, as Fred orileied. " .\rtliur," said Mr. liowers, "can \'ui write.' " '• Ho I " said .\rthur, (juite indiy;mintly ; " I sjiould tliink I oujiht to. Fr d can write, and he is only a little boy." Fred looked up at Ar- thur to see if Arthur really was so nmch biL;- L;er than himself as his talk indicated. " Can you keep books.'" continued Mr. I'lowers. ■■Yes, sir; I have stiulied book-keeping." " Well, we'll appoint you book-keeper. In the bo.\ in the shai-ty is a RopeSocket blank bonk. On thei^a'^je where I have set down the date on which we commenced to drive pipe, you may set down the date ol' this day that we struck bed-rock, and the number of feet of pi|)e." Arthur did so; and he kept a complete rec- ord of each step of the work, describing the kind of rock they met, and the depth at whi.h they found anything iieculiar. The pipe being d-iwn to the rock, the ram was taker: down, and the slides torn away. 'J"he earth was iu>w cleaned out of the pipe, and the drilling-tools brought in. At first the hole was not deep enough to take in all the tools, but they soon drilled, with part of them, deep enough to aii- mit all; then the work proceeded faster. First, a forked iron, called the liope-SocAct, was fastened over and around the end of the drill-rope. The rope-socket had a thread cut on the 1 )vver end. On this was screwed a pomlerous iron bar two and a half inches in diameter and eight feet in length, called the Si/i/:cr-J> aiul hard at the end. The boys called the tools over in their order : Rope- Sit, \ [ ; on wliicli we m;\y M't ilown lick bed-rock, complete rec- lescrihiiiff the leptli at wlii.h "he Jiipe being takei' down, 'aitli was now chillinj;-to(>ls was not deep but thev soon enoutjh to ail- d faster. liope-SocAct, ;he end of tlie d a thread cut ,as screwed a lalf inclie.s in ;th, called the iunin.) he jars, " said houi^ht of his id anticipated t. Instead of ed on at the -bar a heavy like .two loops nieiise chain, of two inch in the loops lonir and two were inter- 1. ami on the the necessary into f the v the the rl! It is || 1 , and 1 ss a,- 1 ■eded !; 1 carrv yi li^cr- 9 b'Ji:i How- W^. thr ) she feet '""""TTf iiade end. =i^;f3 .ope- J 3ii I % P K T R O L I A . I socket, Sinker-bar, Jars. Auger-Stem, and Centre-bit. When they were all on, tiiey reached from the floor of the derrick to the pull'V at the top. Each joint was screwed verj- tight with two monstrous wrenches, so that they might not work apart in the well. •• Whv are they niude so long.'" asked Fred. •• To get weight to lone the bit down. We can't have tl-.ein any thicker than two and a half inches, and so we get the weight in the length." '• How much do they weigh .' " '■About fil'teen hundred pomuls." A very curious machine was now attached by a simple rod to the end of tlit working- beam o\er the well. It is called a Tciii/ briny up the ■ u*iiially made :s insidi' dium- a vaUe at tlie ler end. This to tiic end of er a pulley at ed around the in the well the it re'iiehcd hot- r the rope, and it with ehips of the pump, he lever that .' frietion-pul- -■el. The reel and the sand- II of "ehiiis" - hut of water of pulverized d again, until off the auger- n place of it. s round, with 'i is to smooth eft by the bit. bit had been I as far down ul-pump took id they were :e downward s".,id-pump- ilay — unless : machinery. " in the rock, left tlie tools It oC the der- go fishing." speak to go." fish the tools .vitli an iron HI it, to run the well, and up, with the • fastened to I brought it f jars tlown, lar, and then P E T K C) L 1 A . -y n jaried all the tools loQ,-.e, and brought theni up. Little stones got loose, rattled down, and wedged in between the tools and the rock, and this was one cause of the stoppage. Some- times, the boys were told, men work for weeks, and then can't get the tools out, and have to abandon the well, and lose all they have done, and their tools besides. Arthur wrote down the number of feet they drilled each day. Sometimes it would be twenty-five or thirty feet in twenty-four hours. When they got down three hundred and twenty-five feet, they struck the first sand- rock. This was white, and very hard, so that they progressed only six or eight feet in a day. But this was only nine feet thick, so that they were soon through it, and in the softer shale- rock again* Occasionally the tools had to be sharpened and tempered over again. Another thing that Arthur learned was how to regulate the engine. He soon was able to start or stop it by turning the throttle- valve; he could tell when the water was right in the boiler by the try-cocks, and knew when there was steam enough by the steam-gauge, Arthur got so familiar with these things that he proposed to the engineer to take the whole charge of the engine, and let the engineer have only the fires to attend to. To this the engineer gravely assented, and Arthur was in- stalled on a stool, where he could reach the throttle-valve. Fred knew how to make paper windmills. He made a large number, and fastened them all along the working-beam. The motion of the beam made wind enough to drive the mills. Fred's flag and windmills gave the " rig " quite a fantastic appearance ; everybody noticed 'hem, and soon began to call that the " Flag- iind-Windmill Well," and this was the name it was known by ever afterwards. Fred and Arthur made themselves so useful, and became such favorites with the men, that one day Mr. Bowers told uncle Charley that he thought the boys ought to be given an in- terest in the well. Uncle Charley smiled, and said, "Well, I will give Arthur the first ten and Fred the second ten barrels over each five hundred per day," At this the men all laughed; as no well on that tract had yet gone over one hundred and fifty barrels, they thought uncle Charley's otTer rather a joke on the boys. One of the men asked Fred how much he would take for a sixteenth of his in- terest. It proved something better than a joke, however, in the end. One day, after the_\ had gone below the first VOL. IX. — NO. 212. 13 sand-rock, the boys saw bubbles floating on the water, and mud emptied from the sand- pump. "Hallo I" cried Fred; "have you struck soap-suds.'" The men said they had often heard of soap- mines, but never saw anything nearer it than soap-.,'reatcst ta^k was yet to come. They had secured the coveted treasure in sueh pi. "liijious", quantities, ami so unexpectedly, that, like the man who houi,dU an elephant, they did not know how to provide for it. There it was; a roariiiij, foamin;,' fountain, spoutinj;, like a wounded whale, lifly feet lu'^h. fillinj^ the air with yellow spray, hreakinij into many colors, and forinin'j; wonderful rainbows in the sun, and delui;ini{ r jres with oily wealth ; and no means at hand to secure it. Their troubles were similar to those of the old woman who lived in the slioe : they had so much oil they " didn't know wlu t to do." The dams which they beijan to throw up. to stop its running away down the mountain, saved but a part of it; luuulrcds of bairels ran to waste. I'art of that which poured in little torrents down the steep hill was lost en- tirelv. Some of it men and boys caught in little dams liefore it reached the creek, and dipped up into barrels, whicli they brought for that purpose. In this way they earned, or gained, from ten to forty dollars a day each. Nearly all the oil produced by *he Flag-and- Windmill Well for several days would h:ive been lost but lor the kindness of tlie owners of small wells near it. They olVered uncle Charley the use of their oil tanks until he could construct tanks of his own. Tiie boys learned that, although oil operators are Very eager in pursuit of wealth, and most of them seem to be pretty rough men, yet they were at heart kind and generous towards others, as this olTer to uncle Charley proved. Uncle Charley gratefully accepted the use of the tanks I'or a tlay or two. Ilis men laid lines of iron pipe — of wliich ti.cv bad a large supply, provided beforehand — from the little pond of oil around the well to two or three of the nearest tanks. As soon as this was done, and the storage for part of the oil temporarily provided, imcle Charley, with men and teams, startetl after tank- of his own. They went to a tract not far olV, where there were several wells that had ceased to 3'ield oil, and been abandoned, with their " rigs." engines, tanks, &c. Uncle Charlev bought five of these aban- doned tanks, very cheap. Such tanks are built of wooden staves, like a tub, with im- mense iron hoops; some of them are fifteen feet high, and thirty feet across; others are smaller, and some even larger. The men knockeil the iioops off. took liown the staves and bottom-boards, anil loaded all on the wagons. Hy working that day and all night, they gut the tanks all removed, and set up again near the Flag-and-Windinill Well, ready lor use at d.ayligbt next morning. Thus thev had to use the borrowed tanks only one day and one night. While this was going on, uncle Charley bad sent Arthur (whom be had found he could trust with important business) to Titusville to order some more piiie. stop-cocks, a •' goose- neck," and other things needed at the well. When Fred heard the directions given to Ar- thur, he made the same mistake as when he first heard the drillers talk about jars: he con- ckuied the " goose-neck " was something good to eat. (joing quietly around to uncle Char- ley's side, he asked, "Can't Arthur just as well get tiu-kcy? I like that better than goose." Uncle Charley was not too busy to laugh at this, although he -I'as too busy to explain the dilTerence. When Arthur returned at night with the goose-neck, Fred thouglit, more than ever, that he preferretl turkey ; for the goose- neck was only a crooked piece, or elbow, of large iron pipe. This was to be screwed on the top of the drive-pipe in the well, and thus cause the stream of oil to turn aside into the tank. But how to put it on was the question. The rats had no trouble to get a bell; they were only puzzled to get it put on the cat's neck. The goose-neck could not have been very well put on tluring the fn-st two days, while the powerful jet was spouting. The men at first tried to stop the stream entirely: that is. to hold the cat still while the bell was being put on. They tried to do it in this way: they took down the ponderous working-beam, and as manv men as could take hold of it at the ends threw it over the mouth of the well, and tried to hold it there. Ine oil and water spirted and sprayed a hundred feet out each side, making the crowil of spectators scatter as the boys bad seen a crowd do at home, when the firemen in sport would turn on it a stream from the fire-engine. The working- beam, heavy as it was, was ^ent flying like a chip, in spite of the efforts of twenty men to hold it down ' 'le well ; and the men them- selves were h :^ in every direction, as if they were mer -r, %■ , s. They crept out of the deluge of oiiiuiu 'water, looking like so manv mice who had fallen into a Kettle of 3- P E T R O L 1 A . >;rcasc. Tliat way of bcllini; tlie cat wasn't a success, except as an amusement to tlie look- ers on. After two or three davs, liowever, tlie well Keemeil to abate its fury somewhat. Then it benan to put on another curious apjiearance. It uraihially cliani,'eil from a steady tlow to an interrupleii. spasmodic action. For a few mo- iTients it would spout with as ^reat fury as ever; then it would i,'radually sink away; then, after a few moments of subsidence, in- crease in violence au;ain. When the boys first noticed this, they be- came alarmed for their oil interests, thinkini' the well •• was goin;; to tlie" as Fred ex- pressed it. IJut when they saw it each time revive, and show as much enerify as ever, they became reassured as to its \ itality. These jKriods of subsidence became more marked each time, until, in its quieter mo- ments, the well spouted no higher than a Uncle Charley decided that the quickest way to f^et the oil o(T their hands and into market man's heatl. In one of thc-e sleepy moments \ ^yas by runnint; it into boats in the creek, of the spoutinleiify of men there ready to buy the the monster under control. | oil for shipment down the river to Pittsburjj. In about five minutes the well commenced At that time the railroad, *o far as completed, to raye aijain : aiul, as if angered at being was too far olT, at its nearest point, to alTord a conipiered, it seemed to spout with greater quick and easy outlet to market, fury than ever. It roared and foamed in the j ()il Creek is a broad, shallow stream. At tank, shaking; the tub. anil making the ground I its ordinary stage, flat-boats and barges, of tremble in its violence; the contents of the light draught, can be t(. wed up against its cur- tub were stirred and churned until it was rent by horses walking in the middle of the nearly filled with yellow foam. stream. It was severe labor, and working in Fred exercised his inclination for compari- | the water soon took the hair otT the (loor aiii- sons '.)y calling the tank '■the giant's cup of nials' legs, and in a very short time killed soda-water." imagining the well to be the ' them. giant, and himself the little Jack-of-the-bean- Uncle Charley and the boys went down to stalk who had chained it. One of the men the creek to hire two boats to load with their said it " looked more like all Dutchlan'"s mug oil — for Arthur and Fred were keeping close of lager bier." Each one used the figure he watch on ///(■;> inter st in the product of the was most familiar with. well. They soon found two large, tlat-bottomed Their troubles antl labors were not ended boats, and hired them. The owner said lie'd with the completion of the tanks. A well carry their oil to Oil City 'M'or fifty cents — pouring out a thousand barrels a d.ay would owner's risk." This. Arthur explained to soon fill all the tanks in the neighborhood, Fred, meant he'd make the trip for as much and then they would be in the s.ame old- as fifty cents a barrel would come to; but. if woman-in-the-shoe fix again. Thev must be- the oil got lost, the boatman would not be re- gin immediately to empty the tanks, sponsible; it would be their loss, and they The tanks were connected by pipes, so that would have to pay for the use of the boats when one was full it would overfiow into just the same as if the oil were delivered salV- another. Near the bottom of each tank was ly. Fred didn't like this bargain, and insjsteil a faucet, by which the water could be drawn that the boatman should get nothing if he out from under the oil, leaving only the latter didn't carry the oil through all right. The in the tank. The boys saw^ tli.?.t the ditVerent boatman said. '-Very well, my little man; gravity of the two fluids n.-, tl- t'"-' process a\' pay me sirvn/y-/i:T cents per barrel, and I'll separating them, — which .iiey had ;uitici- guarantee delivery." pated would he a very diflicult one. — after ■■What do you say. boys?" askei' uncle all. very simple. i Charley. '■ Shall we pay twenty-five cents : f OATS. i quickest wav into iiiarl^ft f n tlio creek. le Allejjhanv reek. There ; • to buy the f to Pittsburg. s completed. t. to atVorii a stream. At ^ 1 barges, of •liiist its cur- iiitlle of the working in he poor aiii- time kiileii a^nt down to ul witli their eeping close oduct of the at-bottomed " er said he'd fifty cents — xplained to or as much J to; but. if d not be re- s. and tliey ■m of the boats livered safe- and iusisteti )thing if lie right. The little man; rel, and Til askei' uncle v-five cents h. \ ■z) > -a c ■X S3 75 u P F, T R O L I A . 35 ^a more on the liarrtl, or run our own ri-k. anti save that much if we yet throuj{h all rifjht. Rcnicinbcr that the extra price does not in- sure us against loss of oil. If we agree to pa\ -eventv-(ive cents, an the three proprietors of the oil did not auree as to the best plan of shipping, they acl()|)ted holli ways. On one ho«t tliey agreed to pay lifty cents a barrel, whether it went through safely or not; on the other boat they agreed to pay seventy-five cents a barrel if it went tlirough, or nothing if it was wrecked. The boats were towed up li> a point on the creek opposite the Flag-and-\\'indniiil Well, and moored by strong cables to the bank. The boats were about otic hundred feet long, eighteen I'eet wide, and twenty inches deep. The ends were square. The spuce in them was divided into compartments, and covered over tight with boards. It was thus divided up, the hoys learned, so that the oil would carry more steadily. If the oil were put in one ma»s into the broad, sliallow boat, it woidd get to swaying anil rolling, and finally upset the boat — the same mishap they had often experienced on a smaller scale when trving to carry a shall vv dish of water or other liquid. The boys learned that tlat-boats are built on the streams that form the headwaters of the Alleghany, where lumber is plenty. They are loaded with shingles, turniture, and other merchandise, and floated down on high water, to be sold along the river. When empty they are used as oil boats. These two were built away up in "York .State," near Chatauqua Lake, almost up to Lake Erie. Arthur had learned that the waters of the Alleghany, which finally empty into the Gulf of Mexico, • start near the same point where the waters spring wl-.ich go into Lake Erie and thence empty into the Gulf of St. Lawrence; that only a narrow ridge at tirst divides the drops of water, which in the end reach the ocean so many thousand miles apart. As the land on which the Flag-and-Windmill Well was sunk was leased, not purchased, by uncle Charley, the oil did not all belong to him and the boys. The owner of the farm was entitled t witll oil aloniT lliu iivck tloateil down to Oil City. At till' Mime liim- tin* o\viU'i> nl iliu mills would lloattlii-ir lumbLT ilowii to luaiki't. Soiiu'tiiii. - a tlioii>aiiil iiari we'iit down on a sinuli' ■■ pond iVt'^li." '• WIkii is tliL' next iioiui fic-h romiiii;!*" till.' boys uskod. at'lor listciiiii'^ i'ai;orlv to this account. " In a day or two \Vc iisualh- liavo two a week." was the lepl;. It was -n. That very day. the man who superintended the pond freshets eame aloii'^' the erec'k to i;ive notice that tin- lower dam wouKi he cut at ten o'clock the next lorenoon. lie also eollected some money from the boat- owners to help pav the cost of huyim^ the water of llie mill-owners. ■• Now." s;iid uncle Charlev. "do you ho\s want to ritle down to Oil City on horses, and see the lleet of boats and rafts come in? Or tlo you preter to ride down on the boats with the freslKt .' There is a '{ood deal of excite- ment and considerable danger in making; the voya,;;e." This last consideration decided the hovs im- media'tely in favor of ,1,'oin,^ hv boat : the " dan- ger " was the very thitm they had the j,'reatest curiosity to see. It was finally arranged that Arthur and hi father should go down by the boat, and I-^red and his uncle go down by laiul. I'ncle Charley told his brother how to manage with Arthur in ca.se of a smash-up. There were always plentv of ihances tf) jump on the other boats, which tilled the i reek at such times. Karly next dav the boats were made ready for the llood. The covers to the oil-bunks were fastened down. The huL;i.' steering oars, forty teet long, were hung on llicir pins at each enii ol' llie bouts; the\' projected out he- lore and behind, like long wings. Uesides the oars, there were long setting-poles to pusli the boat along with in ileep. still water, and hand- spikes to ))ry otT the boat when it sticks fast, to do which the men had to iump into the , stream to work. .\ll was readv bet'ore ten. Two men stood I at each oar; the i>ilol stooil near the stern, and .\rthur and his lather sat on two oil- barrels, near the centre of the boat — ;dl wait- ing the coming tlood. Work had been siis- jiended at all wells on the creek, and the oil operators and tlie people from the country around came down to witness the exciting SI. 'lies, I'ond-fresh-days were general holi- days; in faet, almost the only play-iiays the ' IJiisy oil men had. The hank was lined with s|iectators :d! idong the creek. Ten o'clock hail passed by but a few mo- I ments when a low. distant mm-mm- was heard, I like the subdued roarof a far-olV railway train. i "She's coming I" said the pilot. "Some of you men on the shore there stand by to i cast off our cableu." m P E T R O L I A . 37 Thk Collision. anc\'s to niin|) I tin- I iTik at niiulc i\':i(lv tlii; ()il-I)imks stc'crinij oars, llicir pins at iJL'ctcd iisli the '.^•y. ami liaiul- it -ticks last, inn|) inui tliu VI) nu'ii stood ar the stern. oil two r)il. ■ at — all wait- lail liL'cn siis- ^. aiul the oil the country the exeitin:^ general holi- |)lav-tia_vs the a- lined with III a lew nio- iir was heard, railway train, ilot. '•.Some stand by to They untied the cables from the trees, and a m.in stood holdini; an end of each, still keep- ing it wound around the tree. The roar ot' the cominji tlood increased rap- idly, and soon shouts were heard from the people up the creek. Then Arthur saw what looked like a wall of water as hiijh as a ma,i"s head, filling the channel from bank to bank, roaring like a cataract, white with foam, and rushing rapidly. Its crest was coven-d with boards, sticks, slabs, oyster-kegs, old barrels, and i.ll the litter of saw-mills, oil-diggings, and oil-towns up the creek, including the car- casses of horses killed by hard usage. Hack of these they could see the glitter of the sweep- ing oars of the boats and rafts, already riding the wave; and, above the roar of lu-hing waters, they could hear the sb.outs of the pilots, and the yells of the excited spectr.tors. Arthur never will forget the scene a,', the moment when the wave sei med to be coming down on their heads. His lieart first stood still, then filled liis throat with a choking sen- sation. But, in fr.;:t, the wave was not nearly as large as it looked, and the real dang>;r was not of its overwhelming them. When it reached the boats it lilted them like chips. As the stern climbed the wave first, tlic bow dipped low, sinking the forward oarsmen to their knees in water. When the fiood was fairly under them, the pilot cried, •• Cast off'." The cables were let go, and the oarsmen pulled the boat out from the banks. In work- ing the oars they walked entirelv across the boat, pushing the stem of the oar before them, raised so that the blade would dip; then they would run back tpiickly. carrying the stem near the deck, and the bhule out of water. They were now shooting rapidly down with the fleet. Other boats pulled out and joined them every minute. Constant care was ne- cessary to keep the boats from " fouling " with each other. Where there was a bend in the channel the oarsmen had to pull lively" to keep ofT the outside bank '. le cur\e. The mountains along shore echo with the orders of the pilots and the shouts c spectators. When about a mile below the I"'lag-and- Wiiulmill Well, a row of large ooats, of which .\rtluir's was one, had moved up abreast, fill- ing the channel completely full. This was well enough for them, but it proved bad for another row of boats tied along the bank be- low, waiting to start. The moving boat next the shore was bearing directly down on these stationary boats. Its pilot, seeing the dafl- ger, shouted, ^' Left '. Left, all! Give arvay, lively .' " and himself ran to help the forward oarsmen. It was no use. They could not move the whole rank of boats that filled the channel and crowded against this one. It struck the first of the stationary boats with a crash, snapping both its cables like threads, and set- ting it loose. The men on tl-^ loosened boat 58 I'ETROLIA. \ ■ Shooting the Bridge. bent to their oars to carrv it out far enouj^fh to clear the boat moored next below; hut in vain. It in turn struck that, and broke it loose, and tlie two hure down on those be- low. The men on the rest of the shore boats now saw that they must -jo whether they were ready or not; so they all cut their cables, and pulled out. Meanwliile, the boat that llrst struck the row, its headway being stopped a little, was cau,i,dit in the rear by the current, and whirled completely around, end for end. The men on it, when they saw they must swing, pulled with all their power to whirl the boat faster than the current, and thus keep from being swamped by the current taking them sidewise and pouring (ner the low gunwales of their boat. They succeeded. Strange as it may seem, none of the boats were wrecked by this collision. But some of the boats fariliest down, of 'iiose which were comiielled to cut loose, were too far in advance of the /«// /ifdd of the freshet to be safe. One of these ran along a few rods, and then stuck fast on a bar at the prow; the current turned it sidewise: other bo«s came crashing down against it; the water instantly poured over its side and sank it to the bottom, and it was de- molished and swept away. The men in it sprang into other boats. The three boats from the Flag-and-Windmill Well were not in this jam. As they passed, Arthur could see a confused mass of timber, the ruins of three or four boats destroyed, bar- rels, loose oil, Sic, scattered on the stream. The greatest danger for all was vet to come. They were now rapidly ajiproaching the Oil City Bridge, and Arthur knew, by the anxious ' faces of the men, that the perilous place was there. He began almost to wish he was ashore. When the bridge came in sight it looked black all over with people; the shores also were crowded. The |)ilot anxiously scanned the motions of the drift-wood ahead of him, to see on which side of the " centre bent " f)r middle timbers of the bridge, the current ran strongest; so he could deciile which of two channels to take. Presently he said. •• I'll take the right-hand shoot." '•\\hy don't you jniU for it, then?" cried Arthur, in great alarm, as he saw the boat headed directly for the timbers of the bridge. '■If we jnill too quick she"ll swing too far. ^\■e want to strike the right-hand current with the boat on the swing, and let the current help us I" exclaimed the pilot. At that moment Arthur spied Fred and uncle Charley on the bridge waving their bats to him. Arthur responded vigorouslv. When they were almost to the bridge, and .\rthur had given up all hope of the boat clearing the timbers, the i)ilot suddenly yelled, '■ /i' /{,■■///! " The men gave three cpuck. pow- erful strokes to the oar:,; the boat veered slow- ly to the right, not enough to clear. .She will strike I No; tl'.e current takes her. and swings her easily over. She just clears the timliers, and shoots, with a rush and a splash, past the big brace and under the bridge, safe and clear '. The crowd cheered loudly, again and again, over this skilful handling of the boat, in which Fred and Arthur joined with all their might. .\rthiM- looked back, and saw how the boat wouKl have fared if the pilot had steered as //f wanted him to. The next boat behind them began to pull over too soon. As its head took the right-hand current, the counter current on the other side struck its stern. It began to swing around sidewise. and in one minute it was hurled across the shelving brace of the bridge with a crash ! It bent and hung there, high up on the brace, like a pair of saddle-bags, emjitving the cargo out into the stream. The crew ran to the middle and clambered up the timbers, and were pulled on the bridge by the people above. The next boat struck this, and the next, and the next. Some pulled over far enough to es- cape under the bridge; more went into the jam. Boats and rafts were piled on each other in the wildest i;onfusion. Crash ! smash ! they came : endwise, sidewise, every way. Water roared and tore over the wrecks. The black, odorous oil was sent flying in every di- JL. PETROLIA. 39 •iloiis ])lace was I he was ashore, sight it looked the shores also ciously scanned i ahead of him, centre bent " or tlie current ran ; whi( h of two lie said, ••ril t, then .' " cried ." saw the boat s of the hridj^e. swing too far. nd cm-rent with let the current tied Fred and ; waving their led vigorouslv. he Ijridge, and le of tlie boat udtlenlv veiled, •ee quick, pow- at veered slow- lear. She will ler. and swings rs the tiniliers, plash, past the idge. safe and :ain and again, the boat, in with all their ' how the boat hail steered as t boat behind soon. As its lit. the counter k its stern. It se. and in one shelving brace bent and hung like a pair of go out into the le middle and were pulled on d the next, and r enougli to es- went into the piled on each Crash ! smash ! !, every way. ; wrecks. The ng in evcrv di- Snubbing the Uoat. rection tlirough the air, and over the people. Thousands and thousands of dollars were sunk and lost in a few moments. An under current speedily formed beneath the wreck, and many of the boats were sucked under, and went completely out of sight. The men on them made good their escape bv the first opportunity. One boat ran partly over a sunken one — stuck, tilted for a min- ute ; then her bow was sucked down so quick- ly that her stern was jerked in the air, and the men, -who had run back, were sent flying, just as the boys shoot up stones by striking one end of a tilted stick on whicli they are placed. The men landed in the water a few feet dis- tant with a great splash, and swam ashore, sputtering and swearing, amidst the shouts and laughter of the crowd. The channel was now completely blocked bv the wrecks of a dozen boats; ami the creek above, from bank to bank, was jammed full of rails and boats. No more boats got through that dav, as the freshet had begun to subsiile. Most of those in the creek, above the bridge. : saved their cargoes, and got olV w ;th the next 1 freshet. | The stream, for miles below, was covered | with barrels of oil, lumber, oars, poles, frag- j ments of boats, — all tloating in the thick ^ flood of oil which covered the stream.* ^ The bc.it Arthur was on alone of the three th.1t started together got through. After they ^ passed the bridge the boat was crowded up j against the shore to slacken its velocity some- ^ what. One of the boatmen then jumped ^ ashore with a cable, rnd made a " running- , hitch" around a stump —that is, he wound it , •By one poml-freshet jam over thirty tluiusiind ba.rcis of I oi! were estimated to have been lost. arouiul so that it woiikl slip slowly, holding the end and gradually checking tlie motion of the boat. This is called ••snubbing" a boat. " I can do that, I guess," said Arthur. "Guess not, sonny," said an old ral^sman. "You'd probably break the cable or your own leg — perhajis both, and your jolly neck into the bargain." Arthur thoiigiit the boatman very disrespect- ful. '• -Sonny 1 " said Arthur to himself, indig- nantly ; •• and I in my teens ! " Uncle Charley and Fred were waiting on the bank for tliem. He told them he had al- ready soUl the oil in the boat to one of the numerous oil brok^jrs that assembled at Oil City on pond-freshet days. The other boat was a total loss. It happencil that the wrecked cargo was the one taken •• at owner's risk." at fifty cents a barrel ; and the one that came through was the one whose delivery was in- sured by the boat-owner at seventy-five cents. So they had to pay freight both on the lost oil and on the other. After p(»ying all charges, the money left gave the boys tltirty dollars each for their shares. They felt exceedingly happy and rich. Thev had never owned so much money before, •• all for their own." Uncle Charley, however, was not so well satisfied, and declared he would never ship any more oil by boats. The owner of the farm, who had lost all o( his oil, said the same, and declared that he would immediately put up tankage enough to hold all the oil produced on his farm until it could be shippetl by rail. 40 P E T R O L I A . tIMMitUt ►-•/»»#*»*•* '• PART III. 0PS AND DOWNS OP THE OIL BUSINESS. " I "HE owner of the farm on which was the ■■■ Flag-and-Windmill Well proceeded im- mediately to carry out the determination he made when his boat and the one belonging to Arthur, Fred, and uncle Charley were lost in the " pond freshet jam," viz., to build tanks to receive all the oil produced by all the wells on his farm, until it could be sold, barrelled, and shipped away profitably and satiely. He contracted with a firm in Titusvilie to build for him two iron tanks of four thousand barrels capacity each. The iron plates, of which these tanks were built, were rolled out, cut the right size and shape to form the bot- tom and sides when put together; the pieces for the sides were bent to the proper curve, and all were punched with rivet-holes all around the edges. All this was done at the shops, and so accurately calculated that when the pieces were taken to the farm, and each one fitted to its proper place, they made ex- actly the right sized and shaped bottom ; the curved pieces met in a complete circle of the right sire, and all the rivet-holes came oppo- site exactly, so that the bolts could be put in and the plates riveted together. Every piece fitted as it should to make an iron tub forty- one feet in diameter and seventeen feet deep. The boys were amazed to see the confused heap of iron plates go together and gradually build the great tanks. They speedily " scraped an acquaintance" with the greasy machinists, who looked so rough and understood their business so well. They found them to be very intelligent and civil, as well as very clever men, rough as they looked. When the big tanks were done, all the pro- ducing wells on the farm were allowed to lay pipes to them and run their oil in to be stored. For this storage the proprietor of the tanks charged them a small fee per barrel. In time he got enough money back for tank- age of other men's oil to repay him the cost of the tanks, which was six thousand five hun- dred dollars for both tanks. By measuring tlie depth of the oil before and after each man ran a small tank of oil in, he could com- pute how much had been delivered to be stored, and was entitled to be taken out again by each person. Uncle Charley and the boys bought barrels and barrelled their oil as fast as they could r 'un." •• I'lide Charley," said Fred, " do you sup- pose they will come hack and take the well.' They don't look as if they h-id so much money." "They have not," re|ilied uncle Charley; " I shouldn't wonder if this two thousand was their pile." " Then how are they jjoing to buy our well .' " asked the astonished hoys. "They don't want to /my the well; they want to sc/l it." " Why, no I " exclaimed Fred ; " we own the well, and -t'c want to sell it. Haven't they agreed to buy it, I'd like to know.'" "You can't sell it, if you do want to — at least, you have i"- ■ight to sell at any jirice, during the next three da_\s. No one can sell your interest for the next three days but those men. If some one should now come and oil'er you sixty thousand dollars or eighty thousand dollars, ^■ou couldn't sell. Those fellows will find a buyer at an advance. Although they don't 0-17/ it, and don't intend to. they may sell it for fifty or sixty thousand dollars; then they will pay you thirty-eight thousand more, i' all II II *ii> ■ hem he would ir as the boys r heard one of iiclvou? He's " do you sup- take the well? had so much icle Charley; tiiousand was )uy our %vell?" lie well; they '• we own the Haven't they ?" I want to — at 1 at any iirice, o one can sell lays but those onie and oiler ;hty thousand ie fellows will Uthough they to, they may dollars; then ousaiid more, P E T R O L I A . 43 •n i I and po»-ket the rest for their profits. That's the way they make their money." " What! " exclaimed Fred, warmly; "if some one offers us more than forty thousand dollars, can't we sell and make the profit, in- stead of those spectators t " " No, sir! You've sold the chance to do that, and got your two thousand dollars for it." "That ain't fair ! " cried Fred ; " I won't do that. We ought to sell for more, if we can." " It isn't at all likely you can, so don't get excited about it. Those men know where to find customers at big figures; you don't. You are doing well enough. If they don't sell, you will have the two thousand dollars clear. If they do, you will have forty thou- sand dollars, and I should think that was a comfortable little pocket-full for a couple of boys." "I declare!" added he, to himself, laugh- ing, " there's just about the same nature in boys, as in men. Those boys never owned a hundred dollars of their own, and now they want to bolt a bargain that gives them two thousand dollars sure, and forty thousand dollars probably, for the possible chance of a few thousand dollars more. Human na- ture can't be satisfied. The little scamps act just as I would, for all the world. They learn fast." Then he said aloud, " Fred, you seem to be somewhat dissatisfied with the offer you have made. Have you any idea how much money fortv thousand dollars is, do you suppose? Do you know it would buy four or five farms like your father's ; make you the richest men in your village; and, at simple mierest, give vou two boys about efff/it dollars to spend every day of your lives. It would put you where you never need work a day. if you don't want to. Guess you don't know when you have a good thing. I'm afraid this oil business is demoralizing you. Learn to be contented w'.th enough." He was going on with a highly instructive "preachment," when Fred, with a boy's di- lectness and want of reverence, interrupted him with, — " Why, uncle, when you had a chance to fell for a million dollars, you didn't, but stuck OH to make more! A million dollars is more than forty thousand." This cut short uncle Charley's lecture on contentment. He had to turn his face away to hide a look of confusion and mirth. The vastness of these transactions confused the boys, while the immense siims of money that changed hands, the large fortunes made and lost daily around them, upset all their previ- ous ideas of the value of money. They now thought and spoke of 9 thousand dollars as they once would have spoken and thougiU of a dime. By a single stroke of luck, there seemed to lie at the feet of these two boys a fortune many times larger than their parents had been able to accumulate by a lifetime of patient toil, good management, and close econ- omy. All the wonders of Aladdin's transfor- mations, of which they had often read, were utterly cast into the shade by this sudden, mysterious, powerful upspouting of greasy wealth. Yet they had got a glimpse — only a peep — into the vast wealth unlocked from the caverns of earth, and spread abroad over its surface. The boys indulged in many dreams and plans as to what they would do with their for- tune — when it came. It was only a dream, and a very short one. Like many older oper- ators, these boys were counting their chickens before the eggs were hatched. For, the second day after the refusal was given, tie Flag-and- Windmill Well -was flooded and ruined. This calamity came in this way : — As soon as the big well was struck, the own- ers of leases adjoining commenced to bore wells as close as they could get, in hopes of striking the same great reservoir of oil from which the Flag-and-Windmill Well was sup- plied. In this attempt one of the wells suc- ceeded. But the result was not what was an ticipated. As soon as the new well penetraieo the cavity, instead of commencing to spout, as the Flag-and-Windmill had done, it allowed a great column of water to rush down, fill the crevice, and stop the flow of oil and gas into the Flag-and-Windmill Well. The pressure of gas and oil, which had kept the latter flow- ing being thus removed, it also filled with water. In a few minutes both wells were full of water to an equal height, and there they rested. The Flag-and-Windmill Well was good for nothing in that condition for either production or sale : of course the speculators never came back with the balance of the forty thousand dollars. Thus, in an hour, uncle Charley and the boys saw a million of dollars vanish ; and the forty thousand they almost had their hands on, slipped through their fingers. To them it was a great disappointment. But their uncle took it very coolly ; he actually laughed, and said, — " Never mind, boysl This is greaser's luck. We must take the lean with the fat." " But," said Arthur, " what are we going to ^■^ * --^r fe. 44 PETROLIA. Fred " keft Tally. " Page 43. l: do now? Can't the water be got out, and make it spout oil again?" " It would be of no use to pump the water from o/ic well alone. The other well would flood it, if not pumped also. Both wells have j;ot to be cased water-ti{{ht, and pumped, and kept clear. Then both welU would probably yield." This course uncle Charley immediately pro- posed to the owners of the new well. They were fjreedy, exacting men, and thought they had the big well in their power. They said t\.cy would do what uncle Charley proposed, if he would give thei.i half the oil produced for him thereafter by the Klag-and-Windmill Well; and they olfered to give h.m half the yield of their well, if it produced anvthing. In other words, they would make an eijual partnership in the profits of the two wells. They did not know th it their well would pro- duce anything: they i/ii good thing to buy off the new well ?" "For several reasons it is not good policy," answered the old operator. " First, if we should pay two hundred and fifty thousand dollars to buy off this well, in less than a month we should have forty more wells to buy 1^ H them lianged lever {jot the Alars //ley Mt )f water, and ut it?" asked ' we can sell ihe lease, en- ;he business; IS it is, and ine to their money they n't. Or, we >ix thousand i and barrels. k more wells 3uld stand a trike. Now, k' quit, wait r sink more then asked, id-Windmill ly isn't it a r?" ood policy," First, if we ty thousand less than a wells to buy PETROLIA. 