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 1 
 
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 6 
 
"Gold, Gold, in Cariboo! 
 
 5> 
 
Gold, Gold, in Cariboo! 
 
 A Story of 
 
 Adventure in British Columbia 
 
 BY 
 
 CLIVE PHILLIPPS-WOLLEY 
 
 Author of " Snap "" A Sportsman's Eden " &c. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BY GODFREY C. HIND LEY 
 
 BLACKIE AND SON LIMITED 
 
 LONDON GLASGOW DUBLIN BOMBAY 
 
^^ y's i^ii- I-/SS 6p^ 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAP. '•«• 
 
 I. Th« Gold Fkvxb, • 9 
 
 II. A •' Oilt-bdobd" Spkoulatiok . . *^ 
 
 III. A Lrrrut Game of Pokeb, 33 
 
 IV. The Mother of Gold, 41 
 
 V. "Is THE Colonel 'aiBAioHT?'" 62 
 
 VI. The Wet Camp 64 
 
 VII. Pacino Death on the Stone-slide, ...... 78 
 
 VIII. Their first "Colours," 82 
 
 IX. Under the Balm-of-Gilead Tree, 89 
 
 X. The Shadows begin to Fall, 97 
 
 XI. " Jump OB I'll shoot," 107 
 
 XIJ. A Sheer Swindle, ............ 117 
 
 XIII. The Bullet's Message, 126 
 
 XIV. What the Wolf found, 182 
 
 XV. In the Danoe-housb, . 144 
 
 XVI. The Price of Blood, 158 
 
 XVII. Change's Gold-fever Returns, 162 
 
 XVIII. On the Colonel's Trail again, 170 
 
 XIX. "Good-bye, Lilla," 177 
 
 XX. Tbi Aooubskd Bivxb, 184 
 
 6 
 
 3^^v<)y 
 
▼i CONTENXa 
 
 CHAP. Page 
 
 XXI. Pete's Creek, 192 
 
 XXII. Gold by the Gallon! 203 
 
 XXIII. The Hobnet's Nest, 311 
 
 XXIV. Drowning in the Forest, 222 
 
 XXV. In the Camp of the Chilcotins, 284 
 
 XXVI. Rampikb's Winter Quarters, 248 
 
 XXVI I. The Search por Phon, 260 
 
 XXVIII. The Kino of the Big-horns, 258 
 
 XXIX. Phon's Return, 266 
 
 XXX. Cruiokshank at LastI 276 
 
 fit; 
 
m 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 Page 
 ♦'Gold— Gold in Flakes, and Lumps, and Ndoobts" Frotia. ?10 
 
 CORBETT SEIZES HIS ONE CHANCE 70R LiFE 
 
 80 
 
 With a scream or fear the Chinaman sprang out" . . 116 
 
 Lilla accosts the Colonel in the Danob-housb .... 146 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE GOLD FEVER. 
 
 IN the April of 1862, Victoria, British Columbia, 
 was slowly recovering from what her inhabi- 
 tants described as a serious "set back." 
 
 From the position of a small Hudson Bay station 
 she had suddenly risen in '58 to the importance of a 
 city of 17,000 inhabitants, from which high estate she 
 had fallen again with such rapidity, that in 1861 there 
 were only 5000 left in her to mourn the golden days 
 of he " Frazer River humbug." 
 
 In '48 the gold fever broke out in California, and 
 for ten years, in the words of an eye-witness, 50,000 
 adventurers of every hue, language, and clime were 
 drifting up and down the slopes of the Great Sierra, 
 in search of gold, ready to rush this way or that at 
 the first rumour of a fresh find. 
 
 In '58 California's neighbour, British Columbia, took 
 the fever. The cry of "Gold, gold!" was raised upon 
 the Frazer, and the wharves of San Francisco groaned 
 
10 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO!" 
 
 beneath the burden of those who sought to take ship 
 for this fresh Eldorado. 
 
 In a year most of these pilgrims had returned from 
 the new shrine, poorer by one year of their short lives, 
 beaten back by the grim canyons of the Frazer river, 
 or cheated of their reward by those late floods, which 
 kept the golden sands hidden from their view. In '58 
 and '59 the miner cursed Victoria as a city of hopes 
 unfulfilled, and left her to dream on undisturbed of 
 the greater days to come. 
 
 She looked as if, on this April day of *62, her dreams 
 were of the fairest. The air, saturated with spring 
 sunshine, was almost too soft and sweet to be whole- 
 some for man. There was a languor in it which dulled 
 the appetite for work; merely to live was happiness 
 enough ; effort seemed folly, and if a man could have 
 been found with energy enough to pray, he would 
 have prayed only that no change might come to him, 
 that the gleam of the blue waters of the straits and 
 the diamond brightness of the distant snow -peaks 
 might remain his for ever, balanced by the soft green 
 of the island pine- woods: that the hollow drumming 
 of the mating grouse and the song of the meadow 
 lark, and the hum of waking nature might continue 
 to caress his ear, while only the scent of the fresh-sawn 
 lumber suggested to him that labour was the lot of man. 
 
 And yet, in spite of this seeming dreaminess in 
 nature, the old earth was busy fashioning new things 
 out of the old, and the hearts of men all along the 
 Pacific slope were waking and thrilling in answer to 
 the new message of Mammon — "Gold! gold by the ton, 
 to be had for the gathering in Cariboo!" The reports 
 which had come down from Quesnel, of the fortunes 
 made in '61 upon such creeks as Antler and Williams, 
 
THE GOLD FEVER. 
 
 11 
 
 had restored heart to the Victorians, and even to those 
 Califomian miners who still sojourned in their midst, 
 so that quite half the people in the town, old residents 
 as M^ell as new-comers, were only waiting for the snows 
 to melt, ere they rushed away to the mining district 
 beyond the Bald Mountains. 
 
 But the snows tarry long in the high places of 
 British Columbia, and the days went on in spite of 
 the men and their desire, and bread had to be earned 
 even in such an Elysium as Vancouver Island, with 
 all the gold which a man could want, as folks said, 
 within a few weeks' march of them; so that hands 
 «xnd brains were busy, in spite of the temptations of 
 Hope and the spring sunshine. Moreover, there were 
 dull dogs even then in Victoria, who believed more 
 in the virtue of steady toil than in gold-mining up at 
 Cariboo. 
 
 Thus it happened, then, that a big, yellow-headed 
 axeman, and a ray of evening sunlight, looking in 
 together through an open doorway upon Wharf Street, 
 found a man within in his shirt sleeves, still busily 
 engaged upon his daily task. 
 
 "Hullo, Corbett, how goes it? Come right in and 
 take a smoke." 
 
 The voice, a cheery one with a genuine welcome in 
 it, came from the inside of the house, and in answer 
 the axeman heaved his great shoulder up from the 
 door-post and loafed in. 
 
 In every movement of this man there was a sugges- 
 tion of healthy weariness, that most luxurious and 
 delightful sensation which comes over him who has 
 used his muscles throughout the day in some one of 
 those outdoor forms of labour which earn an appetite, 
 even if they do not gain a fortune. 
 
IS 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO!" 
 
 As he stood in the little room looking quizzically at 
 his friend's work, Ned Corbett, in his old blue shirt 
 and overalls, with the axe lying across one bare brown 
 forearm, might have served an artist as a model for 
 Labour; but the artist into whose studio he had come 
 had no need for such models. There was no money in 
 painting such subjects, and Steve Chance painted for 
 dollars, and for dollars only. Round the room at the 
 height of a man's shoulder was stretched a long, long 
 s^rip of muslin (not canvas, canvas would cost six bits 
 a picture), and this strip had been sized and washed 
 over with colour. When Corbett entered. Chance had 
 just slapped on the last patch of this preliminary coat 
 of paint, so that now there was nothing more to be 
 done until the morrow. 
 
 "Well, Steve, how many works of art have you 
 knocked off to-day?" asked Corbett. 
 
 " Works of art be hanged!" replied his friend. "I've 
 covered about twenty feet of muslin, and that at five 
 dollars a picture isn't a bad day's work. Wha have 
 you done?" 
 
 " Let me see, I've cut down a tree or two and earned 
 an appetite, and — oh, yes, a couple of dollars to satisfy 
 the same. Isn't that enough?" 
 
 "All depends upon the way you look at things. I call 
 it fooling your time away." 
 
 "And I call this work of yours a waste of talent worse, 
 fifty times worse, than my waste of time. Look at that 
 thing, for instance;" and Ned pointed to a large canvas, 
 bright with all the colours of the rainbow. 
 
 " That! Well, you needn't look as if the thing might 
 bite, Ned. That is the new map of Ophir, a land brim- 
 ming * ophir' — forgive the joke — with coarse gold, and, 
 what is more Important, bonded by those immaculate 
 
THE GOLD FBVEIL 
 
 IS 
 
 knights of the curbstone, Messrs. Dewd and Cruick- 
 shank." 
 
 " An advertisement, is it ? Well, it is ugly enough 
 even for that. How much lower do you mean to drag 
 your hapless art, you vandal ? * Auctioning pictures,' 
 as you call it, is bad enough, but this is simple sign- 
 painting!" 
 
 "Well, and why not, if sign-painting pays? You 
 take my advice, Ned; get the 'sugar' first, the fame 
 will come at its leisure. Sign-painting is honest any- 
 way, and more remunerative than felling trees, you 
 bet." 
 
 " That may be," replied the younger man, balancing 
 his axe in his strong hands, " and more intellectual, I 
 suppose; but, by George, there's a pleasure in every 
 ringing blow with the axe, and the scent of the fresh 
 pine- wood is sweeter than the smell of your oil-paints." 
 
 " Pot-paints, Ned, two bits a pot. We don't run to 
 tube-paints in this outfit." 
 
 "Well, pot-paints if you like; but even so you are 
 not making a fortune. We can't always sell those 
 panoramas of yours, you know, even at a dollar a 
 foot." 
 
 " That's your fault, Ned ; you've no eye for the latent 
 merits of . / pictures, and therefore make a shocking 
 mess of the auctioneer's department. However, I am 
 not wedded to my art. If lumbering and painting 
 don't pay, what do you say to real estate?" and as he 
 spoke, Chance put his " fixins" together and proceeded 
 to lock up the studio for the night, 
 
 "Real estate! Why, fifty per cent of the inhabitants 
 of the Queen City are real estate agents professionally, 
 and most of the others are amateurs. Be a little ori- 
 ginal, outside your art anyway, old fellow. I don't 
 
u 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO 1" 
 
 want anything to do with real estate, except in acre 
 blocks beyond the city limits, and a jolly long way 
 beyond at that!" 
 
 "Is that so?" asked a mellow voice from behind the 
 last speaker. " Then, my dear sir, Messrs. Dewd and 
 Cruickshank can fix you right away. What do you 
 say to a little farm on the gorge, fairly swarming with 
 game, and admirably suited for either stock raising or 
 grain growing?" 
 
 "Viticulture, market-gardening, or a gentleman's 
 park! Better go the whole hog at once, Cruickshank," 
 laughed Chance, turning round to greet the new-comer, 
 a dark, stout man with an unlit cigar stuck in the 
 comer of his mouth. 
 
 " You must have your joke, Mr. Chance; but the farm 
 is really a gem for all that, and with the certainty of 
 a large advance in price this summer, a man could not 
 do better than buy." 
 
 " What, is the farm better than a claim in Ophir?" 
 laughed Chance. 
 
 "Ah, well, that is another matter!" said Cruickshank. 
 " The farm is a gilt-edged investment. There is, of 
 course, just a suspicion of speculation in all gold-mining 
 operations, though I can't see where the risk is in such 
 claims as those you mention. By the way, have you 
 finished the map?" 
 
 " Yes, here it is," replied the artist, producing a roll 
 from under his arm, and partly opening it to show it 
 to his questioner. "I call it rather a neat thing in 
 sign-boards, don't you? I know I've used up all my 
 brightest colours upon it." 
 
 "Yes, it will do; and though I don't suppose Williams 
 Creek is quite that colour," laughed Cruickshank, " I 
 am happy to say that our reports are not over-coloured, 
 
 W 
 
 
THE GOLD FEVER. 
 
 18 
 
 even if our map is. Do you know the Duke of Kent, 
 Mr. Corbett?" 
 
 " No. Who is the Duke of Kent ? I'd no idea that 
 we had any aristocrats out here." 
 
 "Oh, the duke's is only a fancy title; most titles are 
 that way in the far west." 
 
 " My sentiments exactly, Colonel Cruickshank," re- 
 plied Corbett; and anyone inclined to quarrel with him 
 might have thought that Corbett dwelt just a thought 
 too long upon the " colonel." 
 
 But Cruickshank was not inclined to quarrel with a 
 man who stood six feet two, and girthed probably forty 
 inches round the chest, and who was reported, more- 
 over, to be master of quite a snug little sum in good 
 English gold. 
 
 "The Duke of Kent has a claim alongside those 
 which we bonded last fall, and he tells me that he has 
 already refused a hundred thousand dollars for a half 
 share in it." 
 
 "A hundred thousand dollars for a half share! 
 Great Ceesar's ghost, why, you could buy half Victoria 
 for the money!" cried Chance. 
 
 " Well, not quite, but a good deal of it, and yet I've 
 no doubt but that we have quite as rich claims amongst 
 those we offer for sale. How can it be otherwise? 
 They lie side by side on the same stream." 
 
 " Have you seen any of these claims yourself, colo- 
 nel?" asked Corbett. 
 
 " Every one of them, my good sir. My clients are 
 for the most part my own countrymen, and you may 
 bet that I won't let them be done by any beastly Yank." 
 
 " Civil to you, Steve," laughed Corbett. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Mr. Chance, but there are Ame- 
 ricans cmd Americans; and you can understand that a 
 
16 
 
 **GOLD, GOLD IN OARIBOOl' 
 
 K'. 
 
 man who has spent the hest years of his life wearing 
 ihe Queen's uniform feels hotly about some of the 
 frauds practised upon tender-feet by Calif omian bilks." 
 
 "Why, certainly; don't apologize. I suppose there 
 are a few honest men and a good many rogues in every 
 nation. Did you say you had seen the claims yourself? 
 I thought you were in Victoria in the fall. 
 
 "No; Dewd and I were up together. I came down 
 and he stayed there. There is big money in them. 
 Change your minds, gentlemen, and give up art for 
 gold-mining." 
 
 "No, thanks; I think not," replied Corbett. 
 
 "No! Well, you know best. Good-day to you. You 
 won't take a drink, will you?" 
 
 " No, I won't spoil my appetite e^en for a cock-tail." 
 
 "So long, then!" and with a flourish of his gold- 
 headed cane, which was meant to represent a military 
 salute, the somewhat florid warrior dived through a 
 swing-door, over which was written in letters of gold, 
 "The Fashion Bar." 
 
 "Say, Corbett," remarked Chance as Cruickshank 
 disappeared, "don't you make yourself so deuced 
 disagreeable to my best customers. Cruickshank's 
 orders keep our firm in bread and cheese, and I can 
 see you want to kick the fellow all the time he is in 
 your company." 
 
 "All right, old chap; but ^ didn't say anything rude, 
 did I? If he would only drop the ' British army * and 
 * we English ' I wouldn't even want to be rude. What 
 the deuce does he care whether he gets his dollars 
 from a Britisher or a Yank?" 
 
 "Not much, you bet! But here we are. Hullo, 
 
 Phon, have you got the muck-a-muck ready?" 
 
 " You bet you! Soup all ready. Muck-a-muck heap 
 
 (mi 
 
THE GOLD FKVER. 
 
 17 
 
 good to-day yoa see;" and laughing and chattering 
 Phon dived into the tent, and rattled about the tin 
 plates and clucked as if he were calling chickens to 
 be fed. 
 
 Phon was a character in his way, and a good one at 
 that; a little wizen, yellow body, with an especially 
 long pig-tail coiled up on his head like a turban; eyes 
 and tongue which were in perpetual motion, and a 
 great affection for the two white men, who treated him 
 with the familiarity of old friendship. 
 
 " What are you in such a deuce of a hurry for to- 
 night, Phon?" asked Corbett a little later, when the 
 Chinaman rushed in to take away the remains of 
 dinner. 
 
 "S'pose I tell you, you no let me go?" replied the 
 fellow, half interrogatively. 
 
 " Go! of course I'll let you go. I couldn't help my- 
 self, I suppose. Where are you going to— the hee-hee 
 house?" 
 
 " No, no. Hee-hee house no good. No makee money 
 there. Pay all the time. Me go gamble." 
 
 "Gamble, you idiot! What, and lose all your pay 
 for a month?" 
 
 " ' Halo ' {anglice not) lose. Debbil come to me last 
 night; debbil say, 'Phon, you go gamble, you win one 
 hundred dollars.' I go win, you see." 
 
 " Please yourself. You'll see as much of that hundred 
 dollars as you did of the devil. Who's that calling?" 
 
 Phon went out of the tent for a moment and then 
 returned, and holding up the tent flap for someone to 
 enter, said: 
 
 " Colonel Cruickshank v/ant to see you. Me go now ?" 
 
 "All right! go to blazes, only don't expect us to pay 
 you any more wages if you lose. Come in, colonel." 
 
 (7«6) B 
 
18 
 
 "QOLD, <K)LD IN CARIBOO t" 
 
 ij i 
 
 "Won't you come out instead, Mr. Corbett? It's 
 better lying on the grass outside than in to-night." 
 
 " Guess he is right, Ned. Come along;, you lazy old 
 beggar!" cried Chance. And the three men in another 
 minute were all lying prone on a blanket by the 
 embers of a camp-fire, smoking their pipes and chatting 
 lazily. 
 
 Corbett's tent — a marvel of London make, convertible 
 into anything from a Turkish bath to a suit of clothes, 
 and having every merit except the essential one of 
 portability — stood upon the very edge of the encamp- 
 ment, commanding a view of the sea and the Olympic 
 Range on the farther shore. 
 
 The encampment itself was a kind of annexe of the 
 town of Victoria, standing where James Bay suburb 
 now stands, although what is to-day covered with 
 villas and threatened by an extension of the electric 
 tramway was in *62 a place of willows and wild rose- 
 bushes. 
 
 Here lived part of the floating population of Vic- 
 toria, miners en route to Cariboo, remittance-men 
 sent away from home to go to the dogs out of sight of 
 their affectionate relatives, and a good many other noisy 
 good-fellows who liked to live in their shirt sleeves in 
 the open air. 
 
 Corbett and Chance were the aristocrats of this 
 quarter, thanks to the magnificence of their abode and 
 the general " tonyness " of their outfit. In their own 
 hearts they knew that they were victims to their out- 
 fitter — that they were living where they were instead 
 of in a house merely out of regard for their tent, and 
 for those mysterious camp appliances which all fitted 
 into one another like Chinese puzzles. 
 
 That was where the shoe pinched. In a moment of 
 
TRS QOLD FEVER. 
 
 19 
 
 bett? It's 
 ■night." 
 )U lazy old 
 in another 
 et by the 
 Ld chatting 
 
 jonvertible 
 of clothes, 
 ;ial one of 
 le encamp- 
 le Olympic 
 
 lexe of the 
 Jay suburb 
 ^ered with 
 t;he electric 
 wild rose- 
 on of Vic- 
 tance-men 
 of sight of 
 ;her noisy 
 sleeves in 
 
 of this 
 abode and 
 their own 
 their out- 
 re instead 
 tent, and 
 all fitted 
 
 loment of 
 
 [pride they had pitched their tent (according to written 
 [Instructions) and unpacked their " kitchen outfits," and 
 \they had never been able to repack them. 
 
 It was all very well to advertise the things as pack- 
 ing compactly into a case two feet by one foot six 
 [inches, but it required an expert to pack them ; and 
 JO, unless they were minded to abandon their " fixings," 
 bhey had to stay by them. Therefore they stayed, and 
 lid they preferred the open air, even when it rained, 
 it sometimes does even on Vancouver Island. 
 Later on they learnt better, and were consoled fol* 
 bheir losses by the sight of the hundred and one " in- 
 lispensable requisites of a camp life" cast away by 
 reary pilgrims all along the Frazer river road. It is 
 pity that the gentlemen who sell camp outfits cannot 
 )e compelled to pass one year in prospecting before 
 ley enter upon their trade. 
 
 But an April evening by the Straits of Fuca, with a 
 freshly-lit pipe between your teeth, will put you in 
 Jharity even with a London outfitter. The warm air 
 ras full of the scent of the sea and the sweet smoke 
 )f the camp-fires, while the chorus of the bull-frogs 
 )unded like nature's protest against the advent of man. 
 As the darkness grew the forest seemed to close in 
 )und the intruding houses, and for a while even the 
 jstate agent was silent, oppressed by the majesty of 
 light and nature. 
 It was Corbett who broke the silence at last. 
 " Do you know that long, blue valley, Steve — you 
 m hardly see it now, — the one that goes winding 
 iway back into the mountains from the gate of the 
 \ngels?" 
 Steve nodded. He was too lazy to answer. 
 " That valley is my worst tempter. I know I ought 
 
r^ 
 
 90 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO I' 
 
 :■ 
 
 to settle here and work: keep a store and grow up 
 with the country; but I can't do it. That valley 
 haunts me with longings to follow it through the 
 blue mists to — " 
 
 " To the place where the gold comes from — eh, Ned ? 
 To the place where it lies in lumps still, not worn into 
 dust by its long journey down stream from the heart 
 of its parent mountain. Old Sobersides, you have been 
 reading your Colonist too much lately." 
 
 Ned smiled, and knocking the ashes out of his pipe, 
 began to refill it. 
 
 "How much of all these yams about gold up at 
 Antler and Williams Creek do you believe, colonel?" 
 he asked, turning to Cruickshank. "Do you really 
 think anyone ever took out fifty ounces in a day with 
 a rocker?" 
 
 " I know it, my good sir. I have seen it. When 
 Antler was found in 1860 the bed-rock was paved 
 with gold, and you could not wash a shovelful of dirt 
 that had not from five to fifty dollars' worth of dust 
 in li 
 
 " Oh, there's gold up in Cariboo, Ned, but it wants 
 finding. You've only got to go into the saloons to 
 know that there is plenty of dust for the lucky ones. 
 Fellows pay with pinches of dust for liquors whose 
 names they did not know a year ago." 
 
 " Paid, you mean, Chance," corrected Cruickshank. 
 " They are all pretty near stone-broke by now. But 
 are you longing to go and bail up gold in your silk 
 hat, Mr. Corbett?" 
 
 " I am longing to be doing something new, colonel. 
 I've taken the prevalent fever, I think, and want to 
 make one in this scrimmage. I can't sit still and see 
 band ^fter band of hard-fists going north any longer. 
 
THE GOLD FEVER. 
 
 ft 
 
 grow up 
 hat valley 
 irough the 
 
 —eh, Ned? 
 
 worn into 
 
 the heart 
 
 have been 
 
 )f his pipe, 
 
 fold up at 
 colonel?" 
 really 
 day with 
 
 you 
 
 it When 
 vas paved 
 [ful of dirt 
 th of dust 
 
 b it wants 
 saloons to 
 icky ones, 
 ors whose 
 
 'own life may be more profitable, perhaps, but I want 
 to be with the men." 
 
 "Bully for you, Ned! English solidity of intellect 
 for ever! Why, you villain, you're as bad a gambler 
 as Yankee Chance." 
 
 " Worse, I expect, Mr. Chance," remarked Cruick- 
 shank, eyeing the two young men critically. "You 
 would play to win, he would play for the mere fun of 
 playing" 
 
 "Which would give me the advantage," retorted 
 Corbett; "because in that case I should stop when I 
 was tired of the game." 
 
 " Never mind the argument," broke in Chance; "gam- 
 bler or no gamble , if you go I go. I'm sick of that 
 ure of the pines and the waterfall, anyway." 
 
 " So is Victoria. 'Bloomin' red clothes'-props and a 
 mill-race,' one chap called the last copy I tried to sell," 
 muttered Corbett. 
 
 " Well, why not buy a couple of those claims of 
 mine?" suggested Cruickshank. "I always like to do 
 a fellow-countryman a good turn, and it would really 
 be a genuine pleasure to me to put you two into a 
 good thing." 
 
 "How many have you left, Colonel Cruickshank?" 
 He could not help it for the life of him, but the moment 
 Cruickshank became more than ordinarily affectionate 
 and open-hearted Corbett put on the colonel, and, as 
 it were, came on guard. He was angry with himself 
 directly afterwards for doing so, but he could no more 
 help it than a man can help pul'ng himself together 
 when he hears the warning of the rattlesnake. 
 
 "Only three, Mr. Corbett; and I doubt whether I can 
 hold those till to-morrow morning. I am to meet a 
 man in town at nine about them." 
 
9a 
 
 •'GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO I" 
 
 I't; 
 
 
 
 m ! 
 
 
 "What do you want for the three?" 
 
 "As a more matter of curiosity/" put in Chance. 
 
 " Well, lot mo see. They are ' lOO-foot' claims, right 
 alon<;si(le the placea wliere the big hauls were made 
 hust ycnr; but they are the last, and as you are an 
 Englishman and a friend — " 
 
 "Oh, }ilea.se be good enough to treat this as a purely 
 l)usiness matter," ejaculated Corbett, blushing up to the 
 tiMuplos, whilst anyone looking at Cruickshank might 
 for the moment have thought that his speech had had 
 exactly the efl'ect he intended it to have. 
 
 " Well, say two thousand dollars apiece; that is cheap 
 and fair." 
 
 " Two thousand dollars apiece 1 What a chap you 
 are to chart', Cruickshank!" cried Chance, breaking in. 
 "Do you take us for millionaires?*' 
 
 " In embryo if you buy my shares, certainly, my dear 
 sir. 
 
 " Perhaps, But look here, say a thousand dollars 
 apiece, half cash, and half when we make our pile." 
 
 "Can't do it; but I'll knock off a hundred dollars 
 from each claim, as we are friends." 
 
 " The market value is two thousand dollars, you say, 
 Colonel Cruickshank (my dear Chance, do leave this 
 to me), and you have yourself inspected these claims?" 
 
 "Certainly." 
 
 "And they are good workable claims, adjoining those 
 you spoke of?" 
 
 "Undoubtedly, that gives them their principal 
 value." 
 
 " Very well then, I'll buy ih^ three. Here is a hundred 
 dollars to bind our bargain. We'll settle the rest to- 
 morrow. Now, let me give you a drink." 
 
 " Thank you. Are the claims to stand in your name ? ** 
 
A '* OILT'EDOED SPECULATION. 
 
 89 
 
 Chance, 
 aims, right 
 woro made 
 '^ou are an 
 
 as a pUHily 
 g up to the 
 ank might 
 5h had liad 
 
 at is cheap 
 
 chap you 
 'Caking in. 
 
 r 
 
 , ray dear 
 
 tid dollars 
 ir pile." 
 ed dollars 
 
 s, you say, 
 leave this 
 3 claims?" 
 
 ling those 
 
 principal 
 
 I hundred 
 e rest to- 
 
 rname?" 
 
 
 ' In Cliance's, Phon's, and mine. How will that do, 
 iteve?" 
 
 "Settle it your own way; if you have gone crazy 
 I suppose I must humour you. But there is a good deal 
 owing to our firm from yours, colonel, isn't there?" 
 
 '* Of course. That can be set oft' against a part of the 
 sum due as payment for the claims. Good-night, Mr. 
 Corbctt. Thank you for the confidence yo!i show in 
 nic. Treat a gentleman like a gentleman, and aa honest 
 nifin like an honest man, say I " 
 
 " And a thief or a business man like a thief or a 
 business man,"muttered Chance,asCruick8hank walked 
 awny. " Oil, Ned, Nod! What a lot nature wasted on 
 your nuiscles which she had much better have put into 
 your head!" 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 A "gilt-edged" speculation. 
 
 NED, were you drunk last night, or am I dream- 
 ing?" asked Chance next morning, as the two 
 sat over their breakfast, while the canoes of the early 
 Indian fishers stole out along the edges of the great 
 kelp beds. 
 
 It was a lovely scene upon which Corbett's tent 
 looked out, but Chance at the moment had no eyes for 
 the blue water, or the glories of the snow range beyond, 
 all he could think of was " three claims at two thou- 
 sand dollars apiece." 
 
 " Neither, that I am aware of, Steve. You eat as if 
 you had all your faculties about you, and I've no head 
 aciie." 
 
J 
 
 'fr- 
 
 !. -'^ 
 
 24 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO t' 
 
 ** Then you did not buy three claims from Cruick 
 shank at two thousand dollars apiece?" 
 
 " Yes, I did; and why not?" 
 
 'Where is the money to come from?* 
 
 " I'll see to that," replied Corbett. " I am quite aware 
 that six thousand dollars is twelve hundred pounds; 
 but if you don't want to take a share in my specula- 
 tion, I propose to invest that much of my capital in the 
 venture, and even if I lose it all I shall still have some- 
 thing left, besides my muscles, thank God. You two, 
 Phon and yourself, can work for me on wages if you 
 like, or we'll make some other arrangement to keep the 
 party together." 
 
 For a minute or two Chance said nothing, and then 
 be began laughing quietly to himsell 
 
 "Sr.y, Ned, you took scarlatina pretty bad when 
 you were a kiddy, didn't you?" 
 
 "I don't remember, old chap. Why do you ask?" 
 
 "And whooping-cough, and measles, and chicken-pox, 
 and now its gold fever, and my stars isn't it a virulent 
 attack?" and Chance broke out laughing afresh. 
 
 " I don't see," began Corbett, growing rather red in 
 the face. 
 
 "Oh, no; you don't see what ail this has to do with 
 me," interrupted Chance, "and it's infernal impertinence 
 on my part to criticise your actions, and if I wasn't so 
 small you would very likely punch my head. I know 
 all that. But, you see, we two are partners, and I am 
 not going to dissolve partnership because I think you 
 are taking bigger risks than you ought to. If you put 
 up three thousand dollars I will put up as much, and 
 part of it can come out of the money owing to the firm." 
 
 "But why do this if you think the risk too big?" 
 asked Gorbett 
 
 'A 
 
 I 
 
k "gilt-edged" speculation. 
 
 25 
 
 m Cruick 
 
 lite aware 
 i pounds; 
 y specula- 
 ital in the 
 ave some- 
 You two, 
 es if you 
 ) keep the 
 
 and then 
 
 )ad when 
 
 lask?" 
 ;ken-pox, 
 virulent 
 sh. 
 Br red in 
 
 do with 
 jrtineuce 
 vasn'fc so 
 
 I know 
 nd I am 
 link you 
 you put 
 ich, and 
 le firm." 
 X) big?" 
 
 Why ask questions, Ned? I feel like taking the 
 isk ; I am a Yankee, and therefore a natural gambler. 
 You of course are not, are you? And then it's spring- 
 linie, and from twenty-three to the other end of 
 iihreescore years and ten is a long, long time ; and even 
 ^ we ' bust,' there'll be lots of time to build again. So 
 lire will go halves, the third claim to be held in Phon's 
 liame, and Phon to work on wages." 
 x; "Let us have old Phon in. Phon! Phon!" shouted 
 iPorbett. 
 
 I The Chinaman, who was cleaning the tin plates by 
 |k creek hard by, came slowly towards them. 
 % " Well, Phon, did you lose all your dollars last night ? " 
 iisked his master. 
 
 ! " Me tell you debbil say me win — debbil know, you 
 fcet," replied Phon coolly. 
 ;} "And did you win?" 
 
 '■i "Me win a hundred dollars — look!" and the little 
 liDaan held out a roll of dirty notes, amounting to some- 
 jthing more than the sum named. 
 I " You were in luck, Phon. 'Spose I were you, I no 
 go gamble any more," remarked Corbett, dropping into 
 that pigeon English, which people seem to think best 
 'adapted to the comprehension of the Chinaman. 
 
 " Oh yes, you go gamble too. Debbils bodder me very 
 
 bad last night. They say you go gamble, Chance he 
 
 ;o gamble, Phon he go gamble too. All go gamble to- 
 
 edder. And then debbil he show me gold, gold, — so 
 
 uch gold me no able to carry it. Where you goin' 
 
 plow?" 
 