45 cd, and all operations were suspended, tio one knew for how lonj;, at the Flaij-and-Windmill Well, they conchided they wouUI close out their oil liusiness until their next visit to IVtrolia. Accordingly tlu-y and their uncle proceeded to market the oil they hud on hand. Large numbers of barrels were bought and filled. It was a busy, bustling scene. One large gang of men, under uncle Charley's ilirection, was engaged in drawing the oil from the tanks into the barrels, while another gang under Arthur rolled them away, and helped Ic/.ui them on the wagf)ns. Fred had a book, and ••kept tally," putting down the name of the teamster, and the number of barrels he re- ceived to haul at each load. The caravan of teams was a sight. They covered the ground thickly around the tanks, as !nany as couki load at once. They were consta^Aly going and coming in long trains. They commenced to work at daylight in the morning, and worked until alter dark. Many hordes were killed by overwork. The roads were very muddy antl cleeji. Constant pas- sage of heavily-loaded wagons cut the soft soil up into ilcep holes anil ruts. At this time came another turn in \\xp I "greaser's luck.'' that served to put a little I light into the dark picture of the drowning out of the Fhig-ancl-Windmill Well. ()\\ just in the nick of time" took a sudden upward Windmill Well, like flies around 'i honey-pol, turn in |irice ; it advanced to a very profitable trying to tap it and our pockets. We don't figure. It was to take advantage of this that want to offer an inducement to men to flooil uncle Cliarley crowded the work of shipment our well: they will think they can strike our ; as hard as possible. moncv, if they don't strike oil; we might as 1 hey succeeded in getting it all out to the well give up at once, as to olTer .loth our well j railroad, and sold just at the highest point and ourselves to be pumped dry, in that way. i reached. By this lucky turn they made more In the second place, it is a question of doul)t ■ olf that one lot than they had olV all they had as to what the Flag-and-Windmill Well will j sold before. The profits amounted to nearly do if restored: she may pay, and may not; I '\ thirty thousand dollars, of which the boys don't want to pay two hundred and lil'ty thou- were entitled to two tiftieths, or twelve hun- sand dollars on an uncertainty." : dred dollars. "Can't we sto]i them spoiling car business, \ They had the two thousand dollars which so?" asked .\rthiir, indignantly, all 1 -s sense ' the two speculators had paid for the three Uncle Charley's Goou By. off; they would crowd around the Flag-and- of justice ami right aroused by the conduct of their sell'ish and obstinate neighbors. "I don't know; I think I'll try and see if the law will give us justice. There is a clause •n mv lease and in theirs that forbids their leading the'ir well untested, to llood another well." days' ref-usal of their interest, and about one th'Uisand dollars cleared otf pre\ious sales of f)il. They liguretl it all up. ami found they could boast of over four thousand dollars in their own right. '•That's a )iivttv good vacation's work, if we e ciisiiii; is iron pipe four airl a half to six inches in diameter: it is screwed together in joints by means of a thimble or collar, into which each end of a length fits. It is put into the well to make a water-tight barrel in which they could put the pump-tubing and work the pump. As the casing is to shut off the springs of water that fiow into the well, it has to be put down as far as tliere were any water-veins. Arthur now saw tim benefit of the log-book l.e had kept when the well was drilling. The log told where the water-veins were foimd. He consulted the book, and informed the workmen that they would have to go down to the first sand-rock to get below all the water-veins; which would re- quire three hundred and thirty feet of casing to be put in the well. The manner of putting down the casing interested the boys. One length of pipe w.\s let down into the .veil; it was kept from falling by a pair of clamps. These were clasped around the pipe just below the col- lar which \ as screwed on the upper end of the pipe. The clamp was locked tight by means of a link on the handles. The coupling kept the clamp from slippingoff the pipe, and theclamp resting.acrossthemouth of the well kept the whole from falling. A curious machine, called a s-vh'cl. '" was now screwed in the coupling of ClUBip another length of pipe. The swivel i 48 PETROLIA. / has a heavy hook in it which can turn with- ; oeeJ, and the wl.ole wrapped around the ca«- out unscrewing the rest of the machine from ' ing, and firmly bound there. tJie casinj;. I p^ed said it' looked like a broken leg with a •• W liv." said Arthur, •' that's just like the poultice and bandages on it. It made a bunch swivel on my watch-cl.ain." on the pipe nearly, but not quite, large enough "Yes," said Fred; "and it's just to till the space between the casing and the ^ like the swivel on lather's big log- rock. When the casing, thus swaddled ii JK '^hain." j leather and tlax-seed, was let down to place. When the swivel was tightly I the water gradually penetrated the leather -crewed on the length of casing, it and soaked the seed." In a few hours it swelled was hooked on the bud-wheel rope, [ so as to till the space around the pipe full and the engine started up. and the piece tight. Thus all the water was shut in between of pipe elevated until it hung up- the casing and the rock, and al)ove the sced- Striirel ''.U'ht. end to end with the length in tlu- well. A hi;; pair of tongs were now put on the ujiper piece of pipe, and it was screweil ilown into the coupling as far anil a- li^lit as it could be forced. 'J'lie chuii|) licld the lower piece from turning. \\ lien the connection was made secure the clamp was loosened enough to let the c<>ii|)ling pass tlii-oiii;h. 'J'he bull-wheel was turn- etl. and the pipe let down until the next coupling airiveii at the clamp; then the clamp dosetl on the pipe again, and held it. The swivel was unscrewed and att-.iched to another length of casing; and the operation repjated until a continu- ous casing was screwed together, y J .ind let ilown as far as the lirst saiul- lock. Great care was taken all the time tliat the hea\ v casin^r ^|lould Tonys. bag; it could not get into the casing, nor run down to Hood the well below t'.,e casing. The same work was, at the same time, done in the well on the next lease. The next step was to put in a pump and pump-pipe, called tnbhisr. The pump, or punii)-barrel, is a brass tube six feet long and two inches inside diameter. At the lower end its bore is contracted a little: this is to wedge in tightly the lower valve-box. Two valves operate in the |iump-barrel. The lower valve-box is sta- tionary, and therefore is called the ftiui(/iiiir- box. The other valve rises and tails in the barrel with the plunger. It is called the iij'/icr-box. These |nimp-boxes are of brass, have a " ball valve." and are surrounded with several rings of leather, call- iiot slip through and uo dou n Jie IJ'/'^'"/'""'/'*''^- ed " packing." to make them well with a crash; to this end the clamp 1 was kept just loose enough to let the pipe j sli|) through while it was beiig lowered, but not loose enough to let the coupling go through. Tluis if the engine, bull-wheel, drill, rope, or swivel. — any one, or all of them, ^ should gi\e way, the casing could fall onlv till the last coujiling reached the clamp; then the claui)) woukl stop the tailing pipe at the coupling. Two men attended the clamp while the casing was passing dow n. to see that it ke])t the work secure. But before the lirst piece was |nit in the well, the workmen fastened on the lowci- end wears them out fast, a ftcd-bair. The seed-bag is a sinii)le con- The pump-barrel, with the standing-box trivance for sealing u\> the space between the fixed securely in its lower end, was now casing and the rock wate.-iij.ht, so that no screwed on a length of two-inch iron tubing: water can pass down farther th:m the seed- another length on that, and so on, just as bag at the first sand-rock. It is a strong ; described in the operation of putting in the leather sack, about four feet long. They first ' casing. Tubing is very heavy and strong lashed it firmly around the lower end of the ' pipe;" none but the best" •• lap-welded" pipe easing. Then the bag vvas filled with flax- will hold the tremendous pressure of a column ' of oil six hundred feet high. tit tight in the barrel, and "suck" up the oil. A [iro- jection at the lower end of the working-box is fitted to screw into the standing- box ; by letting one box down on the otiier, ami turn- ing the upper one, the two become attached together, and so can be drawn out of the well when neetling re- pairs. ;is the leather pack- ings I'reciuently do. The "grit" in the oil Lowerpuinp boar. \ ■JBaHBwaai , 'ound the cat- ken leg with a made a hunch hirge enough ising and the hwaddk'd ii nvn to place, d the l.'ather )urs it swelled |)ipe full ami lit in hetween ove the seed- sing, nor run casing, lie time, done a puiii|) and le pump, or feet long and the lf)\ver end is is to wedge pump-harrel. e-box is sta- theret'oie is 'audi 11 i^ - box. .e rises and rel wilii ihe > called the •boxes are of ' bull valve." lunileii with leather, call- make them barrel, and oil. A pro- owcr end of )X is fitted he standing- ig one box er, and turn- one, the two I'd together. Jrawn out of neetling re- jnther pack- " in the oil itanding-box J, was now- iron tubing: 1 on, just as itting in the and .strong elded " pipe of a column 1 fA PETROLIA. 49 ;^ Arthur understood the necessities of this cnse, as he had learned in philosophy that the pressure of fluids depended not on the quan- tity, but the height of the column. He ex- plained to Fred that a one-inch pipe, ten feet long, full of water, would press just as heavily as a full pipe of the same length ten inches or ten feet in diameter. With all his talk, however, he couldn't make Fred believe it; in fact, he told Arthur that when he said ten inches of water, ten feet high, is as heavy as one inch of water ten feet high, he was "gasing." They now had three sizes of pipe in the well, — I. The drive-pipe (which yf)u who read the first of these arti- cles, in the March number of Ol'R Ilovs AND Girls, will remember was first driven in the earth) six inches in diameter, extending only down to the bed rock, twenty two feet. 2. The casing, with the seed-bag on, four and one half inches in diameter, extending down to the first sand, three hun- dred and thirty feet. 3. The tubing, two inches diameter, to g. IIUU the bottom of the well. The S la drive-])ipe was necessary to save \f\ drilling in sinking the well; the casing, to shut out water; the tubing, to conduct the oil up from the pump to the surface. Fred thought he had made a discoverv. "If / was doing this job," said he, confidently, " I would not put in so many pipes. I'd just tie the seed-bag on the liihiii!^ at the right spot to shut the water in auove, and so I'd save the cost of the casing. The tubing can just as well keep out the water as to put down casing a-purpose to do it." "Yes, and you'd be just about as smart as ivc used to be yea.'s ago!" answered one of the men. "Put the seed-bag on the tubing, and the first time you had to move the tubing to change the position of the pump, or had to haul it up for repairs, you'd burst the seed-bag, and down goes the water into your well. Then you've got to put on a new seed-bag, and you've made yourself a job of a week or two to get the water out again, besides ine damage done to the well every time you flood it. No, young man, casing is a cheap investment, merely to keep the water out." The next step was to set the pump going. The upper valve-box is operated in the barrel at the bottom of the well by means of .««f*cr- rods. These are slender hickory or ash poles, Sucker rod Joints. twenty feet long, on the ends of which are riveted irons that screw into each other, thus making a continuous sucker-rod to the bottom of the well. On the lower end the working- box is screwed, and the whole lowered in the tubing until the working-valve is in phue in the barrel. Fred had been long enough in " Petrolia " tr) get his wits sharpened, and learn to use his eyes and ears more, and his tongue less, than formerly. It is a great place to teach observa- tion. .So Fred decided, without asking any questions, that the sucker-rods were made of wood, instead of iron, to save weight in op- erating the pump. To the last sucker-rod there was screwed a round iron rod, which projected out of the top of the tubing. " Now for the ftnffing- hox ' " said the workmen. Fred again thought of tur- key when he heard the word •• stufling." The stufiing- box (instead of a roast tur- kev) is an iron that screws on the top of the tubing; has a hole through its top large enough to let the iron rod through: a space is left in the box, around the rod, to be filled or .•./////(v/ tight with cotton or rags to make the joint tight. In one side of the stuffing-box is a spout to let the oil out, as it could not rise above the stuffing around the rod. The rod was now attached to the working- beam, and they were ready to pump. The (jther well was also ready, and both com- menced to pump the same day. Evervbodv was now anxious to see what re- port the great Flag-and-Windmill Well would make after its long sleep. Would it spout again after the load of water was removed.' Would it vield anvlhing.' Ilowmuch'i' These were questions in which thousands of dollars for the boys and their uncle were involved. The pump from neither well brought up an} hing but water for ten days. All the crev- Stuffini/JSox . 50 PET R (J MA. ices and caverns from which so much oil nnd gas had risen wo-rc full ot water, and had to be emptied. At the end often days oil bfijan once more to come from the pump of the P'lag- and-VVindmill Well, ihis supply increased until the well had worked up to forty barrels a day — no more. The other well never produced oil in paying quantities. After two weeks' pumping there was a small "show," and at len^'th a yield of five barrels a day. This began to fall ofT. and in a few days the well was abantloned. Thus the proprietors of it became bankrupt, and the engine and tools were sold by the slierilf. It proved fortunate that uncle Charley had not consented to give them half the yield of the Flag-and Windmill Well. In damaging him so much they had ruined themselves. Arthur and Fred pitied them, although they had been the means of the Flag-and- Wind- mill Well losing hundreds of thousands of dollars. As they sat on the bull-wheel shaft of their ruined well, and gloomily contem- plated their buried hopes and fortunes, they were indeed pitiable. " What will they do now?" asked Fred, of his uncle. " O, they will go to work by the day on some well, and in a year or two they will earn and save up enough to buy an interest in an- other lease, and start in again. Probably the next you hear of them they will be worth half a million apiece. This isn't the first time they've failed, and probably it will not be the last. They don't care half so much about it as they seem to — not as much as you do. A 'busted greaser' never stays 'played out' long." The boys were also much disappointed in the yield of their own well since its restora- tion. Forty barrels a day, by the slow and expensive means of pumping, seemed to them small business when they thought of the former self-operating fountain of eight hun- dred barrels' capacity. As usual, anxious to know the cause of everything, they sought from their uncle an explanation of the falling off of the well. " What is the reason.'" Arthur asked, " that the well does not do more. What has become of all the oil and gas we once found? Why does water in the well injure it so?" For reply, his uncle took him to a tank through which oil and water had been run- ning some time. Part of the oil vvas thick as ' mud. nnd there was a gathering of sticky, wax- like, brownish matter in the tank. He ex- plained. I "That thick stuff is faraffinc. It will form and harden in oil exposed to the action of , water or air. When the well is left with water in it this paralline is separated, settles in the crevices and openings of the oil veins, and I soon putties them up. j "Besides that, tiie action of water in a well I left idle washes down dirt and smt 11 stones, which form a sediment at the bottom of the well, and choke up the seams. Then there is so much salt water in all wells that salt crystallizes on the walls of the well, and helps obstruct the How of oil. Again, in some wells the water has so much lime or other mineral in it, that a crust forms on the tubing, just as you have seen it on the inside of the tea-kettle. I presume the same crust forin^ on the sides of the well. "All these things help to form permanent obstructions in the well. Besides, in many cases, the same oil veins are tapped by other wells, and while one is lying idle the others may carry off all, or nearly all the oil in that particular bpsin." "Well, uncle," said Fred, "no other well has carried off all our oil, for there is some there yet." " Yes, I think there is a good lot of it there yet. I think pnrafline is the principal ob-truc- tion in our well." " Can't we get it out ? " asked one of the boys. "O, yes; paralline is the easiest of all the obstructions to remove. We will try some benzine on it to-morrow." The next day several wagon loads of ben- zine, in barrels, came, and the boys had a chance to see how it operated on paralline. They took a little of the thickest they could get, and poured some benzine on it. It dis- solved the paraffme in a few moments. The tubing was now drawn out of the Flag- and-Windmill Well. This operation required only a few hours. One of the workmen asked Fred where his well would be now if there was no casing in it, and the seed-bag was on the tubing? When the tubing was out, thev eiTiptied twenty-four barrels of benzine into the well, filling it partly full. They leu it thus a few hours for the benzine to act on the paraffme. The boys went frequently to see how the well got along with that dose of benzine in it. To their surprise it gradually sunk in the well, until they could not touch benzine with ten sucker-rods screwed together. Fred ran ex- citedly to the shanty, and called out, — " O. uncle, the well has sprung a leak some- where, and the benzine is all running out!" J It will form the action of eft with water t-cltlos in tlie )il veins, and ater in n well stnf II stones, e bottom of earns. Then all wells that the well, and gain, in some iine or other Jii the tubing, : inside of the rust forms on ni permanent ;les, in many )l)cd by other He the others le oil in that TO other well liere is some lot of it there :ipal ob>truc- le of the boys. est of all the ill try some oads of bun- boys had a on paralline. St they could ■n it. It dis- icnts. : of the Flag- tion required irkmcn asked now if there i-bai; was on vas out, thev benzine into They left it to act on the see liow the )enzine in it. k in the well, ine with ten Fred ran ex- )Ut, — a leak some- tiing out!" I ■' i r c tr V. I ■ ■ '''" li'l'i''", 'i' i-ii Hi ; 1 1 |i ;* PETROLIA. 53 <-• i How the men lajghed ! Uncle Charley ex- plained that the benzine was cutting the par- affine in the oil veins, and by a tremendous pressure of six hundred feet head, was forcing its way into all the crevices. They put in eight barrels more of benzine, and left it to cut and press a whole day. At the end of that time the pump was put down again. At first only benzine came. After the bulk of that was out, oil began to come in increased quantities. The benzine had worked so well that the yield ran up from forty to seventy barrels a day. They continued to get occa- sionally small quantities of benzine with it, showing how that fluid had forced its way back into the crevices. Chunks of pavalline also came up, like clotted oil; some of it was lighter colored, and quite firm. This increased yield did not last long. The flow began in a few days to fall off again. So this proved to be only a temporary remedy. The well continued for some time producing what would be considered anywhce else but in " Petrolia " a very large revenue. Although it paid uncle Charley twenty-five to thirty-five dollars each day, above all expenses, he was not satisfied; and finally declared "that tuppenny business was played out. I'll blow up the well, and make it do more, or nothing." " Blow it up ! " echoed Arthur; " how will you do that?" " I'U put a torpedo in it." "Torpedoes! Fireworks! O, goody!" ex- claimed Fred, with "enthusiastic applause," as the play-bills say. "You won't see much fireworks," said his uncle; "but if you and Arthur will go to Titusville, and tell Mr. Roberts that we want the Flag-and-Windmill Well ' torpedoed,' we'll sec if w . can't show you some o»7-works." They went, and did the business correctly. A man was sent down the next day with the torpedo. The boys, as usual, wide awake to any new thing, very soon found out the machin- ery to explode the well. They discovered first a long tin tube, closed at one end and open at the other, two feet long, ai.d two inches in diameter. This they learned was to be loaded with the explosive mut'-rial. Then they fished out of a basket a queer iron contrivance. This was the head to the torpedo, to be fitted in after the cas.e was full, and ready to let down in the well. Of course Fred had to try it on the c.nse, " to see how it would fit." It didn't fit at all tightly; in fact it hung quite losely in the end of the case. "Hallo!" said Fred; "this won't do. You've brought the wrong head. It don't fiti and it will let the water in and spoil the pow- der. You have got to go back and get anotiier head." The man looked at Fred curiously, «nd said, "Boy, are you running this torpedo business?" Fred got snubbed for talking too fast and too soon. When the man saw how confused Fred looked, he good-naturedly explained to him that they did not use powder, but a sub- stance called nitro-glycerine. It will explode in water, and is thirteen times more powerful than gunpowder. He brought the nitro-gly- cerine with him in a can, and he poured out a little and showed it to the boys. It looked like clear oil or syrup. He told them he should set it off in the well, not by touching a fire to it, as in the case of powder, but by shooting a bullet down into it. He put a few ops on a stone, and dropped another stone on it: it ex- ploded like a small cannon. He told them many stories about nitro-glycerine. Once an engineer at an oil-well stole a can of it, and used it for several days to grease his engine with. One day he set the can on the boiler to warm the oil : he thought it was cold and stiff. In a few minutes it exploded, and killed the man, and blew the engine-house, boiler, and machinery into thousands of pieces. Messrs. Roberts Bros.' nitro-glycerine magazine, near Titusville, exploded one day. The concussion was heard sixty miles away, and people all over that region thought another earthquake was at hand. The man now poured ths nitro-glycerine into the tin case of the torpedo, and put the head on the case. The head of the torpedo was the hardest to understand. There was a round iron plug three inches Icng, bored out hollow, like a small cannon — which in fact it is. The vent, or nipple, and percusion-cap to shoot it, are in the rear, instead of on one side or on top of this little cannon. The cap and nipple are protected by being in a little round hole or chamber drilled in the iron. This little cannon is suspended, muzzle down- ward by an iron bail or handle; this bail sup- ports both the case and the head when be- ing let down into the well by means of a strong string or wire. The hammer to strike off the cap has a little point on it, ..mall enough to reach down into the chamber in which the cap is set, and strike the cap. There is a hole in the hammer, through which the bail of the torpedo passes. This lets the hammer rise above the bail. The string that suspends the torpedo is tied to the bail, and passes through wmmm •••j y.ii I L. 54 I'ETKOLI A. a small hole in the upper pnit of the hammer. Now when a weiijht is sent down on the strinij, it will strike the hammer before it does the bail. In order to keep water out of the cham- ber in which the cap is. a rubber band or col- lar is slipped over the joint between the chuinher ami the hammer; this keeps out the water, but is elastic enouj,'h to let the hanmier drop down a.ijainst the cap when the weight comes down on toj) of it (the hammer). The cannon or phiir was loaded with .!,nm- powder and a bull of lead, the caj) put on, and the rubber band slipped overthe joint. The man then fixed the head into the case by two little screws. It was all ready, and he be;,'an to let it down slowly into the well by a coil of cord. When enough cord had been paid out to sink the torpedo t(; a point o])posite the oil crevi- ces, the messenger to discharge it was slipped on the line. This is a tin tube eight inches lon^r, with a ball of jeaii on one end. The hall alone would vibrate, and bound from siile to side, and break the string. The tin tube serveii as a tail or guiile to it, to kec|) it steady. Kreil undorstootl the elVect of this bv his experience with ilarls and arrows, lie also compared the weight to the "messengers" he used to send up on the line to his kite. All was now ready, and the little messenger was started down the line through six hun- y^~ dred feet of -..-ater. to discharge the magazine. The people around the well expected a great eru|Uion. and stood back a respectful distance. The only occurrence was a suppressed, Torfcdo Head. , •, . , ....i •. ' dull report, and a little agita- tion in the well. "Why don't it blow the water out.'" asked the astonished and disappointed boys. " Wafer is just as good wadding as paper, , if you get enough of it on top the load. It would take a bigger torpedo than ever was made yet to start that column of water up," said uncle Charley. The torpedo agent added, " W'e have to strengthen the case of the torpedo with steel ribs all around the inside, else the pressure | would collapse it." While this talk was going on. Arthur stood gazing intently down the well. .Sudilenly he exclaimed, — " Well, the water A- blowed uji, and //'.•! com- iiiff up no-v!" And with these words he start- ed on a run out of the derrick, pale wi'h fright, as if he thou;(ht torpedo, water, oil, gas, we'l, and all were after him. At the same instant all the rest started towards the well to t.ee what had frightened Arthur. Hefore they got to the well they were showered with water and oil. The Flag-and-Windmill Well had begun to spout again ! , Arthur stood SudtlL-nly lie , and //'.'! com- .ords he start- ile wi'li fright, oil, gas, we'l, rest started lad frightened he well they il. had begun to PETROLIA. 55 ^J H I PART V. MABKETINC OIL. - A FIEHY PKESHET. THE sudden jump of the Flag-and- Wind- mill Well from forty barrels up to two hundred, when " torpedoed," lifted uncle Charley, Arthur, and Fred on the top wave of fortune again, as their oil-boats had been lifted and carried away on pond freshets in former days. Owing to the better regulated systems of doing business, a two-hundred bar- rel well now was as profitable as an eight- hundred barrel well was at the time the Flag- and-Windmill Well was first struck. They had not now to pay so large a portion of their earnings for hauling the oil by teams; it was all transported by other means. Also, the market was more settled, and paid more profitable figures. They never had any fears now of oil going down to ten cents a barrel, as was the case once, when so many big spouting wells were struck. The "flooding" cf the market at that time, while it made oil almost worthless, and ruined many individuals, had a good effect, viz., it made oil so cheap that it came rapidly into use all over the civilized world, taking the place of all other illumina- tors. Thus a permanent demand for petro- leum was created, which the owners of wells afterwards got the good of, in a steady, cer- tain market. Another reason why uncle Charley and the boys did better with a smaller well was, be- cause they were not at the expense of buying barrels; they sold all their oil in bulk. This expense, which was once many times the value of the oil contained in the barrels, they now saved for their pockets. When the large supply of oil recommenced, Arthur began to look about for the storage for it. He discovered, for the first time, that during their absence in Massachusetts uncle Charley had sold all but two of their tanks. Visions of another wasteful scene, like that when the Flag-and-Windmill Well was first struck, came in his mind. In consternation he ran to his uncle with — " Why, uncle, what has become of all the tanks ? Where shall we put the oil ? " " O, there's tankage enough, I guess! When our tanks get full we'll pipe it I " an- swered he, coolly. "Pipe it! Pipe it! "said the boys. "What's that!" Thev soon discovered a pipe had been laid from their tanks to a large iron tank a few rods below. When their tanks were full, uncle Charley told the boys to go down to a little building near the big tank, and tell the agent of the Pipe Line, that the Flag-and- Windmill Well wanted to deliver some oil. They went. On the building was a little sign, which read — BLOWALL PIPE LINE CO. Station No. 9. ■ They found the agent inside, and did their errand. He said " they could turn on in about twenty minutes; if they would wait he'd tell them when he was ready." They waited. In a few minutes he went out to the big tank. The boys, of course, followed, and all three climbed up a ladder to the top of the tank. It was covered over, except a hole about two feet square, to which a trap door was fitted, like all the rest of the work, of iron. The top was covered over with sods, on which green grass and flowers were growing. " Well," exclahned Fred, " I should think this was one of the hanging gardens we read about I What ma'Kes you let this tank all grow up to grass so ? " " We sodded it over to keep the sun off; the heat of the sun sometimes sets gas and oil on fire, and explodes a tank." " How large is this tank? how much does it hold?" asked Fred. "It is eighteen feet high, forty-five feet across, and holds about five thousand bar- rels," answered the agent. " Then there are about two thousand five hundred barrels of oil in it now. It's about half full, I should think," said Arthur, peering down into the tank. " We v on't guess at it, I reckon," said ths agent, smiling. He then took a long pole, o.i which feet, inches, and quarters of inches were marked, and set it down to the bottom of the tank. Pulling it up again he looked at the mark of the oil on the pole, and found the depth of the oil to be eight feet three and one- fourth inches. Putting this measurement down in a little book, he said, " Now you may turn in your oil." " But aren't you going to empty the tank first? We don't want our oil to go in with any- body else's oil, I guess," said the excicable Fred. "It won't make any difference if il does mix. Your oil isn't any heavier than the pro- duction of other wells here. It makes no dif- 111 56 PETROLIA. ference to you, to long as you gtc back all the oil you put in, does it?" said the agent. " I kno"Ar how many barrels there are in the tank now, and I will measure again, after your oil is in, and then we'll know how much you have run in." " How can you tell by the feet and inches how many barrels there are ? " asked Arthur. "Go and tell your uncle to turn in the oil, and then come back to the office, and I'll show you," replied the agent. They did so. In the office the agent showed them a paper, all covered with figures; it was framed, and hung up. He explained, — "This is a gauge-table. This cok .in of red figures shows the depth of the tank, by quarters of an inch. And this column of black figures opposite shows the quantity of oil for each measurement." Arthur looked on the gauge-table for the depth the agent had entered on his book. He read it off thus: — 8f. 3 1-4 in. . . . 98,398 gals. "Now," said the agent, "divide that by forty-three, and see how many barrels there are in the tank." Arthur quickly announced the result to be two thousand two hundred and eighty-eight barrels and fourteen gallons over. "You see," said the agent, "your guess of twenty-five hundred barrels was too liigh : it would have lo^t you about two hundred and twelve barrels of oil." Presently the oil had ceased running in from the Flag-and-Windmill Well's tanks, and they went out and took another measurement. It was twelve feet eight intlies. Looking on the gauge-table, they read again, — i2f. 8 in. i.io>695 gnls. " Now subtract your other number from that, and you will know how much oil you have delivered," said the agent. Both tlie boys "worked the example," and found the difference betwev;n the two quantities measured to be fifty-two thousand two lumdroii ami ninety-.seven gallons. They divided this by forty-three, and learned thoy had one thou- sand two hundred and sixteen barrels of oil to pipe. This amount the agent put down to tlie credit of the Flag-and-VVindmill Well. He j also entered it on a little deposit book, which j ho gave to them, just like a bank depositor's book, only he entered barrels and gallons of oil in it instead of dollars and cents. " There," said he, when it was done, " now you can check out your oil any time you please." " Will we get the oil here f" asked the boys. "No; at the railroad station." " Why.," said Fred, " that's four miles from here. How will you get the oil over there?" "Come in here and I will show you," he answered. He took them into an engine house, where there was a boiler attached to a machine, that looked like an engine, with a tall, hollow air- chamber. "H.-^lloo!" cried Fred. "See this funny engine, with a balloon on it!" "That's not an engine," said the agent, " it is a forcc-pnmp. It forces the oil through four miles of pipe, to the company's tanks on the railroad. It runs by steam, and has force enough to carry the oil over hills that dis- tance. Your oil will all be over the mountain in a short time; but you can check out, and sell it now if you want to. There is plenty of oil in the company's tank to draw from." The next day uncle Charlie told the boys they might go to Oil City, and sell five hun- dred barrels of oil — he had such confidence in their business capacity and trustworthiness. He told them to get from the agent of the Pipe Line a "certified check" for so much oil, and sell it for the best price they could get. Arthur went to the office, and told the agent he wanted to call five hundred barrels of oil. "To whose order shall I draw it?" asked he. " I don't know. It is not sold yet," replied Arthur. "Very well. I'll leave it blank." He then filled out a printed order, to read like this : - - Barrels, 500. BLOWALL PIPE LINE, Deliver to or order, Five Hundred Bbls. Crude Petroleum, of 43 galls, e.icli. and charge to account of Flag-and- Windmill Well. Collect 25 cts. pipeage. CiiAS. Arthur & Fred Sears. A line in fine type at the top of this blank, said, "This order is not good until accepted by agent of station at which the oil is re- ceived." Accordingly the agent wrote his "acceptance" across the face of the order, in red ink, in these words ; — ".VCCEPTED at owners' risk for any loss by Fire, Leakage, Evaporation, or Bursting of Tanks. "John Wardwell, "Agent for Bluwall Pipe Line." \y time you ted the boys. r miles from ver there?" ow you," hf louse, -.vhere lachine, tliat , hollow air- ; this funny i the agent, ; oil through ly's tanks on nd has force lU that dis- he mountain eck out, and :re is pl«nty aw from." )ld the boys ell five hun- :onfidence in itworthiness. igent of the or so much ; they could iiid told the dred barrels ?" asked he. yet," replied c." He then like this :-- r order, Five , of 43 galls, f Flag-and- KD Sears. f this blank, ntil accepted le oil is re- it wrote his the Older, in for any loss • Bursting of WELL, *ipe Line." pl'!'^;!^i1i|iii!i;l|l!|!|||^ ■'!?;!':- yi.:'-,.V^'. »* Pki I rr The "pipenge ' is the cliarg^ -f twenty-five cents ft barrel for transporting t. c oil through the pipe. This certified order was all the boys needed to sell their oil with. It was as good ns if Ihey took the oil with them on wagons or rars. The little slip of paper was tjood for five hundred barrels of oil anywhere. They went to Oil City, where large sales of oil were made daily, and where brge numbers of re- finers, agents for foreign dealers, agents for refineries in dift'erent parts of the country, speculators, oil-brokers, &c., met well-owners and sellers of oil. Hundreds of thousands of dollars' worth here exchanged hands daily. Arthur mixed up with the throng, ?'id lis- tened to the prices asked and paid for crude. Much of the talk he could not understand, as he was not acquainted with the terms used. He understood enough to satisfy himsell what he should ask for his oil. As they were pushing their way into an ex- Cited knot of dealers, one of the men said, im- patiently, "'Boys, stand back! Go 'way.' What do you want heij? This is no place for boys." " I want to sell sorr oil," said Arthur. " O, yon do ! What you got ? " " Five hundred barrels crude, at the deliv- ering tank of the Blowall Pipe Line." "Give you $3.26." "Guess not," said Arthur; " I just heard offers as high as $4.10." The man found he could not cheat Arthur, and so moved away. Three or four dealers, attracted by the novel sight of the boys doing business there, had gathered around. In a few minutes Arthur sold his oil to one of these men for $4.25. He first deducted two barrels for each hundred, which the Pipe Line re- tained to make itself good for leakage. This left him four hundred and ninety barrels to fell. This, at $4.25 per barrel, came to $2,082.50, as Arthur figured it up. The pur- chaser reckoned it, and at first made a mistake of over one hundred dollars. He said, " I guess you've made a mistake, young man." " May be I have; PU work it again," replied Arthur. Fred, meantime, picked up the paper the man had been figuring upon, and reviewed his work. In a minute he said, respectfully, — "Mister, haven't you made a mistake?" And he pointed out the error. The man looked at it a minute, and then, with much confusion at being caught in a blunder by a bov, said, — P 1: T R O L I A . 59 "Yes, yes, I presume your figiues are all right." " I am sure they are," said Arthur, who had by this time been over them twice. " Two thousand and eight"-two fifty is correct." " How much is^'ourpipeage.'" asked theman. " Twenty-five cents per barrel," said Arthur. " Well, take that out. How much does it amount to?" asked the man. Arthur quickly found that the tankage would be ore hundred and twenty-two dollars and fifty cents. Subtracting this amount from the first one, Arthur found the balance to be one thousand nine hundred and sixty dollars. For this sum the purchaser gave them a check on an Oil City bank. Tlicy took the check to the bank, and asked the cashier to give them a certificate of deposit for the money, which he did. This certificate of deposit they could sell precisely as they had sold the accepted or- der for oil. When the man paid them for the oil, he took out two five c* ...ar bills and gave one to each of the boys, saying, "You just keep mum about that mistake of mine ! " The boys said they would keep still about it, if he wanted them to, without the money, and tried to make him take it back. He said, "O, that's all right; keep it. If you don't want it, send it home to your sisters, if you've got any, to buy dolls with." And so he left them. Fred said, — " Well, he's a funny man. Good one. too." "I guess he's got some girls and boys of his own at home," said Arthur. When the boys got back, uncle Charley praised them for managing the business so well, and told them they might market all the oil thereafter. So, as often as five hundred barrels of oil accumulated, and the market was up to a good paying price, the bo^'s made a sale of it. They soon became as well known " on change," as any of the old oil men. They were prompt, accurate, bright, and civil, and at the same time fresh and boy-like, so that everybody liked to see them, and deal with them. FVed's theory was a good one; most of the men had families and children at home, far away, and liked to be reminded of them by the presence of a couple of good, bright boys. The boys found ready, good-natured answers to their numerous questions, and so they soon became well posted regarding everything con- nected with the business. One day a famous oil-broker, who had taken quite a fancy to them, said, — "Boys, oil is going up soon. Why don't you hold ynurs for a rise?" "Uncle doesn't think it is going up, and he ' million :ind a half of dollars hy the same rise says sell," answered Arthur. on oil they held. Onlv Arthur learned they '• Your unele isn't posted. I'll tell you what did not buy or own the oil they had made you do. Let jour uncle sell his share, if he their money on at all. They only took '■ op- wants to, and you store your share sixty days, tions " on it. and then, when it went up, and see who comes out ahead." sold it for the latest price, and paid the The boys thought the matter over, and llnal- real owners the old, low price. This is what ly cone luded to hold /(//-^ of their oil. as the they call "bulling" the market — as if they broker advised. So they hired tankage, and had ]nit horns uiuler the piice of oil, and had five hundred barrels of their share stored, raiseil it. ^\■hen, hy the same means, the price Uncle Charley told them they would lose by not selling; but they were determined to tiy it on one lot. Arthur suid, — '•The price is low now. Everybody s.ays it can't go iiiHcft lower. If we see it decline fast, we can sell that much any day, and not lose much. It will not break us if we do lo>e !-"imething on this lot. and we ivav make." Tlie result proved that the oil-broker was a better judge of the market prospects than un- cle Charley. In less than a month oil began to advance. In ; short time it rose three dol- lars on a barrel, and the boys sohl. They cleared on that lot one tliousaiul five hundretl dollars more than they woulil if they had sold, and that much more than uncle Charley of oil was fori:ed down, they called it "•bear- ing" the market — as if they had readied sharp claws up and puUeil tlie price down. One day the jiroprielor of a big oil refinery at CleM'land, Ohio, who liail got ac(|uainted with the bovs. anil had \isited them at the Klag-and-Windmill Well, telegraphed them as I'lillow- : — •■ To Arthur and Fred. ••Klag-and-Windmill Well: '•.Ship me eight hundred bbls. crude, and draw for amt., at current price this day. •• Wm. Winsor." As they did not have quite so nu.-:u oil on hand as this order called for, they had to buy had made by selling before the ri-e. The fact j some to make up the amount, .\rthur pro- was, a few large dealers were managing mat- ; posed to go to Oil City and buy it; but his ters so as to force the market up. and Arthur uncle said thev could buy it a little under the and I'red had been let info the secret. , market at some of the wells near by. Oil be- This same "ring" of speculators cleared a | ing now on the decline, with a prospect of its I PETROLIA. 6i y^^^L vWi#/-| lie same rise earned they V had made \y took '• op- it went up, 111 paid the riiis is -wliat — as it" tlicy of oil, and ns. the price jd it "bear- lad reached CO down. .' oil retinery t aeiiiiainled them at the )hed them as [ Well .■ i. crude, and s day. . Winsor." niu^u oil on y haii to buy Arthur pro- i- it ; but Ills le under the by. Oil be- ospect of its I ! "Now, let's smother it!" cried Uncle Charley. goin;^ "^till lower in price, owners of small lots would be anxious to sell, and wovild take less tiian current market rates, in anticipation of ijetting even less if they held it. The boys soon jiicked up enough, here and there. to fill the ortler, ami got the most of it at prices from ten to thirty cents below the market. Tiiat much was prolit. They had it all piped to the railroad. 'J'luy then went to the office of the Oil Car Trans- portation Co., and engageii cars to take eight huiidi-ed barrels of oil to Cleveland. The cars tliev engaged were called tdiik-cur^. A tank-car is a common tlat car. with two wotxi- en tanks set upon it. Each of these tubs holds forty barrels, making each car carry eighty barrels of oil in bulk. Thus the cost of barrels is saved. It took ten cars to carry the oil to Cleveland. The Blowall Pipe Company's delivering tank held twenty thousand barrels of oil when full. It was located as near the railroad track as it could be safe from the fire of passing trains, and elevated on a bank higher than the track. A large iron pipe from the tank is laid on a platform ten feet high, by the side of the track, tor several rods. To this pipe are attached long-nosed spouts, at such places as will bring a spout opposite each tank on a train of oil cars. Each spout has a stop-cock, which is turned by a wrench, to let out the oil. This platform, with its pi)ies, spouts, &c., is called a sliippiiitr-rangc. Arthur directeil the oil train to haul up be- side the shipping-range. The covers to the holes in the tops of the car-tanks were un- screwed and taken off. The spouts, which were attached to ''goose-necks," and could be turned any way, were placed in the tanks. Arthur and Fred now went through on the platl'orm. and turned all the sto|i-cocks, and the oil ran furiously into all the twenty tanks at once — the big reservoir of oil on the bank alo.e forcing it through with a great pi-es- sure. In a verv few minutes the tanks were a'.i full. The stop-cocks were turned, the > pouts taken up, swung around on the plat- form, and laid down alongside of the main pipe. The Transportation Company then gave Arthur a shipping bill or receipt for the oil. stating how much oil had been delivered on the cars, to whom, where, and for what price it was to be carried. This bill he sent by mail to Mr. Winsor, at Cleveland. Ho then went to the bank, and drew a draft on Mr. Winsor for the amount of the eight hundred barrels of oil. 6« PETROL I A. While the hoys were at Titusville, on this fJMsiness, a despatch came over the wires, say- ing that a Rreat fire was raginjj on the Run, on wliich the Fla-j-and-Windmil! Well was situated. They took the first train back. Lonfj before they reached the spot, they saw the smoke and i,''aie of" an immense conllagra- tion. Ab they nearcd the spot, they saw the grandest, but most terrible sight they had ever seen or imaj^ined. No one knew how the fire commenced. The first warning was an explosion, and a sheet of flame f.om a small tank, a few rods pbove the Klag-and-Uindmill Well. The fire spread rapidly after being once started. On the gas that filleil the air, the flanies leaped from well to well, and from t.nnk to tank. Each well became a burning one. The flames wreathed and twined up the tall derricks, which, being dry, and saturated with oil, burned with won- d-'ful fury and brilliancy; on these hi'ideis the fire climbed, and from the tops soared far up into the air. The explotled tanks covered the ground with oil, and this soon formed a burning riier, which flowed down the moun- tain, destroying all before it. The Flag-and-Windmill Well had been reached by the liery flood before the boys got there; they were jusi in time to get a glimpse of the flag at the top of the derrick, before it fell. Everythii g else was covered and con- cealed in a dense, black smoke and flames. The volume and blackness of the smoke was !vonderful ; it made such a coutra ,t and back- ground to the flames, that belched out fro: i the midst of it, that th-y .-esembled flashes and streaks of lightning in th; blackness of night. It seemed as if the flame was wrapped and siTiothered in a biack swathing, from which it was coristantly struggling, with fierce roars, to escape, and only succeeding partially. ]n this contest between smoke and flame, it rose two or three hundred feet in the air, pitching and writhing like monstrous birds in warfare. This sight, so utterly beyond de- scription, and disastrous as it was, held Ar- thur and Fred spellbound with awe and admi- ration. All they had ever^een, read, or ima- gined did not equal it. One man, who had seen a grand volcanic eruplion, and passed through a great earthquake, said thi« wps a more wonderful sight than the former, and a more wonderful scene thai: the latter. The heat of ten thousand barrels of burning oil, with the gas of a dozen wells, and the wood- work of tanks, engine-houses, derricks, build- ings, &c., thrown in for kindlings, drove ev erybody ha/fa mile back. Of course, nothing could be done, to extin- guish such a maelstrom of fire as this. When it came to a tank, or a little pond of water, the conflagration was only more terrific; the con- test between the two elements added new and more terrible fury to the flame. All the fire engines in the world, playingon this Hre, would not have stopped it. Water never can put out m oil fire. The only thing to do is, to confine it and let it burn itself out. The fire was rapidly making its way down t'le hill, finding new material, and increasing its volume constantly. In its course, on the river bank, lay a town, and numerous big tanks of oil. If it reached there, it would de- stroy all this, and get volume enough to pour out on the river, and cover its surface with a sheet of flame, to roll down aiid destroy all below. No one could tell where the destruc- tion of property, and perhaps life, would en J, if the bui ning s,.ream flowed on. Worst of all, no one seemed to know what to do; hundreds of men stood, as if jiaralyzed, by the horrors of the conflagration. At this crisis, uncle Charley called all the men to follow him. He led them down the Run, below the fire, and began to throw up a dam, to stop the burning oil. This effort, at first, did not succeed. The fiery freshet reached them before they had get their work done, and drove them off. It filled the dam with a seething, roaring flood of llaine, and presently poured over in a grand cascade of fire, and resumed its way to the river. The men now went farther down, and se- lecting a spot between two high ledges of rocks, began to throw up another dam. The location was favorable, the time to work in longer, and as many fresh men were arriving every minute, Uiei ; was more help, so they did much better execution. The spot was covered with men like bees in a hive, and as all were stalwart, hard-working tnen, mostly young, who were now fighting destruction ofl:' their own property, they did wonders. Refore the burning stream had reached the spot the dam was done. '• Now," cried uncle Charley, " come up here, men, with your shovels! " They all followed him up to the top of the high banks of their impromptu dam. Here he had them collect piles of loose earth on the brow of the bank. " What is this for? " asked several. " Wait and see," said their self-elected leadet. In a few moments the first waves of oil and fire began to pour down the gulch into the dam. "Now let's smother it!" shouted uncle Charley. ' r i: r :< ( ) L I A . " H'>rr!\h I " cried the men. when tlu-v iiii- ierstood the plan ; "let's smother it I" And hundreds of shovels sent the damp, heavy earth down over the hurning caldron. This had more ctVect tli m an v quantity of water could. It deadened the tlamc somewhat. I "And how do you pinpnse to get this infor- mation?" asked uticle Charley. " By the direction of the spirits," answered the man. " Well," said uncle Charley, " if you think tli.it is a pretty certain way to locate paying The dam retained tlie st»ea,n until the (ire ! wells, why don't you go into it for yoursell.' burned itself out. sufficiently so that the Iresh If you'U take a half interest and pay half the avalanches of dirt -sent down finally covered and smothered it. In this fire, twenty-eight wells and their rigs and tanks, and fifty thousand barrels of oil, were destroyed. The Flag-and-VVindmill Well was now ru- ined again. Its production had been steadily reducing, until, at the time of the fire, it was not paying largely. The fire finished it. and it was never restored. Although the boys and 'heir uncle lost a large amount in the fire, they had. on the whole, cleared en:-inr|, money, so that each of the boys had $9,500 of his own. PART VI. PROSPECTING FOR TERRITORY, - FINDING "THE BELT.' TTTITH the burning of the Flag-and-Wind- » V mill Well, uncle Charley, and Arthur, and Fred went out of the oil business in that locality. They sold their lease and went to search for other oil territory. TI.ey ha I be- come such confirmed " greasers," — the boys, as well as their uncle, — that they were less ready than ever before to quit the business. The excitement of seeking gieasy wealth, through all risks and obstacles, had become a necessity to them. Several weeks were spent in looking for ter- ritory that promised to afford paying wells. In those places where the best wells had been found, the land had all been snatched up by sharp and early speculators. These men held their leases so high, demanding so large a royalty for their shares, — sometimes reserving as nigh as three fourths of all the oil found, — that the boys did not care to invest and take so many chances to get so little oil at last. On the other hand, where they could get fa- vorable leases, the territory was not prom- ising. One day, in their prospecting for territory, expense, we'll put down a well as you, or the spirits, direct." This the man declined to do. At another time they came across another kind of " oil-smeller." as they are called, lie took a forked stick, cut from a hazel-bush, and holding the two ends of the fork in his hands, with the joined end of the twig up- ward, he walked slowly over the land where it was sujjposed oil might be found. At cer- tain points the twig bent slowly downward, from an upright position, until, without hav- ing turned the ends in the man's hands, it pointed straight towards the earth. lie claimed he had nothing to do with its point- ing down, and, in fact, that he was not able to stop its turning. In proof of this, he showed that the bark had been twisted and loosened where he held it in his hands. This mystified the boys very much. They asked their uncle what made the twig turn down. "The man says it is the oil in the ground that attracts it, and pulls it over, as the north pole does the needle of the compass." "Cut does it? Is it oil?" asked the incred- ulous boys. "Well," said their uncle, cautiously, "I never heard of hazel-twigs pointing out any rich territory. It is called witch-hazel, be- cause people have supposed it had some super- natural powers, like a witch. But I have seen twigs from the peach and other trees act the same way. So I guess there is about as much witch in one tree as in another, and none in any of them, if foolish men let them alone /do .1 a cent on territory located by su- pernatural means. There are those who do. however, and they sometimes get paying wells, though not any more frequently, or any more surely, than where wells are located entirely by wild-catting." " What is wild-catting?" asked Fred. "What we are at. We are 'wild-cats,' prowling around the country, seeking to de- vour a good show," answered the uncle. While this conversation was going on, the they met a man who ofiered to tell them ex- party l«ad been sitting on a ledge of rocks actly where they could find a good well, by overlooking a wild and romantic Tcene. The bori' sr, if they would pay him five iiundred dot- Alleghany River ran far b^low them, and lh«>y lars for the information. , could trace its winding course for many miles. 64 PETROL I A. Its white strip tnroui,'h the dark lanilscape of mountain nnd forest lookcil likf n silver band on a velvet cloak, Fred Miid. Ileie and there the dark backj;r<>iind was also sperkleil willi white, where the fsteani of an enKi'ic showed a live oil well. On the other side was a wild ravine, down which a small stream fretted and roared. While uncle Charlev and Fred were enjoyin;^ the scenery and commenting on it. Arthur was differently engaged. He was looking about him, but with a purpose in view. Me became so interested in what he was investigating, that he left the party, and. going up to the top of the hill, climbed a tn'c. " What are you after.'" at length cried his uncle; "have you treed a coon? I should think you were ' wild-catting' in earnest." " I am," said Arthur. Presently he came down from the tree, and told them what he had discovered. He said that he had noticed that the point where they sat down was on a line between the producing territory on the river and that on the creek. By climbing the tree he had discovered, still further, that the puffs of steam from engine- houses, which indicated operating wells, were Almost all in a line, sighting from the tree, both on the river and on the erf i '■, six miles apart. Off that line there were n , derricks, but no life; they were dry wells: , gines and working beams were motiot ''Now, what does that mean.'" thought i^ithur. '• It means that those wells that are produ- cing are on an oil-belt, as it is called. There may be two belts, one on the river and one on the creek. If both developments are on the same belt, and we are on the direct line be- tween them, I shouldn't wonder if the belt runs right through under this spot." Uncle Charley grew excited as he rapidly tc!d this theory off to the boys. He was walking quickly towards the tree from which Arthur had f'escended, talking and gesticulat- ing, as he v.ent. He climbed the tree, and looked long and carefully ovnr the many miles of territoi j spread out before him. In all that vast area the producing wells lay in one line, as Arthur had described. While there were hundrecs of cWrricks in sight, the derricks of the /ifc wells were in a line that he could look across almost as he could along a row of shade trees. " I declare, boys ! " cried he, excitedly, from his high lookout, "I believe we've rtrurl. a big thing. I believe we're on the same belt." " How are we going to find out for certain ? " asked Fred, when Iws uncl.e had descended. " That's the question now before the meet- ing," replied uncle Charley. "If the wclU over the other ^ide of the river and these up here on the creek are alike in depth, and ap- pearance of oil, and of the rocks bored through, I should be inclined to think they are all on one belt. And. of course, if they arc, all this territory, for six miles on the direct line be- tween them, is on that belt also, and will be good ten itory, though no one suspects it now." "Then we can lease this territory cheaply, if we want to, I sui)pose; ' said Arthur. •• Yes; or buy it out almost at our own fig- ures. These 'Buckwheats' don't know any- thing about its value," said his uncle. "Buckwheats!" said the boys; "what are they .' " "Ah." said his uncle, laughing, "that's a slang name some people give to the farmers and residents in the woods here. Their land is so poor it won't raise nnich but buckwheat; so the people live on it so much, they get that name." Uncle Charley acted as if rather ashamed of having used it. "We are Buckwheats, then," said Fred. " Our land at home is as poor as this, and we eat lots of buckwheat; and I like it, too. And I don't care if you call me a Buckwheat." They now arranged that Arthur should go up the creek, where the wells were pumping, and uncle Charley go over the river, a;id each find out all he could .ibout the wells- there. Then they were to meet and compare notes, and see if the wells in the two localities re- sembled each other. They went. By questioning the owners and drillers of the different wells they learned what those men knew. In nearly all the shanties, or in the engine-houses adjoining the wells, or else in the offices of the owners of the wells, were preserved specimens of the different kinds of rocks found in each well. They asked for little specimens of these to compare with similar ones from all the other wells. When they had collected all these facts and specimens they brought them together. It turned out as uncle Charley had suspected : these wells, six miles apart, separated by a mountain, were almost exactly alike There- fore they concluded that they could find good wells all along the line, or belt, six miles be- tween these developments. They were so well satisfied of it that they determined to put down a well. So they went to the house of the man who owned the farm they wa ited to lease. It was an old log- house. The spaces between the logs were filled with sticks and mud. The timbers of I 4 * r the wcll» ul these up A th, and np- /m eil through, ^k V are nil on IG ire, nil this jy ect line be- Nt md will be r? cts it now." kk P E T R O L I A . <^ \y cheaply, hiir. ur own tig- know aiiy- :le. " what are , "that's a the farmers Their land l)uckwheat; icy get that 3 if rather said Fred, his, and we t, too. And heat." should go 3 pumping, r, a;id each veils- there, pare notes, icalities re- owners and ley learned rly all the i adjoining the owners lens of the each well. 3f these to .11 the other bc facts and gether. It suspected : rated by a ke There- d find good ix miles be- t that they they went :d the farm in old log- 1 logs were timbers of Prospf.cting. the roof prnifcfoil sevoral foot from tlu' sido of the hou'-c. ;uicl wiro loo>ely lovori'il willi slabs to make a ■•veraiula" in front of the hou>L'. The hinges and latch of the one door to the housf were wood. Numerous hats and garments were stutfeil in the broken panes of the small windows. They stepped on the loose boards that formed the tloor of the ve- randa, and knocked. A grutf voice from witliin pronounced the single word, — •• Walk'." Not understanding this ren'ark. and in un- certainty as to ti.e t^r^t knock having been heard, they tapped louder on the door. " Walk ! " this time louder and grutTer than before. They opened the door and entered. The owner of the farm was eating his dinner, llis wife and two boys had apparently dined be- fore; for he was seated alone at the table. The single room below was roughlv finished and furnished. A fireplace in one end. and a ladder in the other, where the boys went up to bed through a hole in the loose tloor above, attracted the visitors' attention. The meal sp'-ead before the farmer consisted of one dish. That was fat pork swimming in its own grease. There was no bread, butter. ' potatoe: nothing but that one di>h. The fanner scraped tlu' entire contents of the dish Of his phite. anu ite it. ! He was a iliin, dark-complexioned, un- I comb, 1, cideilv man. Ilis boots were not mates. He nore no vesi. : his suspenders were a coniponiid of tow-string and leather. One of them had a sort of buckle, the tongue to which was gone. In place of it he I stuck u shingle-nail through the sti'ap, to j hold it. When he wanted to take a hitch in his suspender he would move the nail up one , hole. I'nde Charley comn-.^nced negotiation bv asking the farmer how much land he owned. 1 " Wal. I consider tnere's dus ontew two hundred and sixty acres on't," replied he. " Do you think any of it will ever be oil territory.'" asked uncle Charlev. " Reckon not. How could ile git up so fur's this.' Guess we'll alwus be scace nn't for ile up here." , " Wouldn't you like to let some one test your land for oil. if it cosi; you nothing.'" " Dunno but I mout. if he didn't git too near the house, and spile my yard." His ■' yard " was a patch of weeds in which several long-legged, long-ftosed pigs, and two 66 PETROLIA. or three tliin calves and a multitude of geese pastured. " Well," said uncle Charley, " I don't know as there is a foot of oil on youv farm ; but thej are finding oil in a good man\' queer places now, and no one knows but we might happen to strike a smell even up here. We've got a little money to thri^w away on an exper- iment, and if you've a mind to give us a lease, we'll sink a hole to venture. Vhat do vou say.'" The farmer bit a large piece off a big plug of tobacco, took out a huge jackknife, and commenced to whittle it the side of the house, and finally, turning to his wife, said, — "What d'ye say, old woman.? Woald you let 'em bore a hole in our land.'" The •' old woman " didn't like the idea. She said, — " 'S like's not the critters'll ,ie falling down the ile well, 'n gettin' drownded." At this, Fred, with a boy's irreverence and love of a joke, laughed, and said to Arthur, " he presumed tliey would if they were all as small as those out in the yard." The farmer did not hear this remark plainly; so he leaned forward, and looked at Fred, and said, — "Hay?" Fred looked confused, and made no answer to the interrogatory. Then the farmer said, bluntly, — " Youngsters should be seen, and not heerd." Ihen, resuming the subject, he said, — "I am afeard ye'll litter mj' farm all up; and if you strike one of them flowing veils, everything will be all daubed up with i e. I won't have the looks of my farm spiled in that way." These and many other similar objections uncle Charley talked out of the way, and at last got them to consent to make a lease. After this was done, he had still more objec- tions to overcr le, to get them to put into the '.ease an "option clause," by which the.' would give uncle Chavley the power to duj the farm at any time within a year. This was finally arranged by putting in the option clause with the price stated at one hundred dollars per acre, whidi uncle Charley should pay, if he decided to buy the land. The 'farmer said his land was worth, for farming purposes, about ten dollars per acre; and he j thought, when he put in the price at one hun- ' dred dollars per acre, he had got it so high there was no danger of these meddlesome Yankees ever paying that sum, and taking his j farm away from him, which calamity was the | thing he sought to avert. ip -afc . ,. Even then the old lady did not think they were entirely safe from scheming strangers seeking to pay them ten times the value of their land. She '■ was afeard they'd be shunted clean out o' house and hum." So she insisted they should leave out of the con- tract their house and barn (a low shed), and five acres of land, which could noc be sold. To please her the contract was so drawn. It took two or three days' negotiation to talk them into the agreement and get the pa- pers signed. They immediate'y let the con- tract to have the well drilled. They employed a surveyor to run a line directly from the biggest wells on the river to the best ones on the creek. He marked the line by "blazing" the trees that grew upon it. "Blazing "was done by cutting a chip out of one side of a tree with an axe. While running this line through a ravine on the farm they had leased, they discovered a coal mine. This gave them cheap fuel to run their engine with. Other wells were supplied by hauling coal up the mountain from the river— a tedious and cost- ly business. All indications were favorable, as the well went down. In about three months they had gone down nine hundred feet, and the flow of gas and " show " of oil from the second sand was large; fio much so, that they felt sure of success. The old farmer did not shaie their hopes. He came occasionally to see iiow they were getting along, and to tell them they "couldn't find nothin'." Uncle Charley instructed the boys and the drillers not to try to persuade the farmer into hopefulness of success. They rather took the same despondent view of it that he did. Mean- time, uncle Charley was carefully talking him around to completing the sale of the land. In fact, the old farmer was so sceptical as to the oil prospects of his land, that he consent- ed, before the well war; down, to sell the whole (^except five acres and his house and ■• barn ") for seventy dollars an acre, and thought he had a good bargain at that. While this negotiation was in progress the work of drilling had stopped. The drillers announced that the tools were fast in the well, one thousand feet down, and spent several days working over it. As soon as the sale was made, the drillers succeeded in bringing out the tools. Uncle Charley was there when the tools were drawn, and the men told him there v.ere " five hundred feet of oil in the hole; " by which they meant the well had already filled with oil to that depth. r ■ o;» the well. By laying steam-pipes from the big boiler to the diffTent engines, an abundant supply of steam to run them all was furnished. As the gas cost nothing, there was no expense in making steam. Nearly as many people came to see this new contrivance, as if it were another big strike. Of course they all asked, " Who was the smart chap that thought of that?" When the boy Fred was pointed out as the inventor, peo- ple were still more surprised. The engineer got some paint, and lettered the big boiler, — Fred's Patent Heating Apparatus. He intended the "patent" part of it for a joke; but half the visitors believed it was a patent; and one sharp man tried to buy the right to use it for all the Oil Country. Fred frankly told him it was no patent, and any one could use it without fee. The drillers told Fred he was a fool; that he ought to have sold the man the right, if he was green enough to buy it. " No," said uncle Charley, who overheard the remark; "Fred was right, morally and legally. It would have been both dishonest and illegal to sell a fictitious right. It would have been fraud, and Fred would have gotten into trouble if he had done it. So you men, that are ridiculing Fred for not cheating, are really the foolish ones — not he. I'd advise you never to try to live by your wits dishonestly. You'd soon play out for want of capital." The men looked rather cheap and crest-fall- en at being thus reproved for lack of both honor and brains. The new wells proved to be all good ones; one of them flowed one hundred barrels per day when first struck, and finally settled down to pumping seventy-five steadily. Operators now were willing to pay as high as a five thousand dollar bonus for a lease. Thus the decision of the owners of the Arthur Belt to develop the. own territory proved a wise one. \ { PETROLIA. 6^ Tliev were soon getting so much oil that they had to provide a pipe line to pipe it to the railroad for shipment. A pipe company wanted to lay this line ("or them ; but they de- cided, as in the matter of developing the farm, to do their own business, — or. as uncle Char- ley expressed it, to •• run their own machine." They had capital enough to construct the pipe line, tanks, and shipping-range at the rail- road, and had already steam enough, free of cost, to operate the force-pump to send the oil over to the shipping-range. So they con- structed the pipe line, and thereafter it cost them nothing to ship their oil. They presently built a neat house for an of- fice of their extcmsive business and a residence. Artluir wrote home for his sister Nell v to come and manage the house for them, promising her a half interest in a good well for her sal- ary as housekeeper. Nelly came, and made a very happy home for them, and a handsome little purse for herself: for both her brothers and uncle insisted on sharing their good for- tune with her. They now had on the Arthur Tract a \ery complete petroleum farm. With the land and all the wells belonging to them • an abundant production of greasy wealth ; the almost cer- tain promise of more, whenever they pleased to bore more wells; a well-systematized, care- fully and economically managed business; a transportation line also belonging to them, arranged conveniently to throw oil from any well on to the oil cars three miles away, at any moment, — they had the snuggest estab- lishment, and the best prospect of great wealth of any firm in the Oil Regions. Besides, they had a very pleasant home in the mountains. Home comfort is a thing much lacking in petroleum life. They fitted their house up elegantly, as became young oil princes. Pleasant grounds were enclosed and beautified; abundant springs from the moun- tains above supplied them with fountains and fish ponds, which Fred took pains to have abundantly stocked with trout. The wild, ro- mantic scenery, pure air and water, added to the pleasure of all this wealth and comfort, as well as contrasted with it. Artluir, Fred, and Nelly were now so happy and prosperous that they only lacked the com- pany of their parents and little Lulu to make their contentment complete. After much per- suasion. — by mail. — the family was finally induced to sell the Massachusetts farm, and remove to the Oil Regions. Each one, Ar- thur's father included, was given certain dutie.s to do. Mr. Sears, being a good mechanic, was given charge of all the engines and boilers, and other machinery on the farm. It kept him pretty busy to see them all kept in order. One of the numerous wells they sank pro- duced no oil, but it did send forth prodigious volumes of gas. It came out with a pressure that roared like steam, and could with diffi- culty be controlled. Mr. Sears thought this powerful pressure could be used to . filled with hu^'e piles ol boards; r.-id 111 the latter part ol winter a new set of men and teams was hired to draw the luinher to the creek. •• We bhall be raltin;^' to-morrow," haid Mr. Norton, one cvenin;;, ■• and if vou boys wish to see the work, com.' ddwii with some of the teams in the morning.' '• What lime do the teams i,'o.' " iisked Sam. "The first load-^ l;o at four o'clock. But you can eat hieakfast. and come down on some of the second loads." The bovs were up carlv in the morniii;;, and, eatini; a l)reakra--t ol buckwheat cakes and mince pie. hasteiuil to the mill-yard. Here was a busy scene. Teams were com- ini,' and Jioini; at all times. The men upon the board-piles were kept busy shoviiv^ off the boards upon the sleds, wliich were backed up to the piles. They ^raspeil a board at the op- posite ciul from the sled, and, wilh a twitch, sent it upon the load, where it was ipiickly put in place bv the loader. The loads were built nearlv five leet hi!];h and five broad, each load ci>iit;iiniii;{ over two thousand feet of boards. When the loail was finisheti, it was bound on with chains, aiul a binding-pole, twisted throu'^h Ihe forward chain, was bent down and fa-tened behind. The horses were imn'iedialely whipped into a trot, and the hui.;e load swayed from side to side over therouLrh roail. sleds creaked, drivers hallooed, and the vacant place was immedi- ately filled by another sled. The bovs mounted one of the loads, ami seated themselves on the boards. The greater part of the road was slightly desceniling. so that the horses did not pull in the lea^t, and were constantly trotting. Where the road went through a gutter, or uji a small i)iteh, the horses were put into a gallop, aiul the im|ie- tus carried them over it. At the foot of one of thr--e hillocks was a sluice, where the water ran Ihroii^h, and over which a few boards had been jilaced. The^e liad been worn smooth by the continual pass- ing of teams, and made a jump in the road. '• Take care of \<)ursclves now." shouted the driver, as he started Ihc horses vlown the pitch. "There is a jump at the bottom here." I'.t instead of jumping, the last sled struck the boards, shoved them ahead, lan against the opposite side of the sluice, aiul stuck fa^t. 'I'he horses had gained such force in the run that they snapped the double whillletree hke a conl, and ihagged the ilriver oil' the front of the load. He alighted iijx)!! hi-, feel. howe\er. and tpiickly stopped them. Sam had been sitting on the ed^ie of the 'oad. with his feet hanging olV. and the sudden shock threw him heail liist into a snow-bank, where only his leet were visible. He was quii'ixly dragged from this position by ihe lace. The whillletree was so wide that when the clevises were fixed in place they could not slip oil" the enils. •• That is rough work, hut better tlian to waste halt' an hour in going alter a nicer one." When the ijoys arrived at the creek, they found a scene as lively as the one in the inill- ynril. The boards were unloaded on the bank of the creek, wliere men were busily engaged in placing them on the rafts. A raft had just been begun, and the bovs went down to the edge of the water to watch the work. A large iiuniber of odd-looking sticks were lyinj about the bank, fashioned like a ciiilgel, abo.it three feet long, and with a large knob at the end. Lawrie asked one of the men if they were shillalehs. '•■\'esl a raftsman's shillaleh." he re|)lied ; "but they go by the name oi' i^rnihx here. We use them in the place of nails and bolts, to hold the rafts together." "^Vllat are they made of.'" " Oak saplings. We cut olf the top of the sapling ahout three feet from the ground, and then cut and grub them — tliat gives th'eni their name — out of the giounil, leaving a large piece of the root on. to form a shoulder or head. The stem is trimmed down to fit an inch hole. " But Iiow do you use them .' " (pieried Law- tie, determined to tr.ice the grub through all its changes. " Watch us begin this raft, and you will see their first use." Three planks had been laid down, parallel to each other and eight feet apart, vihile they were talking. Each plank had three holes in it, one at each end and one in the middle. Through each bole the raftsmen fixed a grub, with the head under the plank, forming a square of three rows of grubs each way. 