 I "I guess your friends, the devils, might have told 
 ^ou that too," remarked Chance. "Don't you know?" 
 " No, me no savey. You tell me." 
 ' Corbett and myself are going up to Cariboo min- 
 

 91 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO I" 
 
 ing, and if you like you can come as cook, or you can 
 come and work on wages in our claims. How would 
 you like that?" 
 
 "Me come, all-lite me come; only you give me one 
 little share in the claims — you let me put in one hun- 
 dred dollars I win last night." 
 
 ' Better keep what you've got and not gamble any 
 more," replied Corbett kindly. 
 
 "Halo! Halo keep him. 'Spose you not sell me 
 share I go gamble again to-night." 
 
 ''■ Better let him have his way, Ned. Let the whole 
 crowd go in together, ' sink or swim.' " 
 
 " Very well, Phon, then you will come." 
 
 " You bet you, Misser Corbett. Who you 'spose cook 
 for you 'spose I no come?" And having proposed this 
 final conundrum, Phon retired again to his kitchen. 
 
 "Rum, the way in which he seemed to know all 
 about our movements, Ned," remarked Chance, when 
 the Chinaman had done. 
 
 " Oh, he overheard what we said last night, or at 
 breakfast this morning," replied Corbett. 
 
 " He wasn't here last night, and he was down by the 
 stream whilst we were at breakfast." 
 
 "All right, old man, perhaps his 'debbil' told him. 
 It doesn't much matter anyway. Did you see this 
 piece in the Colonist V 
 
 "About ns? No. Read it out." 
 
 "'We understand that Colonel Cruickshank, the 
 Napoleon of Victorian finance, the mammoth hustler 
 of the Pacific coast, has determined to conduct those 
 gentlemen who have bought his bonded claims to the 
 fortunes which await them. This additional proof of 
 the colonel's belief in the property which he offers for 
 sale should ens^ure a keen competition for the one 
 
\ 
 
 A "oilt-edged" speculation. 
 
 27 
 
 )r you can 
 ow would 
 
 ire me one 
 L one hun- 
 
 imble any 
 
 t sell me 
 
 the whole 
 
 3pose cook 
 posed this 
 kitchen, 
 know all 
 tnce, when 
 
 ight, or at 
 
 •wn by the 
 
 told him. 
 u see this 
 
 hank, the 
 th hustler 
 luct those 
 ims to the 
 1 proof of 
 offers for 
 r the one 
 
 im still left upon his hands, which we understand 
 1^11 be raffled for this afternoon at 4 p.m. at Smith's 
 li^oon. Tickets, ten dollars each. We are informed 
 tpit amongst the purchasers of claims in the Cruick- 
 S^nk reserve are an English gentleman largely in- 
 tljrested in the lumber business, and an American artist 
 rapidly rising into public notice.' " 
 
 "What cheer, my lumber king!" laughed Chance as 
 Qprbett laid down the paper. " These journalists are 
 ^nderf ul fellows, but I suspect most of that paragraph 
 ifEs inspired and paid for by the ' mammoth hustler.' 
 By the way, if it is true that he means to personally 
 opnduct a party to Williams Creek, it does really look 
 a| if he had some belief in the claims." 
 
 "Yes, IF he means to; but I expect that is simply 
 Ip draw people to his raffle this afternoon." 
 
 "Probably; but if he were to go up to Williams 
 Creek we might as well go up with him. You see, he 
 i^ travelled along the trail before." 
 
 " Well, I'll see about that, and make any arrange- 
 ments I can for getting up to Cariboo, if you will try 
 to get our accounts settled up, Steve. I'm no good at 
 figures, as you know." 
 
 "That's what!" replied Chance laconically; and the 
 two young men got upon their legs and prepared t^ 
 start on their day's business. 
 
 It will be as well here to enter upon a short explana- 
 tion of the law as it then stood in British Columbia 
 with regard to the bonding of claims. Experience 
 had shown that in the upper country, early winters 
 and late springs, with their natural accompaniment of 
 deep snows, made mining impossible for about half the 
 year. In consequence of this a law had been passed 
 enabling miners to " bond " claims taken up late in the 
 
i 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO 1" 
 
 fall until the next spring. Upon claims so bonded it 
 was not necessary to do any work until the 1st of June 
 of the ensuing year, so that from November to June 
 the claims lay safe under the wing of the law; but 
 should their owners neglect to put in an appearance or 
 fail to commence work upon the 1st of June, they for- 
 feited all right to the claims, which could then be 
 "jumped" or seized upoii by the first comer. 
 
 It was under this law that Corbett and Chance had 
 bought, so that it was imperatively necessary that they 
 should reach their claims by the 1st of June; and although 
 there was still ample time in which to make the journey, 
 there was no time to waste. The Cariboo migration 
 had already begun, and every day saw fresh bands 
 of hard-fists leave Victoria for the mines. Already 
 the gamblers had gone, the whisky trains and other 
 pack trains had started, and the drain upon the stock 
 of full-grown manhood in Victoria was easily notice- 
 able. It was no vain boast whioh the miners made 
 that the men of Cariboo were the pick of the men of 
 their day. Physically, at any rate, it would have been 
 hard indeed to find a body of men tougher in fibre 
 and more recklessly indifferent to hardships than the 
 pioneers who pushed their way through the Frazer 
 valley to the gold-fields beyond. In that crowd cheri) 
 was no room for the stripling or the old man. The race 
 for gold upon the Frazer was one in which only strong 
 men of full age could live even for the first lap. 
 
 And this was the crowd which Corbett and Chance 
 sought to join. To some men the mere idea of a railway 
 journey, entered upon without due consideration and 
 ample forethought, is fraught with terrors. Luckily 
 neither Corbett nor Chance were men of this sort. 
 Chance was a Yankee to the tips of his fingers, and 
 
^**v' 
 
 A "gilt-edged" speculation. 
 
 29 
 
 3 80 bonded it 
 he 1st of June 
 mber to June 
 the law; but 
 appearance or 
 unr, they for- 
 ould then be 
 ner. 
 
 1 Chance had 
 ary that they 
 and although 
 e the journey, 
 )00 migration 
 
 fresh bands 
 les. Already 
 IS and other 
 Don the stock 
 easily notice- 
 niners made 
 I the men of 
 'd have been 
 
 lor in fibre 
 ips than the 
 
 the Frazer 
 crowd iiher.j 
 n. The race 
 
 only strong 
 lap. 
 
 nd Chance 
 
 )f a railway 
 
 :?ration and 
 Luckily 
 this sort. 
 
 ngers, and 
 
 ll^d therefore no idea of distance or fear of travel 
 I'he world was nearly big enough for him, and he 
 cared just as little about " crossing the herring-pond " 
 18 he did about embarking on a ride in a 'bus. As for 
 Corbett, nature had made him a nomad — one of those 
 strangely restless beings, who, having a lovely home, 
 and knowing it to be lovely, still long for constant 
 cliaTige, and circle the world with tireless feet, only to 
 bring home the report that "after all England is the 
 only place fit for a fellow to live in." The odd part of 
 it all is, that that being their conviction, most of these 
 Wiuiderers contrive to live out of England for three 
 parts of their lives. 
 
 It was no wonder, then, that when Corbett and 
 Chance met again at dusk everything had been, as 
 Chance said, " fixed right away." 
 
 "It's a true bill about Cruickshank, old man," 
 Corbett said. " And if you can get the bills paid and 
 oifr kit packed he wants us to start with him on the 
 Umatilla for Westminster the day after to-morrow." 
 " I don't know about getting the bills paid," replied 
 J Chance. "A good many fellows who owe us money 
 I appear to have gone before to Cariboo, but I reckon 
 ^^we must look upon that as the opening of an account 
 4 to our credit in the new country." 
 I " Not much of an account to draw upon; but I sup- 
 ;i.pose it can't be helped. I believe, though, that to do 
 "I'l^the thing properly we ought both to get stone-broke 
 I before starting," remarked Corbett. 
 
 "That will come later. Hullo, Cruickshank! what 
 is in the wind now?" cried Steve, turning to the new- 
 comer. 
 
 " Gold, g'^ld, nothing but gold. Chance. But I say, 
 gentlemen, are those your packs?" asked the colonel, 
 
; I 
 
 80 
 
 *'<IOLD, GOLD m CARIBOO I' 
 
 pointing to two small mountains of luggage which 
 nearly filled the interior of the tent. 
 
 "Yes. That is Chance's pack, and this is mine. 
 There will be a sort of joint-stock pack made up 
 to-morrow of the kitchen stuff and the tent. And 
 I think that will be all." 
 
 "And you think that will be all, Mr. Corbett?" 
 repeated Cruickshank. " You are a strong man ; can 
 you lift that pack?" and he pointed to the biggest of 
 the two. 
 
 " Oh yes, easily; carry it a mile if necessary," replied 
 Corbett, swinging the great bundle up on to his 
 shoulders. 
 
 "You are a stout fellow," admitted Cruickshank 
 admiringly; "but hasn't it occurred to you that you 
 may have to carry all you want for a good many 
 miles? And even if you can do that, who is to carry 
 the joint-stock pack? Not Phon, surely?" 
 
 " Well, but won't there be any pack ponies?" asked 
 Corbett. 
 
 "For hire on the road, do you mean? Certainly 
 not." 
 
 " All right, then," replied Corbett, after a minute or 
 two spent in solemnly and somewhat sadly contem- 
 plating all the neatly-packed camp equipage. " I can 
 do with two blankets and a tin pannikin if it comes 
 to that. Can't you, Steve?" 
 
 "A tin pannikin and blanket goes," answered 
 Chance. "To blazes with all English outfits anyway!" 
 
 "Well, I don't know about that," put in Cruick- 
 shank, who seemed hardly as well pleased at his com- 
 rade's readiness to forswear comfort as might have 
 been expected. " I thought that yoc. fellows might like 
 to take a few comforts along with you, so I had men- 
 
A «GILT-£DGED* SPECULATION. 
 
 31 
 
 ry," replied 
 on to his 
 
 ruickshank 
 
 u that you 
 
 2food many 
 
 is to carry 
 
 ies?" asked 
 
 Certainly 
 
 ' minute or 
 ly contem- 
 e. " I can 
 if it comes 
 
 answered 
 anyway!" 
 n Cruick- 
 rt his com- 
 ight have 
 might like 
 had men- 
 
 y arranged a way in which we might combine 
 lasure with profit." 
 
 " Pleasure with profit by all means, my boy. Unfold 
 ur scheme, colonel ; we are with you," cried Chance. 
 ••Well, stores are terribly high up in Cariboo, 
 isky is about the only thing these packers think of 
 king up to the mines, and if you fellows had the 
 in I could easily buy a little train of cayuses down 
 Westminster pretty cheap, and load them up with 
 rt" which would pay you cent per cent, and between 
 the management of a little train like that would be 
 $ mere nothing." 
 
 - •' How about packing? You cain't throw a diamond 
 fcitch by instinct," remarked Chance, who knew a little 
 om hearsay of the life of the road. 
 •' Oh, I can throw the hitch, and so I guess can your 
 .eathen, and we'll deuced soon teach both of you to 
 lake the on-side if you are wanted to." 
 •'How much would such a train cost?" 
 •• The ponies ought not to cost more than fifty dollars 
 .piece; as to the stores, of course it depends upon what 
 
 tou choose to take. The ponies will carry about two 
 undred pounds apiece, if they are good ones." 
 I " What do you say to it, Steve?" asked Ned. 
 f " Seems a good business," replied Chance, " and we 
 inay as well put our last dollars into a pack-train as 
 leave them in the bank or chuck them into the Frazer. 
 A pack-train goes." 
 
 And so it was settled that the two friends should 
 invest the balance of their funds in a pack-train anu 
 stores for Cariboo. The venture looked a promising 
 one, with no possibility of failure or loss, and even if 
 things went wrong the boys would only be stone-broke ; 
 and who cares whether he is stone-broke or not at 
 
r^^ 
 
 82 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO I' 
 
 ♦^enty-three, in a new country with no one dependent 
 upon him ? 
 
 It was only eighteen months before that Edward 
 Corbett had left home, a home in which it was part of 
 tlie duty of about five different human beings to see 
 that Master Edward wanted for nothing. At about 
 the same time one of the finest houses in New York 
 would have been disturbed to its very foundations if 
 it were suspected that Mr. Steve Chance wanted for 
 any of the luxuries of the nineteenth century, and 
 yet here were Steve Chance and Ned Corbett, their 
 last dollar invested in a doubtful venture, their razors 
 abandoned, their toilet necessaries reduced to one cake 
 of soap and a towel between two (Cruickshank con- 
 demned the habit of washing altogether upon the road), 
 and their whole stock of household goods reduced to 
 two light packs, to be carried mile after mile upon 
 their own strong shoulders. There was daily labour 
 ahead of them such as a criminal would hardly have 
 earned for punishment at home, there was a certainty 
 before them of bad food, restless nights, thirst, hunger, 
 and utter discomfort, and yet this life was of their own 
 choosing, and a smile hovered round the lips of each 
 of them as the pipes dropped out of their mouths and 
 they turned over to sleep. 
 
 As for "gold," the prize which both of them ap- 
 peared to be making all these sacrifices for, neither of 
 the boys, oddly enough, had thought of it that night. 
 With Phon it was different, but then he was a celes- 
 tial. He played for the stakes. Both the whites played, 
 though in different ways, for the fun of the game. 
 
cie dependent 
 
 ;hat Edward 
 b was part of 
 aeings to see 
 J. At about 
 1 New York 
 mndations if 
 ) wanted for 
 century, and 
 brbett, their 
 , their razors 
 I to one cake 
 kshank con- 
 )on the road), 
 s reduced to 
 r mile upon 
 daily labour 
 hardly have 
 s a certainty 
 lirst, hunger, 
 of their own 
 lips of each 
 mouths and 
 
 of them ap- 
 »r, neither of 
 b that night, 
 was a celes- 
 hites played, 
 16 game. 
 
 A LIITLS GAME OF POKER. S8 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 A LITTLE GAME OF POKER. 
 
 WELL, Ned, how do our fellow-passengers strike 
 you ? This is a pretty hard crowd, isn't it ?" asked 
 dbance, as his eyes wandered over the mob of men of 
 «tery nationality, who were jostling one another on 
 1|^rd the steamer Umatilla, ten minutes after she 
 li|d left Victoria for New Westminster. 
 
 " Yes, they look pretty tough, most of them," assented 
 Obrbett; " but a three-weeks' beard, a patch in the seat 
 oi your pants, and a coat of sun-tan, will bring you 
 ibwn to the same level, Steve. Civilized man reverts 
 naturally to barbarism as soon as he escapes from the 
 tfiilor and the hair-dresser." 
 
 ■ "That's what, sonny! And I believe the only dif- 
 Iwrence between a white man and a siwash, is that one 
 h$s had more sun and less soap than the other." 
 
 " Oh, hang it, no! I draw the line there," cried Cor- 
 Ipltt. " But look, there go the gamblers already;" and 
 Ifed pointed to a little group which had gathered to- 
 gither aft, the leading spirit amongst them appearing 
 i^ be a dark, overdressed person, who was inviting 
 everybody at the top of his voice to " Chip in and take 
 ftfdrink." 
 
 " They don't mean to lose much time, do they?" re- 
 «pu-ked Chance. "And, by the way, do you see that the 
 *ittiammoth hustler,' our own colonel, is among them?" 
 
 " And seems to know every rascal in the gang," mut- 
 tered Corbett. 
 
 "Come and look on, Ned, and don't growl. You 
 
 (796) 
 
r 
 
 m 
 
 H 
 
 "GOLD, OOLD IN CARIBOO !" 
 
 don't expect a real-estate agent to be a saint, do you ?** 
 remonstrated Chance. 
 
 " Not I. I don't care a cent for cards. You go if 
 you like. I'll just loaf and look at the scenery." 
 
 " As you please. I don't take much stock in scenery 
 unless I have painted it myself, and even that sours on 
 me sometimes;" and with this frank and quaintly ex- 
 pressed confession, Steve Chance turned and piished 
 his way through the crowd to a place behind Cruick- 
 shank, who welcomed him effusively, and introduced 
 him to his friends. 
 