'J'he planks were fastened together with three boards, bored with holes like the planks, for the insertion of the grubs. 'I'hese were laid across the planks, a board to each row of grubs, and thus the bottom of the forward part of the raft, or the first platlbrm, as the raftsmen call it, was made. 'I'liis platform was pushed into the water, and another one commenced by inserting the grub^ at the end on shore into the end holes of three other planks, and these were connected together by boards the same as before. This made a ratt tUirty-two feet long and sixteen wide, or two platforms. Three more iilatforms were added to these, forming a raft nearly eighty feel long, some of the length being taken up in lapping • Then just run to the lower raUs .iiul >;et us an axe the ends ol the I'lanks together. As fast as a platform had been laid, the men pushed the raft farther into the water, and now it stretched far down the stream, looking like a huge lad- der with cross-boards every eight feel. The raftsmen now began to lay hoanls across the ))lanks. to form the first tier or bottom of the raft, commencing with the last platform niaile. •• Now they're filling u|i the space between the rounds of the big ladder," saiil Sam. " Won't it be a nobby place to run on when they get it laiil clear through.'" '• Are you good on the run? " asked one of the men. J 74 AMONG THE RAFTS.MKN ! " Ye«, sir," replied Sam. " Then jii^t nm to the h)wer raft', ami i;et us an axe." Sam lookei! ilisroneerled at their puttim; his runiiitii,' ]>()wers to use, hut started oil' when the men added that, — " Bovs must be useful as well as seen." Wlien the hoards had been laid to the ciid of the first platlbrm, three more boards were put on the j;iul)>, two at each side and one in thi' luithlle, and ilirectly over the planks first laid down. Thus the lirst tier of hoards was iaiti iietween the planks below and the hoards above. The space between these boards was '.ow filled u]), the boarils bein;.^ laid directly ii-i-f s the tier ol' hoards below, and thus al- tc ly with each tier and )>lalforni. Whci. five or six tiers hail been hiiil in this manner across the whole of the raft, the men proceeiled to straii,'liten it. for each iiarticular lilalforni had taken its own course, turning upon the j,'rubs as if thev were pivots. To do this, boards about twent\-threc feet long were used. Holes had been made in these as in the other boariU. ami thev were juit on from the middle grub on one platform to the opposite one on the next iilatfonn. The end of each board was lapped f>n the eml> of the middle grubs; ami this combination throughout the whole raft brought the side^- into a perfectly straight line. The straighten- ing boards were then taken otV. and the work of laving the tiers resumed. From eighteen to twenty tiers form a raft. When a rat't was finished and tied to the bank with cables, they hung the oars. Clare and Lawrie were look- ing for the oars as the men spoke of hanging them. " Can't I get them for you.'" asked Lawrie, willing to help, and thinking they were on the bank, "Well, yes." said the foreman, Mr. Ames. " You will find them iust beyond the boards, on the bank. Bring them down here, and I'll give you a cent. You other boys may help him." Clare started, but Sam only grinned, as if in expectation of some fun. The boys could see no oars when they reached the place indicated. There were onlv some long poles, with big lioards pinned to the eiuN. and which Claie said looked like lihertv poles with guide-boards nailed at the larger enils, " We can't find them," shouted Clare, "There they are. Pick them up and come on." said Mr. Ames, coming up, and pointing to the long sticks. The bovs looked at him in astonishment. " Those big sticks oars ? " "^'es; but you don't seem to think you can lift them." " We didn't eat an over-large dinner, and don't feel very stout ; so I gnes> we won't trv it," said Lawrie. laughing. "Well, take iiold, men, and carrv a coupl«. down to the raft." The men lilted the oars upon their shoul- ders, and placed one at each end of the raft. Oar-pins were then fixed in the raft for the oars to swing on, and a large hole was bored in the oar to fit it. The oar-stem was nearly forty feet long, eight inches in diameter at the large end. where the paddle-board was fixed, and "There they are ; just pick ilitiii up .mii Luriie along." tapering down to a handle at the other end. The paddle was a board six feet long and two inches wide pinned on the large end of the oar-stem. Hanging the oars consisted in pla- cing them upon the pins; and when this was done, the raft was completed, except its cargo. The boys wondered how the oars could pull the raft along when at the ends. •• Docs the raft go sidewise.' " they asked of Mr. Ames. " O. no. We let it float down with the cur- rent, and only use the oars to keep it in the stream. They are just the same as rudders to a ship." he replied. " You'll make raftsmen some d.iy," said Mr. f! AMONG THE RAKTSMEX. /.•) link vou can iliiiniT. aiul ivc won't trv vr\ a couple their -.lioul- of the raft. t for tlie oars bored in the nearly forty at tlie larne ,s fixed, and ume alung." ! other end. ng and two end of the stcd in pla- on this was jU its cargo. s could pull ey asked of ith the cur- p it in the i rudders to y," said Mr. .\inf>-, as they were going lionie that night; •• and a good, healthy life it is, too. A sick raftsman is as rare as a June snow-bank." •• But it is all on account of the exercise anil early rising." saiil an olil man, who had run the rlvt-r for years, and was the pilot of the rafts. •' Scholars in schools can be as healthy if they would only work :i little each morning. Laziness is as much a disease as lever, and kills more men." '• There won't be no chance to-morrow lor laziness," said Mr. Ames. '■ If the wind speaks true, we'll have a storm before morning. If a rain-storm comes and takes olV the snow, there'll be such a tlood as we haven't seen for vear>." "The tret'K is rising." '• If it docs rain," said the pilot, " you bovs better drop down and see us. It will be a sight you'll never f,)rget," The boys promised they would, for they saw the old pilot took an interest in them, as such rough men do in all boys who do not put themselves forward too much. •• I guess exercise does make an appetite," sail! Sam. while eating supper. ■• It gives the victuals a good relish, at least." ■• I should think so by your eating," said Clare. " Well, I should like to eat enough to carry those oars to-morrow," laughed .Sam. Sleep came cpiickly to the boys' eyelids that night, for the long day's work had made them tired; but Clare said, as he lay down, that it was worth a tlay's hard work to have such a pleasant feeling <>'.' rest. Lawrie was - -.v ikencd in the nij^ht l,v a shouting, and >.|. ging out of bed, he heard the rain fallin.' «.. the root, and saw the gleam of lanterns in . yanl. (ioing to a wiruiow, he heard a man calling to his uncle, who soon appeared. "The creek i> rising,' shouted the man, whom Lawrie recogni/ed as Mr. Ames, ■•and wc must go for the rafts if we expect to save anything." " Mow long has the rain been falling.' " "Nearly six hours, and steadily, too. The gutters and roads are full ol water, anil the creek will be over banks before morning." Lawrie awoke the boys, and, hastilv dress- ing, ran down stairs to the kitchen, which was full of men. " Let me go with you. uncle," said he to Mr. Noiton, who was putting on his oil-cloth overcoat. '•Whew.' What are you out at this time of night for.' And here are the other bovs. Why, you'd get tlrownih'd if you went; the rain itself would carry you otV." " Let them go," said the \oice of the old pilot. '-Boys won't be easy at home when there's anything exciting going on; and I'll warrant they'll take care of themselves." ■•Well, get on ;our overcoats, and take a bite of something to eat, while we bring out the horses. Ihit you nnistn't lie getting in the way," said Mr. .Vorton. The boys promised they would not, and were ready to go as soon as the horses were at the door. 76 amonj tfie raftsmen. Thk Boys takk a Bath. Page 79. AMONG THE RAFTSMEN. BV FRANK H. TAVLOR. II - RAPTINO. TT was iaiiiiri<; furiously, and tiie rush of J- waters could be distinctly heard in the •woods, sounding like the rumbling of cars. It was so dark that nothing could be seen be- vond the liglit of the lanterns which the men carried. The feet of the horses splashed in water at every step, and at times the wagon would drop into a sluice nearly to the box. •where a bridge had been swept away. The boys were greatly excited with the romantic scene, and only hoped the water would rise higher. " It will be high enough, my lads." said the pilot. " The rain itself would be sufficient to raise the creek; but you see there is snow enough on the ground to make as much water as has fallen. Where you saw the large banks of snow yesterday, there won"t be enough left to make a snow-ball by morning I remember a flood we liad two years ago, when the snow was no deeper than now, and in six hours from the time it coinmenced raining the creek was ovi-rnow!!ig its banks. '• A small brook, which was dry the greater part of the year, rose so suddenly that it car- ried away the larger portion of a village on its banks, and one whole family was -drownded. The stores and churches were moved into the middle of the streets. One church floated against a hotel, moved it from its place, and stopped on its walls, while the hotel went down the stream.* The creek was full of liav, grain, and luniber for days afterwards, and some people made a rich harvest by gathering them. " But see," he exclaimed, as they came to a jilace where the road ran on the edge of the creek, ''it is full hanks already;" and he swung his lantern out towards the water. The boys could see the black, turbid water rushing along, boiling and foaming, and now and then splashing up into the road where they were riding. Its surface was covered with pieces of boards, floating trees, and chips; and the rafts were stretching the cables far down the stream. " We niu-t sent! the horses back immedi- ately," saiil Mr. Norton, springing from the wagon, '• or the water will catch them." The men alighted, and the horses were sent home. " Now, work with a will, men." said Mr. Nortor, " for we will have all we can do to save our lumber before the water comes up." A lact. AMUNC; Till-: RAFTSMEN. 77 .1 villaLje on its was -tirownded. moved into the church floated its place, and he hotel wont was full of hav, nfferwards, and ^t bv gathering s thev came to ;he edge of the adv ; " and lie the water. k, turbid water ning, and now he road where as covered with es, and chips; the cables far back immedi- iging from the h them." jrses were sent len," >aid Mr. we can do to er comes up." He called the liovs to him. atui uave tliem the light- to l.o.,l. '• Follow the n."n." said he. Large piles ot' boards were still unrafted. and were in danger of lloating down the cieek as soon as t lie wale !• s ho 11 I reach tliem. Some ol' the raits wen- not C()ni|)leteil. •• riie-e mii-l be fmishetl first, " saiil Mr.* Norton. •• I, .IV hold of the board-, ami we'll beat the water vel. ' The men rapiillv tran-lerred the boariis tVom the piles to the raits, each one working with a will. When one Her of boards had been laid the whole length of a platform, another was commenced bv other men, to be followed Building the fire. bv another; and thus several tiers were being laid all at once, one set of men following quiekly after another, and each striving to get their platform on to the heels of those ahead. Bets were freely made among them ; and oft- times the forward nen were but a board ahead as the platform behind them was finished. The boys caught the excitement, and wi-hed to help on the rafts. "Build a fire," said Mr. Norton, "to light us by, and we'll give you work." They placed the lanterns where ^\\^^ men could see, and commenced gathering materi- als for tlie fue. Pieces of boards lay all about, which they quickly collected into a huge pile; sha\ings were whittled, and a light applied. The wooii was wet, and the fire sputtered and snapped in the ruin, which was still falling; but some pitch-pine knots were soon in a blaze, and the fire leaped up lhroiiL;h the ilarkness. The boys felt the sublimity of the scene, as the huge fire sent its glare far dut over the waters, lighting up aliii.)st to the lowest rait, revealing the rough fornix of the raflsnien moving swiftly about, the rus|iin;r waters swav- ing the rafts to and fro, and throwing deep shadows just beyond its liuthest limits. All the boards bad now l,een carried upon the completed lalts, which were drawn up be- side the others, and Mr. Norton called the boys to. push the boards from tli, piles to the raltsiiieii. The rafts were so near each other that the boys had only to swing the boards around, by balancing them acr()ss the pile, so that the lal'tsincn could grasp tlie end and pull it to them. .\t la-t only one raft was left uncompleted, ami all hands were at work on it. "Why. it is growing darker," said Sam. "Our tire is going out. We'll go and fix it up. " " It's the water." said Clare ; ■• don't \ou see, it is putting the fire out.' Uncle, the water is rising! " " So it is!"saiil he, as he saw the waves about the fire. •• It is rising fast, (jet the lanterns." " We left them by the lire," said Sam. "They're in the water before now." "We'll be left in the dark, then. Here, get into this boat, and see if you can find them. It will be a pretty fix if we have no light." There were a number of boats tiei' to the raft-, and the boys sprang into one of them. They could all row well for their age; so Mr. Norton did not fear to trust them with the boat. The fire was fast dying out, only the higher sticks burning, and every moment some of these were falling into the water. The boys rowed the boat to where they thought the lan- terns had been left, and Lawrie. reaching over the stern, attempted to find them. He could not touch bottom. " Hand me a stick," said he; " the water is too deep." Splash went another brand into the water. "Come, hustle," said Sam, "or we won't have enough light to sec to tip over by, in a moment." Lawrie felt around on the bottom, but could touch nothing. "The boat is drifting away," said Clare; " give it a push." Sam dipi 1 his oars, and one of them struck something metallic. n 7X AMONG THE RAFTSMEN. " Tliere'fi one," i>ni()()n iiroiimeil. "Now wi'U put extra cables to the rafts, and wait until nuirning. U will be daylight in half an hour." Cables were lastene.l to the :;rul)s on the rafts, the end )nit into a bo.it and carried to trees on the bank, w here they were made fast. Some of the lafts were tied to each otlier, side by side, and all were brought up close to- gether. The boys made a rou'^li siielter of boards on one of the rafts, and lying down under it on some oil-cloths, listened to the falling rain and rushing waters. "Wouldn't mother be scared if she knew ■where we were now ?" said Clare. "I guess she is thinking of us," rejilied Lawrie. '' More likely dreaming of you at this time of night," said Sam. " Isn't it splendid, though.' It reads like a book. Here comes the old pilot." " We're going to ha\e a big one." said he. kitting down under the boards. "The whole creek will be a lake before night, and you boyii can make some spending money by latching hnnber to-da\. There will be thousands of feet come down the cieek from the mills above." "This will be a spleiuliil tiii\e to start down the creek — won't it.'" asked Lawrie. " Not nun li. If we started now, we'd be more likely to land in the middle of some meadow than at Cincinnati. The wind and current would carry us out of the creek and into the woods, in spite of the men." "When will you start?" " When the cieek begins to tall. You see, while it is rising, the currents rim from the creek, and when it is falling, the water turns and runs towards it. So theie will be no dif- t'lcultv in keeping a raft in tin centre of the btream while tiie water is tailing." " How long will the water stay up.'" "I have seen it over the Hats four weeks; but this freshet will probably subside in less time, as it has arisen >o rapidly. I think we may start in two weeks." " Won't it be jolly.' L'ncle has said we ni.ay go with him, and aunt is going too." "Yes; ladies go down the river very often now, but I've sien the tlay when such a thing would be thought impossible, iiiit women lio help to make the trip more pleasant, and it keeps the men in mind of their own wives. Ihit now we'll >ee how the water looks." The boys had been l_v iiig tlown. w ith their heails covereil. anil w hen Ihey roused up, they saw it was quite light. The men were out in boats, fixing the rafts, and making new tying- , daces, or catching boards and logs that were lloating down the stream. To the surprise of the boys. i>othing could he seen of the road, and onlv '.n opening through the trees showed where it was. The stream, which was only a few roils wide the night before, was now stretch- ing half a mile on each side, and still rising. They could see that the siiow was nearly gone from the hills, only a few snow-banks bei'-; visible. It was still ra'uing slowly. The water looked black and muddy, and large cakes of ice and creek rubbish were being borne out from the stream by the current which settled landwaid. " Ilere comes some timber," shmited one of the men; and looking up the creek, the hoys saw a mass of boards floating down. They were lying in every imaginable posi- tion, jiiled one on another, sticking out l;..im the sides, aiul mixed with branches of trees and old rubbish. .Some of the boards had dropped oil", and were floating around it. AMONG THE RAFTiJMLN, 79 '■ 'I'lif wliole , aiui \<)u l)(iv« •y hy catcliiiii; tlioiisatulK (>r mil till' mills to >lait ilown wrii.'. now, we'll be ililie of some .'lii; wiiiil ami lie crock and icn." ill. You see, run liom tlic water tuin>> rill bo no dil- coiUrc ot' the ■ lip?" < lour weeks; il)-iili' in loss 1 tiiiiik we i said we inav on." ,er vorv oltcn Mich a thing int women do sant, and it own wives. lo()k>." 1. with their i~ed U|), thev were out in 'I new tyiiii;- gs that were e surprise of of the road, rees showed 1 was only a now stretch- still risiii!^, nearly itone banks bei'! The water cakes of ice out from the d landward. )iited one of L'k, the boy.s vt\. inable posi- 1!,' out li..itn les of trees lioarils had und it. •*: "Jump into this lioat, bovs," said the pilot, "and we will help l)rin>{ it in." The pilot threw some rope* into tlie bo.it, and followed the other men. The lumber was iettini; in towards the land, and was some dis- tanie Iroin the bed of the creik. .\s thcv aji- proached. it looked like a pile of l)oarils whiih had been well " stacked," but had been t'"-n to pieces coniiiijf down the creek. "Take the end o the rope, and jump on the boards," said the pilot to Sam and Lawrie. who sal in the bowol the boat, as they touched the pile. " Now hitch it to some of the boards." The boys made an opening in the top anionj.!; the loose boards, and found a jjlank near the middle, to which they ticii the rope. The otlier boatb did the ounie. "The jiilot pullcil liiiii iiiio ilii; bo.ii. '' "We'll stay on here." said th" boys whc.T the ropes had been hitched to rini^s in the boat. "We can ride here wi.'ll enough, and see to the ropes." "Take care, then." said the pilot, as the boats started. The pile dipped and pitched like a ship at sea as the boats pulled it aloni;; aid the boys found it was not easy to keep tlie;i balance. The bottom boards woul sometimes touch the fjround, and swing the piie around with a jerk, nearly throwini; th':iii otf. As they neared the rafts, the limbs of an olii tree which lay in the water cau','lit in ;! ,• cracks at the bottom, and the next moment the pile se;>- arated. The boys stood near the middle, and the ropes jerked the lioards from under them so i|uick. that they were llat on their backs. They ea;;erly chitclied the boards as they fell, and. clingiiii; to tiiem, were thrown into the water. I'he boards pnxented their sinkiiiL;, howeyer; and as soon as their friijht was oyer, they ilrew themselves upon them. They liad fallen in the middle of the pile, wliere it separated, and they climbed U|)nii the two separate ])ortions, where they sat lauijhing at each other, with little streams of water running; hom their clothes. '•Coi.ic here and help me," shouted ISam to the pilot, "or I'll slide olV ai,'ain." The pile on which he sat was constantly falling; to pieces; and before the boat could reach him, they slid again, carrying him with them. Rut he clung to the boards, and the pilot pulled him into the boat, dripping from lieail to foot. The pile on which Lawrie sat swung clear of the tree, and floated against the rafts, where he sprang otf. Tlie boys shook themselves, let the water run from their boots, and chased each other around th_' rafts until thev were warm. •• Yon won't catch cold if you keep moving," vaid the pilot, "nor feel any hurt from the ducking. " Nor did they. The boards had been fastened to the raft by passing a long cable around them, and more nniber was caught. The pilot liad gone in another boat with 'he men, leaving his boat lied to the raft. " Say we catch some timber on our own look," said Lawrie. after they had exercised some time. "I'll do it." said Sam. " Here, Clare, you get in the stern of the boat to catch it, and Lawrie and I will row. Yonder are some shingles; we'll bring them in." The shingles were lloating on the opposite side of the creek, and had escaped l'.\e notice of the men until they were now nearly against the ratts. The boys jiulled for thc;n ; but the current was so strong, they were not reached until far below. There v,ere ten large bunches of the shingles tloating iii a jiile. The boat was backed uji, and Clare threw the rope around them, fastening it to the ring in the s<.crn. " N'.>v. we'll pull up this side of the creek, where tl.o current is not very strong," said Lawr;j. 'Then we can come down with it, and it w, 1 save us much hard pulling." Tliey managed this so well, that they soon landed their loud at the rafts, and started Ho AMONG THE RAFTSMEN. after another. So well di'l they work, that their "cat.iiings " soon formeii a lar." iVoin up the lumber, aiui to the lioys, re tlie hoys ixy pay them said he. U. \Vc will lit tliey are dollar each u; tenth for ollars." lie a two-ckillar X^ Is that al. )OVS. low shall licli has no irgain with re you half ■incinnati." r. Norton, 1 tolil Mr. Her. (.1 he, as he I ? f AMONG THE RAFTSMEN. 8i Fall oi" thk IJkiui;i;. I'age 84. AMONG THE RAFTSMEN. BY FRANK It. T.\Y' .ilot, Brown, who, besides acting as a hand, was to pilot the raft. The other was an Irishman, a raw fellow, who had never been d( a the river. The other rafts were being co:i])Ied together, two and two, one behind the other, making a ten-platforin piece. They were fastened to- getl er with boards put over the grubs frini one raft to another, in the same way as tlvi plvitforms had been attached to each other. In the middle of this raft, known as a '■ crc'k piece," the shingles and lumber were piled in rows, leaving plenty of room on the ends and sides for the men to work and exercise. "We have an unequal number of rafts," said Mr. Norton, one day, "and if you boys wish to go into a heavier trade, you may couple it on to yours." " We'll do it." said they, " if you'll let us 6 have it on the same terms as you did the other one." "That will he putting too much money in your own pockets, you young sclieniers," laughed he. '' I have more shingles, how- ever, than I can carry on my rafts handily, and if you will take enough of them to make your loail amount to a hundred thousand, and carrv them free of charge, you may run the raft upon the same terms as the oth.-r." " .Ml right," said they. '• It will only require two men for the ten- I latform piece, as only two oars are needed, one at each end." The piece was loadetl with eighty thousand shingles in ipiarter bunches, and floated down to their piece, to which it was coupled. The shingles were then arranged near the middle of the raft, and the boys made a little house out of loose boards upon the top of the pile. Here they could lie while the raft floated along, and enjoy the ride. The tide currents had now begun to set in towards Mie river, and the water was rapidly falling. '• We must get ready to start to-night." said Mr. Norton, when the water had fallen to full banks. " Mother will go with the wagon that carries the jirovisions to Warren, and all will be taken on board there." 82 AMONG THE RAFTSMEN. it " Why don't they get on here? " asked Sam. "Running the creek is too dangerous, and we might lose all cf our provisions for the trip between here ana Warren." " How lonj; will it take us to go there?" " If we start to-night, we shall i.rrive at Warren to-rr.orrow night, provided nothing happens." " What! do we run at night? " said the hoys. "O, 3'es. Rafts usually start at dark, so as to gain time, and run the dangers of the lowes' part of the creel: by daylight." The wagons were loaded with new cables and ropes, md drawn to the rafts. The boys provided themselves with rubber coats and blankets to protc" 'hemselvts from the night air. Thehandsv. . .collected upon thrjr rafts, bustling a'niit, trying the oars, and arranging cables, and liie pilots were shouting their or- ders, and all were making ready for the start. A large number of rafts from farther up the creek were continually passing while they were at work, the men exchanging banterings, bets, and jokes with each other, nome betting on the speed of their rnfts, and that they would make the quickest trip, and others that their rafts would sell for thn most. "Your raft will run as fast as any of them," said Joe Brown, the pilot. " How can you tell?" asked the boys. "Because it is heavily loaded. The hcrivi- est raft runs the fastest, as it sinks deeper in the water, and presents more surface for the water to press against." " Isn't it about time we were starting? " said the boys. "Let some of the otheT rafts go first, and we will put our piece in behind Mr. Norton's." The rafts now began to pull out, and came floating along by them. Mr. Norton was on the head one, and called to the boys to cast otf as he went by. " Stand by to throw off the cables I " shout- ed the pilot. "Let us boys do it," shouted Laurie ; and he leaped upon the bank, followed closely by Sum. " Stand to your oar, there, Pheelim," said the pilot. " Hfie I is," said Pheelim, grasping the forward oar. "Untie the cable." The boys loosened and threw it upon the raft, and leaped on after it. " Pull to the right," said the pilot to Phee- iim, at the same time beginning to pull o;'. the 8tern oar. The oar was carried around to the left, with the oar-stem close to the raft, then suddenly raised to a level with the head. This is called "dipping the oar." and it is quite a trick to be able to dip it successfully the first time. The oarsman walks in the direction the raft is being pulled, pushing the oar before hi.n. When not in use, the oar is raised from the water. " Now, then, all together," said the pilot. The raft moved slowly from the bank, and floated down the stream, the two oarsmen pull- ing steadily until it reached the middle of the current. The boys climbed upon the shingles, and stood looking up and down the river, quietly enjoying the prospect. As far as they could see, both up and down, the stream seemed to be covered with rafts, many of them being side by "-ide, and some three abreast, where they were running by each other. It was beginning to get dark, and a few of the rafts were making preparations to " lie up " for the night. "There'll be a ';cattering rmong these be- fore morning." said the pilot. " Our rafts will keep ahead, because they are heavier loaded than those up the creek; but we've got to look out for them ahead of us." The boys sat down in their " shanty," as Pheelim calfed it, and watched the old pilot steer the raft. They could hear the barn-yard sounds as they passed along by the houses on the bank, the shouts of the pilots up and down the stream, the sounds of the men ringing out upon the air, and echoed back from the shore, and tl.e muskrats plunging into the water as they passed alone;. The rafts began to sepa- rate, and run farther apart, until the boys could see none of the others; but they could tell by their shouts in which direction they were. " What is that? " said Clare, as they heard several sounds coming from down the creek, sounding as if somebody had struck upon loose wood. " I don't know. There's another," said Sam, as the sound was repeated up the creek. "I'll ask the pilot," said Laurie. He went forward to ask him, when he saw him strike several blows upon his our-stem, ard then shouted, — " Pull to the left!" " What did you pound on the oar-6tem for ? " asked Laurie. " To find out how to steer " said the pilot. "Well, that's queer!" said Clare. "How did you do it by the blows?" " I told it by the echo. Just listen, now." He struck several blows, and in a few mo- AMONG THE RAFTSMEN. 83 en suddenly id. This is it is quite a jil>' the first direction the 5 oar before 1 raised fron the pUot. le b.ink, and iirsmen pull- liddle of the the shingles, n the river, s fiir as they tlie stream lany of them iree abreast, ;h other. It a few of the to " lie up" rig these be- 3ur rafts will avier loaded ■e got to look ' shanty," as ;he old pilot le barn-yard !ie houses on up and down 1 ringing out m the shore, the water as gan to scpa- til the boys It they could irection they s they heard vn the creek, struck upon r," said Sam, creek. ;vhen he saw lis oar-stem, ir-stem for ? " d the pilot, lare. " How iten, now." in a few mo- ments the echoes could be heard upon the shore. •• Which echo did you hear first?" "The one from the right bank," said the boys. "That shows we are nearer that bank than the other. Pull to the left, Pheelim ! " He then struck another blow, the echoes coming back almost at the same time. " Now we are about in the middle." " I've got some lanterns on board. Shall we light them?" said Clare. "Yes; we'll pass under a bridge pretty quick, and it will help us a little to have them on the forward end." The boys placed the lanterns at the two for- ward corners, and sat down beside them. They did not throw the light but a little way, but they served as a warning to rafts that might be in their course. "These are like the head-lights to an en- gine," said Sam. "I wish I had a horn to blow, and we'd make believe 'twas a train of cars." "We mustn't go to playing such little things," said Laurie. "Remember we're owners of this raft, and not little boys." " Well, we can play we're little boys. I've seen old people play as if they were little boys," said Clare. "Pull to the right! Keep off! We're aground!" some one shouted out of the darkness below them. "There's some one aground below us!" shouted Laurie. "Keep a watch for them, and let me know their position," said the pilot. " Be careful, and don't smash us, Mr. Pilot," said Pheelim. " Remember I'm ahead, and in the principal part of danger." " Pshaw ! We won't smash. 'Tend to your business." "They're on the left bank," said Laurie. "They're on the bar," said the pilot. "I know the way now. Pull to the right, Phee- lim." The forward end of the raft swung out from the left bank, and they glided within a few feet of the raft aground. " Help us off! " shouted the pilot, from the raft. " All right. Throw us a cable. Here, boys, come and help." The boys ran to the side of the raft, and caught the cable which was Uirown on board. They then fastened it to the raft, so as to give considerable >lack. " Now, pull to the right hand, Pheelim," said the pilot. "Take care that the cahle don't slip off, boys, and we'll drag them clear from the bank." The pilot upon the other raft now ordered his men to pull. The cable straightened out, and the raft began to slip, and finally swung around into the current. The boys cast off the cable, which was drawn in by the others, who sent r.fter them a " much obleeged." " How do you suppose they got stuck there?" asked Laurie. " Because their pilot did not understand the drift of the current, I presume. It runs pret- ty rapid towards the bar, and then turns off short; and a raft following the course of the current will run the forward end upon the bar, just as it is turning, and then swing around broadside upon it. But I guess we must be getting near the bridge." He struck upon the oar. and the echoes came back from the banks nearly together, and in a few seconds another echo was heard below. "That's the bridge," said the pilot. "Go forward and watch for it. We want to steer for the middle arch. The current will carry us towards the right pier. Let us run within two or three rods of it, and then give orders to pull to the left. You give the orders, Laurie." "All right, "said Laurie, going forward, with a smile of satisfaction at the trust reposed in him. He could see the dark mass of the bridge below them stretching across the stream. It was impossible for him to distinguish the piers, however, until they were quite close. He then saw that they were headed directly for the right pier, and that if they went on in the same way the raft would be struck by it almost in the centre. He excitedly yelled, — "Pull to the left! Pull to the left! We're right on it." The pilot saw they Avere running too close, and shouted to Pheelim to throw it up to the left. They pulled hard, but the current car- ried them swiftly down, and directly to.vards the pier. " Pull, pull ! " shouted Laurie. " We'll hit it, any way." The pilot ran to the forward oar to help Pheelim, sending the boys to his oar. with di- rections to pull to the left. This double force upon the forward oar had the effect to swing the raft around faster; but they had run too close to clear it. A brace ran down into the water from the arch, and presented an inclined plane to all rafts coming down the creek. The corner of the raft struck this with a force which almost threw the boys from their feet, 84 aMONG THE RAFTSMEN. and shook the bridge until the timbers rattled. But it slid up the brace until it had swuny around far enough to drop off, and then shot swiftly under the bridge, grazing the piens as it went. "That shave was too close for comfort," said the pilot. '• That's what Pat Finncgan said when the barber almost shaved his nose off," observed Pat. who had been too scared for action. " It made nie think of my share of the profits," said Sain. " Did vou ever stave on ;i bridge?" he asked the pilot. " Only once," he replied. '• The bridge was just below a rapid, and it was a bad place to steer. There were two of us on the raft, besides a dog, and I was pulling the for- ward oar. The piers of the bridge were simply wooden posts, with no braces in them, as this bridge has. Our raft was heavily loaded, and it went through the rapids like a race-horse. The fellow behind became a little excited, and pulled the wrong way; ami we struck one of the piers kind o' cornerwise. and knocked it out quicker'n a tlash. I saw it falling, and made a rush for the other end. The raft went through, and struck the next pier, and then in a moment the briilge fell rig'^t "cross the rat., cracking the boards and smashing the forward end all to pieces. We jumped into the waLer, and swam ashore, leaving the raft to care tVn- itself." " What became of the dog.'" asko • o ^e of the boys. " Ho was caught uudcr the bridge and killed on nearly the ■.;... spot where I stood; we found him tuiiic ^^!lt■ .; we cleared off the raft." '• How di:i I'ou r'.... the raft after it was smashed.'" at^iied the boys. "We had to raft it over again; you'll see plenty of such work before you reach Cin- cinnati." The boys now lay down under their shantv, and covering themselves with their overcoats, slept soundly until near moTing, when they were awakened by the pilot. "We're in a pretty muss now," said he; " shake yourselves, and come out here." The boys were a little stilT after sleeping on the hard boards, but they quickly roused up, and gave themselves a shaking, which was all their dressing. It was nearly an hour before daylight, and pitchy dark. Their lanterns had been lost when they struck the bridge, and they had no mate- rials for making a light. " What makes the raft act so queer.'" said Sam. " Why, I believe it's whirling around," said Clare. •• It actually is," said Laurie. ••What's tlie matter. Brown.'" No one says Mr. on the river. " We're in the Duck Pond," said he. '•'I'he Duck Pond.'" queried Lauri--. "What's tha'.'" '• It's a big eddy; just here, where tb.; creek is wider than anywiiere else. I'd ought to have known better than to get into it ; but there has been a boom across it to keep rafts out tor a long lime, but it was carried asvay a short time ago by a t'reshet, and I had forgotten it. I never thought a thing 'bout it till we were in too fur to get oiit." "That's what Pat Finncgan said when the barber almost shaved his nose off." " How large is it.' " asked the boys. " We go around a circle of about ten rods. You can see the tops of the hills where they come against the sky, and tell when we make a circle." The boys sat down and watched the peaks as they came against the hori/on. '• There's one we saw before." said Clare. "Where is that peak. Brown.'" "It is one of the AUeghenies, and is almost in the direction we wish to go." " Well, this is getting monotonous," said Sam. "Can't you pull out.'" "No; the current is too strong. We might Vi around," said ? " No one in the Duck rifd Lauri'.-. lere tbj creek I'd ought to !) it ; but there p rafts out tor asva}- a short forgotten it. ill we were in m le barber almost boys. out ten rods. Is uhere they rhen wo make hed the peaks ," said Clare. and is almost itonous," said g. Wc might 1 AMONG THE RAFTSMEN. 85 pull all day, and not get beyond the cur- rent." " How will we get out, then.'" asked he. " Throw a rope to some of the passing rafts, and let them pull us out. Some rafts st.^y in here all day, before'another comes along to help iheni out. A couple of drunken men were caught in here once with a skill". They rowetl around here the whole night, supposing all the while they were going farther down the creek. A house stood on the bank then, and there was a dance in it that night; and the men said, when they were found the next morning, that it was the greatest place for dancing on this creek they ever saw, for they had rowed all night, and there had been dan- cing in every house they passed." "We're in a pretty muss now ; sh.i out liere." ) ourselves, and come " How far from the eddy is the main stream.'" asked Laurie. "About a rope's th v, from where tlie rafts run." " How long before there'll be a raft by?" "It can't be a great while, for none have passed since we have been in here, and we passed some just before we went under tlie bridge, You boys can watch while I take a nap." The pilot lay down on the raft, under some boards, with nothing but a coat aroimd him, and was soon mingling his -.1, ores with those of Pheelim, who hail been a^-.eeji some time. "Now, boys," said Laurie, "there's no use in waking the pilot up when a rr.ft comes along. We ha\ 2 been watching things pretty close, and I believe we can manage the raft." " I don't believe we can pull the oars," said Sam. " Yes, we can ; don't you know Brown .sent us to the b.ick oar to pull when we went under the bridge.' " " But suppose we get the raft stuck on some place or stone.'" said Clare. " Well, It's our own lumber, and it will be our own loss." "Yes; but I don't like the idea oflosing our lumber. Just think of the money we'll have to take home, if we go through all right," said Clare. "Well, we can t.y it," said Sam; "and if we see anythin',' going wrong, we'll wake up Brown." It was nov/ nearly d.