 Ned saw the artist gulp down what looked like a 
 doctor's prescription, and light up a huge black cigar, 
 and then turning his back upon the noisy expectorating 
 crowd, he leant upon the bulwarks and forgot all 
 about it. 
 
 Before his eyes stretched a vast field of blue water ; 
 blue water without a ripple upon it, save such as the 
 steamer made, or the diving " cultus " duck, which the 
 boat almost ran down, before the bird woke and saw 
 its danger. Here and there on this blue field were 
 groups of islands, wooded to the water's edge, and in- 
 liabited only by the breeding ducks and a few deer. 
 As yet no one owned these islands, and, except for an 
 occasional fishing Indian, no one had ever set foot on 
 most of them. Everything spoke oi rest and dreamful 
 ease. What birds there were, wore oilent and asleep, 
 rocked only in their slumbers hy the swell from the 
 passing boat, or else following in her wake on gliding 
 wings which scarcely seemed to stir. There was no 
 wind to fret the sea, or stir an idle sail. Nature 
 was asleep in the spring sunlight, her calm con- 
 trasting strangely with the noise, and passion, and 
 unrest on board the tiny boat which was puffing 
 
A LrrrLB oami of poker. 
 
 85 
 
 ■'■i 
 
 and churning its way through the still waters of the 
 straita 
 
 As for Ned, his ears were as deaf to the oaths and 
 noise behind him as his eyes were blind to the calm 
 beauty beneath them. His eyes were wide open, but 
 his mind was not looking through them. As a matter 
 of fact Ned Corbett, the real Ned Corbett, was just 
 then day-dreaming somewhere on the banks of the 
 Severn. 
 
 " Can you spare me a light, sir?" 
 
 This was the first soucd that broke in upon his 
 dreams, and Ned felt instinctively in his waistcoat 
 pocket, and handed the intruder the matches which he 
 found there. 
 
 " Thank you. I was fairly clemmed for a smoke." 
 
 "Clemmed" for a smoke! It was odd, but the dialect 
 was the dialect of Ned's dream still, and as he looked 
 at the speaker, a broad burly fellow, who evidently had 
 made up his mind to have a chat, a pouch of tobacco 
 was thrust out to him with the words: "Won't you take 
 a fill yourself. It's pretty good baccy, and it ought to 
 be. I had it sent to me all the way from the Wyle 
 Cop." 
 
 " The Wyle Copl" ejaculated Ned. " I thought there 
 was only one Wyle Cop. Where do you come from, 
 then?" 
 
 The stranger's face broadened into an honest grin. 
 
 "What part do I come from? Surely you ought to 
 guess. Dunno yo' know a Shropshire mon, when yo' 
 sees un?" he added, dropping into his native dialect, 
 and holding out to Corbett a hand too broad to get a 
 good grip of, and as hard as gun-metal. 
 
 Ned took the proffered hand eagerly. The sound 
 of the home dialect stirred every chord in his heart. 
 
 l^i' I 
 
f 
 
 \l^ 
 
 36 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO.' 
 
 "How did you know I was Shropshire?" he aaked, 
 laughing. 
 
 " How did I know? Well, I heard your friend call 
 you Corbett, and that and your yellow head and blue 
 eyes were enough for me. But say," he continued, re- 
 suming the Yankee twang which he had acquired in 
 many a western mining camp, "if that young man 
 over there is any account to you, you'd better go and 
 see after him. They'll skin him clean in another half 
 hour unless he owns the Bank of England." 
 
 Corbett's eyes involuntarily followed those of his 
 newly- found friend, and he started as they rested upon 
 Steve Chance, who now sat nervously chewing at the 
 end of an unlit cigar in the middle of the poker players. 
 
 " Your friend ain't a bad player, but he ain't old 
 enough for that crowd," remarked Roberts; and so 
 saying he pushed a way for himself and his brother 
 Salopian through the crowd to the back of Chance's 
 chair. 
 
 Except for the addition of Chance, and another 
 youngish man who appeared to be at least half-drunk, 
 the party of poker players was the same which sat 
 down to play when the Umatilla left the Victoria 
 wharf. 
 
 Cruickshank faced Chance, and the same noisy dark 
 fellow, who had been anxious to assuage everyone's 
 thirst in the morning, appeared to be still ready to 
 stand drinks and cigars. But the little crowd was 
 quieter than it had been in the morning. The players 
 had settled down to business, 
 
 "How deuced like Cruickshank that fellow is!" 
 whispered Corbett to Roberts. 
 
 "Which?" answered his friend. "There are two 
 Cruickshanks playing — Dan and Bub." 
 
 m 
 
 s 
 c 
 
 f 
 I 
 
 I 
 f 
 
bo 
 
 A UTTLE QAMB OF POKER. 
 
 37 
 
 "But is the colonel any relation to the other?" 
 
 "I do not know which you call the colonel: never 
 heard him called by that name before; but that's Bub" 
 (pointing to the ringleader of the party), " and that's 
 Dan" (pointing to the colonel). " Some say they are 
 brothers, some say they are cousins. Anyway, I know 
 one is a scoundrel." 
 
 " The deuce you do. Which of them?" But his in- 
 quiries were cut short and his attention diverted by 
 the action of a n*».w-comer, who just then pushed past 
 him with a curt, " 'Scuse me, sir." 
 
 " Let him through," whispered Roberts. " I tipped 
 him the wink, and if you let him alone he'll fix them." 
 
 Ned was mystified, but aid as he was bid. Indeed 
 it was too late to attempt to do otherwise, for the last- 
 joined in that little crowd, a withered gray man, whose 
 features looked as if they had been hardened by a 
 hundred years of rough usage, had quietly forced his 
 way to the front until he had reached a seat at Steve 
 Chance's elbow. It was noticeable that though the 
 crowd was by no means tolerant of others who tried 
 to usurp a front place amongst them, it gave way by 
 common consent to the new-comer, who was moreover 
 specially honoured with a nod and a smile from each 
 of the Cruickshanks. 
 
 Steve only seemed inclined to resent the old man's 
 familiarity, and for any effect it had he might as well 
 have hidden his resentment. 
 
 " Pretty new to this coast, ain't you, sir?" remarked 
 Mr. Rampike, after he had watched the game in silence 
 for some minutes. 
 
 "Yes, I've only been out from the East a year," 
 replied Steve shortly, as he examined his hand. 
 
 "Bin losing quite a bit, haven't you?" persisted his 
 
 if-l !. 
 
 B 
 
 it- 
 
 
 
 .: II 
 
 ' 
 
if' 
 
 I 
 
 I ii 
 
 81 "GOLD, GOLD IN OiLAIBOOl" 
 
 tormentor. Steve growled out that he had lost " some," 
 and turned his back on old Rampike with an emphatic 
 rudeness which would have silenced most men. 
 
 "'Scuse me, sir, one moment," remarked Rampike 
 utterly unabashed, and half rising to inspect Steve's 
 hand over his shoulder. 
 
 A glance seemed to satisfy him. 
 
 " Who cut those cards?" he sung out. 
 
 "Dan Cruickshank," answered a voice from the 
 crowd. 
 
 " Who dole those cards?" he persisted 
 
 " Bub Cruickshank," replied the voice. 
 
 "Then, young man, you pass;" and without stirring 
 a muscle of his face he coolly took from the astounded 
 Steve four queens, and threw them upon the table. 
 
 For a moment Steve sat open-mouthed, utterly as- 
 tounded by his adviser's impudence, and when he tried 
 to rise and give vent to his feelings, Corbett's heavy 
 hand was on his shoulder and kept him down. 
 
 Meanwhile an angry growl rose from the gamblers, 
 but it was drowned at once in the laugh of the crowd, 
 as without a sign of feeling of any kind, or a single 
 comment, old Rampike slowly pulled from a pocket 
 under his coat-tails an old, strangely-fashioned six- 
 shooter, which he began to overhaul in the casual dis- 
 trait manner of one who takes a mild interest in some 
 weapon of a remote antiquity. 
 
 One by one, as the old hard-fist played with his ugly 
 toy, those who objected to his intervention found that 
 they had business elsewhere, so that when at last he 
 let down the hammer, and replaced his "gun" under 
 his coat-tails, Steve and the two Shropshiremen alone 
 remained near him. Glancing round for a moment, 
 the old man came as near smiling as a man could with 
 
 1 
 
A LITTLE GAME OF POKER. 
 
 features such as his, and then recovering himself he 
 turned to Steve and remarked: 
 
 "This ain't no concern of mine, mister, but my 
 pardner there, Roberts, I guess he takes some stock in 
 you and he called me, so you'll 'sense my interfering, 
 but ef you should happen to play agen with California 
 bilks, you mout sometimes go your pile on a poor 
 hand, but pass four aces, quicker nor lightning, if Bub 
 Cruickshank deals 'em," with which piece of advice 
 the old man retired again into his shtill, becoming, as 
 lar Bs one could judge, an absolutely silent machine 
 
 ■ the chewing of tobacco. 
 
 Chance, now that he had had time to pull himself 
 together, would gladly have had a talk with his ally; 
 but old Rampike would have none of him, and Corbett, 
 in obedience to a sign from Roberts, put his arm 
 through his friend's and carried him off to another 
 part of the ship. 
 
 " Let the old man alone," remarked Roberts, "talking 
 isn't in his line. That is my share of the business. 
 I sing and he fiddles." 
 
 "All riprht, as you please; but I say, Mr. Roberts," 
 said rhaw^, "what in thunder did your partner mean 
 by iR J •^; -ne throw down four queens?" 
 
 " Mfec V hy, that Bub Cruickshank had four kings 
 or bett'^r. '. ou don't suppose that those chaps are here 
 for their health, do you?" 
 
 "Here for their health?" 
 
 " Well, you don't suppose that they Lave come all 
 the way to British Columbia to play poker on the 
 square?" 
 
 "'iron who are the Cruickshanks?" demanded Chance. 
 
 " ii ; ij more than I know. Bub Cruickshank is 
 just about as lov'-down a gambler as there is on the 
 
 ji '. 
 
 Pi 
 
 •li 
 
 ■ ! 
 
 
40 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO 1" 
 
 I 
 
 m 
 
 m < f 
 
 I 
 
 coast; not a chap who pays up and stands drinks when 
 he is bust, like the count and that lot." 
 
 "And is the colonel his brother?" 
 
 '* Some say he is, some say he isn't. But I never knew 
 him regularly on the gambling racket before, though 
 he won a pile of money up at Williams Creek last fall. 
 
 " Then you have been in Cariboo," Corbett remarked. 
 
 "In Cariboo? Rather! I was there when Williams 
 Creek was found, and f " all that had to sing my way 
 out with a splinter in m} ', and not a nickel in my 
 
 pocket." 
 
 "How do jT^ou mean 'sing your way out?*" 
 
 " I mean just what I say. My hand went back on 
 me and swelled, so that I couldn't work, and I just had 
 to sing for my grub as I went along. Old Rampike 
 had a fiddle and used to play, and I used to make up 
 the songs and sing 'em. Perhaps you've heard the 
 * Old pack mule.' It's a great favourite at the mines: 
 
 ** Ted staked and lost the usual way, 
 But his loss he took quite cool; 
 He was near the mines, and he'd start next day 
 Biding on his old pack mule." 
 
 " Riding, riding, riding on his old pack mule," sang 
 Chance. 
 
 " Oh, you know it, do you ? Seems to me it suits 
 your case pretty well. Well, / made that;" and so say- 
 ing the poet protruded his portly bosom three inches 
 further into space, with the air of one who had done 
 well by his fellow- nen and knew it. 
 
 "Are you coming up to Cariboo this spring?" asked 
 Corbett. 
 
 " No, we haven't dust enough to pay our way so far, 
 more's the pity." 
 
 ■I 
 
THE MOTHER OF GOLD. 
 
 41 
 
 " Why not come with us ? I'll find the dollars if you'll 
 lend a hand with our pack-train," suggested Corbett. 
 
 " Well, I don't know, perhaps I might do worse; and 
 as to that, if you are taking a pack-train along I dare- 
 say I could pretty nearly earn my grub packing. But 
 I must talk it over with Rampike." 
 
 "All right, do you fix it your own way," put in 
 Chance; " but mind, if you feel at all like coming, there 
 need be no difficulty about the dollars either for you 
 or your partner. I am pretty heavily in your debt 
 anyway." 
 
 " Not a bit of it. Those bilks owe us something per- 
 haps, and if they get a chance they won't forget to pay 
 their score. But I guess they'll hardly care to tackle 
 Rampike, or me either for the matter of that;" and 
 whistling merrily his favourite tune, " Riding, riding, 
 riding on the old pack mule," the Cariboo poet went 
 below for refreahment. 
 
 \ ' ; 
 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 "THE MOTHER OF GOLD.' 
 
 
 It jf 
 
 FROM Victoria to the mouth of the Frazer river is 
 about seventy miles, and thence to New Westmin- 
 ster is at least another sixteen. As the steamers which 
 used to ply between the two young cities in '62 were 
 by no means ocean racers, none of the passengers on 
 board the s.s. Umatilla were in the least degree 
 disappointed, although the shadows of evening were 
 beginning to fall before they passed the Sandheads, 
 and ran into the yellow waters of the Frazer. 
 
 Very few of those on board had eyes for scenery. 
 
 rfiH 
 
 
; • Jw>^i>^^u!M)Wd!0KnW 
 
 42 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO 1" 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 \l \ 
 
 i 
 
 A rich-looking bar or a wavy riband of quartz high 
 up on a mountain-side would have attracted more 
 attention from that crowd than all the beauties of 
 the Yosemite, and even had they been as keen about 
 scenery as Cook's tourists, there was but little food for 
 their raptures in the delta they were entering. The 
 end of a river, like the end of a life, is apt to be ugly 
 and dull, and the Frazer exhibits no exception to this 
 rule. Child as she is of the winter's snows and the 
 summer's sun, she loses all the purity of the one and 
 the gleam of the other long before she attains her 
 middle course, and at her mouth this "mother of gold" is 
 but a tired, dull, old river, sordid and rich with golden 
 sands, glad, so it seems, to slip by her monotonous mud- 
 banks and lose herself and her yellow dross in the puri- 
 fying waters of the salt sea. 
 
 As Corbett gazed upon the wide expanse of dun- 
 coloured flood, he saw no sign even of that savage 
 strength of which he had heard so much, except one. 
 Far out, and looking small in ihe great waste of waters, 
 was a stranded tree — a great pine, uprooted and now 
 stranded on a sunken bank, its roots upturned, its 
 boughs twisted off, and its very bark torn from its 
 side by the fury of the riffles and whirlpools of the 
 upper canyons. To Corbett there was something 
 infinitely sad in this lonely wreck, though it was but 
 the wreck of a forest tree. Had he known the great 
 sullen river better he would have known that she 
 brought down many sadder wrecks in those early 
 days — human wrecks, whose wounds were not all of 
 her making, though the river got the evil credit of 
 them. 
 
 As it was, the first sight of the Frazer depressed 
 him, and his depression was not dispelled by the sight 
 
(i 
 
 THB MOTHER OF QOLD. 
 
 n 
 
 43 
 
 of New Westminster. The idea of a new city hewed 
 by raan out of the virgin forest is nol le enough, and 
 whilst the sun is shining and the axes are ringing, the 
 life and energy of the workers makes some compensa- 
 tion for the ugliness of their work. But it is otherwise 
 when the sun is low and labour has ceas«d. Then 
 " Stump-town " seems a more appropriate title than 
 New Westminster, and a new-comer may be forgiven 
 for- sliuddering at the ugliness of the new frame- 
 houses, at the charred stumps still left standing in the 
 main streets, at the little desolate forest swamps still 
 left undrained within a stone's-throw of the Grand 
 Hotel, and at all the baldness and beggarliness of the 
 new town's surroundings. To Ned Corbett it looked 
 as if Nature had been murdered, and civilization had 
 not had time to throw a decent pall over her victim's 
 body. Certainly in 1862 New Westminster might be, 
 as its citizens alleged, an infant prodigy, but it was 
 not a picturesque city. 
 
 However, as the s.s. Umatilla ran alongside her 
 wharf, a voice roused Corbett from his musings, and 
 turning he found Cruickshank beside him. 
 
 " What do you think about camping to-night, Cor- 
 bett?" asked the colonel. " It will be rather dark for 
 pitching our tent, won't it?" 
 