-iylight, and the boys could distinguish objects on the shore. They saw that the eddy was a large pond, looking as if cut out oi the side of the Cieek by the force of the water, and forming a large circle, which at times carried the raft so near the bank that they could alinost leaj> to lani'. A farm- house stood not far from the bank, and they could ;'ear the farm boys in the cow-yard, and the occfipar.i.s scii ring about the house. " I Wish I could ','et some milk to drink," said Clare, " for I begin to feel htingry." " W'l i;ot jump off, and bay s jii.iji^iing at thi't farm-hou: c' '' aid Laurie. ' I be:(Ove I cjiild leap ashore if you boys wo !(! ;iui] the nift around a ii'tle, where it CO' so nei.r !hat point," said Clare. ' . ry it,'" said Laurie. "You can got us somt cakes and cheese, and we can make u good bieakfa-rt; but you had better hurry before a raft comes along." Sam and Lai;rie pulled the forward end of the raft as ni^ar the shore as possible, and Clare, taking a little run, sprang upon the land. " A'l right 1 " said he. " I'll be back in a few momei.:s." He found the farmer's wife busily engaged in getting breakfast. Everything looked neat and honn - like about the house, and the woman showed signs of education and refinement. He told hor his errand, and she generously loaded liin with cakes, and cut a huge piece of cheese from a large one which lay on a table. She refused the pa\' which Clan; of- fered her, and gave him :\ glass of the new milk which the farm b^ys brought in. He hoatened to the rafi, and showed the boys hiu ioad. i : 86 AMONG THE RA^^TSMEN. "She refused all pay," said Clare, "and said we were welcome." " Well, that was a generous act," said £am, "and I think I am able to appreciate it," tak- ing a large bite of the cakes. The boys enjoyed their lunch, and had just finished it as a raft came in sight around a bend, followed by several others. They fixed the cable to be thrown. " Give us a lift.'" said Laurie, as the first raft came opposite. " Yes ; throw your cable." Laurie threw the cable as far as he could, but it fell short. '■ You'll have to wait for the next raft," shouted the raftsmen. Laurie drew the cable in, and again made ready for a throw. The next raft came oppo site just as he was on the outmost circle, anu there was but a short distance intervening", but by an unlucky kink in the rope, it fell short again. LaurTc began to tliink he had made a mis- take in not calling the pilot ; but he determined to try it once more. " Here's a smaller rope," said Sam, " per- haps you can do something with it." " I could if 1 had a block," said Laurie. " How will this do.'" said Clare, picking up a piece of a grub, ..i.^t haii been left %n the raft. "That's what I want." He tied the end of the small rope to the block, and the other end to the cable, .\nother rafi had now come opposit. them, and Laurie picked upthe small rope, and swung the block around in a circle, as boys do when they tlirow stones with a ding. Then, letting go with a hard swinjr, he sent the block upon the other raft. By means of the small rope the cable was drawn to the raft, and fastened, and then the boys began to pull, Laurie taking the forward oar, and th-.- others tjie rear one. "Do you boys run that raft!" asked the men. "Yes J we own it," said Laurie. "We've heard of you. You pulled us oflf from the bar last night, and so we return the compliment. Where's your pilot.'" " He's asleep, and .ve're going to run the raft until he wakes up." "You better be careful, or you'll run it into the ground." "O, we can follow you; and the pilot said it was jjood running below here." The raft had now readied the main current, and the cable was cast ofl' and drawn in. "Now, boys," said Laurie, "I'll be pilot, and you must obey me, every wcjid, or we may get aground." The boys soon found that their raft ran faster than the other, and that they were gaining on them. " What will you do if this raft runs into the other.'" asked Clare. "I don't know," .5aid Laurie, looking puz- zled, as he saw the distance between the two rafts swiftly diminishing. Just below them was a sharp bend in the creek, and as the forward raft turned this, the boys, running their raft too near the shore, struck against the corner of it with a force which nearly started the boards, and awoke the two sleepers. Clare anc". the Farmer's Wife. " Where are we.'" said the pilot, as he saw the raft was not in the Duck Pond, where he went to sleep. "Going on our own hook," said Laurie, a little crest-fallen, " Pull off there! " shouted the pilot of the forward raft. "You are pushing us agaiiivf the bank." The boys' raft, striking the corner of the other, was pushing it across the creek in spite of the ef^'orts of the men, and there was dan- ger of staving on the shore. "Take the forward oar, Pheelim," said (lie pilot, seeing the difficulty at a glance. " Throw I L -J f i %v<}rci. or we leir rait ran it thov were runs into tlie looking puz- veen tl^o two bend in the ned this, the ir the sliore, with a force , and awoke m ii£L- it, as he saw Pond, where ^id Laurie, a pilot of tho X us ai{aiii--t orner of the :reek in s|iite ;re was dan- m," said the ice. "Throw AMONG THE RAFTSMEN. ^ it up to the right ; " at the same time he pulled the stern oar to the left. The other raft had now been pushed so near the opposite bank, that there was room for the bov'-' raft to run b_v. The pilot took advantage of thii opportunity-, and steering to the right through this opening, soon left the other raft behind. '•That was a bad fix," said the pilot. " I low did vou come down here, and in it? " The bovs told him their adventures, and how they got out of the Duck Pond. '•Well, that was a pretty ingenious way,- and you might have got out of this all right; but it was lucky I awoke, for there is a dam just below here to run, and you would never have got through it without staving." "Faitli, that was the greatest kick I ever had." "What kind of a thing is it?" asked Clare. " Why, it is a dam built across the creek to run a saw-mill. There are not so many here now, since they use steam, but they have them bv all the villages. Here it is, and plenty on it, to see us go through." The dam looked like a bridge without any railing from where the boys were, except tliat it was boarded up at each end for five or six feet above the water, and nearly across the stream, the only opening being in the middle, through which the rafts ran. Through this opening the water poured with a loud noise. There was no tall, however, the bottom of the dam being made by laying plank so as to ftjrm a long chute, and large timbers were placed for the sides, the whole looking not unlike the chutes, made by boys for their water-wheels. The force of the water, pouring through the chute forms a bar below the dam, on which the rafts are often stove or stuck. The dam was crowded with the village boys to see them run it, and there were a number of persons on the bank. The boys became greatly excited as they neared the dam, and were still more so when they saw the water foaming through the chute. The pilot steered directly for the opening, the raft running swifter and swifter as it approached it. " Now, take care of your oar, Pheelim," said the pilot, and '• don't let it be caught in the swirls, when the raft plunges below." The swirls are eddies formed by the raft, as it plunges into the water at the bottom of a chute, and which will sometimes break oars when caught in them. The raft slightly dipped as it went through the opening, and then, as it shot down the chute and dipped its forward end deep in the water belo v, it seemed to be covered with foam. The water flew high above their heads, and fell in thick spray upon the raft, almost wetting tlicin through. The boys upon the d;un yelled and hurrahed, and the people shook their handkerchiefs and cheered. But Phcclini, forgetting the advice of the pilot, or confused by the Hying water, let his oar drop into the swirls; and so quickly was it llung around, that lie was thrown into the water. The boy^ ran to the edge of the raft, and, as he rose, grasped hi> hands and helped him upon the raft. " Faith, that was the greatest kick I ever had," said he, blowing the water from his mouth and nose. •' That oar laped like a boss, and the next moment kicked, and I warn't where I was at all, but just somewhere else." The pilot and the boys laughed heartily at the ludircous figure he niadC; in spite of the danger he had been in. They had passed the bars 11 right, and in a little while they reached Pine grove, where they found Mr. Norton with the rafts. Here they tied up, and went on shore to find a pilot to take them tluough the rapids. mmnmM^^ I mi; -^ 88 AMONG THE RAFTSMEN. It is too late now," ckieu the Pilot, Page 9-:. AMONG THE RAFTSMEN. VBV FRANK H. TAYLOR. / rV.-BUNNrNG THE RAPIDS. '' I ""HE bank where the rafts were tied was •*■ covered with raftMiien when tlie bovs landed. The pilots and owners of the rafts stood b_v themselves, talkii-;^ of the market and lumber, wliile the vour.ger raftsmen formed a group b\ themselves, where they were testinjj the superiority of each other's muscle in box- ing and Wicstling. Most of these latter were young men of about eifi;hteen or twentv, living in neighboring towns on the head-waters of the creek. They had often met in these sports, at elections and town meetings, before, and now wished to gain more honors, or r-trieve lost ones, over their old rivals The boys strolled up to the group of young men to see the sport. A ring was formed by the spectators, and in this the actors were struggling. The "' best men " from two rival villages were matched against each other in a wrestle, which i> the favoritf sport of hoys d' men on the river. The excitement is intense as the wrestle proceeds, and now one and then the other seems to have the advantage; and when at last one gains the victory, he is cheered lustily by both friend and rival. Hut he must hokl his position as victor of the ring bv wrestles with the best man from each village repiesented among the rafts. The man who is victor in the last contest is termed " bully," his prowess is reported to the other rafts, and at each place of landing he will be called on in a wrestle. The hovs watched the sport until the pilot called to tliem, and said they must have a pilot to run the rapids. " Can't you run it.'" asked Laurie. "No; I have not been through them for some time; and it is best not to risk it," said the pilot. " Where can we find a pilot.'" asked Laurie. " Come with me, and I will shosv 3'ou," said the pilot. They walked down to the creek, and the pi- lot led them towards a group of men stand- ing there. " Get one of those," said he, " and we will start pretty soon, as we have rested long enough." " I'll attend to it," said Laurie, who had done most of the business since they started. As Laurie neared them he was struck by their strange appearance. They were dressed in poorer clothes than raftsmen usually wear; they wore moccasons, and there was a crin- ging appearance about them which Laurie did i AMONG THE RAFTSMEN. he ring bv !acli villaij;e J man who d "bully," r rafts, and s called on il the pilot lave a pilot 1 them for 5k it," said t find as if it wnx )inting to a se. pilot, "rii antiC in the ' We run it J Sam. t and knock e roots are and at tiie der. There turn out." lore than a •anched. It r feet, and The Indian \y ,t,'ave his ;. The raft it over, and I I? h bearing it down under the waters. Tlie bov-. could hear the branches scraping and scrateh- ing on tht bo'lom of the raft, a.-> it went un- der, and then it roiled up behind, coinpletolv loo.>ened from the earth. Mr. Norton was piloting the raft behind them, and as he saw the tree rise up within a few feet of him, he attempted to pass by pull- ing to one side. The tree caught upon a sand- bar, and wai rolled up by the force of the wa- ters until the branches and greater part of the trunk were out of water, while the roots were still submerged. In the attempt to pull the raft aside, it swung around, and caught broadside upon the tree near its middle, "Me save it." and the next moment it broke apart where the pieces were coupled together, throw- ing the lumber and sliingles into the creek. One of tlie pieces thus broken apart floated down in the direct channel, while the other stuck on the bar. Mr. Norton was upon the floating piece, and began to catch the lumber whicli had been thrown into tlie water, while those upon the bar commenced uiirafting, throwing the boards into the creek, to be floated down until they could be drawn ashore and rafted again. "What will father do with his raft,'" asked Sam. " Run it to Warren, and wait until the other piece is rafted. He can run it down with one oar, and a board for a ruddrr, said the pilot. They were now nearly through the rapids, and the boys were congratulating themselves upon the security of their rait. They were bitting upon the ^hiIigles talking of tli'.ir jdun-. when the raft struck a bar with a shuck that sent them, shingles and all, rolling ujion the raft. "What's up?" said Laurie, springing to his feet. "Stuck on a bar. I guess," said the pilot, "The raft has stopped entirely," said Sam, "and those other rafts will be running into us," " Maybe we can get it otf before they get here," said the pilot. " If it isn't on too hard we can pry it otr." '• This new one, never here bcfon ; but we get off," said the Indian, as he commenced |)ulling olf hi.', moccasons. '' Olf with your boots, Pheelim. — And you, boys, can help us," said the pilot. The boys undressed their feet, rolled up their trousers, and picked up some of the hand- spikes that had been put on board. The wa- ter was not o\cr two feet deep here; and the boys were soon beside the men in the water, " Suppose you couldn't pry the rait otf," said Sam ; '• what would you do then } " "Unra''t it, or. perhaps, only take the shin- gles olT, and make it lighter," " But some of the rafts would run into us by that time," said Clare, •• And maybe that would shove us oil",'' said the pilot. " Uut if the raft ging to take me on hoard?" '•It's too late now," »li»iited the pilot. Yo.ir father's raft will take \uu oil" in two minutes." " Milt I hhali drown ! " shouted .Sam. "Can't we net him?"askfil Clare and Lau- rie, who bewail to he afraid he might be drowned, altlioiif;h they h.id laughed when lliev tirsi saw him left on the bar. '• The water isn't deep erioui{h to drown him," said tlie pilot. "And you see his father's raft is already in sijjht, and will reach him before we eaii. — Stand where vou are, and you're all ri;{ht." he shouted to .Sam. '■ Well, I've heard of slilpwrecked sailors on islands before now, but I don't believe tlie island was under water. But the water is ktrowing cold, and theie is no earl lily place to repose here," said .Sam, as he retreated to the highest point of the bar, which was only two or three inches under water. Mr. Norton's single piece was now close to the bar, and Sam waded out as far as he couKl to reach it. "What does this mean? How came you here?" asked Mr. Norton, as he pulled Sam upon the raft. " Circumstances over which I had nc con- trol," saiil Sam, laughing at the thought of his ativenture. He then told Mr. Nort.jn of their accident, and how he happened to be left. " Well, your clothes are noi wet; so I guess you won't catch cold; but you had better wrap yourself up," said his father. Sam wrapped himself in his father's great- coat, and sittmg down upon the raft, soon felt as well as ever. The boys' raft reached Warren without any more accidents, and Sam found them o-i the raft waiting forhim. Mr. Norton immediatelv began coupling his rafts together, and making everything ready to start on the morrow. The rafts were built three pieces wide and twcntv- one long, with three bars at e.ich end. Near the centre of these rafts their house, or shantv. was built, consisting of a single room, and with wooden bunks on the sides, filled with straw, forsleeping-pUices. The shanties upon those rafts where there were ladies were divid- ed into two apartments. The boys made arrangements to couple Ihei.- rat't with some of Mr. Norton's; their own pilot was to run it. and Mr. Norton was to furnish the men for the whole raft. The boys were to run it as their own until there was a chance for a sale. 'I'lieir rait was soon couple. I, a shanty built, and everything reach for a ^tart. A large number of rafts had now come in, and they reported nearly a dozen rafts stove on the rapids. This statement was soon veri- fied by the lumber which came lloaling down the creek. The men were busy all that day catching their timber and rafting their broken rafts. The boys worked with the men, assisting any who needed help, aiul doing good ser\!cc in catching lumber. They became well known among the raftsmen as the boy lutnberers. They took their honors, however, quite coolly, although they talked it over at night before they went to sleep, anil told each other what they had heard the men say of them through the day. 'A ^ IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY. M580 (716) 872-4503 1 M b 1.0 I.I 11.25 [frilM IIM •^ IM 1 2.2 ^ i^ lllllio 1.4 1.8 1.6 ■ i 5^ b A % i M CIHM/ICMH Microfiche Series. CIHM/ICMH Collection de microfiches. Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / Institut Canadian de microreproductions historiques ^^i^it^.'i .■sis-^''*^* i^ ± AMONG THE RAFTSMEN. 93 Laurie anu Miss Coatks in riiii Watkr. Page you have larks on the river.' " "A lark is when we take a little walk on shore, to rest ourselves, and pick up atiy stray chickens or turkeys that we find wandering around, for fear they may lose their way, and wander olV and die." " I should think that was pretty near steal- ing," said Clare. " We don't call it so. It is only our mark of respect for the inhabitants. Why. vou see. they cheat us if we buy anything of them, and we take their I'owK to p.ay lor it." '■ But don't they e\er make a I'uss.'" asked Laurie. "What's the use.' They know that they have cheated us, and they expect we will try to be even with them. One fellow brought sonu' eggs on board to sell one ilay. as we were tied up near his place. We bought them ; there was nigh about twenty dozeai ; but when we come to cook them, there wasn't a dozen gc:od eggs in the whole lot. We pulled out that night, and took about half of his hen-roost vvitli us. — Breakfast's ready. Get your cups and plates, and take hold and help yourselves." The men now came in to their breakt'ast. with the exception of two or riirec who -leered the raft. Each took his plate of v jtuals and cup of coffee or tea. and ate his breakfast wherever he found it most convenient. Tlu' boys enjoyed this novel way of eating, and did not grumble about their victuals, althougli they were not cooked in the best style, and the coffee was deciiiedlv unsettled. y^ — ._- ./ — The hiivil Ijti.uiiKin. For miles below Warren the river ran be- tween high mountains, covered with wmuis and bushes. There wa- not nnuh of iutere t in these, save once when the boys saw two deer running around a spur of a hill. Finallv. oil derricks began to appear upon the bank of the river, where old oil wells had been drilled, which were now dry. Then Tidioute. with its many derricks and oil tanks, burst upon their view, " It's a dirty-looking hole," said Clare, as they passed the \ illage. " It looks as if it had been drownded in oil some day, and then repeopled," said Sam. " That is the general look of the oil regions," said the pilot. At dark they made preparations for tying up. AMONG THE RAFTSMEN. 95 One end of the caole was made fast to the raft, unit tlio other put into a boat and rowed asliore. A man tlien took the cable, and ran along the shore until became to a convenient tree, around which he tjave the cable two or three turns, and tlien hold to the end of it. When the ca- ble was straightened so that it began to slip, he unwound it, and ran to another tree. This was repeated several times, until the speed of tlic raft was slackened, and it was drawn ashore, where it was made fast hv cables. Several rafts came down and tied by the side of them during the night. The boys paid them a visit, and found, to their surprise, that Mr. and Mrs. Norton wore upon one of tliem. The cabin on this raft was furnished far better than their own, and was nearly as comfortable as their kitchen at home. i^f} --- The next morning they "lied loose." as the raftsmen sav, and were on their wav by day- light. "We had better slii-k up a little to-day," said the pilot. '" and put on our Sunday neat- ness." " Why so? 'Tisn't Sunday," said Clare. " I expect wc shall have visitors to-day," said the pilot. " \'isitors ! " said the bovs; " whom do uui expect?" '• Somebody usually gets on at Oil City for a pleasure ride down the Alleghany. Some- times a whole family, with several boys and girls, will ride with us ten or twelve miles, and then come back on the cars." Oil City was now in sight, and as they neared the large bridge which spans the river, they saw a boat pull out from the shore loaded with ladies and gentlemen. '• There are our visitors, I guess," said the pilot. •• Halloo I " shouted somebody from the boat ; '•will you take some passengers?" ••Yes," shouted the pilot ; '• come aboard." The boys saw there were several young la- dies of about their own age in the boat, and hastened into the cab'.i to make themselves more presentable. •• These are the owners of the raft." said the pilot, as the hoys came towards the place where he was talking with one of the visitors. The gentleman, whose name was Coates, was somewhat confused as the pilot introduced I them, and looked as if he expected some kind I of a joke. " I am very happy tf) mei?t you. young gen- tlemen," said he; •■ but i>n't that a little joke of the pilot's about your owning the raft?" '•No. sir," saitl Laurie, laughing; "we are owners of a part of the raft, ami the remain- der is under our command." "You are quite young for hnnbormcn." said the gentleman ; " but you seem to have been lucky so far. Allow me to introduce you to your other visitors." These were a lady, the wife of Mr. Coates, his son of sixteen, and his two ilaughters of about fourteen. The boys blushed very deeply as thev were introduced to the hulies as own- ers of the raft, and especially Laurie, who had been struck with the beauty of one of the young ladies. Laurie appointed himself a guide '.o show the visitors about the raft, and in his ex- planations soon fouMil himself separateil from the others, and strolling alioutwith the young ladv who had so much attracted him. Thev were now approaching the I'ranklin Bridge. Under this the water ran with great swiftness, and it was known as a bad place among the pilots. The pilot had not been as j watchful as usual, his attenlinn being attracted I bv the visitors, and tlie rait was in ilanger of ' striking against the |iier as they neared it, I?y ipiick pulling the forward end was swungeleur I of the pier, but they were not so successt'ul ' with the stern. It swung around and struck tlic -ide against tlie pier. Laurie and Miss Coates were standing u|)on the edge of the rait as it struck, too interested to notice their danger. So i|uick wa^ the shock that they i .; AMONG THE RAFTSMEN. 96 lo'.t their balance, and, in spite of their et- lorts, were tlirown into the water. Laurie grasped her as thev struck the water, and iiian- aijed to keep both lier and hinisell" above the surface. Tlicir crv for help as they sank had startled the men on the raft, and already two ropes had been thrown to him. One of these he yra^ped, and was speedily drawn on board with his I'aintinji burden. ■• .She must be carried ashore immediately," .said Mr. Coates, as he yrasped his daughter. '• Here! a boat — (pii.kl" The boat of the rait was brought to the side, and two of the raltsmen enlereii to row it. •• ICxcuse mc, Laurie." said Mr. Coates, as he was stepping into the bo... — •• excuse me. I lia.i forgotten, in tlie anxiety of the moineiit. even to thank you." '• .\nd I." said Mrs. Coates, extending her liaiul. "Accept my heartfelt thanks for your noble deed." "Why. I couldn't help it," said Laurie, Mushing as he took the ]>roirereii baml. and not knowing what else to say. " I was in. and of course it was natural to save her." '• And God bless you for it. I cannot ex- press mv gratitude now, but you shall hear iVoni nie again. Good by. good by." said Mr. Coates, as the boat shoved oil". '• Highly romantic, very well pertbrmed. and bliss and happiness must eventually tbilow." said .Sam, as Laurie sat in the cabin drying his clothes. '•There, please don't say any more," said Laurie. •• !>ut how does it feel to be in such a place.' Did you think you was a hero, and saving your liilure wile, as they lio in story books?" persisted Sam. '• (). shut up." said [..aurie. " Here comes a lellow to sell us something. I'll go and make a purchase." '• Look out. or the young rascal will cheat you." said the pilot, as Clare and Sam were bargaining with him. '•Here's a chicken; he can't cheat us on that," said Sam ; •• and th;'se eggs, too." ••You'd better try the eggs," said one of the hands. •• Vou may try 'em.'' said the seller. ••Yes, they're gooil," said Sim. "We'll take a couple do/en." The boys bought their provisions, and the boatman was |)ulliMg olV. when one of the men asked him if he had any whiskey. '• Yes," said he, producing. a bottle. The raftsmen drank nearly half the con- tent'-, a:ul llien declared it was not lit to be paid for, and t'>ld the boy never to come on board again. •• But 1 want my pay," said the boy. " Get out," said the raftsmen ; and he started uway. When several boat's lengths from the raft, he shouted, — '■ I guess \ou don't make much bv that bar- gain, if ^ou did get the whiskey. Hetter trv your chicken and eggs beiore x-ou cook 'em.' '■ That's some joke." said one of the men ; '• let's see your chicken." '•That ain't a chicken," said the pilot, as they produced theii' |Mncha-e. '• You're beat." "What is ii.= '" asked the bovs. Mdls on tliti Kuro|)eau Plan. " It looks more like an owl than anything else," said the pilot, •'and that's what 'tis. They've picked it clean as a chicken, and I don't woiuier you were fooled." The boys now tried their eggs, and found oidv one good in the two dozen. •• Well, that's a sell, sure," said they, a little discomfited at their trade. " ^Vell, we're about even," said Brad. '' He loi.t his whiskey, and you your money." They tied up that night in Miller's Eddy, and were soon surrounded with rafts. These were so thick that the bo-s could walk on them for some distance up and down the river. It looked like a little city of Irish s'lanties sud- denly spru'ig up on the water, each with its t AMONG THE RAFTSMEN, 97 little tjarden patch around it. A number of the ral't?> liad violins on boani, and the sound of tlie>e, joined witii the sonj,'s of tlie men and tlie gay hiugliter of the dilVerent parties, rang over the water. Tlie boys strolled among the rafts for some time, enjoying the romantie >cenes, and the wild songs and dances, wliich weri! joined in by the whole crew. The In- dians, of whom a large number weie among the rafts, added to the sport by their dances, many of which have desceiuL-d from their old war (lances, and are now only seen in this peaceful form. The boys had hardly fallen asleep that night when they w-re awakencii by the shouts of men and the snappingof cables. They rushed out, and saw that the rafts near them were in mo- tion, and drifting down the river. The men were \elling. pilots shouting oriiers, anil the whole scene was tlie wildest confusion. Their " You're beat." own raft was between several others, and was borne by them out into the river. " What does aM this mean.'" asked the boys all at once. " We've been broken loose by a timber raft." said the pilot, who was putting forth all his eflbrts to extricate the raft. The boys could see a large raft, built of heavy timbers, among the others, which was not there before, and this seemed to be crowding its w.ay through to the shore, breaking loose the other rafts, and crowding them aside. The men were pushing the rafts apart, and throwing off ca- bles fastened to their own. Several of the rafts went ashore, or were stove upon the rocks with wliich the eddy abounded. By skilful management the boys' raft was got clear of the others, and they started out into the dark- ness down the river. •• Aren't you going to land.'" asked Sam. •■ No, I dare not try it; it would be too dan- gerous," said the pilot. •• Where did that raft come from that broke us loose.'" asked Laurie. ••From up the Alleghany. It is built of solid timbers, and is heavier than ours. I've seen 'em do the same thing before — run into a lot of rafts to stop themselves, and break 'em loose. It's mighty dangerous running in the night, and we may expect to stave any min- ute ; but may be we'll be lucky enough to get through." The men stood at their oars' all night, onlv now anil then catching a nap in the intervals of pulling. Several times they were on the point of staving on a rock which could not be seen in the darkness, and they did not escajie without several bard bumps. When the boys awoke in the morning, they saw the river had widened, and that the bank was lined with cultivated fields and white cot- tages. Far down the river they saw a lieavv cloud of smoke rising, and s|)reading out like a pall. The boys asked the pilot what it was. •"It's the smoke in I'ittsburg. That's the blackest city in the United States. They have so many furnaces and iron works that they keep a perfect cloud of smoke over the city, and fill the air with coal dust." Soon the piers of the bridges were in sight, seeming a perfect network, through which the boys thought it impossible to run. Hut the pilot understood the current, and they were soon through the bridges. The raft ran six or seven miles below the city before it found a place to tie up, so tbic!. were the rafts. The raftsmen went to sleep, and the boys went up to I'ittsburg. by a steamboat, where Laurie found a letter for liim, winch he very carefully kept from the boys. But they said it was postmarked Franklin, and they believed it was in a feminine handwriting. I I ^B s» AMONG THE RAFTSMEN. I i i . ■ , 'I'm; I'LKSLiT AMONG THE KAITSMEN. BY Fl» \NK H. TAYLOR. VI. -FC JO — CONCLUSION. AT Pittsburg the rafts were again coupled, two of tlie Alleglieny pieces making one on the Oiiio. Tlie boys, liowever, did not couple their raft. They had concluded to run it single, as it was as safe, and there were none of Mr. Norton's to which they could couple it. New Iiands were hired to take the place (if tliosc who were to return for another trip, fresh provisions were put on board, and the next morning the boys pulled out. On the broad Ohio the ir.en found it casv work to run the raft, and reclined lazilv at the oars. The boys either lay upon the boarils in the warm sunshine, or strolled about the raft, watching the passing steamboats. ''What would happen if we should run into one of those steamboats?" said Laurie. ■•We should have to help the passengers out of the water, I'm thinking," said the pilot. "I should think they would be more apt to help us out," said Sam. " O, no ! They are very careful to keep out of our way. If a raft, or flat-boat, as they call it, should strike one of those steamers, it would crush in its side as if 'twas a. scow. You'll find that everything on the river keeps out of the way of a raft." The boys found that river life grew monot- onous upon the Ohio, as they floated idly along each day. There was none of the dangers and sudilen mishaps which thcv had met on the Allegheny, hut pleasant weather and only a little work. The men grew irrita- ble, and wished for something to turn u]>, no matter wiiat it was ; even a smash-up would be preferable to this listlessness ; anything that would cause a disturbance and make a little excitement. '•This is fearful dull." said the man who was nicknamed I5rad, as they tieil up one night. They rarely tied up at night; but as it was more dangerous than usual below them that night, they had concluded not to run. "I wish something might happen," continued r>rad ; " even a fight would be a luxury." " Well, s'pose'n we stir up something," saic' his mate at the oar. •' What do vou sav to a raid to-ii lit.'" said Brad. "Good! be a jolly night for it. Darker'n pitch, and the wind blowing loud enough to drown all noises." AMONG THE RAFTSMEN 99 iteaniers, it IS :i. m;o\v. ivci" kuops w iiiotiot- ;iteil icily tie of tlie tlu'v had t wtatlior L'w inita- rii 11)), no won ill be thing tliat ■kc a little man who li up Oll'J It; but as clow th(jni ;o run. '■ I continued ;urv." line k:iu1 ;ht?" said Darker'n enough to i "What's a raid?" risked Sam, who, with I the other boys, was sittint; by tliem. "It's what I explained to you once as a lark." said IJrad; "a little walk on sliori.' after eatables, you know. We call it by any name that happens to come easy. They call us raiders, ami so we say, when .ijoin;; out. that it is a raid." •• S'pose we _<;o to-iiit;ht." said the other raftsmen. ".Ml rii,'ht. Don't let none of the other men know it. and we'll diif out about mid- nii;lit. Mow would you boys like to go.'" said lirad, turniui; to them. " I'll S"'" ''■'''1 •*'am. who was ready for anv- thinij. ■• I'll see what the pilot sa^s." said Laurie. " If he thinks it's all n-ht. I'l'l -o." "Tell him not to let it out to the other men." said Hrad, as the boys started to speak to the pilot. "Yes, go on," sai l>ruise>. I'll bet you don't catch nie in another such scrape right otV." Laurie soon heard the pursuers returning, ami hid himself behind a fence. He heard enough of their conversation, as they passed, to learn that they had not caught any of the party. After they had passed, Laurie came out o( his hiding-phue. ami trudged on again, j stumbling through the darkness, and wishing he was safe on the raft. " Halloo ! " suildenly shouted some one close beside him. " Halloo, yourself! " shouted Laurie in re- turn. " Is that you. Laurie .' " said the voice, which he now recognized as belonging to Ham. "Yes; how came you iiere, Sam? Where is the rest of the party.'" "They've gone on to the raft. I got so '.ired, I couldn't run any longer, and Brad told me to crawl into these bushes, and stay around here until morning, when they would come back. I saw those fellows who were after us. They came down here, and turned around, and went back." '• When did you miss me.'" "About half a mile back. We reckoned you had hid somewhere to rest, ami then when I heard you coming along '.alking to vi ursclf, I knew it was you, and so I haileil." "We can't find the raft to-night; so we had better find a place to sleep, and stay here until morning." "We passed an old barn a few rods back. We'd better go there and find a sleeping- jilace." The boys soon found the barn, and crawled inside through a window. " Here's hay," said Sam ; " we can have as good a sleeping-place here as we could on our bunks of straw." " What shall I do with this chicken to keep it safe until morning.'"' I * A AM()N(; Tin: KAFTSMKN. loi i "LctitKo; we've Iiiid tr()ul)lo fH()iiL,'h wMi chickens." Liiurio threw tlie cliiiken out ot'tlio wiiuiow. The hoys then hurrowed into the liiiv, and were soon fast asleep. Tliev awoke tlie next mornin;^ at li to sell your lumber?" asked one of the tjentlemen, as the boys walked to- wards them. " Ves, sir," said Laurie. "What IS your price.'" " We ask twenty-eiijlit dollars a thousand." "You are rather liiijh, 1 Tear." "No, sir; I think that is the usual price." "I will give you twenty-seven and a half." "No, sir; we have no lumber to sell at that price," replied Laurie, firmly. " I'll give you a quarter more." "No use; our price is twenty-eight dollars." " You can't beat them down," said one t)f the gentlemen, who was pleased with Laurie's firm answers. when they found that each had the sum of one hundred anil eighty dollars. This was an enorinous sum in the eyes of boys fourteen \ears old, and they had the pleasure of know- ing that they had earned it by their own ell'orts. The boys, having finished their business in the lumber trade, starteil for home, Clare and 1-aurie returning home with .Sam. Alter stay- ing here a few days, they returned to their own home, where their parents hardly knew the two brown boys as the same that had left them in the winter. The boys invested their money where it is constantly increasing, and they talk of return- ing to the lumber trade in the spring. Clare s.nys Laurie has a correspondent in the Oil Regions, and Laurie does not deny it. .Should the boys enter into another speculation, you may, perlK\p>, hear from our young raltsmen again. .1 i'liLxhii uneasy The bargain was finally made, ami tne money paiil. Mr. Norton had sold the other part of the raft; so the hands all landed, and made prepa- rations to return home. The money had been paid to the boys, who hardly knew what to tlo with so much. They paid Mr. Norton his lialf. paid off their men, and divided the remainder anong themselves. the Mim of ['Ins was an _vs fourteen re of know- tlicir own business in -•, Clare and Alter stav- ned to their lardly knew lat had left V wliere it is !k of return- ring. Clare in the Oil ■ it. Should ulatioii. vou li" raftsmen Wir- -^ -<';■??• L"^^ ;«. * ;. - ''-n ^!^« v'"^ i' 1 i' ■ • im^\ j ) 1 '•: CAMP IN THE ouLcn. '^? 'Tlii: ri.ttta shot forward, and settled on tliu aiiim.il'9 hums THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. I —THE MARCH -THE CAMP. -THE LECTURE-COUKSE. IIV H STIN DALE. ARIZONA, as a word, has hecome almost synonymous with ilisri/. In .speakiwt; of a barren lanil, if we sIidiiUI sav it was an Arizona., there eoulcl hardly be a nioie aecu- rate idea of a desert, whicli was not ahsohitcly a desert, ion\eyetl. For. with its tantjleil maze of almost unfatliomable chasms ami gorges, so little penetrated by civilized mrjn ; its endless lines of massive clifl's ; its diaboli- cal natives; iis desolate wastes of sand and rocks, combined with its hurninij sun and great scarcity of water, — Arizona is, truly, not a realm where the tourist would spend his leisure moments, nor the farmer build his humble cabin. Hence we find that hitherto it has presented few attractions to any hut the inquisitive explorer or tlie eaijer prospector. It was my good luck, at a certain period, to stumble through portions of these very wilds, connected with a band of the former class of those itinerant spirits who first break path- ways into the unknown regions of our globe, who prepare the way for the subsequent intro- duction of civilization. We were not exactly, I at the time of which I write, breaking a pathway, as we followed a trail that had al- ready been tra\elleil a number of times by uuf frontier friends, the Mormons, on their way I to and from the seven ancient cities. ! Neither was the sun, this autumn d.ay, very familiar. Indiid. he was so distant in his manners, wiilulrawing liehind the fleeting clouds so frequently, that we really would have thought the stories of his great power in this section unfounded, had we not, at an earlier day, had sutVicient proof of his strength. In consetpienee of his reticent mood, you arc satisfied, when you catch your first view of our little train, that none of its members are sulTering with the noonday heat. To speak more plainly, the day was chill and disagree- able, file time wc were making would not have been envied by a !"