 Now, since the poker-playing incident Corbett had 
 not spoken to Cruickshank. Indeed he had not seen 
 liira, and he had hardly made up his mind how to treat 
 him when they met. That Cruickshank had a good 
 many objectionable acquaintances was clear, but on 
 the other hand there was nothing definite which could 
 be alleged against him. Moreover, for the next 
 month Ned and the estate-agent were bound to be a 
 good deal together, and taking this into consideration, 
 
 i !4 
 
 i * 
 
 1 ■{ 
 
 u 
 
 ■i 
 I 
 
 •U 
 
s 
 
 44 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO!' 
 
 Ned decided on the spur of the moment to let all that 
 had gone before pass without comment. Cruickshank 
 had evidently calculated upon Corbett taking this 
 course, for though there had been a shade of indecision 
 in his manner when he came up, he spoke quietly, and 
 as one who had no explanations to make or apologies to 
 offer. 
 
 " Yes, it is too dark to make a comfortable camp to- 
 night," assented Corbett. "What does Chance want 
 to do?" 
 
 " Oh, I vote for an hotel," cried Steve, coming up at 
 the moment. " Let us be happy whilst we may, we'll 
 be down to bed-rock soon enough." 
 
 "All right, 'the hotel goes,' as you would say, 
 Steve;" and together the young men followed the 
 crowd which streamed across the gangway to the 
 wharf. 
 
 There the arrival of the S.s. Umatilla was evidently 
 looked upon as the event of the day, and a great crowd 
 of idlers stood waiting for the disembarkation of her 
 passengers; and yet one man only seemed to be there 
 on business, the rest were merely loafing, and would as 
 soon have thought of lending a hand to carry a big 
 portmanteau to the hotel as they would have thought 
 of touching their hats. 
 
 This one worker in the crowd was an old man in 
 his shirt sleeves, who caught Ned by the arm, as he 
 had caught each of his predecessors, as soon as his foot 
 touched the wharf, and in a tone of fatherly command 
 bade him " Go up to the Mansion House, Best hotel in 
 the city. It's the miners' house," he added. " Three 
 square meals a day every time, and don't you 
 forget it." 
 
 N d laughed. The last recommendation was cer- 
 
"THE MOTHER OP GOLD.' 
 
 45 
 
 tainly worthy of consideration, and as no one else 
 seemed anxious for his patronage he turned to Cruick- 
 shank with, "Is it to be the Mansion House?" 
 
 " Oh yes," replied the latter, " all the hard-fists stay 
 with Mike." 
 
 "How long do you mean to stay here anyway?" 
 asked Chance. 
 
 "Four or five days, — perhaps a week," replied Cruick- 
 shank. " There is a boat for Douglas to-night, but we 
 could not buy the horses and the stores so as to be 
 ready in less than a couple of days." 
 
 " That is so. We shall have to stay a week then?" 
 asked Steve. 
 
 "Unless you like to intrust me with the purchase 
 of your train. I could hire a man to help me and come 
 on by the next boat if you want particularly to catch 
 this one— " 
 
 The eyes of Corbett and Chance met, and unluckily 
 Cruickshank saw the glance, and interpreted it as cor- 
 rectly as if the words had been spoken. 
 
 Corbett noticed the flush on the man's face and the 
 ugly glitter in his eye, and hastened to soothe him. 
 
 "Oh no, colonel, it is deuced good of you," he said; 
 " but we would rather wait and all go together. We 
 are looking to you to show us a good deal besides the 
 mere road in the next six weeks. But what are we to 
 do with our packs now?" 
 
 " We can't leave them here, can we?" asked Chance, 
 pointing to where their goods lay in a heap on the 
 wharf. 
 
 " I don't see why not," growled Cruickshank ; and 
 then added significantly, " Murder or manslaughter are 
 no great crimes in the eyes of some folk around here, 
 but miners are a bit above petty larceny;" and so say- 
 
 i\'i 
 
 .^M 
 
 : i 
 
 ■ ; 3 
 
 pi 
 
«« 
 
 *'<!OLD, OOLD IN CARIBOO 1" 
 
 v: 
 
 ing he turned on his heel and left Chance and Corbett 
 to shift for themselves. 
 
 "Better take care what you say to that fellow," 
 remarked Corbett, looking after the retreating figure; 
 " although I like him better in that mood than in his 
 oily one." 
 
 "Oh, I think he is all right; at any rate you won't 
 want my help to crush him, Ned, if he means to cut up 
 rough." 
 
 "Not if he fights fair, Steve; but I don't trust the 
 brute — I never did." 
 
 "Just because he plays cards and calls himself a 
 colonel? Why, everyone is a colonel out here. But to 
 blazes with Cruickshank anyway. Come and get some 
 grub." 
 
 And so saying Steve Chance entered the principal 
 hotel of New Westminster, down the plank walls of 
 which the tears of oozing resin still ran, while the 
 smell of the pine-forest pervaded the whole house. 
 
 The " newness " of these young cities of the West is 
 perhaps beyond the imagination of dwellers in the old 
 settled countries of Europe. It is hard for men from 
 the East to realize that the hotel, which welcomes them 
 to all the comforts and luxuries of the nineteenth cen- 
 tury, was standing timber a month before, that the walls 
 covered with paper in some pretty French design, and 
 hung with mirrors and gilt-framed engravings, were 
 the homes of the jay and the squirrel, and that the 
 former tenants have hardly had time yet to settle in o 
 new abode. 
 
 And yet so it is: we do our scene-shifting pretty 
 rapidly out West, and though there may not be time 
 to perfect anything, the general eflfect is wonderful in 
 the extreme. 
 
 III! 
 
"THE MOTHER OF OOLIX' 
 
 47 
 
 The Westminster hotel was a gem of its class, and 
 even Ned and Steve, who had become fairly used to 
 Western ways, were a little aghast at the contrast 
 between the magnificence of some of the new furniture 
 and the simplicity of the sleeping accommodation, as 
 illustrated by the rows of miners' blanltets neatly laid 
 out along the floor. Luckily Cruickshauk had cautioned 
 them to take their bedding with them, or they might 
 have been obliged to pass a cheerless night in one of 
 the highly-gilded arm-chairs, which looked as comfort- 
 less as they were gaudy. 
 
 The old tout upon the wharf, who owned what he 
 advertised, had not misrepresented his house. As he 
 had said, the meals were square enough even for the 
 hungry miners who swarmed around his board, and 
 though it was dull to lie upon their oars and wait, 
 Steve and Ned might have found worst places to wait 
 in than the Mansion House. For at Westminster a 
 delay arose, as delays will the moment a man begins 
 packing or touches cayuses out West. Of course there 
 were a few horses to be bought, but equally, of course, 
 everyone in the city and its suburbs seemed to know 
 by instinct that Corbett & Co. were cornered, and 
 must buy, however bad the beasts and however high 
 the prices. 
 
 An old Indian, one Captain Jim, who with the 
 assistance of all his female relatives used to pr •. k 
 liquor and other necessaries to the mines, had part 
 of an old train to sell, horses, saddles, and all complete, 
 and for the first three days of their stay at West- 
 minster Corbett & Co. expected every minute to 
 become owners of this outfit. But the business 
 dragged on, until the noble savage upon whom they 
 had looked as the type of genial simplicity had become 
 
 1 : 
 
 
 1 "■ 
 
 
 i 
 1 
 
 
 i ' 
 
 
 1 ' 
 
 ; 
 
 
 
 ; 
 
 1l 
 
 i ■■ -*■ 
 
 
 i^i 
 
 
 ' 1 
 
 
 ;fi( 
 
 f 
 
■if' 
 
 f 
 
 n 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO 1** 
 
 an abomination in their eyes, and they had decided 
 to leave the management of him to Cruickshank, 
 resolving that if the train was not bought and ready 
 to be shipped on the next boat to Douglas that they 
 would go without a pack-train altogether. In the 
 meanwhile they had to get through the time as best 
 they could, assisted by the Cariboo poet, who had 
 stayed on like themselves at Westminster. 
 
 To Chance this was no hardship; what with a little 
 sketching, a little poker, and a great deal of smoking, 
 he managed to get through the days with a good deal 
 of satisfaction to himself. As to Ned, the delay and 
 inaction disgusted him and spoilt his temper, which 
 may account in some measure for an unfortunate in- 
 cident which occurred on the second day of his stay 
 at the Mansion House. 
 
 As the day was hot and he had nothing to do, the 
 big fellow had laid out his blankets in a shady comer 
 and prepared to lie down and sleep the weary hours 
 away. Before doing so he turned for a minute or two 
 to watch a game of piquet, in which Roberts appeared 
 to be invariably "piqued, repiqued, pooped, and capoted," 
 as his adversary, a red-headed Irishman, announced 
 at the top of his voice. 
 
 Tired of the game, Ned turned and sought his 
 couch, upon which two strangers had taken a seat. 
 Going up to them, Ned asked them to move, and as 
 they did not appear to hear him he repeated his 
 request in a louder tone. Perhaps the heat and the 
 flies had made him irritable, and a tone of angry 
 impatience had got into his voice which nettled the 
 men, one of whom, turning towards him, but not 
 attempting to make room, coolly told him " to go to 
 blazes." 
 
"THE MOTHER OP GOLD." 
 
 49 
 
 As the man turned, Ned recognized him as Bub 
 Cruickshank, the brother or cousin of the Colonel ; but 
 it needed neither the recognition nor the laugh that 
 ran round the room to put Ned's hackles up. 
 
 Without stopping to think, he picked up the fellow 
 by the scruff of his neck and the slack of his breeches 
 and deposited him with the least possible tenderness 
 upon an untenanted piece of the floor. 
 
 Before he had time to straighten himself, the 
 dislodged Bub aimed a furious kick at Ned, and in 
 another minute our hero was in the thick of as merry 
 a mill as any honest young Englishman could desire. 
 Time after time Ned floored his man, for though Bub 
 knew very little of the use of his hands he was a 
 determined brute, and kept rushing in and trying to 
 get a grip of his man at close quarters, and, moreover, 
 it was a case of one down the other come on, for as 
 soon as Ned had floored one fellow and put him hor8 
 de combat for a short time, his companion took up 
 the battle. 
 
 "Take care, Corbett, — take care of his teeth!" 
 shouted Roberts all at once; and Ned felt a horrible 
 faint feeling come over him, robbing him for the 
 moment of all his strength, as Bub fastened on his 
 thumb. 
 
 For a moment the Shropshireman almost gave up 
 the battle. Those only who have suffered from this 
 dastardly trick of the lowest of Yankee roughs, can 
 have any idea of the effect it has upon a man's 
 strength. But Corbett was almost as mad with rage 
 at what he considered unsportsman-like treatment as 
 he was with pain, so that he managed to wrench him- 
 self free and send his man to earth again with another 
 straight left-hander. 
 
 (796) 
 
 if 
 
 1 '] 
 
 
 I 
 
I 
 
 50 
 
 *'OOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO !" 
 
 
 m 
 
 Meanwhile the red-haired Irishman, who had been 
 playing piquet with Roberts, had lost all interest in 
 his game since the fight began, and was fairly writhing 
 in his seat with suppressed emotion. 
 
 At last flesh and blood (or at least Irish flesh and 
 blood) could endure it no longer, so that, jumping up 
 from his seat, he took Ned just by the shoulders and 
 lifted him clean out of the way as if he had been a 
 baby, remarking as he did so — 
 
 " You stay there, sonny, and let mo knock 'em down 
 awhile." 
 
 But the poor simple Celt was doomed to dis- 
 appointment. The truth was that Ned had been greedy, 
 and taken more than his share of this innocent game 
 of skittles, so that, as Mr. O'Halloran remarked sor- 
 rowfully at supper, he did but get in " one from the 
 shoulther, and thin them two murtherin' haythens lit 
 right out." 
 
 When the scrimmage was over Roberts took Ned on 
 one side, and after looking at the bitten thumb and 
 bandaging it up for his friend, he gave Ned a little 
 advice. 
 
 " Fighting is all very well, Mr. Corbett, where people 
 fight according to rules, but you had better drop it 
 here. If you don't, some fellow will get level on you 
 with the leg of a table or a little cold lead. If you 
 must fight, you had better learn to shoot like old 
 Rampike." 
 
 "Where is old Rampike now?" asked Ned, anxious 
 to turn the conversation, and feeling a little ashamed 
 of his escapade. 
 
 " Rampike went right on by the boat that met tlie 
 Umatilla. He got a job up at Williams Creek, and 
 will be there ahead of us." 
 
 
"THE MOTHER OF GOLD." 
 
 61 
 
 Ithe 
 md 
 
 ii 
 
 " Then you mean to come up too, Roberts , that's 
 right," said Corbett genially. 
 
 " Yes, I am coming up with your crowd. I met the 
 count in town last night and borrowed the chips from 
 him. I am thinking that if you make a practice of 
 quarrelling with Cruickshank and all his friends you 
 will need someone along to look after you " 
 
 " But who is the count, and why could you not have 
 borrowed the money from us ?" asked Corbett in a tone 
 of considerable pique. 
 
 "The count! Oh, iihe count is an old friend, aiid 
 lends to raost anyone who is broke. It's his business 
 in a ^Vd,y. You see, he is the biggest gambler in the 
 upper country. Skins a chap one day and lends him 
 a handful of gold pieces the next. He'll get it back 
 with interest from one of us even if I don't pay him, 
 so that's a 1 right;" and honest Roberts dismissed all 
 thought of the loan from his mind, as if it was the most 
 natural thing in the world for a professional gambler 
 to lend an impecunious victim a hundred dollars on no 
 security whatever. 
 
 Luckily for Ned his fellow countryman took him in 
 hand after this, and what with singing and working 
 managed to keep him out of mischief. For Roberts 
 found Cor'v,.tt v;ork in Westminster which just suited 
 his young muscles, though it was as quair^ in its 
 way as Roberts' own financial arrangements in their 
 Avay. 
 
 It seem'.id that in the yoang city there was no 
 church and no funds to build one, but there was a 
 sturdy, energetic parson, and a mob of Loisy, careless 
 miners, who rather liked the parson; not, perhaps, 
 he^^duse he was a parson, but bceniiHe he had in some 
 way or other proved to them that he waa a " man." 
 
 ; ' i A 
 
 'm 
 
 ^ I 
 
It- i 
 
 ^ 
 
 62 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO 1" 
 
 Had they been on the way down with their pockets 
 full of "dust" the boys would soon have built him 
 anything he wanted, whether it had been a church or 
 a gin-shop. I am afraid it would have mattered little. 
 As it was they were unluckily on their way up, and 
 their pockets were empty. 
 
 But as the will was there the parson found the 
 way, and all through that week of waiting Ned and 
 a gang of other strong hardy fellows like himself 
 made their axes glitter and ring on the great pines, 
 clearing a site, and preparing the lumber for the first 
 house of God erected in New Westminster. 
 
 Who shall say that their contribution had not as 
 much intrinsic value as the thousand- dollar cheque 
 which Croesus sends for a similar object. A good deal 
 more labour goes to the felling of a pine ten feet 
 through than to the signing of a cheque, anyway. 
 
 i4 
 
 4 
 
 M 
 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 "IS THE COLONEL 'STRAIGHT? 
 
 f»i 
 
 I 
 
 AT the very last moment, when all Corbett's party, 
 except Cruickshank, had yielded to despair, the 
 Indian Jim gave in, and sold his animals as they 
 stood foi sixty dollars a head. This included the pur- 
 chase" of pack-saddles, cinches, and other items essential 
 to A packer's outfit. 
 
 The steamer for Douglas started at 8 p.m., and it 
 vas long after breakfast on the same day that the 
 eyv'^s of Corbett and Chance, who were smoking out- 
 
"IS THE COLONEL •STRAIGHT?'" 
 
 63 
 
 side their inn, were gladdened by the sight of Phon 
 and Cruickshank driving ten meek-looking brutes up 
 to the front of the Mansion House. 
 
 Having tied each pony short by the head to the 
 garden rail, Cruickshank began to organize his forces. 
 There were the ponies, it was true, but their packs and 
 many other things had still to be bought. There was 
 much to be done and very little time to do it in. Then 
 it was that Cruickshank showed himself to the greatest 
 advantage. For days he had appeared to dawdle over 
 his bargaining with Jim, until Ned almost thought that 
 Indian and white together were in league against him ; 
 now he felt miserable at the mere memorj'^ of his former 
 suspicions. Cruickshank knew that no man can hurry 
 an Indian, and therefore abstained from irritating Jim 
 by attempting the impossible. The result of this wavS 
 that at the end of the time at his disposal Cruickshank 
 had by his indifference convinced Jim that he cared 
 very little whether he got the horses c not, so that 
 now the Indian was in a hurry to sell before the 
 steamer should carry Cruickshank and his dollars n way 
 to Douglas. So Cruickshank bought the ponies, bought 
 them cheap, and, moreover, just in time to catch the 
 boat. This was all he had struggled for. 
 
 But now that he had white men to deal with his 
 tactics changed. These men knew the value of time 
 and could hurry, therefore Cruickshank hurried them. 
 To every man he gave some independent work to do. 
 No one was left to watch another working. Whilst 
 one dashed off to buy stores another took the horses 
 to the forge to be shod, and old Phon was left to repair 
 the horse furniture and overhaul the outfit generally. 
 Cruickshank himself went off to buy gunny sacks, 
 boxes, ropes, and such-like, rendered necessary by the 
 
 s 
 
 i,i 
 
64 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN OARIBOOl" 
 
 !M. 
 
 
 absence of aparejoa, needing the knowledge of an expert 
 in their selection. 
 
 It was already late in the afternoon, and Ned, hot 
 and dusty, and as happy as a schoolboy, was helping 
 the smith to shoe the last of the ponies, when Roberts, 
 who had done his own work, walked into the forge. 
 
 For a minute or two Roberts stood unnoticed, observ- 
 ing his fellow-countryman with eyes full of a sort 
 of hero-worship, commoner at a public school than 
 in the world. 
 
 But Ned was one of those fellows who win men's 
 hearts without trying to do so; a young fellow who 
 said what he thought without waiting to pick his 
 words, who did what he liked, and luckily liked v hat 
 was good, and honest, and manly, and who withal looked 
 the man he was, upstanding, frank, and absolutely 
 fearless. Ned had been in the forge for perhaps half 
 a day or more, and had already so won the heart of 
 the smith that that good man with his eyes on the 
 boy's great forearm had been hinting that there was 
 "just as much money in a good smithy as there was 
 in most of them up-country claims." 
 
 But Ned was bent on gold-mining and seeing life 
 with the hard-fists, so though he loved to swing the 
 great smith's hammer he was not to be tempted from 
 his purpose, though he was quite ready to believe that 
 a smith in New Westminster could earn more by his 
 hands than many a professional man by his brains in 
 Westminster on the Thames. 
 
 "Hullo, Rob! have you got through with your 
 work?" cried Ned, catching sight of his friend at last. 
 
 " Yes. I've done all I've got to do; can I lend you a 
 hand?" 
 
 " Why, no, thanks; my friend here is putting ou the 
 
*IS THE COLONEL * STRAIGHT 1 
 
 tn 
 
 55 
 
 last shoe. But what is the matter? you look as if you 
 had got * turned round' in the bush, and were trying 
 to think your way out;" and Ned laid his hand laugh- 
 ingly on his friend's shoulder. 
 
 Roberts laughed too, but led the younger man out- 
 side, and once there blurted out his trouble. 
 
 " Look here, Corbett, ever since that gambling row 
 I've had my eye on Cruickshank, and I thought that 
 I knew him for a rascal, but blow me if he hasn't got 
 beyond me this time." 
 
 "How so, Rob?" 
 
 "Well, I'm half-inclined to think he's honest after 
 all. He is a real rustler when he chooses anyway," 
 added the poet admiringly. 
 
 " Oh, I expect he is as honest as most of his kind. 
 Why shouldn't he be? All men haven't the same ideas 
 of honesty out here; and if he isn't honest it doesn't 
 matter much to us, does it?" asked Ned carelessly. 
 
 "Doesn't it? Ain't you trusting him with a good 
 many thousand dollars?" asked Roberts with some 
 asperity. 
 
 " No, I don't think so. You see, Rob, if he is, as you 
 thought, a card-sharper and a bogus estate-agent, my 
 money is lost already; he cant clear out with the 
 claims or the packs even if he war ts to. But why do 
 you think he is a rogue?" 
 
 " I tell you I'm beginning to think that he isn't." 
 
 " Bully for you, that's better!" cied Ned approvingly; 
 " but what has worked this change in your opinions, 
 Rob?" 
 
 " Well, last night that scoundrelly siwash, Captain 
 Jim, tried to work a swindle with those pack-ponies, 
 and Cruickshank wouldn't have ii Jim was to sell 
 you a lot of unsound beastb tt eighty dollars a head. 
 
 ) 
 
 I ; 
 i ' 
 
 7- 
 
66 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO!" 
 
 f 
 
 f^ 
 
 M 
 
 1 
 
 i 
 
 
 § 
 
 You would never have noticed that they had healed 
 sores on their backs, and if Cruickshank had held his 
 tongue he was to have had twenty dollars a pony, and 
 the way he * talked honest' to that Indian was aston- 
 ishing, you bet." 
 
 " How did you find all this out ?" asked Ned. 
 
 Roberts looked a little uncomfortable and flushed to 
 the roots of his hair, but at length made the best of it, 
 and admitted that he had followed the two men and 
 overheard their conversation. 
 
 "You see, Ned," he added, "it's not very English, 
 I know, but you must fight these fellows with their 
 own weapons." 
 
 For a while Ned said nothing, though he frowned 
 more than Roberts had ever seen him frown before, 
 and his fingers tugged angrily at his slight moustache. 
 
 " Roberts," he said at last, " I agree with you, this 
 sort of thing isn't very English, I'm hanged if it is; 
 but I've been pretty nearly as suspicious as you have, 
 so I can't afford to talk. Once for all, do you know 
 anything against the colonel?" 
 
 "No," hesitated Roberts, "I don't know anything 
 against Dan, but Bub^ — ." 
 
 " Oh, to blazes with Bub!" broke in Corbett angrily. 
 "A man cannot be responsible for every one of his 
 cousins and kinsmen. From to-day I mean to believe 
 in Cruickshank as an honest man, until I prove him 
 to be a knave. You had better do the same, Rob ; spy- 
 ing after a fellow as we have been doing is enough to 
 make an honest man sick;" and Ned Corbett made a 
 wry face as if the mere thought of it left a bad taste 
 in his mouth. 
 
 " All right, that's a-go then. He was honest about 
 these cayuses anyway, and if he does go back on us 
 
"IS THE COLONEL 'STRAIGHT?'" 
 
 67 
 
 well fire him higher than a sky-rocket;" and so saying 
 Roberts lent Ned a hand to collect the said cayuses. 
 These at the first glance would have struck an English 
 judge of horseflesh as being ten of the very sorriest 
 screws that ever stood upon four legs ; but at least they 
 showed to Roberts' practised ey*^ no signs of old sore 
 backs, none of those half -obliterated scars which warn 
 the cognoscenti of evils which have beei: and are likely 
 to recur. 
 
 Taken in a body, they were a little too big for polo 
 ponies, and a little too ragged, starved, and ill-shaped 
 for a respectable costermonger's cart. There was one 
 amongst them, a big buckskin standing nearly 142 
 hands, which looked fairly plump and able-bodied, but 
 atoned for these merits by an ugly trick of laying back 
 her ears and showing the whites of her eyes whenever 
 she got a chance. 
 
 The most typical beast of his class was one Job, a 
 parti-coloured brute (or pinto as they call them in 
 British Columbia), with one eye brown and the other 
 blue, and a nose of the brightest pink, as if he suffered 
 from a chronic cold and a rough pocket handkerchief. 
 Job's bones stared at you through his skin, his under- 
 lip protruded and hung down, giving him an air of 
 the most abject misery, and even a Yorkshire horse- 
 dealer could not have found a good point to descant 
 upon from his small weak quarters to his ill-shaped 
 shoulder. 
 
 But though Job's head was fiddle-shaped there was 
 a good deal in it, as those were likely to discover who 
 had given sixty dollars for him, and expected to get 
 sixty dollars' worth of work out of him. He had not 
 been packing since the days when he trotted as a foal 
 beside a " greasers' " train for nothing. At present he 
 
68 
 
 **aOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO I" 
 
 was the meekest, most ill-used-looking brute on the 
 Pacific coast, and Corbett was just remarking to 
 Roberts " that that poor devil of a pony would never 
 be able to carry a hundred and fifty pounds let alone 
 two hundred over a bad road," when the buckskin let 
 out, and caught the bay alongside of him such a kick 
 on the stifle as made that poor beast go a little lame 
 for days. No one noticed that the bite which set the 
 buckskin kicking was given by old Job, who moved 
 his weary old head sadly, just in time, however, to let 
 the kick go by and land on the unoffending body of 
 his neighbour. 
 
 An hour later all the horses were up again at the 
 hotel, and the bill having been settled Phon and 
 Roberts drove the train down to the wharf, where the 
 steamer for Douglas, a small stem-wheeler, was waiting 
 for her passengers and her cargo. With the exception 
 of Job, all the cayuses were put on board at once and 
 secured, but seeing that there was still a good deal of 
 luggage in small parcels up at the hotel, Chance kept 
 " that quiet old beast Job, just to carry down the odds 
 and ends;" and Job, with a sigh which spoke volumes 
 to those who could understand, plodded away to do 
 the extra work set aside as of right for the meek and 
 long-suffering. 
 
 It is an aggravating employment under any circum- 
 stances, the employment of packing. Many men, 
 otherwise good men, swear naturally (and freely) as 
 soon as they engage in it; but then, why I know not, 
 the very presence of a horse makes some men swear. 
 Steve knew very little about packing anyway, and 
 had he known more he would not have found it easy 
 to fasten his bundles on to the back of a beast which 
 shifted constantly from one leg to another, and always 
 
"IS THB COLONEL * STRAIGHT? 
 
 f n 
 
 59 
 
 seemed to be standing uphill or downhill, with one 
 leg at least a foot shorter than the other three. 
 
 When Steve spoke to him (with an angry kick in 
 the stomach), Job would lift his long-suffering head 
 with an air of meek dejection, and shifting his leg as 
 required plant a huge hoof solidly upon Steve's moccas- 
 ined foot. If I could paint the look on that grep^t ugly 
 equine head as it turned with leering eye and project- 
 ing nether lip, and looked into the anguished face of 
 Steve Chance, I should be able to teach my reader 
 more of cayuses (the meanest creatures on God's earth) 
 than I can ever hope to do. But even with Job to help 
 him, Steve got his load down to the boat at last, and 
 put all aboard except a new pack-saddle, which he had 
 taken off the pack-horse and laid down on the ground 
 beside him. 
 
 With lowered head and half-shut eyes Job stood for 
 some minutes patiently waiting, and then, as Steve 
 came over the side to drive him on board with his 
 fellows, the old horse heaved a long, long sigh, and 
 before Steve could reach him lay down slowly and 
 gently upon that pack-saddle. Of course when he 
 got up, the pack-saddle was demolished, and as the last 
 whistle had sounded, there was no time to get another 
 before leaving Westminster. 
 
 A new saddle would have to be bought at Douglas, 
 and that would cost money, or made upon the road, 
 and that would mean delay, so Job, with a cynical 
 gleam in his wall-eye, trotted meekly and contentedly 
 on board. He had entered his first protest against 
 extra work. 
 
 Five minutes later the steamer Lillooet cast loose 
 from her moorings, the gangway was taken in, and 
 the gallant little stem-wheeler went cleaving her way 
 
 n 
 
 !S HI 
 
( I 
 
 «b 
 
 60 
 
 "GH3LD, GOLD IN CARIBOO 1' 
 
 up through the yellow Frazer, on her forty-mile run 
 to the mouth of Harrison river, steaming past long 
 mud-flats and many a mile of heavy timber. 
 
 A day and a half was the time allowed for the 
 journey from New Westminster to Douglas, but Corbett 
 and Chance could hardly believe that they had taken 
 so long when they came to their moorings again at the 
 head of the Harrison Lake. 
 
 To them the hours had seemed to fly by, for their 
 eyes and thoughts were busy, intent at one moment 
 upon the bare mud-banks, watching for game or the 
 tracks of the game, the next straining to catch a 
 glimpse of deer feeding at dawn upon the long gray 
 hills — hills which were a pale dun in the light of early 
 morning, but which became full of rich velvety shadows 
 as the day wore on. 
 
 Overhead floated the fleecy blue and white sky of 
 spring-time; on the hills patches of wild sunflower 
 mingled with the greenish gray of the sage brush, and 
 here and there, even on the arid barren banks of the 
 Frazer itself, occurred little " pockets " of verdure — 
 hollows with fresh-water springs in them, where the 
 tender green of the young willows, and the abundant 
 white bloom of the choke cherries and olali bushes, 
 made Edens amongst the waste of alkaline mud-banks, 
 Edens tenanted and made musical by all the collected 
 bird-life of that barren land. 
 
 The only difficult bit of water for the little steamer 
 was the seven miles of the Harrison river, a rapid, 
 turbulent stream, up which the s.s. Lillooet had to fight 
 every inch of the way; but beyond that lay the lake, 
 a broad blue lake, penned in by steep and heavily- 
 timbered mountains, and beyond the one-house town 
 of Douglas, at which Ned and his fellow-passengers 
 
 ■1' ' 
 
•*IS THE COLONEL * STRAIGHT 1'" 
 
 61 
 
 disembarked about noon of the second day out from 
 Westminster. 
 
 From Douglas the ordinary route was by river and 
 lake, with a few short portages to Lillooet on the Frazer; 
 and in 1862 there were steamers upon all the lakes 
 (Lillooet, Anderson, and Seton), and canoes (with a cer- 
 tainty of a fair breeze in summer) for such as preferred 
 them. 
 
 But Ned and his friends had decided that as they 
 had a pack-train, and would be compelled to pack part 
 of the way in any case, they might just as well harden 
 their hearts and pack the whole distance, more especi- 
 ally since they had ample time to make their journey in, 
 and not too much money to waste upon steamboat fares. 
 So at Douglas Cruickshank bought another pack-saddle 
 for about twice what it would have cost at Westminster 
 (freight was high in the early days), and suggested 
 that as the one house (half store, half hotel) was full 
 to overflowing, they might as well strike out for them- 
 selves, and as it was only mid-day make a few miles 
 upon their road before camping for the night. 
 
 "You see," argued Cruickshank, "it's no violet's 
 camping where so many men have camped before, and 
 a good many of them greasers and Indians." 
 
 Corbett and Chance were new to the discomforts of 
 the road, and had stili to learn the penalty for camping 
 where Indians have camped ; but for all that they took 
 the colonel's advice and assented to his proposal, though 
 it meant bidding good-bye to their fellow-men a day or 
 two sooner than they need have done. 
 
 Once the start had been decided upon Cruickshank 
 lost no time in getting under weigh. The diamond 
 hitch had no mysteries for him, the loops flew out and 
 settled to an inch where he wanted them to, every 
 
 i 
 
 111 
 
 II 
 
 i' H 
 
et 
 
 «OOLD, GOLD IN OARIBOOl" 
 
 ''J 
 
 v 
 
 f 
 
 1 i 
 
 |, 
 
 strand in his ropes did its share of binding and holding 
 fa8t ; his very curses seemed to cow the most stubborn 
 cayuse better than another man's, and when he cinched 
 the unfortunate beasts up you could ahiiost hear their 
 ribs crack. 
 
 Job alone nearly got the better of the colonel, but 
 even he just missed it. Cruickshank cinched this 
 wretched scarecrow a little less severely than the rest, 
 but when later on he saw old Job with his cinch ail 
 slack, a malevolent grin came over his face, and he 
 muttered, " Oh, that's your sort, is it, an old-timer ? So 
 am I !" And after giving Job a kick which would 
 have knocked the wind out of anything, he cinched 
 him up again before he could recover himself, and then 
 led him to drink. As the horse sucked down the water 
 greedily Cruickshank muttered to himself, " Bueno, I 
 guess your load will stick now until you are thirsty 
 again." After this Job and the colonel seemed to 
 have a mutual understanding, and as long as he was 
 within hearing of Cruickshank's curses there was no 
 better pack-pony on the road than old Job. 
 