*exter nor by a Gold- smith Maid, as our pack animals, being laden rather heavilv. were more disposed to wander from the trail, and, with a half-famished air. snatch up the bunch-grass tliat giew in abun- dance alongside, than to make any e.\traordi- nary exertions to get over the ground. Prob- ably tliey felt that a distention of the stomach was more agreeable to travel on than the vague feeling of nothingness which must be produced by the continual aggravation of a heavy pack and a tight siiic/ie. We could not •i* t ■ " r 104 THE CAMP IN TIIL GULCH. blaiiie them for stealinjf .1 mouthful of the sweet grass now and then; but, not having hpd anytliing ourselves to eat since earlv morn- ing, we were anxious to arrive 'ir- quickly as possible It the anticipated House Rock Gulcii, where we were to find plenty of wholesome water, and an abundance of fuel with which to prepare our evening meal. To aliow. therefore, the jaded brutes to pick along at their leisure, was not the w.iy to end our day's journey and fill our empty stom- achs; so, in true western style, we held forth an occ.-sional exhortation to the wayward, accompanied by a whack from a good stout stick; and the train was kept moving at about a three-mile {-ait, while some camp-kettles whicli had been too loosely tied to " old Dick's " pitck, kept up a clang-clang, clang- ciang, with si.ch a precise regularity, that it must have astonished the old white plug him- self, even though he had pranced over moun- tain and valley, in his pre>ent capacity, .'iince he was introduced from Spain by Escalante. Loading the .inimals. Silen"e reigned supreme, only, once in a grea' while, when the train was halted to al- low a pack to be tixed." This readjustment sometimes — yes, generall\ — was the entire repacking of the animal: and, in order that you may understand how this packing is done, in regions where it is the only w.iy of freight- ing pr xticable. I will devote a few words to teach you. In the first place, of course, we must have the animal (not always necessarily a quadru- ped, but sometimesan aboriginal biped, though the load is differently applied to these latter), be it horse or mule, and, if your " citvoose" is a " broncho " (wild, unbroken), the utmost care must be exercised to keep bevond the reach of his fantastic movements. Several times on this day had a broncho tossed a couple of packers r.ither roughly amonj' the sage-brush; but each time they had recovered themselves immediately, and returned to their work. Having selected your pack-animal, you want ' a pack-saddle. (See illustration.) This gener- ally has a breeching to it. and sometimes a breast-strap, to prevent the slippingof the [lack on heavy grades. I...' '-is a.9/«c//(; (illustr.i- tion), made of hair or canvas, which is att^.ched to the saddle by adjuttable straps, that com- pletes the circuit of the horse, and holds the saddle firmly in its place. On the back of the animal is put a blanket, and on this the saddle is placed, almost in the middle of the back. If you are acquainted with saddling a horse in the " .States," vou know that the saddle is placed high up on the withers, and tlie girth drawn close to the fore- legs — the English style; hiird on the horse, and hard on the rider, on successive long days' joui.ieys. "Out west." however, as I have said, the saddle is put fairl_\ (jn the hack, and the fhichc — not girth — drawn over the middle of the belly. Thus, as long as. the sinche is kept tight, the danger of galling the back by long rides, or heavy packs, is almost wholly avoided. AVhen your piuk-saddle, then, is in its piop- I cr positif)n. you must draw the sinche up so tight thr.r, were it done in New York, Mr. iifrgli won''' I e instanti)' after you. with the I wl ole outfit of T. S. F. T. P. O. C. T. A. I Til's tight sinching is absolutely necessary, I for. tiiough a little cruel, upon it depends the preservation of your horse's back. Upon the saddle the pack is hung in various ways by various persons, and over it is thrown a blanket or a piece of canvas. Then the " lash-rope " — at one end of which is a sinche similar to the one on the saddle, but supplied with a large wooden hook — is applied. This is done in a number of ways, but the one gen- erally adopted is that known as the '• miner's diamond." or "diamond hitch," receiving its name from the fact that when the lashing is ron ileted. a part of the rope forms a diamond on . op of the pack. The rope in position, and everything ready, it is " lightened up" after this manner. One packer on the "off" side places his foot against the brute's ribs, beneath the pack, and draws up on the portion of the rope running through the hook, while the one on the " nigh" side hauls in the slack over the top. The rope is then passed round the corners, pulled and tightened until the pack seems part of the horse, and, to conclude, the end is firmly se- \ THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. J05 rxther roughly ach time they lediately, and mal,you want ' .) Thisgener- 1 sometimes a intjof the iiack !Hc/ii: (illustr.i- icli is att^.ched ips, that com- and holds the put a blanket, almost in the re acquainted ' States," you igh lip on the ise to the fore- on the horse, iive long (lays' er, as I iiave the hack, and ver the middle the sinche is ^ the back by ilmost wholly is in its piop- sinche up so :\v York. Mr. you, with the O. C. T. A. ly necessary, t depends the mg in various r it is thrown ,s. Then the ich is a sinche , but supplied ppiied. This t the one gen- the '• miner's receiving its rie lashing is lis a diamond ything ready, lanner. One ces his loot the pack, and ■ope running n the "nigh" p. The rope s, pulled and part of the is firmly se- , cured. He is packed. All that remains is to step back and let him go. It' he has been in the business long, he knows it is policy to fall in the line of the train, and stay there. Sometimes a pack will get loose unperceiveu, or tlirough negligence, and then a liorse that, perhajis ten minutes before, was so meek and jaded he seemed ready to lie down and — rest, bounds instantaneously into energetic ac- tion. Frantically he pianccs around, and performs soinersets and double-action feats worthy of an accomplished acrobat, freely distributing to all points of the compass an endless variety of frying-pans, camp-kettles, cofloe-inills, and articles of a similar chacnc- ter, till, relievctl of his tormenting pack, he stops. He was "bucking" — that was all. Rather an airy accomplishment that vestern horses have. Woe to the f'oor rider who mounts a prize bucker.* Ho finds out his mistake without much dilTiculty, and climbs into the air, out of reach, pretty tpiick. After our pack-bucker has stopped, he turns, slvly winks at his companions, and, with a vicious relish, drinks in the scene of devastation. Mournfully we gather up '.he scattered val- uables, and, replacing them upon the gentle creature's back, draw the lash-rope so verv tight that, as he moves olf to join the impa- tient caravan, his every step causes him to give a most melancholy grunt, that ser\es in a measure to atone for his work of desolation. Our train held st.;adily on its way towards the Kibab Plateau, or lUickskin Mountain, which extends like a huge barrier across the western sky, from the angle of the Vermilion Clifl"-- on the north far into the hazy south, broken only at one point by the Grand Canon of the Colorado. It seemed, from the direction of our trail, \ that our gulch must be a branch of some hid- den valley of tlie plateau. But it appeared such a long way off, and the bright spot in the clouds inarking the sun was already far down towards the horizon. I hoped it was not there. The snow, too, set in bold relief the tall pines, and it all looked .so cold and dreary for a camp I We had not our supply of winter clothing y.."t, and the impudent snow- flake that flitted before ine felt like an icicle. But what right had an explorer to think of discomforts.' Was it not his lot.' There were dea-' pines atnongthe others that would make noble fuel, and the blaze would dance and crackle as it reminded us of last night, when we huddled close around the flashing brush- fire, now chilled by the searching winds, un- broken by a single obstruction, and anon ([iiickly drawing back to escape the fierce con- flagration of a fresh supply of brush, and finally retiring to our cold blankets for com- fort and protection. My retlections, however, were superfluous, for the trail began to verge to the north, and, as we neared the plateau, we turned the angle of the clilf, towering close on our right, en- tering a long, gutter-like valley, about three miles wide, lying between the clitfs and the plateau. It was House Rock Valley. We must, then, be near the giilcli and the famous House Rock, from which the valley, and gulch, and spring had derived tlieir names. P.ak S.idclle. H.Tir Sinche. * Don*t get the idea from this that iiicii ride 011 the packs, They don't. I.asli-rope Sinche. The VermiM.on Cliffs were full of gulches, and we looked momentarily for the trail to turn into one of them, though, from their gen- eral aspect, one would not have looked thci-e for water. They lost some of their forbidding impressions, however, as we became more ac- customed to the ruggedness, and as the vege- tation surrounding began to change from the stuntevuh myself, were the ompany to re- main. The Deac.in had the inllammatory rheuma- tism. He had it bad. He had it so very bad that, in his helpless innocence, he coultl do nothing but sing at the highest pitch of his melodious soprano, to drive away the melan- choly thoughts of dying, and being "plant- ed" by the trail-side, — " 'llierc'll be-e no sorrow there, I'hcre'll bc-e no sorrow tlit-re ; In hciiven above, whcru .UI is love, Tlicrq'll bc-e no sorrow Uicro." Whenever he travelled at all, he h.ad to ride, and so he would have to ride up the side cf the plateau. The climb was a sharp one, Uiid the horse would be tiroil out; so I had to uo along (my luck) to bring him back. n 1' d for ««crN His large, the General through the sank to the soon hung :r found us 5t, for some were .^oing for years — d and true, my zepliyrs hatted over that time — 3 far ahead too, sliould the smiling iffs, warned i for torrid e morning t as well as uld permit, omfortably. i an insane ictus, which Liination of a prowling gled in the 1 liad nc er IS that ca;- li a hatefil igaging my Ml, g breakfast packs were Jencral, the e three, lo- pany to re- ry rheuma- 60 very bad ic could do litch of ills the melan- iig " plant- had to ride, the side cf rp one, aad had to ao r H K POND, i I I ■ : I 1 THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. 109 When we rcnchcd the foot of the mountain, the most gradual rise was selected, and. after a (leal of lianl scrambling, the summit was gained, where all were willing to take a rest. A lialf mile hack from the ascent, the De:ier)n was transferred from Thunderbolt to "Okl Doc." a staid and pensive steed. Then I hade tliem all a final farewell, and turned towards the verge of the plateau, with my cayoose in tow. As I walked along, the Deacon's sono- rous voice eclioed thri>u.;h the timber, — " O, Doc! f lease. Doc. won't you go?" I presumed that Doc had got to studying geologv, as the train n;oved over the exposed strata; but I did not for a moment imagine that he would disregard such an entreaty. It would have moved an orang-outang to tears. From what followed, I concluded that Doc was possessed of a hard heart, tiiat had been deaf (o the Deacon's gentle tones ; also thai the latter had forgotten tliere would be '■ no sorrow there." for he produced a paragraph of persuasion, which, crashing like a whirlwind through the stout branches, actually made old Thuiulerbolt's teeth chatter. It was a tri- umph! There was no room for a doubt, and I passed out of hearing, satisfied that as an cxhorter the Deacon was a grand success. Emerging from the fiinber, I stopped to contemplate the view. First, far away in the north, could be seen the end of the /'oun-smzv- gunl plateau, followed hy Table Mountain with its vertical, pink face, and intervening the broken lines of clilT. Further to the cast came the sharp peak just to the right of Talile Mountain, and the long line of regular clilTs, swinging round to the Navajo Mountain, which loomed up majesti- cally in its solitary grandeur; while peeping over the top <5f these cliffs were the five snow- white peaks of the unknown range, lying close to the Dirty Devil River. Between me and the clilVs were House Rock \'afley, the \'er- milion Cliffs, the Pa Ria Plateau, the narrow caiion of the Pa Ria River, and a vast expanse of broken desert. To the south was the long line of the Kibab, ending in a mass o(' rugged crags; and an expressionless stretch of weary desert, separated by the narrow but deep gorge of the Colorado. All was but bitter desolation. There was something fascinating about the view; hut to call it beautiful was impossible, for beauty seems to imply charming softness and regu- larity of outline — a view, for instance, which, instead of crushing one, bv its grandeur, with an overwhelming realization of his own in- significance, breathes upon him a soft, ethe- real zephyr, that melts all the harshness of his worldly spirit into rapture, and transports his soul towards an lesthetic throne. Tl'.e scene before me was not one of this kind. It was stern and cold. It reflected the brilliant sim with an unchecked fierceness. The dazzling glare of innumerable colors stunned me. The dark gorges seemed threat- ening to swallow me up, and the ragged peaks to toss me to the sky. I felt lonely. For re- lief, I gazed with my glass towards the gulch, to se^' just one sign of reassuring life ; but the film of blue smoke that usually marks a hidden camp was dissolved in the shimmering haze. Like a frightened boy, I concluded i wasn't wanted around there, and started for " home. ' I went down the trail, with Thunderbolt A Coyote annihilited. leading behind, and had gone but a few feet when I found that this broncho, like the gen- erality of western horses, had a will of his own. He didn't believe in going down hill without calculating every footstep; that is, he didn't helievi" it till I convinced him of the follv of his ways with a Spanish bayonet. When I arrived in camp once more, I found my companions busy pitching a four hy eight observation tent close 10 the fire. At'ter it was stayed and guyed thoroughly, the captain cov- ered the ground inside with the dry, sweet- scented canes from the spring. Upon these our blankets were spread, and then we stepped hack to admire the institution, which pervaded the entire gulch with such an air of comfort. As darkness settled once again over the val- ley, and a delicious odor was wafting to any one. but especially to the hunger-stricken coy- ote (kj-o-ty), from the beef sputtering over the fire, a chorus of the latter saluted us from out in the valley. I lO THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. •• Boys." iNcIaimcd Cap., " I'm going into I W'c were K-liluin ilistiirbed nt night in oni ic fur business : Covote fckitis .ire prettv | f i THE CAMP IN THE OULCM. "5 stantancously. Once, when I borrowetl his only siuldle t<> ride out to the settlement, he said, as I mounted, 'Tell the bov- ' (m.v loin- pan'ions who remained) ' it would be no u>e to try to take me, for amonn these rocks I could defy an army.' We could have taken him a hundred times before that; but that wasn't what we were there for — " liaiii^' A pistol-shot. •■There's your conl'ounded wolf-trap! Let it j{o now ; I want to j{o on. — l'olyj;amy comes next. .\s vou know, that is the most ohjec- tionable feature of Moinionisin. It does \\{>t belong; properly to the IJook of Mormon, but was an afterthous.;ht — I mean, a sul)~eipient revelation. For a loni; time it held its own with all. some of the .Saints invcstini; heavily, John 1). Lee, of whom 1 spoke, havini; !i:ul some sixty wives and seventy-two children. .\s a rule, three or four wives was the maxi- mum. " At present polygamy is on the deiline with all who eare anything about the ojiinion of the world ; but what can you erpeet of people reared in those valleys in the mountains, where schools are \ery little known.' Think of voung men and women who can scarcely write their own names; never saw a railroad; don't know whether Lomlon or the LnileJ States is the bigger, and are taught to believe that those familiar elitVs and mountains are tticir property, witil which the United States govermnent has no right to interfere; and that • Brother' Rrigham is the being endoweil with unlimited powers, whom they must look uj) to and worship. And it is not only the younger class who know nothing, but most of the older ones know still less. To be sure, there are sonic 'smart" men in Utah, but thcv are alw.ays sure to have a high and lucra- tive position. '•To outsiders the Mormon women alw.ays endeavor to appear cheerful; but to anyone who can sympathi/e with their woes, and gain their confidence, they will pour forth tales most awful. "Many of the writers on the Mormon cpies- tion have seen only its bright side in Salt Lake City and surroundings. One can only get at the reverse side by travelling south among the poorer classes. Many a wretched woman is sorry enough that she ever left her native land, but she can never return. '■Some of our Mormon 'brethren' have more wives than they can support, especially if they happen to be constitutionally weak. So the wives have to support themselves, and, i' hey prove good liands at it, their liubbies also. Many poor families in Utah live upon i;reen cern. melons, and Krpuisheg during the autumn, while at other tinu's they get along the best way Uiey can. Sometimes they have flour ai.d corn meal, and sometimes none. Most of them have cattle, which can graze on 'the range.' and therefore cost notliing to keep; so, however poor, if a Mormon lainily have a cow, they get all the sweet cre:im and fresh butter they want. 1 he LiliLriMcle. •'Coffee, tea, atul strong drinks aie set forth as injurious in the Book of Mormon, which is very convenient for those who cannot alTord to buy anv. Those who can atVoril it disre- gard the ad\iee; those who i innt)t gracefully accept the other alternative. I always noticed one thing, though, in a certain town where I happened to be once, viz., that if anybody was sick, some one wouUl come and beg or l)ny colTec, or tea, or sugar iVom our rations, as no medicines could be found within eighty miles. Ai.d if any came to our camp, they would generally drink our tea and coiTee to a greater extent than any one else. Wine, too, is made in great quantities 'n 'Dixie,' and sold or exchanged cheaply, the result be- ing most shatneful drunkenness of theyounger people at certain periods, — the young men, I mean. 'Dixie,' I would say, is a name ap- plied to the lower valley of the Virgen River; and apropos, I will singyou the song 'Called to Dixie,' which 1 have often sung before, but which will fit in just here first rate: — Once I lived on Clotton-wraxl, And owm'd a httU' (arm ; But now I'm cnllcil tii Dixie, U'liicli Rivcs me nincli .il.irin. To raise tile corn and cotton I right .away must ro ; The reason why they called on me j I'm sure I do not Itnow. ' I yoked «p Jim and Bolly, I All for to make a start To leave my house and garden, Whicli almost broke my he xit. ar iir, THE CAMl' IN Tin; (il I.Cll. We rolled anng quite ilowly, And oflen louked behind : For the uiid .iii'l nicks nf Dixie Ke|)t running throiiuli my nimd At lait we reached the 111. ick Kidge, Where we Irtike our w.igoii down ; We couldn't find .1 carpenter, For we were twenty niilet from town. I cut a clumsy ced.ir pole And lixt-d an awkward slide ; My wai;on ma so heavy That litisey could not ride. When Ik'tsey was a-walking I told her to take care ; Rut all upon a sudden She struck a prickly pear I Then slie began to blubber out, A* loi.d as she could bawl, ' O, if I was back on Cotlon-wooJ I would not come at all ! ' At last we reached the Sandy, Where we could not budge at all : Poor old Jim and Dully Degan to puff and lolL I ripped and swore a little bit. But couldn't make the route. For myself my team, and Betsey, Were alt of iii gi'n out At lenRtli we readied Washington, Where we stopped a little while To tee if the April showers Would make the Virgen smile. Dut O, we were mistaken, And to we went away ; For the red hills of November Look just the same in May. I brought this old coat with me. About two ye.trs ago ; AnJ where I'll get another I'm sure I do not know. If Providence protects me All from the wind and wm. These times me nor Betsey Never will forget. My shirt was colored with dock-root, A grease-wood for a set ; I'm sure it will all fade out If it once gets wet. They say they have foMod madder. And indigo so blue ; It all turned out a humbug — The story was not true. It is so sad and dreary — There's nothing here to cheer Except prophetic sermons We very often hear. They hand them out by dozen*, Prove them by the Book. I had rather have six roastin' eari, And stay at home and cook. I liave had the chills and fever Until I'm almost dead. 'Twill be seven weeks next Sunday Since I have tasted bread. C'arrot tops and lucern We have enough to eat. I'd like to have my diet changed Tc bu:'£whe?t cakes and ic's: My wagon went for snrclium se«^ : To gel a little bic.td. Poor old Jim and Holly Long .igo are dead. None are left but nie and Relsey To hoe the cotton tree. Let Heaven reward you, Dixyilet, Wherever you may be. " You see, tlien, that nil was not lovely in Dixie in early days. The composer of the song is now enjoying his old age in Salt Lake City. Clothing was not as plentiful as il might have been, and I know of one family who even now go bafefooted and in rags for nine months out of the year." The Pirate then spoke of the mineral re- sources of Utah ; the mines, and the miners; reasons why the Mormons did not early work in the mines, &c., all of which I am oblis^ed to otnit for fear of crowding my columns. Next, he told of the industry of the Mormons, for which I shall find room. "The Saints are generally termed a very industrious people. I will adtnit that some are, and again I will admit that some are lazier than Digger Indians. They are indus- trious, but not energetic. Those who are en- dowed with energy are sure to be bishops, elders, first counsellors, orsoinethingorother, where they will have the handling of the tithing, and are the corner-stones of the church. " This tithing is a sort of tax upon each pro- ducer, to defray the expenses of the govern- ment (i. e., the church), and in this case the word means a tenth part of each family's earnings or produce. Thus, if a man raises ten bushels of corn, he must deliver the tith- ing, or one bushel, to the bishop of his town. From the store thus formed the bishop draws, to entertain any travellers who happen along, as, he being the head man of the town, his house is as a hotel ; all strangers are directed to it, as a rule, to ' put up.' Almost invaiiablyhe gets paid for his services by Gentiles, and it is not surprising that, betwixt it all, a bishop is always the wealthic-t man in a town; and without difficulty you can single out his house from the others by its greater proportions, finer finish, and better architecture, unless the town happens to be the residence of a ' president,* when Ais house will be the finest. So now, if any of you ever get into a Mor- mon town (as you will soon) where there is no hotel, steer for the best-looking house you see, and you will not miss the bishop's, where you will always find the best to be had. Per- haps a dance will be in progress as you ride •.i7>, if it !•= a frontier gcttlemsni where they r sm THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. »'7 not lovely in )08er of the in Salt Lake cntiful as it f one family ] in rags for mineral ra- the miners; )t early work ! am obliijed ny columns. ie Mormons, rmed a very it that some at some are ey are indus- ! who are en- be bishops, ling or other, dling of the ;oncs of I lie ion each pro- the govern- this case the ;ach family's a man raises iver the tith- of his town, lishop draws, appcn along, wn, his house lirect'id to it, invariably he ntiles, and it all, a bishop a town ; and out his house proportions, dure, unless :sidence of a be the finest. : into a Mor- here there is ng house you shop's, where be had. Per- is as you ride It where they li i have no large public buildings; though R-ner- nlly their fandangoes are held in the school- houses and inccting-houses, it being no sin, as- dancing is a part of the creed. I will tell vou about a dance [ went to one Christmas night. It was held in a little stone building, which served as school-house and meeting- house, temple and tabernacle, city hall and a rendezvous for trading Navajoes; it was fif- teen feet by thirty, in width and length, and >.ome twenty feet high. It was situated in one corner of lui old fort or stockade; and its four windows, opening into the arena of the fort, glowed with an inviting brilliancy upon the night in question, when, after our ride through the chill wind, we galloped up. Strains of vi- olins came merrily through the cracks; flitting brms told that the fun had already begun. Dismounting, we entered. "Two sets were all the floor would allow in action at once, and they were skimming around lively enough. All round on seats sat young ladies and youths, old ladies and old gentlemen, with intervening gradations. Each of us received a number, on entering, according to the rules; for as but sixteen per- sons could occupy the floor at once, the male attendants were called up in regular succes- sion hy their numbers. You know I am al- ways backward in such dashing assemblages; sol retired to a corner to watch how things progresscil. The room was bare, with board floor and i^Iaring rafters, while across the lat- ter lay a row of musket-;, reauy for an emer- gency. Darkness was dispersed by three tal- low candles stuck on boards against the wall, a kerosene lainp, and a roaring pine log in a huge fireplace. "The violins kept up a constant flow of music, interspersed with — 'Ladies, change!' 'Gentlemen, forward ! ' and the like, while the dancers, throwingolTall formality, entered into the spirit t f the occasion with a vehenieiice never seen in a fashionable ball-room. Some burly fellows would 'come in from without just as their numbers were called. The room was warm. They doffed their coats instantly, grasped a partner with a word or two, and away they went, commencing with a bowing salute, varying and indescribable. "The fair damsels, too! clad in neat calico, ladiant with smiles, their hair anointed with delicately perfumed pomades (butter!) until it resembled patent-leather, and formed on each temple an exquisite ' beau-catcher,' with red, vcllow, blue, green, indigo, orange, and violet ribbons fluttering in the local whFrl- wind, were simply gorgeous. They sailed around like nymi>lis from fairy realm." Then the Pirate told us of the farming fa- cilities, the rivers, the lakes, and the moun- tains of Utah, and concluded with the follow- ing:— "About 1869, Orson Pratt invented what they call the Dcseret Alphabet. The Bonk of Mormon was printed in it, and it was taught in the schools, with the view of making it the sole system of the state. But it proved too much of a problem for the majority of the brethren, and so it dropped into obscurity, and I only obtained this volume through a friend in the ring. It is merely a system of phonography, with new signs, and as the signs are all very complicated, it cannot be written without great Labor. " With another word I am done. The Saints have many faults, but they have been dogged around enough to compensate. They have utilized these valleys in the tnountains, which would not have been done for years hence. Then let us treat them like friends, hoping that the problem of the extermination of po- lygamy may be solved with satisfaction to all — by a new departure ; or, in other words, by a revelation from on high." The Pirate sat down. It was agreed that no remarks should be made; so for a few moments we all sat staring blankly at the glowing embers, until Cap, starting up, said he must go and get his wolf. The chronoiTieter indicated twelve o'clock. It was titne to "turn in;" so, after drawing closer to the fire, to get thoroughly warmed, we were about to retire, when the General spoke of our next lecture. " O, yes; who'll follow me?" asked the Pirate. "I will," exclaimed Cap, as he came into the light of the fire and threw down the car- cass of a wolf. "I will. Subject: The Sliinomos, or the Artists of Nature." " Very good," we said. NoTK. Cotton-wood is a creek just soulli of S.ilt Lake. Mormons are "called" from one settlement tci another. Virgcn is iIk; F.io Virgen. Grease-wood Is a bush similar to the s.ige-brush. Lucern is a species of clover. A man named Rigdon attempted to become the perma- nent president of the church, but was defeated by itrigham Young. ^JET "li- iiS THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. SniNOMOs AT Home. in THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. -THE SHINOMOS, OK THE AB.TISTS OP NATUKE. BY jrSTIN DALE. " /^N'CE i\\ion a time, my friends," boLjan ^^ the Captain, in tliat oiil-rasiiioncd strain wliicli used io give siicli a deep mvstery to our childish fairj tales, and whieh now causcti us to prick up o ir ears for a lecture tinned with a coloring of romance; "ves, onci> upon a time, pos.siblv long centuries ago, a far diller- ent class of beings from what we now find here inhabited these dills and mountains, and trod the grountl round this very camp- fire, as IS jiroved by the remains of their houses, which we find scattered around, and the abundance of arrow-head chips and broken pottery. These iic<)i>le were called Siiinomos, i.ieaning 'wise men.' because they were versed, to a certain extent, in agriculture and the arts. They were not as highly civilized as the old Toltecs must have been, or as the Aztecs were ; nevertheless, tli y were a remarkable race, and at one time may liave been' subject to the Aztec rule, though dwelling so far from the capital. Their intercourse, however, with the y^.ztecs, isdoubtl'ul; for 've find their picture- ■w.iting less systematic, and no traces of any other instruments than those which they nian- ulactured from wood and stone, while the Az- tecs wrought bronze ver^- extensively." " Like the latter, they have gone to their last resting-place, leaving behind but, a remnant, who have gathered together in the ' Seven , Ancient Cities." and, wliile del'ending them- : selves again>t the attack... of enemies, arc be- coming each day less and less. A few more short years, and the only proof the tourist will find of their existence will be the crum- bling ruins of their towns, the ruined dwell- ings and towns jioz'J scattered over the south- west, and the mysterious hieroglyphics which are inscribed on the rocky tablets, proclaiming a wonderlul tale, that silently petitions lor a j translator. i " Distinctly I remember th.c first I ever saw of this jiecnliar writing. We were camped on the bank of Green River, at the northern extremity of the Uintah Valley. Two or three I hundred yards hack of camp aro^e a clifi' of homogeneous sandstone, some two liundretl ! feet high, and upon its smooth base the geol- i ogist discovered some figures utterly incom- prehensible. Ho came to camp and spoke to several of us, saying that he had made an in- j tcrasting discovery, anil if we would l"ollow ! hiin he wouUl show it to us. Leading the way : to the foot of the clilV, he stopped. It was f f THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. U9 liich tlu'v man- while the Az- isivclv." mc to thcii" last )ut a remnant, in the ' Seven lend in;,' them- lemies, are l)e- A few more )of the tourist I be the crum- ruineU tlwell- 3ver the soulh- Ljlyphics which Is, prochiimiii!^ petitions lor a fir>-t I evor saw were camped ; the northern Two or three .rose a. clill' of ; two luiiulred liase the j;;'ol- ulterlv ineom- ) anil spoke to ad made an in- ! would follow eadinj; the way jppcd. It was f r evening, and growing dusky; so at first we did not perceive the inscriptions, but thouglH Stonenian had stopped to examine some di- versity of strata with a geologist's eye, and would soon go on. Instead, he turned, and emiled mysteriously. My companion said, ■ Well ! ' while I, at the instant catciiing sight of the carvings, uttered an ' O-o-o-h ! ' and sprang closer, with a ' Who do you think could have done this? ' " Never having seen anything similar, we were fascinated. We searched along, and found others of a like rude nature ; then, as the darkness grew deeper, our steps were directed towards camp, there to discuss the strange pictures, to determine, if possible, who had been tl "? artists. " Indians must have made them; fcr what object would a white man have in chiselling such stufi" on the rocks? we reasoned. And then came the question, 'By what Indians were they made ? ' This was the Ute's country ; therefore it occurred to us that i/iey were the artists. If they could, they must solve tlie riddle; and we resolved to button-hole the tirst red-skin we came across, and entreat him to explain. Armed with a sketch and a nega- tive, there appeared but one difficulty; and that was, no one could speak or understand a word of Ute, excejit Bothwell, who had beer. '♦Tut west ' once before, and. somewhere, had picked up the phrase, 'Anna nea Pi Ute inch, cotch am bana,' which he carefully de- fined as meaning, ' What do you call this in Pi Ute?* His right there was none to dis- pute; so we learned to speak the sentence fluently, and tried to feel satisfied that it was what we wanted. " A sharp lookout was kept for more inscrip- tions, and for our interpreter that was to be. He came even sooner than was anticipated; for one morning, as we were eating breakfast and chatting quietly, a shout warned us of some one's approach, and an Indian, with a ' How-how,' rode into our camp. He was be- decked with paint, and dressed in his finest suit, at least in a very gaudy array of buck- skin, red flannel, and beads, and, dismount- ing, squatted upon n little knoll, just as though he was one of the family. How many more there might be at his heels we could not tell, and, as long as they kept away, we did not care. " We offered our beaming savage some breakfast, which he caused to vanish as though he had not had a morsel to eat since the hour he was born. Then telling us, by means of gestures, that he would meet us farther down, he jumped on his steed, and was o(T. " After starting, we had not gone far before we came upon his ' wicky-up ' (you know what a ' wicky-up ' is — a little shelter constructed of boughs) and his family. The latter was composed of his squaw, two horses, and a small dog. Now, in the midst of his posses- sions, was the time to get him to solve our problem; and our artist produced his sketches. Presenting them at the aboriginal, he ex- claimed, with acute accent, 'Anna nea Pi Ute inch, cotch am bana?' "The Indian took the sheets, gazed at the little black figures solemnly, and muttered something in his dialect. "•Pshaw I you didn't say it right,* said Bothwell. ' Here, let me talk to him. — Anna nea i/ic//' (tapping the paper with his finger) ' Pi Ute, cotch am bana?' " Qiiietly laughing, the Indian said nothing, though he must have thought we were a pack of idiots to talk so nuicli about a bit of paper, tliat 1.0 him seemed but good to wrap a ' ciga- rito.' Bothwell was nonplussed. He walked olT without a word. The artist exclaimed, in disgust, ' Confound him, he don't know hi.s own language!" and, snatching the papers, returned them to his portfolio. It was a for- lorn hope. Either the savage knew nothing about tlie pictures, or he did not understand us. I have come to the conclusion that both causes produced the dilRcu'ty, and we left him unceremoniously to himself, his family, and a package of smoking-tobacco. '•Not until all this passed did it enter our heads that the designs were the work of the ancient inhabitants of this region — the Shi- nonios. Ruins of their dwellings, we knew, were scattered throughout Utah ; but as yet we had ourselves seen none. We began to tee that no one else w\-'uld have placed the writing on the rock; for, ii the Aztecs were so proficient in picture-wri'.ing that they could, in a few moments, record passing events so minutely, it would not be strange that the Shinoinos, an allied tribe, should be guilty of writing their history, or the history of cer- tain "clans,' upon the rocks near by their dwellings. The Shinomos, then, were the artists; and we sailed on down the great river, ever alert for new proofs of their habitation. These came in succession, rapidly, and at the same time grew more interesting." I expunge a portion of the lecture, where the Captain told about several discoveries of little importance, such as fragments of pot- tery, Sic. "No new signs then occurred until we reached Stillwater canon, when, one night, •- I2n THE CAMP IN THE GULCH, or evening, — as the photographer was scram- bling among the rocks, he discovered, far up the side of the cliff, some funny little huts, built between shelving rocks. He called down for those who had leisure to come up and see what he had found. I, for one, climbed up ; and, as everything likely to prove Shinomo began to be of all-absorbing intereft to me, I was delighted. " We raked over the dry dust of ages, it ni IV have been, lying inside the huts, and found various little proofs that they had, at some earlii-r date, been the homes of luitnan beings. The most striking were a few small corn-cobs, dry, and almost as hard as stone. These we captured and carried down to camp, when we had sufficiently ini^pected the build- ings. The colonel had also returned from a tour of discovery, having found on a flat point near the river, and some fifty feet above it, the ruins of several w-ell-deuned houses. Around these tlic' ground was strewn with the fragments c. (lottery, &c., showing that thev must either have lived here a long time, or been rrther rough with their <■///««. "Towering on all sides \ ore the almost vertical walls, rising about twelve hundred feet; and at first sight ono would have sup- posed it impossible for any one to get out. The colonel, however, had found an easy path, in one direction, to within three or four hur.iircd feet of the top, when a perpendicular ledge, over twenty feet in height, caused them to halt. At the bottom .of the ledge there was a narrow talus, or slanting mass of debris. Following this around, as it afforded a firm foothold, and appeared strangely compact. they came (there were two others with him) upon several dry, pitch-pine poles, braced firmly in a crevice. White with age, they had, doubtless, in this dry climate, stood there many and many a long year. " Knowing that the pinon pine decays very slowly, and these poles seeming quite strong, one of the little party tested them by climb- :r„' up, while the two others bracod themselves below to catch b'm, if the timber should give way. Then twilight began to steal upon them, and they had to hasten down, first, however, dstirmining to follow the path out on the morrow. " Around the camp-fire ihat night wt, had a good talk about the Shinomos; and the situ- ation was somewhat romantic. As one of the boys observed, wc could almost feel the magic prcoccj of the departed race, and see them cultivating their little patches of corn, work- ing diligently at their stone arrcw-heads, knives. Sec, or skipping from rock to rock in the ascent of the clitf. And in imagination we saw something else. We saw the brave little clan hemmed in on all sides, and show- ers of arrows falling thick and fast from the verge of the cliff, black with the enemies of the Shinomos, with the oppressors of the ' wise men.' These foes of the mild-natured civilians were rapidly driving them from the country, and appropriating it themselves; and now all that are left are the Moquis. The colonel, having spent som» time among the inhabitants of the Seven Ancient Cities, re- lated many curious things of them. Their towns are built on high cliffs, called '■misac' by the Spaniards, in order that they can bet- ter defend themselves and their flocks, and afar off discern the approaching enemy. The houses can be entered only from the flat roofs, which arc gained by long ladders. In case of an attack, the ladders can be drawn up, and the town resolved into a comparatively formidable fortress. " One town is built on what mit;ht almost be termed an island, accessible only by a nar- row istnmus, or causeway, whose sides make a precipitous plunge of several hundred feet. Upon the approach of the enemy, the town- side of this passage was all that it was necessa- ry to guard ; and there a handful of men could repel a host. A small band of Navajoes, — numbering some twenty-five, — by making a charge, once attempted to break through this barrier, and gain the heart of the town : but their bleaching bones on the rocks below are ample testimony ef their success, and serve as a fair warning to future operators. "Their flocks of sheep were in constant danger of being driven off by the Navajoes and the Apaches; so corrals wre constructed of stone; and upon the slightest warning the shepherds hurried the flocks up the cliffs; and n i: l; i ' "—■"' -^-**'' THE CAMP IN THE GULCII, 121 1 to rnck in n;ii;;ination tlie brave and show- it from the enemies of nrs of the ild-natured n from the lemselves; iqiiis. The among the Cities, re- !m. Their 3d ' tnisac ' ;y can bet- flocks, and leinv. The e fiat roofs, i. In case drawn up, riparatively i;ht almost y by a nar- sides make ndred feet. , the town- I'as necessa- r men could lavajoes, — f making a hrough this town : but s below are , and serve )rs. in constant e Navajoes constructed earning the ! cliffs; and I once in the corrals, they were safe. Below the towns, by means of irrigation, corn, cot- ton, peaches, and garden vegetfibles are cul- tivated. "The agricultural work is done almost en- tirelv by the men, while the women remain in the vicinity of the liouses, and prepare the meals, weave, or do some other light worl:. '•Usually their repast consists of a pot of soup, from which they help themselves in the most convenient manner. As an accompani- ment, they have a peculiar bread, called '/e- kee,' which is made from corn flour, in thir. sheols, resembling somewhat the coarse vari- ety of wrapping-paper, and varying in color, some being red, some blue, some green, all according to the color of the corn from which it was manufactured. "The sheets are packed away, for keep'ng, in rolls; and these rolls, to the Moqui'^, or the Shinomos, nrc the staff of lite, just as our loaves of n'hcaten bread are our staft". " When not otherwise employed, the women spend their time at the loom. And you think it strange, no doubt, that such savages should have looms; but their loom does not resem- ble the intricate piece of machinery we find in our factories, for it is but the embryo of that. It is merely a heavy frame, upon which the foundation-threads are stretched, while the dusky weaver dexterously passes his bob- bin — in the sh.'ipe of a long bow— in and out between the threads, in the process of 'filling.' Upon this rude machine they con- struct some really beautiful blankets, which bring a high price among white traders, on account of their solidity and durability. Many of them are so closely woven that the hardest rain is shed as from a piece of sheet iron. And, after all, they are more like sheet iron than anything else when they get wet, for the fibres become rigid as wire. " An industrious Moqui will sometimes spend months of steady labor upon a single blanket, weaving an endless variety of figure in gayly-colored wool; and, when at last it is completed, he journeys into the adjacent land of the Apaches, or the Navajoes, or theCoho- ninis, or the Mormons, and dispones of it for the small consideration of a hor^c or two. Besides blankets, they weave sashes, stock- ings, garters, and similar articles, which they trade profitably to other Indians when they get tired of tliein. " Their ceremonies and dances are impres- sive and interesting; but strangers are not •Iways allowed to witness them. Tlicir re- ligious rites arc in keeping with the blratige creatures themselves. What se;;ms almost id- iotic to a stranger is a foot-race, performed each morning by certain individuals for about an hour, around concentric large circles. An Indian, almqst uude, will come out, and start around the largest circle at the top of his speed, and will keep up that rate until.the time to stop, when he retires. "Worship of idols is conducted in the un- der-ground temples, or kivas. where the holy fire is kept burning, and where are all their records and paintings. "At present these children of Nature are watched over by a fatherly Indian agent and his son, who arc fast getting an accumi'lation of paltry dollars in that most mysterious man- ner so well known to all Indian agents. These guards of the Moquis effect their purpose, for one way, after this manner: Large quantities of cotton goods, tin ware, boots and shoes, traps, axes, &c., are annually sent to this agency to be distributed amongst our aborigi- nal citizens. But it happens, and perhaps quite luckily for their happiness, that they do not like boots and shoes, tin pans, and some other things; consequently, instead of wast- ing such valuables upon savages, the ingenious and noble-hearted white men have struck up a brisk trade with some of the Mormons, whom the Pirate told about; and now each autumn a well-laden pack-train winds its way to the settlements ot the Saints, conducted usually by the church's agent for southern Indians. '•As government goods are always better and less cxpcnsivf than any others, the traffic is one which pays heavily on the capital in- vested. But I find that I have wandered some- what from my strict subject; and so I will go back to our camp near the ruins. " When the colonel had finished telling us those facts about the Seven Ancient Cities, we turned in, some to dream of the rehabita- tion of the gulch by the phantoms of tlie wise men, and some to sleep the sleep of the right- eous. To mo it seemed but a few moments before I awoke to find the sky above faintly illuminated by the first gray streaks of dawn. It was not long before all were up, and then our plain breakfast was disposed of in haste, for we were anxious to give tiie gulch a thor- ough inspection. Two or three of us picked our way to the ledge, or table, whereon had stood the Shinomo hamlets, and from there watched several others climb the clifF, and help each other, like pygmies, up the ledge, that to us appeared but a stepping-stone. Then they disappeared round a projection, and we turned to investigate the ruins. 122 THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. •The liousc; were almost fjone, only one liavinf; walls of any height, thouj^h all vcre well defined in form. This best-preserved house was .»bont twelve feet wide, and twenty feet long. How liigli it had been it was im- possible to estimate, as but six feet of the walls stood; though it is probable that it was but one story, having been built rapidly, and with danger lurking close at hand. We found in a narrow crev ice remains of a rude stair- way to the river, built, most likely, to obtain water for household purposes. The brightest of tlic ihaicedonic chips and the prettiest pieces of pottery we collected, and then sat down in the shade of the large ruin to study the silent home of the departed race. Here on tliis vcrv spot the children had sported in tluir innoteuL-c, and made the solemn, silent canon re.-ounil by their merry laughte. and wild shoul.i in their musical hmgu.ige. The fragments of pottery, ground round, and punched with a hole, which we had found ly- ing beside tlie ruins, had, in all probability, been f"irmed by the children as toys. They had played with Iheni. and tossed them arounii. and thought what wonderful things they had made ; or had pretended tc ' keep house ' up un- der the shel.ering ledges, ji.st as you may ha\ e done many a time in a pleasanter locality. •■And below waved the lield of yellow corn, sending aloft the music of its rustling leaves, while the dark-skinned harvester plied his knife of stone. In the houses, the Oiijer sex were grintling corn to make bread, or shaking the life out of some little brazen-lunged ras- cal, \.ho had ventured too near the edge of the clirt", and risked timibling over. "All these things passed vividly belbre us, and we almost began to iin:',g;ne ourselves in some foreign clime, and iVil lor our letters of introduction. Would tliat it could have been sol But no ; our artists, our wise men, were gone. Where ." "The picture, relieved of its romance, was rock, where it had, perhaps, rested over a century. "It contained several coils of willows, split, ready for basket-making, which were so ten- der with age that they snapped undi-r the slightest pressure. Around one bundle was tied a small piece of cord, or rope, so rotten now that it came to pieces on being handled. It was made from reddish-looking fibres, anil was well twisted. •'The pot itself was still somewhat black on the bottom, iVom e\posure to firo ; aiid we all looked upc)n it as an invaluable relic — which it was; but it was destined never to reach the settlements in its natural condition, as, a short time after, it was accidenlally broken into small |)ieces. "The])athout had been an easy one. for the aged ))oles had sustained the parly with- out showing any signs of yielding; and, once up. lluy found no more diiricultie^, but went out on tlie ])lateau with ea>e. but a gulch of the canon, nii and desolate. The red rocks towered towards '.he sky; the old farm was overgrown by dense willows ; the houses were in ruins ; and the only signs of habitation were our cpiiet camp, a half mile away, and three boats lloat'ng on the glassy stream against the bank. Hunger began to suggest a return al"ter awhile; and, without further delay, we wended our way back through the willows to camp. " The others came in soon after, bringing with them a huge pot of earthen ware, which they had found, quietly awaiting a discov- erer, in a nice, dry nook under a projecting It might li.ive bc.jii a puruini of .i Roy.il Tc;>-set. ••This consecrated spot was left with re- gret, as we went on, and we found nothing more of importance until Milicrag TJend wr^ i-eacheil. Here wc found several caves in a detached clilT. In front of these caves were two or three .icrcs of soil, available for culti- vation, and the rare prize had not escaped the Shinomos. Selecting the caves for their dwelling-places, and the ground for their farm, they muse have lived in comparative se- curity, for a time, here in the heart o( the desert. " Tin openings of the caves had been walled up, except an aperture answering for a door, and in one a second, serving for a window. The lloors, covered with a debris of dust, sticks, bones, and cactus spines, were eagerly overhauled, in the dim light, for relics, in spite of the scorpions unearthed, and the pain I used by once in a while touching some of the cactus spines. Nothing but a few corn- cobs, however, wa liscovered, and, as it was anything but agreeable in the caves, no one a THE CAMP IN THE GULCH 123 Hi was desirous of pursuiir^ the exploration to any sjreat extent. " Our next discovery was still farther down. We had just left the inouth of the Dirty Devil River, when one of the boys espied an object which caused an exclamation. We looked to- wards the left bank, and there, upon a prom- ontory rising about two hundred feet above the river, stood a house — a genuine house right here in the wilderness, though seeming- ly without a roof; or. if it had one, it was flat. Certainlv no one lived in this desert; none but an Indian would live here, and he would not go to the troubleof building a liouse. The conclusion that followed was, siniply, Shitio- mo! A landing was instantly effected, and we -started across a strip of level soil, inter- vening between the cliff and the river, in search of a point of ascent. Immediately bu- neath that part of the cliff upon which stood the castle, the ijronrid was covered with the usual accumulation of pottery fragments, ar- row-heads, and chips of clialccdonj'. One piece of pottery I secured was so artistically marked, and so finely finished, that it might have been a portion of a royal tea-set. "To the left was a talus, affording an easy ascent, and, taking advantage of it, we stood beside the ruin — for ruin it was — of a house so symmetrical that it would have done jus- tice to a more modern architect, supplied with improved instruments. Three walls, some fifteen feet in height, were still standing, and of these the corners were as true and sharp, and the walls themselves as straight, as plumb- line could make them. Some kind of mortar hiid boon used, but it must have been merely mud-mortar, for now not a trace of it could be found. "The point of the cliff upon which it was built was formed of level blocks of sandstone, and upon tiles'-, close to the base of the house, were cut a number of curious designs, while the large, isolated rocks close by were tattooed all over with pictures, highly praiseworthy for such humbie ' artists of nature.' Under the verge of the cliff ran a narrow bench, over vhich the rocks projected, so as to form a per- fect ceiling, ten feet or more above the rocky floor. This bench could be gained only at one or two points f;om above, and at but one from below. A series of walls had been built, dividing this natural hall into a number of dift'erent houses, or compartments, with win- dows and connecting doorways, while here and there were balconies, where the rocks above did not protrude far enough to form a roof Many of the walls had fallen down, leaving the apartments light and airy; and with ease we strolled alon^, viewingan almost continuous panorama of inexplicable draw- ings adorning the back-rock. " What a rare gallery of art it was. this col- lection of pictures which had waited so long for admirers! And only now its visitors had come. Some of the designs were chihclied out, and others were executed in a strange style of coloring, which seemed a part of the rock itself '• Our artist copied them all, and I have drawn some on this paper from memory, and some from notes. .Serpents and lizaids there were- and bodies with heads, and bodies with- out heads; strange circles, with zigzag lines running through them; arrows, crossed; queer-shape'' individuals, with their hands clasped together; and fish, and mountain sheep, and I don't know what all. " This place was almost as impressive as the ruins above; and it was with the greatest re- lucti.nce that we resumed our voyage, and watched the home of the artists till a bend in the river drew the curtain, and we turned our attention to the lookout for more. We saw the ruins of three or four houses on the right ; though, as they did not appear very attractive, we did not land; but at evening, close to oui camp, on some hills, were several ruins, rather indistinct. Witliin a few feet of the best-pre- served one was a circular basin, resembling the sawdust ring of a circus, only it w is but about twenty feet in diameter. This the colonel pronounced a ruined kiva; and for a while we dug vvith prodigious energy, attempt- ing to strike thcold, buried walls. Alas for our fond hopes of discovering rare relics I Dark- ness came upon us too soon : and in the morn- ing, owing to the low state of our larder, we were obliged to pull out, and sail on. Each day now brought iVesh signs of these ancient artists. Once some pottery of a rare cream- color was discovered. Again, in a bide al- cove, was tbund a store-cave, with a very small door, whose sides showed the impressions of the builders' fingers in the plastci-, as though made no later than yesterday." Next, the Captain gave us a description of a peculiar wall, supposed by the Mormons lO be of Shinomo origin; but geologists had pro- nounced it nothing more than a dislocation of strata. He also told of various out-of-the- way places where he had found the carvings, \ much to his astonishment, and then proceeded I with the following: — ' " The vicinity of Mount Trumbull, although I rough and volcanic, abounds with evidences ' of early habitation by the Shi nemos. Boul- I ders of basalt, as hard, almost, as iron, are 134 THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. I found covered with carved fijjures, and the tops of some of the Unagkaritchets, or cinder- cones, abound in ruins and broken pottery. •'Over a lava bed, ragged as a nutmei;- grater, imd which can onlv be traversed with the greatest care, trails have been built in all directions. Hy following these, it is easv, comparatively speaking, to walk over the lava; and you would at once notice the vast dilVer- ence between the rocks in the trail and those outside. A bit taken from tlie main bed re- sembles a coarse sponge in texture, but is as hard as flint, and very angular; a piece from in the trail is as smooth as a cobble-stone. How many, many passing footsteps it must have taken, then, to accomplish all this! For look at an ordinary sidewalk, composed of moderately soft Bandstone. Does it not take long years for the multitude of footsteps to make an impression.? The steady flowof wa- ter will in time w:ish away the hartlost rock; and just so did the tread of mocca'-oned feet grind down those fragmentary rocks to peb- bles. '■ The quc.-tion naturally arising in your minds is. Why did they travel over such rug- ged ground.' And it can only be answered by the supposition that their iozuns were built upon the lava bed, to ofler the enemy a greater disadvantage. •■ Near the terminus of one of these trails was a little hollow in the rocks, which became full at even a slight shower of rain ; and close by this water-pocket, half buried beneath a mass of lava, was discovered a human skele- ton. Between the mouldering ribs, an Indian water-basket, or jug. was decomposing; and the whole presented a ghastly sight in such an awful sepulchre. The teeth were yet well pre- served, and I obtained one of them for a relic. It was a molar, and of a different shape from any I had ever seen before, and yellow with age. The skeleton could hardly be that of a Shinomo, for it does not seem possible that it would last so long, exposed to the snows of the mountains ; and yet it may have been the last poor, wretched remnant of those who in- habited the lava bed, who piowled around among the dark rocks, evading his enemies successfully, until at last, perhaps, his water- ing-place was discovered. Then a vicious brute ensconces himself snugly behind a screening rock, and patiently waits his time. The moon breaks forth from a silvery prison, with a cheering brilliancy, as the poor Shino- mo stoops to lill his exhausted j^ig. Tlie twang ot a bow-string break- upon his ready ear; but it is to;i lr.'° for hipi to escape. The tearing arrow pie.-ccs him through and through. With a yell of defiance he starts up to fall quii'ering upon the cold rocks, as the moon, seemingly horrified, draws again its dark curtain. A pitiless smile plays about the mouth of the assassin, as he rolls over the corpse, and withdraws the arrow. Then, to finish his work, he detaches the mass of black hair, crashes several large rocks upon the bod)', and disajipears in the direction of a dis- tant fire. " That is a picture of Indian warfare, wheth- er the victim be Shinomo or Caucasian. "The lava bed was estimated to be about three hundred years old. So the Shinomos who lived there must have passed from exist- ence somewhere in the neighborhood of one hundred and fifty ^-cars ago, as no tradition of them can be obtained from any of the pres- ent Indians. They were exterminated by the advance-guard of the great Ute familj', just as the Utes in their turn are giving way to the present generation." Continuing, the Captain gave us a lengthy theory of the origin of the races of America, whicl. I cannot repeat, but wilt give you his closing words. "Thus, all through iliis south-western country, you find signs of civilization, pre- historic; and the farther south 3'ou journej', the more massive are the ruins of habitations, and the more perfect arc the works of art, until you reach the ruins, so grand and majestic, in Cent.'al America; the remains of great cities, constructed, abandoned, and dis- integrated long before the proud Aztec Mon- tezuma ruled his vast empire, and long: even, bel'ore that empire existed. ''And now, gentlemen, having told you about all I know of the Shinomos, the wise men, and NatLi.-e's rude artists, I will say no more, leaving you to ponder the subject to your hearts' content." The long, dismal howl of a coyote rose through the silence of the vlley, becoming faint in the distance as the Captain sat down. "An appropriate 'ainen,'"' . .narked the General. Then a consultation was held to see who should deliver the next lecture, and, unac- countiibly, it again fell to the Captain. Re- luctantly he agreed to entitle his lecture "The Unknown River, or Old Father Time's Masterpiece." Note. A, in Indi.™ words, gencrri!!)' has the Italian sound. Kiva is pronounced ktva ; Shinomo, Shet-no-mo ; Moqiiis, Alokees ; Nav.ijo, Navaho ; Ap.icne. A-fiatch-tl Cdhonini, Co he-ne itc ; Wicky-i'ps is probaUy contracted from viickfr-up^. THT' CAMP I\ THE GULCH. MS I * Tllli briiliKs.MA.N iLIMMNi; TO A RlNG IN THE SXEKN. THE OAMP IN THE GULOH. IV. -THE UNKNOWN RIVEH. OB OLD FATHER TIMES MASTERPIECE. UY JUSTIN DALE. GENTLE reader, the subject for the lecture this evening was not new to us. How- ever, the Captain proposed to present it in a form as attractive as possible; and the topic would bear much fresh iiandiing: in fact, we never were tired of re-discussing the wonder- ful river, and of hearing the Captain rehearse some of his thrilling experiences; therefore we preparcii .o listen to-night to a discourse of comsiderable interest on the unknown river, the Rio Colorado Grande of the Spaniards, and the Americans' Colorado River of the West, which so long in solitude had wrestled with the hard rocks obstructing its pathway to the bosom of old Ocean, ci.cered on by its own eternal thunder. The interest, too, was heiglitened by o.ir being so near to Marble Canon, one of tha deepest and grandest chasms c/f the whole col- lection. We had gazed from eminences, through the blue haze, at its narrow top, and often wondered how the interior looked; won- dered if the same clear sunshine that bathed the rocks of the gulch ever nenetrated to its mystic depths, scarcely believing the Captain when he answered in the allirniative. Qiiietly our lecturer began as follows : — '• Far aw.\y in the north, among the wild gulches of the Wind River Mountains, several rivers rise, and, swelled by additional streams, become irresistible torrents. One of .these streams, the Snake River, plunges rapidly down, and settles in the channel of the great Columbia. Another, rising but a short dis- I tance away, is Green River. Its emerald wa- ' ters tumble down in numerous rapids, through small canons, foretelling, with an ominous murmur, the terrible struggle to take place below. Two or three hundred miles are thus 1 passed, when a high barrier is found. Tearing I through this, its fate is sealed. It begins al- I most at once its headlong race to the sea, i hundreds of miles away, and six thousand feet ' below, and stops not until, mingled with oth- j er waters, it unites with the briny tluid of tl.3 j Gulf of California. I "This is the Unknown River, and its course ■ is marked by a deep gash on the surface of our globe. But through this channel so deep it has not alw.iys run so furiously. In the be- ginning — so long ago thill no man can com- I pute it — the foaming torrent was a broad, i placid stream, meandering among the hillocks and flowing through great quiet lakes to- 136 THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. wards Rn abrupt coast, where it poured off into the sea. Slowly the surging waters un- dermined the foundation-rock of the cascade, and the top was crushed in, or, rather, broken off, thus causing the cascade to take a step backward, and leaving an alcove, or bay, sur- rounded by high walls. "The pent-up surge gnawed steadily at the foot of the fall, and again it gave way, taking a iipeak of we came late to what appeared a verv bad jiart of the canon. The walls rose vertically from the water's edge to a great height, before they broke back a little, to go on up to three thoiisai\d feet. Our commander- in-chief reconnoitred a little before starting on. When we ran a small shoot, ami pre- pared for the rest, the caiion was growing duskv. lending an impressive solemnity to the occasion. Louder the roar of water grew, and at a glance we saw the livei divided upon a rocky island, and lashed to foam against the citVs on each side. " Keeping in the line of the dividing water, we ran aground on the heail ol the small island, and, leaping ashore, held our craft fast, until the two other boats could perform the same feat. They did it successfully, though the last one came very near going over unceremoni- ou^lv. Our port curs li.ul to he h.islily unshipped. '• So far it was all right. One at a time, then, the boats were manteuvred down on the right hand side, to a sort of middle stage to the rapid. Getting on board our boat, we cast oft', and pulled with all our strength straight across the • tail ' of the rapid, to keep from being dashed against the left hand wall, for which all the current set with unswerving course. '• All was cleared safely, though our boat swept so close to the pointed rocks that oi'.r port oars had to be hastily unshipped. The other boats came through in as good a con- ilition ; and it was time. Darkness settled rapidly in the canon, and the clouds above, which had been flaming with the sunset rays, died down to a sombre gray. Our boats drift- ed on down the narrow gorge, till we were aroused by a loud roar, that sounded ominous in the gloom. We ran in, and made a camp. I2J> THE CAMP IN TllK GULCH. I " The scene at the island, I believe, was as awe-inspiring as any I ever beheld. With the dying radiance of the skv, and the increasing darkness of the caiion, it deemed that the world was closing round us, an awful tomb, and one strained his eyes longingly to catch the last flickering ray of sunlight gilancing across the dizzy brikik above. But, to dispel our sad- ness, after a whirling rain-Ntorin, that cheer- ful satellite, the moon, came sailing slowly and grandly through the broken clouds, up behind a forest of tall pinnacles, showering its dazzling rays upon the grt. at, cold walls, and holding every man spell-bound till it soured above the towers, and stood sternly against the dark-blue sky. " A day or two after, we ran up to the mouth of the Dirty Devil River. You smile, and think the title not very euphonious. I agree with you; but that is its name, and we must get used to it. Here began Mound Canon. Its walls were sharp, but not averaging more than twelve hundred feet in height. The river flowed smoothly, and we sailed past the mouth of the Rio San Juan, with ilry decks, into Monument Carion, past the solitary Na- vajo Mountain, to El Vado de los Padres (The Crossing of the FatherE). This was so named from the fact that Escalante crossed the river at this point, with a band of priests, in 1776 ; and it is a somewhat ren rkable ford. The walls are low, and in the autumn the wa- ter is shallow, — these being about as favora- ble conditions ae you can find on the Colo- rado. Entering the river over the rounded bluff, Escalante had picked out a path diago- nally over the shoals, to a small caiion on the other side, which afforded an exit. But it was a quarter of a mile or more above the point of entering, and in some places horses would be nearly corried off their feet by the cur- rent, and in others would have to swim a dis- tance. So you can conclude that, although from that tir.;^ until within a few years the Crossing of the Fathers, or ' Ute Ford,' has been the only practicable point of crossing, yet it was not child's play. Another cross- ing was found to be feasibl; at the mouth of the Pa Ria River, thirty miles farther down. Taking advantage of this, the Mormons have built a ferry boat there, as you kno'v, and have blasted the outlet canon at the ' cross- ing 'full of rocks, so that bands of raiding Navajoes cannot cross. " Opposite the mouth of the Pa Ria is the Echo Peak, which I cannot pass by without a word. It is twenty-four hundred feet above the river level, and gives a remarkable echo — the derivation of its name. A pistol-shot will die away, and aftor an interval r>f twenty-four seconds will be heard crashing amongst cliffs, many miles away, like distant artillery fire." (The cliffs could not have been more than four and a half miles away, for sound only travels one thousand and ninety feet a second. Allowing twenty seconds for the shot to die away, would give us a total of forty-lour sec- onds before the echo returned; or, the s(I-sliot will wenty-four mgst clitTs, llery fire." more than lound only t a second, hot to die ;y-l'our see- the sc'und over nine st, then, be half mites L'alc can be roken cliffs tains in the stretching is Marble h the later- ig serpent, d by walls lulk in the the narrow the bowels ne boat as : before we Shadow of hree of the :d it never d not lose but still in 1 this way : ngerous for ; smoother, 1. At this {htness \ as ne day the ugain came >e upon its he l.inguage to balk any ,s only one ' screw their I boldly face r in safety. ig of three hing worse }at and the point where once more, ment. Evil s they were pocket, they if ambushed their voy- age in safety, ami returned ti) more I'avoraljlc clinics. Still tlicy woluKmciI liow their old companions had fared; aiul il was only wliiii their late was tolil in llu' settlement by a iVieiid- Iv Indian that the matter was definitely set- j tied. "Their only monument is in the Temple of Music, a dome-shaped alcove, near the mouth of the Rio .San Juan, where, in the soft sandstone, they had carved their names. Upon this recording tablet we, too, inscrihed our names, that, tliouyh we mitjlit be maiii^'led in the seething liver, or slaughtered in some mouulain-guli 11, we might have the consola- tion of leaving a mausoleum behiiul. '• Into the jaws of the chasm, growing deep- er and deeper at every stroke, we sailed, listen- ing lor the liist sound of angry waters. For a short ilistaiice the boats j^lideil smoothly and swiftly on; the faiitastically-blia|)ed walls flitted by in a pleasing panoraiiui. Ten miles had scarcely thus beer, lel'l behind, when the river narrowed Irom four luiiuhcd to about three hundred feet, anil plunged down the gorge in earnest. Following each other thick and last ':ame exhilarating runs and hard portages. Ail day long, as in the cafions above, we were drenched to the skin. Some- times the boats would stand up on the huge waves composing the tail o( a rapid, until they felt ready to topple over backwards, or would graze a ragged rock hiding beneath a mass of foam, »o quickly that we only realized the danger when it was passed. " A thousand feet of marble was soon run up, and, added to the rest, made the walls about three thousand live hundred feet high. This marble was ot all colors ; not vai legated, but you could find ledges of almost any color you wished. In some places it was eroded into infinite varieties of castles, fortresses, and everything; else you pleased to imagine. But the whole surface was generally turned to a dreary red by the iron disintegrating from the red sandstones above; so that, although mar- ble, its resemblance to quarried marble was slight. After a short distance, other rocks, coming up from below, elevated it above our heads; and at the mouth of the Rio Colorado Chiquito, the total height of the walls was about four thousand feet. " At the mouth of the Little Colorado, a peculiar conglomerate was observed covering portions of the cai'ion wall to about five hun- dred feet above tlie river. It was then unac- countable; but subsequently we discovered that It had been formed in this way: Farther down the river an overflow of l-iva from a vol- i ano nerr by had occurred, damming up the canon as manv hundred feet as lIic height of the conijlonierale on projeitions of the walls, or ll\e hundreil feet jilus the amount of de- scent between the mouth of the Little Colo- rado and the point of obstruction. The water then rose to the hciiiht of the ilam ; ami it was many long ages before the barrier was cut away, and the river again tlowed at its old level. During this lime a deposit of sediment was taking place in the quiet pond above the dam; and the result was the stratum of con- glomerate, ill its turn nearly eroded, — which had been a problem. The river has sunk into the bowels of t*ie e.nrth. '• Consider a moment how lo g the river must have been in cutting aw.iy ti'.e hundreds of feet of lava; then compare that small piece of work with the gigantic gorges of the Colo- rado, so many miles long, and see if you can estimate how long the earth has been in ap- proaching its present state from, probably, a mere fragment of some other world. '■ It makes your head swim to dare to think of such a lapse of time; and yet you have lived twenty, thirty, or forty years, intending to live as many more equally long! " In 1540 an expedition was sent by Spain into what is now New Mexico and Arizona. It was under the command of Vasques de Co- ronado, who sent a detachment, in charge of an oflrcer named Cardinas, northward; and it was the latter who, after a march of some twenty days from the Moquis towns, reached the margin of a gorge, the bottom of which seemed to him more than three leagues below. '' Sebastian Coronado, I think, was one of Escalante's olTicers, and determined the junc- tion of the Colorado and Gilas, or some othe.* stream. In fact, there are so many Corona- dos and Diazes, and similar names, that one admires the ingenuity of a Humboldt, Irving, iy> THE CAMP IN Tin-: (JlLl II. I I. ' r i; or PrcRcott, in keeping them within their own •phere." We next liRtened to an account of several days' work, rife with danger and excitement; but I must omit it. One day's experience, which he told conci-iely, I will repeat. lie •aid, — " Another day, which ntnnd* prominently upon the pages of tny diary, is when the fierce river made an almost successful attempt to drag down our galLint leader, and Georije, the life and song of our party. It happened in thiswise: We h.id been having splendid luck, and dashed unharmed over nearly every- thing that came in our p.ith, having innumer- able narrow escapes ; but, so long as we came out 'all right,' a miss was considered fully equp) to a mile, and, besides, afTorded conver- sation for the camp. 