 It seems as if men who have been used to packing, 
 and have had a spell of rest from their ordinary occupa- 
 tion, itch to handle the ropes again ; at least, it is only 
 in this way that I can explain the readiness displayed 
 by so many of Ned's fellow-passengers to lend a hand 
 in fixing his packs for him. 
 
 In an hour from the time of disembarkation the train 
 was ready to start, and the welcome cry of " All set !" 
 rang out, after which there was a little hand-shaking, 
 a lighting of pipes, and the procession filed away up the 
 river, Cruickshank leading the first five ponies, then 
 Roberts plodding patiently along on foot, then another 
 five ponies, and then, as long as the narrow train would 
 
"18 THl COLONEL * STRAIGHT 1 
 
 > i> 
 
 63 
 
 permit of it, Ned and Steve trudging along, chatting 
 and keeping the ponies on the move. 
 
 Cruickshank was already some distance ahead, and 
 even Steve and Ned were almost outside the little 
 settlement, when a big red-head':'d Irishman, whom 
 Corbett remembered as his fighting friend at West- 
 minster, came running after him. 
 
 " Say," asked Mr. O'Halloran, rather out of breath 
 from his run. " Say, are you and that blagyard 
 partners ? " 
 
 "Which?" asked Ned in amaze. " My friend Chance?" 
 
 "No, no, not this boy here — that fellow riding 
 ahead of the ti*ain." 
 
 " Cruickshank ? Yes, we are partners in a way," 
 replied Ned. 
 
 " And you know it was his brother you laid out ? 
 Faith, you laid him out as nate as if it wasfor aberryin'," 
 lie added with a grin. 
 
 " I've heard men say that the colonel is Bub Cruick- 
 shank's brother," admitted Ned; "but the colonel is 
 all right, whatever Bub is." 
 
 "And you and he ain't had no turn-up along of 
 that scrimmage down at Westminster?" persisted O'Hal- 
 loran. 
 
 " Not a word. I don't think he knew about it." 
 
 "Oh yes, he did. I saw Bub and him talking it 
 over, and you may bet your boots the only reason he 
 didn't bark is that he means to bite — yes, and bite 
 hard too. It's the way with them dark, down-looking 
 blagyards," added the honest Irishman, in a tone of 
 the deepest scorn. 
 
 "Ah, well, I don't think Cruickshank is likely to try 
 his teeth on me," laughed Ned. " If he does I must try 
 that favourite rib-bender of yours upon him," and Ned 
 
 ! X 
 
ilffl 
 
 
 fit 
 
 I 
 
 
 r- 
 
 "GOLD, GOIJ) IN CARIBOO 1" 
 
 gripped C'Halloran's hand and strode gaily after his 
 train. 
 
 For a moment the red-headed one stood looking 
 after his friend, and then heaving a great sigh re- 
 marked: 
 
 " Indade and I\l like a turn wid you mesilf , but if 
 that black-looking blagyard doep a happorth of harm 
 to you, it's Kornavlius O'Hailoran as '11 put a head on 
 him," 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE WET CAMP. 
 
 AS his pack-train wound aw^ay along the trail from 
 DouglaM, Ned Corbett gave a great deep sigh as 
 if there was something which he fain would blow 
 away from him. And so there was. 
 
 As he left the last white man's house between 
 Douglis and Lillooet, he hoped and believed that he 
 left behind him towns and townsmen, petty dek;^s, 
 swindlings, and suspicions of swindlings. 
 
 He was going to look for gold, and give a year at 
 least of his young life to be spent in digging for it, 
 and yet this absurd young Englishman was actually 
 thanking his stars that now, at lapt, he was rid of 
 dollars o,nd dollar hunters, business and b'. uness men, 
 for at least a month. 
 
 There was food enough on the beasts in front of him 
 tx.) last his party for a year. He was sound in wind 
 and limb, his rifle was not a bad one, a,nd he had seen 
 lots of game tracks already, and that being so he really 
 cared very little whether he reached his claims in time 
 
 ;]!ktii!iiiJLiiiiil 
 
 
m 
 
 THE WET CAMP 
 
 65 
 
 in 
 
 or not. But of course, as Cruickshank said, there was 
 ample time to make the journey in, time indeed and to 
 spare, as every cue he had met admitted, so that no 
 doubt Steve and he would reach Williams Creek in 
 time, find the claims as Cruickshank had represented 
 them, and make no end of m.oney. 
 
 That would just suit Steve; and after all a lot of 
 money would be a good thint^ in its way. It w^ould 
 make a certain old uncle at home take back a good 
 many things he had once said about his nephew's "great 
 useless body and ramshackle brains," and besides, he 
 would like a few hundred pounds himself to send 
 home, and a bit in hand to hire a boat to go to Alaska 
 in. That had been Ned's day-dream ever since he had 
 seen a certain cargo of bear-skins which had come 
 down from that ice-bound terra incognita to Victoria. 
 
 So Ned sighed a great sigh of relief and content- 
 ment, took off his coat and slung it on his back, opened 
 the collar of his flannel shirt and let the soft air play 
 about his ribs, turned his sleeves up over his elbows, 
 tied a silk handkerchief turban-wise on his yellow 
 head, and having cut himself a good stout stick trudged 
 merrily along, sucking in the glorious mountain air as 
 greedily as if he had spent the last six months of his 
 life waiting for briefs in some grimy fog-haunted 
 chamber of the Temple. 
 
 He would have liked the ponies to have moved along 
 a little faster, because as it was he found it diificult to 
 keep behind them, five miles an hour suiting his legs 
 better than two. But th^s was his only trouble, and 
 as every now and then he got a breather, racing up 
 some steep mcline to head back a straggler to the path 
 of duty, Ned managed to be perfectly happy in spite 
 of this little drawback 
 
 •7W) S 
 
 11 
 
 I i 
 
 
 iiJ -'■if 
 
 U 
 
■i i 
 
 ! 
 
 1^ 
 
 filf 
 
 66 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO!' 
 
 As for the others, Cruickahank, who had seemed 
 restless and nervous as long as he had been with the 
 crowd of mmers on the boat and at Douglas, had now 
 relapsed into a mere automaton, which strode on 
 silently ahead of the pack-train, emitting from time to 
 time little blue jets of tobacco smoke. Steve seemed 
 buried in calculations, based on a miner's report that 
 the dirt at Williams Creek had paid as much as 
 fifty cents to the shovelful, an historical fact which 
 Phon and the young Yankee discussed occasionally 
 at some length; and old Roberts, having agreed to 
 leave his suspicions behind him, shared his tobacco 
 cheerily with Cruickshank, and from time to time 
 startled the listening deer with scraps of his favourite 
 ditties. 
 
 It was the refrain of the old pack mule, "Eiding, 
 riding, riding on my old pack mule," which at last 
 roused Steve Chance's indignation against the sorgster. 
 
 " Confound the old idiot !" growled the Yankee ; ' I 
 wish he wouldn't remind me of the unattainatle. I 
 shouldn't mind riding, but I am getting pretty sick of 
 tramping. Isn't it nearly time to camp, Ned ?" 
 
 " Nearly time to camp ? Why, we haven't made 
 eight miles yet," replied Corbett. 
 
 " Oh, that be hanged for a yarn ! We have been 
 going five solid hours by my watch, and five fours arc 
 twenty." 
 
 " That may be, but five twos are ten, and what witli 
 stoppages to fix packs, admire the scenery, and give you 
 time to munch a sandwich and tie up your moccasins, 
 I don't believe we have been going two miles an hour. 
 But are you tired, Steve ?" 
 
 " You bet I am, Ned. If there really is no particular 
 hurry hi us camp soon." 
 
THE WET CAMP. 
 
 67 
 
 "All right, we will if you like. Hullo, Cruick- 
 shank ! " Cruickshank turned. 
 
 " Steve is tired and wants to camp — what do you 
 say?" 
 
 Cruickshank hesitated a moment and then agreed 
 to the proposition, beginning at once to loosen the 
 packs upon the beasts nearest to him. 
 
 ' Here, 1 say, steady there!" cried Corbett; " you take 
 me too literally. Steve can go another mile if neces- 
 sary. We'll stop at the next good camping-ground." 
 
 "I'm afraid you won't get anything better than 
 this," replied the colonel. " Why, what is the matter 
 with this? You didn't expect side- walks and hotels 
 on the trail, did you, Corbett?" 
 
 Even in his best moods there was a nasty sneering 
 way about Cruickshank, which put his companions' 
 backs up. 
 
 "No, but I did think we might find a flat spot to 
 camp on." 
 
 "Did you? Then I'm sorry to disappoint you. 
 You won't find anything except a swamp meadow 
 flatter than this for the next ten miles or so, and the 
 swamps are a little too wet for comfort at this time 
 of year." 
 
 "Do you mean to say, Cruickshank, that we can't 
 find a flatter spot than this? Why, hang it, man, you 
 couldn't put a tea-cup down here without spilling the 
 contents " remonstrated Corbett. 
 
 " Well, if you think you can better this, let us go 
 on; perhaps you know best. What is it to be, camp 
 or 'get?'" 
 
 " Oh, if you are certain about it I suppose we may 
 as well stay here; but, by Jove, we shall have to tie 
 ourselves up to trees when we go to sleep to prevent 
 
 \i 
 
 i 
 
 
 
1 
 
 68 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO 1" 
 
 i. t 
 
 :¥- 
 
 our straying downhill." And Ned laughed at the 
 vision he had conjured up. 
 
 A minute later a bale, — bigger, heavier, and more 
 round of belly than its fellows, — escaped from Steve 
 Chance's grip and fell heavily to the earth. Steve 
 was not a strong man, certainly not a man useful for 
 lifting weights, besides he was a careless fellow, and 
 tij.'ed. For a moment Steve stood looking at the bale 
 a.'} it turned slowly over and over. Twice it turned 
 round and Steve still looked at it. The next moment 
 it gathered way, and before Steve could catch it 
 was hopping merrily downhill, in bounds which grew 
 in length every time it touched the hillside. Steve, 
 assisted by Phon, had the pleasure of recovering that 
 bale from the group of young pines am.ongst which 
 it eventually stuck, and brought it with many sobs 
 and much perspiration to the point from which it 
 originally started. It took Steve and Phon longer to 
 get over that two hundred feet of hillside than it had 
 taken the bale. 
 
 That first camp of theirs has left an impression upon 
 Ned's mind and Steve's which years will not efface. 
 Ned was too tough to look upon it as more than a some- 
 what rough practical joke, likely to pall upon a man if 
 repeated too often, but to Chance that camp was a camp 
 of misery and a place of tears. There was water, but 
 it was a long way downhill; there was, as Cruick- 
 shank said, timber enough to keep a mill going for a 
 twelvemonth, but whatever was worth having for fire- 
 wood was either uphill or dov/nhill — you had to climb 
 for everything you happened to want; and to wind up 
 with, you absolutely had to dig a sort of shelf out of 
 the hillside upon which to pitch your tent. 
 
 It was here, too, that Steve had his first real experi- 
 
 I 
 
 

 THE WET CAMP. W 
 
 ence of camping out. He helped to unpack the horses, 
 but he took so long to retrieve the bale which had 
 gone downhill that some one had to lend him a hand 
 even with the one beast which he unpacked. He volun- 
 teered to cook, but when on investigation it was dis- 
 covered that he would have fried beans without boiling 
 them, a community unduly careful of its digestion 
 scornfully refused his assistance. In despair he seized 
 an axe, and went away as "a hewer of wood and a 
 drawer of water." By and by the voice of his own 
 familiar friend came to him again and again in tones 
 of cruel derision: 
 
 " Where is that tree coming down, Steve?" 
 
 " I don't know and don't care, but it's got to come 
 somewhere," replied the operator angrily, as he hewed 
 blindly at the tough green pine. 
 
 " But it v/on't do for firewood anyway, Steve, this 
 year, and if you don't take care you will never need 
 firewood again. Don't you know how to make a 
 tree fall where you want it to?" and Ned took the 
 tool from his hand, and completing what his com- 
 panion had so badly begun, laid the tree out of harm's 
 way. 
 
 " Well, it seems that I can't do anything to please 
 you," grumbled Steve, now thoroughly angry. "When 
 there is anything that you and Cruickshank reckon 
 you want my help in you can call me, Corbett. I'll 
 go and smoke whilst you run this show to your own 
 satisfaction." 
 
 "No you won't, old man, and you won't get riled 
 either. Just be a good chap and go and cut us some 
 brush for bedding. See, this is the best kind," and Ned 
 held out to his friend a branch of hemlock. Although 
 an hour later Ned noticed that there was every kind 
 
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 70 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO 1" 
 
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 of brush except hemlock in the pile which Steve had 
 collected, he wisely complimented him on his work, 
 and said nothing about his mistake. A man does not 
 become a woodsman in a week. 
 
 Meanwhile the tent had been pitched ; Cruickshank 
 was just climbing up the hill again after driving the 
 ponies to a swamp down below, and old Phon was 
 handling a frying-pan full,of the largest and thickest 
 rashers of bacon on record. Little crisp ringleta of 
 fried bacon may serve very well for the breakfast of 
 pampered civilization, but if you did not cut your 
 rashers thick out in the woods you would never stop 
 cutting. 
 
 Lucky would it have been for Steve and Ned if 
 rough fare and a rocky camp had been the w rst 
 troubles in store for them, but unluckily, even as they 
 lit tlieir post-prandial pipes, the storm-clouds began to 
 blow up the valley, ragged and brown, and whilst 
 poor Steve was still tossing on a sleepless pillow, 
 vexed by the effects of black tea on his nerves, and 
 crawling beasts upon his sensitive skin, the first great 
 drops of the coming storm splashed heavily on the 
 sides of the tent. 
 
 Of course the tent was new. Everything the two 
 young miners had was new, brand-new, and made 
 upon the most recent and improved lines. None of 
 the old, time-tried contrivances of practical men are 
 ever good enough for beginners. So the fourth or fifth 
 drop of rain which hit that tent came through as if it 
 had been a sieve, and when well-meaning Steve rubbed 
 his hand over the place "feeling for the leak," the 
 water came in in a stream. 
 
 When the next morning broke, the wanderers looked 
 out upon that most miserable of all things, a wet 
 
 I* 
 
 m i 
 
1.1 
 
 THE WET CAMP. 
 
 n 
 
 \ 
 
 camp in the woods. The misery of a wet camp is the 
 one convincing argument in favour of civilization. 
 
 It was still early in the year, and the season was a 
 late one even for British Columbia, amongst whose 
 mountains winter never yields without a struggla 
 On the dead embers of last night's camp-fire were 
 slowly melting snowflakes, and a chill wet wind crept 
 into Ned's bosom, as he looked out upon the morning, 
 and made him chudder. 
 
 But Ned was hard, so that careless of rain and 
 puddles he splashed out past the camp-fire, and after 
 a good many failures kindled a little comparatively 
 dry wood, over which to make the morning tea, and 
 then drew upon himself the scorn of that old cam- 
 paigner Cruickshank by washing. 
 
 What work they could find to do the men did, but 
 even so the hours went wearily by. Cruickshank was 
 opposed to making a start, for fear lest the rain should 
 damage the packs, which now lay all snug beneath 
 their manteaux. So they waited until Cruickshank 
 was tired of smoking, and Roberts of hearing himself 
 sing; until Corbett could sleep no more, and Steve 
 was hoarse with grumbling. Only Phon, lost in 
 thought which white men cannot fathom, and the pack 
 animals full of sweet young grass, seemed content. 
 
 For three whole days the party stopped in the same 
 camp, gazing hour after hour upon a limited view of 
 stifi' burnt pines, with the melting snow drifting down 
 tlu'ough them, and the fog wrapping them and hiding 
 away all the distance. Even the fire of piled logs 
 shone, not with heat but with damp, and the monoto- 
 nous splash of the drops as they fell from a leak in the 
 tent into the frying-pan set to catch them, combined 
 with Phon's harsh cough, to break the silence. 
 