'Hard on the '-ight I ' ' Hard on the left f ' Pull out strong! ' 'Pull, pull for your lives, boys I ' ' Pull like , boys, or we're gone !' rang in our ears, min- gled with the tumultuous roar of water, all day long. " Sharply, one evening, we c.ime to, upon a mass of granitic bowlders, where was room for a camp. Just below was a small rapid, and a half mile farther down was as ugly a looking hole as I had ever seen. The decision was to run it in the morning, an examination having placed it in a favorable light. Morn- ing, therefore, found the two boats with hatch- es battened down securely, and everything made fast that would go by the board in case of a capsize. " Our boat, containing the colonel, was to go first. Mantling the oars, we cast off, and swung out into the stream. The regular dip- ping of the oars accelerated the speed of the boat, and like an arrow she shot through the small rapid, allowing the colonel to catch a better view of the plunge. We would then have landed, and again inspected it; but it was too late. No human power could stem that tide; and, heading her on, we backed wa- ter, that we might fly into the boiling mass of surges, whirlpools, and waves with the least possible speed. " Silently, smoothly we swept down the de- clivity, and darted into the chaos. Wave after wave curled over me as I handled the bow oars; wave after wave rolled from stem to stern of our little bark, filling the standing- rooms even with the gunwale. '"Bale just as fast as you can, boys!' the colonel said, calmly but emph.utically ; and we left the oars, and plied the kettles with an ardor cooled only by '■ach successive wave undoing our work, till one, more powerful than the rest, struck us n blow on the port bow. and over we rolled, quick as thought. Had the colonel not had on his life-preserver, it would have been all over Vkith him. Even as it was, he v/nm pitched some distance from the boat, together with the stroke oarsman, George, and they were caught in a whirlpool, and drawn rapidly ilownward. I made a clutch for something, as the muddy watir closed over my head; and, luckily for me, my hand clasped a spare oar that was fastened to the gunwale, by the aid of which I brought my head once again into the life-giving me- dium. My hat, a soft felt, had been pulled well over my ears, and still held its ground, clasping my face so tight that I could not see, and could hardly breathe. After turning the brim up so that I could look around, I saw nothing of my companions. A second look, however, showed me the steersman clinging to a ring in the stern. We then, for the time being, were all right; but the whirlpool pretty near finished our friends. I had almost given them up for lost, when a commotion in the water beside me attracted my attention. In- stantly George and the colonel popped up as though shot from a bow. Had they come up twenty feet from the boat, they would have been swept on down the wild current, and dashed to piecis against the rocks. "Righting our craft, we one at a time climbed in. Then we laid to the work of reaching shore before another rapid could claim a visit. Had this latter emergency occurred, we would, most likely, have had to -ay farewell to the sunlight. A boat full of v ""-, all but three compartments, and with a hundred feet of hawser trailing in the water, is no easy thing to handle with any degree of rapidity. What- ever we did must be done instantly. We pulled like heroes. Caught by an eddy when near the wall, we were carried up strcain as fast as we had been going down ; and there was imminent danger of again being thrown into the main current. We succeeded, by steady labor, in running up to the granite; and, haul- ing in a few feet of the hawser, I leaped on a convenient ledge, and made fast to a small knob of granite, just as the consort ran alongside, minus a pair of oars, full of water, and with a rowlock torn off. Owing to her lightness and superior sea-going qualities, she had weathered the gale, and sustained only slight damages. " When order was once more restored, we proceeded, with the usual number of hair- breadth escapes, till near evening, when, in THE CAMP IN Tin: GULCH. »3« •verful tl.nn port bow. ight. Had reservcr. it Even as tnnce from e oarRfiiaii, . whirlpool. I made a udily wiitor for me, m>' fastened to I brought •giving me- been pulled its ground, luld not see, turning the ound, I saw econd look, an ctingin'4 for the time rlpool pretty ilmost given otion in the cntion. In- opped up as liey conic up would have current, and s. timeclimbed of reaching claim a visit. ;d, we would, rewell to the all but three dred feet of lo easy thing idity. What- stantly. We in eddy when up stream as and there was ; thrown into ed, by steady te; and, haul- I leaped on a o a small knob an alongside, ater, and with her lightness ties, she had ed only slight s restored, we mber of hair- ning, when, if ■ttempting to land at the head of a long, d.in- gerous rapid, a lurch of the boat made me miss my calculation, and. instead of jumping on a large rock, I sank beneath the current, while the bo.'it and its occupants rushed on to its fate, towing me by the length of line I had taken out, and which I clung to, dragging myself to the surface. " It was not the desire of the crt w to thus involuntarily run a bad rapid stern -first ; con- sequently, as the boat drifted past a projecting rock, the colonel leaped out, and tried to catch the line. He failed. The steersman franti- cally followed the example of our leader. Springing high in air, he came down with a splash upon a bowlder just protruding above the surface, and clutched it with desperate en- ergy- " Mow he got to the shore I do not know. I was interested elsewhere. I thought I was left to battle with the rapid alone, and as the water was no place to do it in, — to swim ashore would have been impossible, — I went hand over hand to the boat, and tumbled into the bow standing-room. Surprised and pleased, I found George had loinained to help me out of my dilemma, and we prepared to take the rapid in the mo>t advantageous man- ner. Close to the final plunge, in the middle of the stream, was a mass of granite as big as a hou^e. Against this the water surged, and then recoiled. The swell thus caused gave us an impetus towards the left hand wall; and, laying all our strength on the oars, we shot across, and lodged against a friendly projec- tion, while, speedily, I jumped on a ledge, and had her fast to the rocks. Safe! And hapjiy we were, you can believe, as we cast a glance over the tumbling waters to the gloomy bend below, and then above, to see what had be- come of the rest. "A point had cut off their view, and the colonel rapidly climbed up the clilT, to watch for the end. To his great ]oy, he saw us safe, and ordered the otiier boat to be let down by line, which was accomplished with extreme difficulty. " But one fine day all tliese things came to an end, as my lecture now has done. We bade a farewell forever to the wild Colorado; and that is how I happen to be here to-night, by the fire of our snug camp in the gulch, tell- ing you why my bones are not bleaching on the banks of the Unknown River." We dispersed to our humble shelter, for it was much later than usual, and all were ready to go to sleep, and " no questions asked." But, for the benefit of the inquisitive, I will add that our next liilure was to be delivered by the General, on " Some Noi)le Red Men." NoTB. Rio is pronounced rto ; S.in Ju.in, San l/ixhikH! Chiquito, tc^tkt-lo; Sit"r.i, .S'/.i>i ir r«A ; Ksialanle, Ki- ka laH-laj. Cliiquito meant v*ry titlU. 133 THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. Some Noulf- Red Men THE OAMP IN THE GULOH, v. — SOME NOBLE RED MEN. nV Jl'STIN DALE. " 'T^HE nanvc Anioricnn, us loiii;; :\s my •*■ memory serves me. li;is been the world's ide.il of cruelty." The Geiier.il stopped, and darted his keen blue eyes at us the more fully to impress his sentence. He --tooped and stirred up the tire before proeeetlinij. and one unaetpiainted with him would have thought that he had entirely foriiotteu himself in some vision of the pa.st. '•But." he went on, "was he by nature cruel, or did contamination with cruelty make him so.? We all now unite in sneering at his wretchedness, at ■ the Noble Red Man.' as he is swept away by civilization's irresistible tide. We all unite in condemning his fruitless at- tempt to ;.oid the liome of liis childhood against the i.ivaik'r; but wo do not stop to reason that we would, perhaps, act precisely the same, were we similarly situated. "You say we would not be guilty of such acts of cruelty as the savage has been known, to commit. I agree uith you; but let us at the sair.e time tliink a moment. Recall the gentle nati'.re of the savage< met by the Span- iards about the year 1500. Do you not remem- ber the words of the chief, who, belbre being bto-Hcd at the stake for resisting the authority of the Spanish crown, said, when asked, that he did not want to become a Christian and go to heaven, where he was told the white men went, for he would not go where he must again submit to such cruelty.' It seems to nie that European humanity must have been bc- I low par in those days; and when the words of this primitive martyr, together with other tales, were related to the young Iiv'ian. he must have started up with all his iTupetuosi- tv, and sworn eternal vengeance on all white men. '■ In consequence, the pioneei", returning from the dav's chase, found his cabin a heap of smouldering ruins, and ids family either , mm-dcred or carried away to a fate ten thou- sand fold more horrible than sim|)le murder. Before the miserable wreck of all that was dear to him, then, the hunter on his knees swore vengeance on the Indian. Forth he I went, and every Indian crossing his path was ' stricken by the imerring bullet, and another notch was added to the record on the stock of j his ;.".in. "These notches, most likely, recorded the deaths of red men who had nothing whatever 1 J ,1 5* THE CAM I' IN THE GULCH. 133 3'oii not icmeiii- 10, before being ig llie autliority hen asked, that X Christian and told tlic white a where lie must It seems to nie L have been Ije- when the words ther with other ling In''iaii, he Ills iitipetiiosi- lee on all white inecr, returning is eabin a heap is family either I fate ten thou- sini])le murder, of all that was ;r on his knees ian. Forth lie ig his path was et, and another on the sloek ol' \y, recorded the Jthing whatever to do with the rupture of his happiness, and who mav have desired pcaee as much as he hiiii-t'lf did. ■' It mattered not to the avenger. He thirst- ed for the bI(uallv well -built and mu-,inhir, with brilli.int eyes and pearl \- teeth, black nuislaches, that form on each side an accurate rij;ht angle, and loiii; black hair kept jjlossv by frequent washiui; with soap-iool — the root ol" a species of yucca. When I re- iiiark that anything- about an Indian is neat or cle.m, I mean that it is so for an Indian. Always remember that every Indian is more or less filthy: that is to say, none are clean. " We in\iti (1 a nartv of seven or ciLtht dis;- nitarie^ to camp near us once, that we might have an opportunity of learning their habits, language, and natures better. Our camp was beside a little shallow creek, and the Navajoes camped close by on the other side. We t'ur- nisbed them with wood from our pile, and gave them some rations, in order that thev might get into a mood for song and panto- mimic conversation, • ' "Witky-up." '• Until after we had di--posed of our own supper, we left them to themselves. But as soon as it was lairly dark, we went over, and it was only a short time before we bad them singing to their lull cajiacity. They did not stop with one or t\>o songs, but kept it up until for once we we-e abundantly satisfied. At some parts they laughed as tl'.ongh they would burst, anil, f.ir riught we could tell, might lKi\e been enjoying themselves at our expense; hut we cared not, and appreciated their hilarity as much as themselves. Finally, they retiuested us to sing; and of course we could not refuse, after they had gi\en us such an admirable concert. '•That sweetest of all songs \\as our first selection, for it was so entirely dilVerent from the broken bowlings of the Indians. Tlie l)eautil"ul words of ' Home, sweet Home,' rose sweetly on the night air, cbarmnig even our- selves, but delighting the red men. ■• Asb-tish-cal, the principal chief, was wholly abs( rhed. He leaned forward with a \ague. lost air. while his sharp e\es percepti- bly softened, as the gentle strains tell sooth- ingly on his ear, " As the lastnotesdied away, theyexclaimcd, with great jileasure. • Webuo, wehuo, wehi'o- ha (good, good, good), anil Ash-tish-cal stared ab--tractedly into the bed of coals. Was he dreaming of a home — sweet liome — recalled to his heart by the harmony of the song? Not iinju-obable, for. • be it ever so humble, there's no place like home.' •' We sangthem several more songs: •Cham- pagne Charley.' • I5eautiful Isle of the .Sea,' • Lone Starry Hours,' and others, all of which our friends enjoyed, to all outward appear- ances. ••To 'enliven the assemblage, a dance was next proposed. Not a ' L:incers,' or :i ' Re- dowa.' or a ' German.' but a genuine ^«/f/-/- ca/i • walk around.' such as one does not get a chance to jiarticipate in every day. Around the fire a inixed circle of Nav.ajoes and Amer- icans was formed, ;iuil when all wds re:idy, the Na\ iijoes struck up their music. To this tune wo circled round and round, with the in- describable Indian step, so slow and \et m) ilouble-jointeil, until \vc became di/zv, when we turned and unwound the other way. This was kept u|> imtil we concluded we had enough of it. Occasionally some one would stumble over a root or something, and nar- rowly escape falling into the lire, amusing the Indians luigely, "When we had again seated ourselves, the subiecl of I'i I'tes came uj). With a laugh the Nav;ijoes exclaimed, 'Pi Utes no wehuo,' and :it the same time a bright idea seemed to jiossess a short, wiry fellow, who jumpeil up and stepped ;iway :i rod or two behind .-onie tall skioik bushes. Another, whose name, translated, sigr\ilied ' the Hear," smiled as though he knew what was coming, and the smile passed to the lips ot the otheis, "The Indian soon reappeared. He Inul thrown olV all his clothing but his short breeches, and these were rolled up as far as practicable. His hair was dishevelled, his countenance was straineil into a perfect pic- ture of misery, :ind bis ad\ance was with a slow, sneaking gait, precisely the opjiosite of THE CAMP IN THE GULCH, 135 \Mi< (lur first lilViMviit from ulians. The t 1 loTiic' rose iig even our- n. chief, was rward with a yes porcepti- is fell bootli- oy oxchiiined. •hill), wfhi'o- is!i-cal stared ^Is. Was ho ne — roiallcd e s()ii'4? Not imlile, there's ngs : • Chani- of the Sea,' , all of Mhich .vard appcar- a dance was s,' or a ' Re- iiiiinc Amcri- does not get lay. Around ;s and Anier- I wits ready, sic. To this , with the in- V and yet so dizzy, when r way. This led wc had le one would iig. and nar- anuising the urselves. the \'ith a laugh s no wehuo,' ea seemed to jumped up hehind some ivhose name, .' smiled as iug, and the :hers. id. He ha. I ul his short up as far as lie veiled, his 1 perfect pie- was with a e opjiosite of his original firm, upright bearing. Evidently he was going to present himself as a comedi- an. He crouched close to the fire, exactly as the I'i Utes do, and spread his hand ; stillly over it, shivering contiiuuilly. Then, draw- ing himself up into smaller dimenoions, he revolved his hand about his face in the vicin- itv of his nose, and produced a prolonged snillle. very much as a boot-black would do, il' he had lost his cambric. Keeping his el- bows close against his sides, he shivcringly extended his hand, and exclaimed, in a whining tone, • Tobiic. iis/i-aii-ty.' ' Bi.iciiit, as/i-an- /)•.' suddenlv withdrawing it. with indications of great fear. This representation of Pi L'te character was perfect; and while we all laughed at the Indian's cleverness, he clipped away to his dressing-room again. •• Hardly had we fairly recovered from our laughter, when the mimic came out again, dressed in his loose shirt, his flowing cotton breeches, reaching to the knee, and his moc- casons. As he reached us, he said, ' Mcrica- nn,' and stopped close to the fire. He held liis outspread hands over it a moment, then rubbed them together, as he would do in washing, and turned his head away in disgust from im- aginary smoke. Next, turning his back to the fire, he raised one foot awhile towards the heat, then the other. Turning round, he a^ain held out his hands, and drew closer to the fire. His back soon getting cold, he had to jiresent that to the heat again, allowing his front half to cool awhile. And thus he turned round and round, till we were all convulsed at Ills accurate imitation of the way a white man acts when bv a camp-lire on a very cold night. He went through the same operation to rep- resent the Mormons, and again retired. '• \\'e boi^an to consider it a ' bi;^ show,' and anxiously waited for the actor lo appear in a new character. I le was somewhat longer than usual; but when he came, he was tlre^sed in complete Navajo costume — finel\ -stitched red inoccasons. with turned-up raw-hide soles, and brass buttons; red buckskin leggings, with scalloped edges, fastened just below the knee by long scarlet garters, tipped with fringe; the cotton breeches ; red sash ; cotton shirt, hanging loose, like a coat, ivaching to his waist; the liea\y, striped blanket foliled about his shouldeis; the turban, of gayly- colored cloth; and the long bow. with the fancy fur tpiiver full of arrows, hanging at his back. He walked to the lire with a gracelul dignity, and stood before it. motionless, re- marking, with a tpiiet smile, — " ' Navajo I ' •• This, then, was the way the noble Navajo conducted himself in camp. .Surely he threw no discredit on his race ; for if all appeared as he did tiiat night by the fire, we might truthfully speak of them as • some uoiie red men.' •• His show was not done yet. As soon as he had exhibited his finery sufficiently, he threw oil" the bow and blanket, and picked up one of their peculiar riding-whips. The near- est thing I can liken th"se whips to is a ' cat- o'-nine-tails' with only /zvo tails. Perhaps, in vour vounger days, you may have had the misfortune to encounter one of these animals. The Navajo whip v.ould be even more fero- cious in a hand-to-hand fight. Saying • Co- manche,' and ' Navajo,' our mimic went through a series of motions representing fighting. He showed the result by placing himself astride an imaginary lior-e, in the position of rapid riding, and. glancing behind, with a countenanco full of fear, he laid the whip heavily on his steed's quarters. • Co- manche. Comanche!' he shouted, meaning that the Comanche had turned tail, and was riding awav, to live and bravely fight another day. In the same way he showed that in fight- ing, with the Utes, — not Pi Utes, — it was they who were victorious at times, and at oth- ers it was the Utes. The Apaches were illus- trated simiLirly; and then he donned his blanket again, and seated himself beside his red brothers. His performance had far ex- ceeded our expectations, for, though we had seen manv Navajoes, never before had we found one whose dramatic ahilitv was so pow- erful. To an enterprising shownian he would he worth an immense I'ortune. ■■ Now it was growing late, and the darken- ing countenances of the Indians plainly said, ' GootI night.' Tlierelore we took the hint, and retireil to oi;r own quarters. The next dav thev took their departure, and we shook hands with the li\ely ininiic regretfully. •■When Navajoes tra\el, some go on foot) and some on horses. The horses carry rolls of blankets, which are traded for horses. And rare I v doi's the pedestrian make the return trip on foot. If he cannot trade for a horse, he sometimes steals one ; but these cases are not frecpient. ••When Pi L'tes and Navajoes get together, thev are as courteous to each other as so many wliite li\pocrites would be; but, nevertheless, ^•ou can easily arrive at the Navajo opinion of the Pi J'tes, when you consider the mimic's represeM.ition." Here the General related se\eral anecdotes 136 THE CAMP IN THE GULCH. of the Pi Utes and N.ivajoes, which I shall liavc to omit, recording tlic follcnviiig in- stead : — '• The Pi Utes," he said, " represent, as vou are aware, ahnost the very lowest grade of tlie native American ; and hence we are not sur- prised that tliev frighten themselves when they undertake anv piece of extraonhnary daring. Probably it is this very trait which has caused them to be of so little trouble to the whites. They have ofTered little resistance to the 'course of empire;' and whenever they re- sent an injury, they do it with al)-<>luto safetv to themselves. .Still, thcv have watched the white man's fast-accumulating power closely, I collect, while :ik is the Pi Utes is sterile and rocky Their food consists principally of wild rabbits, which are astonishingly numerous in the sage brush, and varieties of ^/-rtA-.« .fccf/. How you laugh at the idea of living on grass seed! but I tell you an energetic Indian will get fat on it. and would stay so if he could have a contin-.ial harvest. Could you see a bushel or two reauv for grinding, you could not resist the tempta- tion of tasting a nandful or so, and you would find it no mean food, either. "Of .iie diiVerent varieties of these seeds, those called • Ai:' and ' P(/.-7/,' are found most abundant. Pash is a verv line seed, hard to but usually ontent themselves with accepting the more rapidly accumulating refuse victuals. much coarser, and, I might " Several times the} luue attempted resist- ance, but hsve each time failed. Whenever I retlcct on the approaching fate of the whole red nation, the words of a chief — who was discussing the advance of ci\ ili/ation, the util- ization of their lamls, and the destruction of their game, with an American — ring in my ears. He exclaimed, sadly shaking his head, and with solemn accent, ■A/i-A-a/i'ci,^,, ah-kan'c- ga, nuctiy shnmi '.' ('Why, why, I think!') And m.ay we not also exclaim, ' why } ' What a deep, deep mystery is in that one word ! This chief sorrowfully admitted t!-.at the white man might have the best right to the country, as they made it uselul and productive; but still he wondered ' why.' •'The Pi Ute tribe is not all in one band, but is dividetl into several jiarties, each of which is ruled by a ' ucav' or captain. These say. is their main slay. The Sant.i Clara In- dians cultivate large fieliis of ak, which sup- ply them with a pro.)ortionate amount of food. In collecting the grass seed crops, —which, of course, is done by the women. — a large conical basket, of their own manufacture, is taken, and held in the left hanti before the feathery tops of the grass. Then, with ihe right hand, the tops are struck by a kinil of small cradle, and the fine seed drops into the basket. In this way. by going from cluster to cluster of the grass, the basket is finally filled, anil the old woman trips away to the wicky- ups, with her load held on Ik r back by a thong aroi'ud a strange conical or acorn- shaped hat which she wears, well satisfied with her work. •• I forgot to speak of the rabbits. Without these the Pi Utes would be almost destitute, for sometimes their ak and i)ash fail; hut the rabbits never do. Usually they hunt these animals with their hows or their guns; but at intervals a whole baud will proceed to a spot known to contain a large number, where they will atretcli a fine net — made from the bark of a species of milk-weed, for the purpose — around the sage brush, in the form of a semi- circle, whose radius is three hundred feet or more. The rabbits a:e then drummetl up and headed into this net, where they are caught in th,-; meshes until the savages can kill them. "The skins of the rabbits they twist into long ropes. These ropes are then sewed to- gether in the form of a robe, or cloak; ana otten some poor wretches wilt have no other covering. The robes, though, are warm, and arc not to be hooted at by any one. '• The ' mesca! ' of the Mexicans is also a favorite food of the Pi Utes, who cook it, or, subdivisions each have a certain section of | more correctly, bake it, in large pits, which country, which they claim as their own. and i are first heated by a fire, then the 'yant' put othei Indians never trespass, except on a visit. I in, covered with stones, and a fire built on the or in war. The whole region inhabited by ' top. This mescal, or yant, is a variety of vuc- Their food nbbits, which :ie sage brush, w you laugh ;eci! but I tell fat on it. and t a con tin 'in I 1 or two reauy t tlie tempta- ;nti)ou would r tli.?Ke seeds, 'C found most seed, liaril to , and, I might it.i Clara In- k, which snp- lounl of food, -ips, — which, ;n. — a large anufacture, is 111 before the en, with the :>}■ a kind of rops into the ■om cluster to finally filled, to the wicky- r back by a il or acorn- satisfied w ith ts. Without [)st destitute, fail ; hut the y hunt these guns ; but at 5ed to a spot r, where they om the bark e purpose — 111 of a semi- ulred feet or iimctl up and are caught in kill thoin. ey twist into -Ml sewed to- • cloak; ana ave no other •o warm, and le. ms is also a 3 cook it, or, 2 pits, which e ' yant ' put e built on the arietv of yuc- THE CAMP IN THK CULCII. »37 ca, with broad, bayonet-like leaves, fringed on each side with small, crooked spines, or hooks. The plant resembles the top of a pine- apple, and from the centre of the cluster of leaves a slender stalk shoots up, similar to young asparagus, attaining a great height, — the tallest I ever sav was about twenty feet, — j hard and fibrous. When this shoot first sprouts from the plant, the ' head' of yant — j tlie core ri the plant — is cut out, and subject- ed to the baking, which makes it tender, and sweet as honey. The Indians take il into the settlements, sometimes, and easily trade it for | rtour or old bread. I '•After yant the Pi Utes also gather for food 1 the Ind-an fig. or ' cactus apple.' the • o . .e ' apple, and the nut of the pinon pine. '•All varieties of cacti grow very raiikly in | Arizona. The one which bears the largest and best fruit is a great, spr:iwling plant, cov- ered with the most detestable spines conceiv- able. Its branches arc compo--ed of large, flat ovals, alternately at right angles with each other. Fields of these are as formidable as an armv of bayonets ; and one has to follow up some ravine or watercourse to get through them. Head a horse for a contemptibly small bush, and when he arrives at it. lie will jump high nough to clear a church spire. As an illustration of the top oval of one of tlu'se ve- getable tarantulas, hold up your hand, and spread it to its full extent. " The largo crimson ajiples, shaped like an egg with the tip of the broad end ciitolT, grow around the edge of the top oval, precisely as vour fingers stick up from the main part of your outspread b.and. They appear tielicious, and so tliev are; but the fuzzy spines which cluster over them will torment you terribly, if von are not exceedinglv delicate in your move- ments. The Pi Utc takes a bunch of fine grass, and gently dusts oil" all these sjiines before he plucks the truit. He collects a large quantity, which he takes to his camp, where the juice is pressed out, and collected in wicker jugs. The pulp that remains is rolled up compactly, and put awav for dessert, while the juice ferments, and forms a kind of wine, upon which they very often get intoxicated. "The 'ooseappl'^' grows abuiulantly. in large clusters, on another species of yucca, and looks temptingly luscious in August, when they ripen, and turn to a rich L;olden color. Thev are long in shape. — a little like a cu- cumber, — and onl; the outside is lit to eat. You taste them, ami find tlieiii to be so very sweet that they nauseate you. making you wonder how anvbodv can manage to cat them ; notwithstanding, some people, who get used to them, think they are better than any other fruit. •• Pifion pine nuts grow in cones, examples of which you find hanging to the trees around here; so I will say nothing more about them. " With a tew wildcats, birds, and scpiirrels, and rats, the things I have enumerateil con- stitute the food of the Pi Ute division of some noble retl men." Here 1 again make a skip to where the (ien- eral begins the description of a Pi Ute da. ice. '•Round a cedar tree, stripped of all its fo- liage but a tuft at the top, the Indians were circling, in that sidling double-sluifTle so pe- culiar, accompanied by their monotonous sing- ing, sounding all alike to a stranger, but every song having a definite set of words. "In some of the wicky-ups, before Haring fires, sat men and women dresseil in their gay- est attire, and with their faces hideously paint- ed ill vellow, red. and black, who were laugh- ing and chatting as merrily as happy children on Christmas morning. All was gayety and hullabaloo. We ilistributed presents of to- bacco and vermilion, heightening their hap- piness considerably. The •poet' announced new songs, and they howled away at them in their broken-jawed manner, keeping time with great accuracy, 'in the circular toggle-jointed quickstep, round the dismantled cedar. ■■ .Some of mv companions elbowed their way into the circle, and hobbled around, for the novelty of the tiling; but the rest of us didn't relish such close proximity to them. When asked why we diil not also participate, we said we did not like dancing — it was against our i)rinci|)les. '■I will sing you two or three of their songs. They are always short, but are rejieated over I and over again, with luimbjness variations. ' C.i sli.iliuin p"(iki. C.i siMliiiii) te l^i, Cii sh.il^un) pnnUi, Ca sii.iUuin tu lei,' and so forth. Another. • ' MoiiifrLJ m.i, .McKiuniiicUi m.i, Uinp.i slni, s!urr.i-;.;.i-vii, Unip.i sliu, shu-r.i-j;ii-v.i, Unipiiga V.I, slui-r.»-g.»-va, MoiUcrei iiM, Mu(iu, 'I'a sii wtmt tfx; .uiirnp i>i ava, ToL' ^unt te lats. * .Vnd. lastly, one which I consider a leillv me- I3S THE CAMl' IN Tin: cjri.cii. lociious composition. Hi'-^innin;; low, the soul; yraduallv rises aiicl tails, tliusi v : — ' \'.lh. y.ili, fiiii-fii-in, qtu'rii-in, qncen ut, (Jllt?un-ic>. t]Mci*ii-i'i, v.lll, >.ilt. ()iM'<-M-i" ne before I get through, ve a recipe — a prescrip- ns to say, — •'Uglil but a rabbit can I llnd anywhere. Ton l.)ok ten- der and tempting, and for two cents, or less, I'd prepare you for my dinner. So look out ! " Thinks h " Well, Mr. Wolf, you're an im- pudent vagabond, aiiy way, to become my companion on mv morning's stroll, without ^_ so much as barking good morning; and had I ; ceipt is a written ^';l^"";^'''''-";'^^'_"; ~ ,_ , mv rifle here, I would play you a nice tune to nice by. You are gaunt and shaggy, and would make a fine target." My gun was safe in camp, and all I unild do was to throw stones at the vicious-looking creature. At this he reconsidered the matter, and slunk away over the verge of a hill. I concluded my walk, and returned to camp, without seeing a sign of another animate be- ing, except the tracks of coyotes and rabbits. I found that the Pirate had been out in a south- erly direction. " If I had only had my gun this morning! but it's just my hick to be without it when I want it. A coyote was coming along the same way I was, and he paid no more attention to me than he would if 1 had been a cedar tree. It made me mad. I hit him in the side with a big rock, and he picked himself up and walked ofl'." I related my interview. " It is indeed time that we were moving away from here, if cowardly coyotes are getting so bold. They'll eat one of you delicate fellows | ■•rcnnn tlirouKh .i mass of hnr.l i.rnnchi-s." up yet, if vou don't mind your eyes." remarked (^jjp ■ " " A prescription.' .No. 1 made my own pre- "I don't believe these are coyotes that we I scription. But no wonder an ex-prescription saw this morning," I said. "They are too j druggist got ahead of me on recipe. I, being large, and the one I saw was a dirty gray nothing but an old backwoodsman, can't uti- color. I think they are mountain-wolves, derstand recipe, when I've always heard it driven from the timber to the warmer vail y ^ pronounced receipt." by last nif .t's snow." \ " You heard it pronounced wrong, then." "Youn..stbe right, for something larger "Nevermind; it won't make the cake any than an ordinary coyote reached two or three better, of my skins hut night, and I can't find a shred This ended the recipe argument of them." said Cap. " What are you laugh ing at.'" to the Pirate. "Why, the General's making a ginger- bread ! " And so he was. He had found a can of amo It was a regular source of amusement in camp — this controversy un words. If one mispronounced a word, either through c.irelessness or igno- rance, some one was sure instantly to challenge lim; and, unless he confessed his error, he ginger amongst the rations, and had stirred was called upon to dispute the authority of up some flour, and water, and cream of tartar, several editions of Webster, with which we and saleratus, and sugar, to which he added \ were, fortunately, only loo well supplied, about one half the ginger. At the moment The General's gingerbreai baked slowly. 142 THK CAMP IN Tin: Gl'LCII. It wiis not (lone till lonsj after ilimipr; ami we cnni-Jiidi'd to keep it tor supper. (lr>-t samplini,' it, to see tliat it was jjooil. It was a little ••sad.'" and rather sweet; but we called it •' double-extra." The afternoon passed quirklv awav. and another pr)int of the Pirate's propheiv was fullilled: it ijrew so warm fliat the lew inches of snow disappeared rapidly. As it turned cold asjain towards evening, the nieltin}; ceased, leavinj; patches of snow for 'o-mor- row's sun to act upon. Supper time came. " What do you think of your brilliant reve- lation now. my friend.'" asked the CJeneral of the Pirate. " I said he would come before dark ; and it isn't dark yet. I have a chance lel't." "A niiylit\ slim otu'," said the Captain. I was iu'-t raisincr ;i piece of ^jiiiyerbread to my mouth, when 1 happened to ijlance to- wards the hills boundint; the south-western Side of the K>'li"b. Twilight's linm-rini; ravs still illumined the sky with a soft liKlit, and against thi> backjirouml I saw the form of a huge animal loom up. Hoping that it might be my morning friend, I exclaimed. •' Look there !" and. snatching my rifle, hurried uji. The animal was gone when I arrived at the point. I hunted around some: but the twi- light rapidly faded, compelling me to go back. Hardly had I reached a position halfway to the camp, when I heard a long, familiar yell echo faintly from lar up the valley. An in- stant more, and I was beside the tire. ■■ Did you hear thnt?' I asked. " What .' We didii't liear anything." " Li.sten." All was silent a moment; then we " E-e-e-i-i-i-hooo-o-o " die away anion rocks. "Johnson I " they exclaimed. It was the looked-for messenger. "Now. ain't I a jiropliet .' " asked the Pi- rate. " It's dark. ' said Cap. " O, you can't expect me to make too close a connection. You must be generous, and al- low that I am endowed with extraordinarv power. Remember that I wasn't among the Mormons t'or nothing." "Very well; hereal'ter vou shall be Proijbet hjard. L!st the instead of Pirate. Does that suit you.'" in- quired Cap. " It does." " Hello, boys ! " shouted Johnson, as he rode into the gulch, leading a pack-animal. " How are you all, any way.'" He dismounted, and the tinkling of his large Mexican spurs soundedlike the ornaments on NH the coat of St. Xicholns. as he handed u» « package 01 Irtters. The pack was soon otT, and in the alfogas we discovered some apples, a canteen of native wine, and some ilried grapes. The mail first claimed attention; but after it, we gathered closer to the tire, to talk mat- ters over, and eat fruit. Ordeis were tobr.ak the camp in the gulch, and move to a spring in a low line of cliffs, fifteen miles from the western verge of the pl.iteau. It was now Sat- urday night. .Sunday we concluiletl to spend in getting things arranged; and Monday morning we would -tart for oin- new camp. The Sabbath sun beamed peacefully upon the quiet little camp, and by noon we had everything as much in order as was possible. The alternoon passed off as (juietly as usual, anil in the evening, Johnson — who hailed from Oregon ; had mined and prospected on Snake River, and in ditVeient parts of Idaho — related stories of his adventures with In- dians; told us of the wonderful rich leads lie had owned at varitui-- limes; how he had once ridden an elk on a wager; and how he had hunted six months t'or "The Lost Cabin,"* but failed to tind it; tolil us such tales as a miner would tell who had " rustled sage '' from childhood, and who had spent at least two tliirils of his lite in the saddle. At last it came bed-time once more, and our last evening at tiK camp in the gulch was ended. Until to-morrow we would sink into the oblivion ol' sleep, from which we should wake to take our departure. How soon to- morrow is to-day. and to-day isyesterdavl Sunshine had scarce crept into the gulch eie oLM- tent was struck and our packs were rcailv. Hut think us not too smart. Owing to the height of the cliffs, the sunlight did not enter the gulch till about nine o'clock. Still our start would have been early, as it should have been to make thirty miles, and to climb up and down many times, had it not been tor two bronchos which refused to be caught. We had to resort to the lariat, which we trietl to avoiil, as it makes a wild animal all the wilder, iohn- son easily threw a lasso on each ol them, and we led them down to the site of our oklcamp, where the packs were slung on, sinched on, and sinched as tightly as our strength would permit. One moment more, and our ritlin'; saddles were on; the train formed in inie. and filed slowly out of the gulch, and away from the spot whose every stone had become familiar * For tlie story of " Tlw; Lost Cabin, " I refer any who are intertsted to .i number uf the Ovcilanil Monthly, for about Dc^-mber, 1S72. It handed ii» « L uas soon oir, ;d some apples, nd some diicil tion ; but alter "e, to talk niat- 18 were tobr;ak )ve to a spring miles from the If w;is now Sat- liuletl to spend and Monday lur new camp, eacefully upon noon we liad s was possible, lietlv as usual, — who hailed prospected on parts of Idaho tures with In- 1 rich leads lie )W ho had once id how he had Lost Cabin," ♦ uch tales lis a led sai^e ' from t at least t\vo ! more, and our he gulch was ould sink into lich we should How soon to- ■ is yesterday ! 1 the gulch ei'e ks were ready. Owing to the t did not enter ock. Still our it should have d to climb up ot been tor I wo ught. We had tried to avoid, wilder, fohn- 1 ot them, and "our ok! camp, n, sinched on, itrengtii would ritliii'; saddles iiiie. and llled way from the come familiar THIC CAMP IN THE GULCH. 'f.i refer any wlio are Montlily, for about to our eyes. It seemed hard to de-ert the place, and leave it to the coyotes and the ravens. I looked behind as we reached the summit of the bounding hill, to catch a tare- well view of the rock-bound home. There was the square of yellow canes which had cushioned our tent; the little pine close to the fire; the stone scats; the trail to the spring. All was lying tpiiet as the grave, and made me feel as though I were miles away. Down poured the sun with his usual steadi- ness; lazily little wreaths of stnoke curled up from the smouldering fne. A raven sailed up, and perched silently on the pine where o'.w beef had hung. Another, with motionless wings, sail ', in and out of the angles of the clifTs, uttering a shout of, "Go-on, go-on, go- on I " The advice was useless. The hills and trees shut olT the picture, and we were fairly at sea. In a sliort time we climbed the kibab. — where our advance party had ascended, — and entered the forest. Johnson said that one of the party had en- countered a world of trouble. lie was wear- ing a broadcloth coat, which iiad done service at his wedding some year, before, and wliiih he prized very highly. He thought it would be romantic to wear it through this country; it would add to its value as a family relic. The horse he rode must have thought that a few honorable rents would also add to its value. for he persisted in going as close to the sharp- pointed dead branches of the cedars as he could without doing himself injury. So it was that this man with the wedding-coat had to keep a sharp lookout. As long as he watched him, the horse behaved very well, and his rider would begin to think that all was going on right, and would relapse into fond recollec- tions of distant home and friends, gradually slacking the reins till the cuyoose had his head. Then, the first thing he knew, he would find himself tearing through a mass of hard branches ; atul while the old coat yielded in dozens of places without a sigh, its wearer struggled hard to extricate himself from the broken limbs that clung to him, and the mountain-glades shouted back with exasper- ating intensity the laughter of his companions and his own unliuiitcd curses. By the time he got through the timber his dear old coat was minus half a sleeve, part of the tail was gone, and there was not a foot of uninjured material to be found in it. Although we regretted our old friend's mis- fortune exceedingly, we could not help enjoy- ing the story of his troubles, lie was an ab- surdly cccenfic fellow any way ; but his best " hold" was swearing. lie swore so well that it was only at extraordinary times that any one else was called upon to atfc-mpt tin- feat. lie never started in for a few milil exclama- tions — not he. The way he did it was to reel out yard after yard of blasphemy, until he was obliged to stop for breath. Then somebody wonlil infpiire, "What's the matter.'"' " O, nothing." he would reply; "I can't lind the hammer," or, " My saildle won't stay sinched," or something similar. We laughed as we passed trees at intervals, whose broken branches recorded the tale of the ageil weddin'4-c()at. :&^^ ! T\k I'lratL'. On account of the great weight of our ]iacks, i we were compelled to move slowly; and "two hours bv sun " found us on the verge of a Ion?, beautiful valley, not very deep, but two miles j or more wide. When we arrived at its farther I side, we concluded that the day's work had j been enough for the stock, and we would camji. We selected a sheltereil s|iot in the thick ever- greens, and threw olf the packs. There was ■ no water; but small patches of snow here and ; there would refresh the animals, and -i'c could rely on the filled canteens, besides two small water-kegs, which were full. \ Wood was plentiful. An immense fire was quickly bi It. and shot its fianies up into the : clusters ot green needles, making them crackle ; merrily. The General went to work to get the supper, with the assistance of the Pirate, ' while we three that remained took the horses out to an opening, where there was good feed, and hoppled them. To hopple an animal is to i fasten its fore legs together, — about eight I inches apart, — just above the fetlock joint, i Any old rope or strap will do for a hopple; but generally an " outfit " has straps made for the purpose, with buckles. The object in hop- f il 1. 14 TIIL CAM I' IN Tilt: {;ULCII. pliim, ^