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 72 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIPOOl" 
 
 At last, when even Nod was be«^inning to think of 
 rheumatism, and to lonfj for a glass of hot toddy and 
 a Turkish hatli, tlio sun came back again, and cast 
 long rich shadows from the red stems of the bull-pines 
 across the trail, over which Steve nearly ran, in his 
 anxiety to leave the wet camp as far behind him as 
 possible. 
 
 But even the wet camp was only the beginning of 
 troubles. Three days they lost waiting for the sun, 
 and in the next camp they waited three more days 
 for their horses. 
 
 At the first camp Cruickshank had been careful to 
 hobble the horses, which would not have strayed had 
 he left them free in a small naturally inclosed pasture, 
 like that swamp at the foot of the side hills. But at 
 the second camp, where the feed was bad and the ways 
 open, he neglected to hobble any of them, and, oddly 
 enough, old packer though he was, he overlooked the 
 whole band in his first day's search, so that no one 
 went that way to look for them again, until it oc- 
 curred to Corbett to try to puzzle out their tracks in 
 that direction for himself. There he found them, in 
 the very meadow in which they had pastured the first 
 night, all standing in a row behind a msh no bigger 
 than a cabbage, old Job at their head, every nose down, 
 every ear still, even Job's blue eye fixed in a kind of 
 glassy stare, and the bell round Job's neck dumb, for 
 it was full of mud and leaves. It was deuced odd, 
 Ned thought, as he drove the beasts home. Cruick- 
 shank didn't seern to know as much of packing and 
 the care of horses as he appeared to know at first; but 
 if he knew too little, that wall-eyed fiend, Job, knew 
 too much. 
 
 Anyway, they had taken eight days to do two days' 
 
 *. 
 
r 
 
 FAOINO DEATH ON THE STONK-BLIDE. 
 
 73 
 
 travel, up to that time. It wa,s well that they had 
 ample time in which to make thoir journey to Caril)(X). 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 TACINO DEATH ON THE STONK-SLIDE. 
 
 IT was the last day of Corbett's journey between the 
 Harrison and the Frazer, arid a boiling hot day at 
 that. With the exception of Corbett himself, and per- 
 haps Cruickshank, whose back alone was visible as he 
 led the train, the whole outfit had relapHCMl into that 
 dull mechanical gait peculiar to packers and p?i>ck 
 animals. To Chance it seemed that he was in a dream — 
 a dream in which he went incessantly up and up or 
 down, down day after day without pause or change. 
 To him it seemed that there was always the same gray 
 stone-slide under foot, the same hot sun overheard, and 
 the same gleaming blue lake far below; like the pack 
 animals, he was content to plod along hour after hour, 
 seeing nothing, thinking of nothing, unless it was of 
 that blessed hour when the camp would bo pitched 
 and the tea made, and the soothing pipe be lighted. 
 
 But though Chance had no eyes for it, the end of tliis 
 first part of his journey was near at hand. Fourteen 
 miles away the great grisly mountains came together 
 and threw a shadow upon Seton Lake, building a 
 wall and setting a barrier over or through which there 
 seemed no possible way of escape. As Corbett looked 
 at?it, he could see the trees quite plainly on the narrow 
 rim of grass between that mountain wall and the lake, 
 and though he could not see that too, he knew that 
 
 
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 ..11 
 
74 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO 1" 
 
 m ■ f 
 
 through them ran a trail which led to Lillooet on the 
 Frazer. Even Ned longed to reach that trail and catch 
 a glimpse of the little town, in which he and his weary 
 beasts might take at least one day's rest and refresh- 
 ment. 
 
 Since leaving Douglas, Cruickshank and Corbett 
 had been upon the best of terms. Cruickshank knew 
 how everything ought to be done, and Corbett was 
 quick and tireless to do it, so that between them these 
 two did most of the work of the camp; and though 
 Ned noticed that his guide was not as anxious to get 
 to Lillooet as he had been to get away from Douglas, 
 he made allowances for him. Cruickshank .as hardly 
 a young man, and no doubt his strength was not equal 
 to his will. 
 
 As to the straying of the horses at the second camp, 
 there could be but one opinion. It was a bad mistake 
 to leave them unhobbled; but after all everyone made 
 mistakes sometimes, and though that mistake had 
 involved the loss of a great deal of time, it was the 
 only one which could be laid to Cruickshank's account. 
 So far not one single thing, however unimportant, had 
 been left behind in camp or lost upon the trail; there 
 had been no accidents, no lost packs, nor any sign of 
 sore backs. Day after day Cruickshank himself had 
 led the train, choosing the best going for his ponies, 
 and seeing them safely past every projecting rock and 
 over every nrnauvais pas. 
 
 On this day for the first time Cruickshank proposed 
 to give up his position in front of the train to Ned. 
 Stopping at a place where there was room to shunt the 
 rear of his column to the front, the colonel hailed Ned, 
 and suggested that they should change places. 
 
 " Come on and set us a quick step, Corbett Even 
 
FACING DEATH ON THE STONE-SLIDE. 
 
 n 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 if you do overtire the ponies a bit, it doesn't matter 
 now that we are so near Lillooet. They can rest there 
 as much as they like." 
 
 " Very well. I expect you must want a change, and 
 I'll bet old Steve does. Why, you have hardly had 
 anyone to speak to for a week," replied Corbett good- 
 naturedly. 
 
 " That's so, but I must save my breath a little longer 
 still. If Roberts will go behind with Phon and Chance, 
 I'll keep the first detachment as close to your heels as 
 I can; and, by the way, we had better make a change 
 with the horses whilst we are about it." 
 
 "Why?" asked Ned. "What is the matter with 
 them?" 
 
 "Not much, but if we are to have any more swimming 
 across places where the bridging is broken down, we 
 may as well have the horses that take kindly to water 
 in front, and send that mean old beast to the rear;" and 
 the colonel pointed to Job, which with its head on one 
 side and an unearthly glare in its blue eye, appeared 
 to be listening to what was being said. 
 
 " All right, we can do that here if you will lend a 
 hand. Which shall we put the bell on?" and Ned took 
 the bell off Job, and turned that veteran over to the 
 second half of the train. 
 
 " Put it on this fellow ; he takes to the water like an 
 otter, and he will make a good leader. Wherever his 
 packs can go, any of the others can follow;" and Cruick- 
 shank pointed to the great bulging bales upon the 
 back of the buckskin. 
 
 "I expect Steve and Roberts packed him, didn't 
 they?" Cruickshank added. "Well, they aren't pretty 
 to look at, but I guess they'll stick;" and so sapng, he 
 gave the buckskin a smack on his quarters which sent 
 
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 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO 1" 
 
 that big star-gazing brute trotting to the front, where 
 Ned invested him with the order of the bell. 
 
 "Is it all right now, Cruickshank?" asked Corbett. 
 
 " All right." 
 
 "Forrard away then!" cried Ned, and turning he 
 strode merrily along a narrow trail, which wound up 
 and up across such sheer precipitous side hills as would 
 make some men dizzy to look at. A slip in some places 
 would have meant death to those who slipped, long 
 before their bruised bodies could reach the edge of the 
 lake glittering far below ; but neither men in mocccusins 
 nor mountain ponies are given to slipping. 
 
 After the rain had come the sunshine and the genial 
 warmth of spring, under the influence of which every 
 hill was musical with new-born rivulets, and every 
 level place brilliant with young grass. The very stone- 
 slides blossomed in great clumps of purple gentian, 
 and over even the stoniest places crept the tendrils of 
 the Oregon vine, with its thorny shining leaves and 
 flower-clusters of pale gold. 
 
 Now and again the trail rose or fell so much that it 
 seemed to Ned as if he had passed from one season of 
 flowers to another. Down by the lake, where the 
 pack animals splashed along the bed of a little mountain 
 stream, the first wild rose was opening, a mere speck 
 of pink in the cool darkness made by the overhanging 
 bushes. Here by the lake side, too, were numerous 
 butterflies — great yellow and black "swallow tails," 
 hovering in small clouds over the damp stones, oi 
 Camberwell beauties in royal purple, floating through 
 sun and shadow on wings as graceful in flight as 
 they were rich in colour. Higher up, where the sun 
 had heated the stone-slides to a white heat, were more 
 butterflies (fritillaries and commas and tortoise-shells), 
 
FAOINQ DEATH ON THE STONE-SLIDE. 
 
 Tt 
 
 J. 
 
 i 
 
 while now and again a flash of orange and a shrill 
 little screech told Ned that a humming-bird went 
 
 In the highest places of all, VNhere the snow still 
 lingered in tiny patches, the red -eyed spruce -cocks 
 hooted from the pines, the ruffed grouse strutted and 
 boomed in the thickets, and the yellow flowers of lilies 
 gave promise of many a meal for old Ephraim, when 
 their sweet bulbs should be a few weeks older. 
 
 To Ned, merely to swing along day after day in the 
 sunshine and note these things, was gladness enough, 
 and it was little notice he took of heat, or thirst, or 
 weariness. Unfortunately he became too absorbed, 
 and as often happens with men unused to leading out, 
 forgot his train and walked right away from his ponies. 
 
 When this fact dawned upon him it was nearly 
 mid-day, and he found himself at the highest point 
 which the path had yet reached, from which, looking 
 back, he could see the train crawling wearily after him. 
 He could see, too, that Cruickshank was signalling 
 him to stop, so nothing loth Ned sat down and waited. 
 The path where he sat came out to a sharp promon- 
 tory, and turning round this it began to pass over the 
 worst stone-slide Ned had yet seen. Most of those he 
 had hitherto encountered had been mere narrow strips 
 of bad going from fifty to a hundred yards across, but 
 this was nearly five hundred yards from side to side, 
 and except where the trail ran, there was not foothold 
 upon it for a fly. Properly speaking it was not, as 
 the natives called it, a stone-slide at all, but rather the 
 bed or shoot, by which, century after century, some 
 hundreds of stone-slides had gone crashing down into 
 the lake below. 
 
 As soon as Ned had assured himself that the train was 
 
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 "QOLIJ, GOLD IN CARIBOO !" 
 
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 once more as near to him as it ought to be, he knocked 
 off as much of the projecting corner as he could, and 
 passed round it on to the shde. 
 
 Looking up from the narrow trail, the young English- 
 man C'juki see the great rocks which hung out from 
 the cliffs above; rockf; whose fellows had been the 
 makers of this; slide, letting go their hold up above ls 
 the snows meitod and the rains sapped their founda- 
 tions, and then thundering down to the lake with such 
 an army or si^fJl atones and debris that it seemed as 
 if the whole mountain-side was moving. When this 
 stone-avalanchi? crashed into the water a wave rolled 
 out upon the lake big as an ocean swell from shore to 
 shore. 
 
 Looking down, a smooth shoot sloped at an angle 
 from him to tiie blue water. 
 
 " Well, that is pretty sheer," muttered Ned, craning 
 his neck to look down to where the lake glistened a 
 thousand feet below, "and if one of our ponies gets his 
 feet off this trail, there won't be anything of him left 
 unbroken except his shoes;" and so sayuig, he turned 
 to see how *ihe leader wo aid turn the awkward corner 
 which led on to this via diaholica. 
 
 As he did so the report of a pistol rang out sharp 
 and clear, followed by a vwh and the clatter of falling 
 stones, and the next moment Ned saw the leading pony 
 dash round the overhanging rocks, its ropes all loose, 
 its packs swinging almost under its belly, its bell 
 ringiag as if it were possessed, and its eyes starting 
 from its hea-d in the insanity of terror. 
 
 At every stride it was touch-and-go whether the 
 brute would keep its legs or not. Each slip and each 
 recovery at that flying pace was in itself a miracle, and 
 Ned hardly hoped that he could stop the maddened 
 
 ^ 
 
 ,it 
 
FACINa DEATH ON THE jTONE-SLIDE. 
 
 79 
 
 '# 
 
 
 
 beast before it and the packs went crashing down to 
 the lake. 
 
 Stop the pony! He might as well have tried to 
 stop a stone-slide. And as he realized this, the danger 
 of his own position flashed across him for the tirst 
 time. 
 
 Coming towards him, now not fifty yards away, was 
 the maddened horse, which probably could not have 
 stopped if it wanted to in that distance, and on such a 
 course. Behind Ned was four hundred yards of such a 
 trail as he hardly dared to run over to escape death, and 
 even if he had dared, what chance in the race would 
 he have had against the horse ? Above him there was 
 nothing to which even his strong fingers could cling, 
 and below the trail — well, he had already calculated 
 on the chances of any living thing finding foothold 
 below the trail. Instinctively Ned shouted and threw 
 up his hands. He might as well have tried to blow 
 the horse hack with his breath. In another ten seconds 
 the brute would be upon him ; in other words, in an- 
 other ten seconds horse and packs and Ned Corbett 
 would be the centre of a little dust-storm bounding 
 frantically down that steep path to death ! 
 
 In such a crisis as this men think fast, or lose their 
 wits altogether. Some, perhaps, rather than face the 
 horror of their position shut their eyes, mental and 
 physical, and are glad to die and get it over. Ned was 
 of the other kind: tiie kind that will face anything 
 with their eyes open, and fight their last round with 
 death with eyes that will only close when the life is 
 out of them. 
 
 There was just one chance for life, and having his 
 eyes open, Ned saw it and took it. 
 
 Twentj/ yards from hira now was that hideous mad- 
 
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 80 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CAPIBOOl' 
 
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 11 
 
 
 
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 dened brute, with its ears laid back, its teeth showing, 
 the foam flying from its jaws, and its great blood-shot 
 eyes almost starting from their sockets. Twenty yards, 
 and the pace the brute was coming at was the pace of 
 a locomotive ! 
 
 And yet, though Corbett's face was gray as a March 
 morning, and his square jaws set like a steel trap, 
 there was no blinking in his eyes. He saw the blow 
 coming, and quick as light he countered. Never on 
 parade in the old school corps did his rifle come to his 
 shoulder more steadily than it came now ; not a nerve 
 throbbed as he pressed (not pulled) the trigger, nor was 
 it until he stood alone upon that narrow path that his 
 knees began to rock beneath him, while the cold per- 
 spiration poured down his drawn white face in streams. 
 
 One man only besides Corbett saw that drama; one 
 man, whose features wore a look of which hell might 
 have been proud, so fiendish was it in its disappointed 
 malice, when through the dust he saw the red flame 
 flash, and then, almost before the report reached him, 
 saw the body of the big buckskin, a limp bagful of 
 broken bones, splash heavily into the Seton Lake. 
 
 But the look passed as a cloud passes on a windy 
 morning, and the next moment Cruickshank was at 
 Corbett's side, a flood of congratulations and inquiries 
 pouring from his ready lips. As for Ned, now that 
 the danger was over, he was utterly unstrung, and a 
 bold enemy might have easily done for him that which 
 the runaway horse had failed to do. Perhaps that 
 thought never occurred to any enemy of Ned's ; per- 
 haps the quick, backward glance, in which Cruickshank 
 recognized old Roberts' purple features, was as eflectual 
 a safeguard to the young man's life as even his own 
 good rifle had been ; be that as it may, a few moments 
 
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 CORBETT SEIZES HIn ONE CIIANCK \0\\ I. HE 
 
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 FACING DEATH ON THE STONE-SUDE. 
 
 81 
 
 later Ned stumbled along after his friend to a place of 
 safety, and there sat down again to collect himself. 
 
 Meanwhile, Roberts and Cruickshank stood looking 
 at one anotlier, an expression in the old poet's face, 
 which neither Oorbett nor Cruickshank had ever seen 
 tliere before, the hand in his coat pocket grasping a 
 revolver, whose ugly muzzle -./as ready to belch out 
 death from that pocket's corner at a moment's notice. 
 At last Cruickshank spoke in a voice so full of genuine 
 sorrow, that even Roberts slackened his hold upon the 
 weapon concealed in his coat pocket. 
 
 "You've had a near shave to-day, Corbett, and it 
 was my fault. I am almost ashamed to ask you to 
 forgive me." 
 
 " How — what do you mean ? Did you fire that shot ? " 
 
 " I did, like a cursed idiot," replied Cruickshank. 
 
 Roberts' face was a study for an artist. Speechless 
 surprise reigned upon it supreme. 
 
 " I did," Cruickshank rept^ated. " I fired at a grouse 
 that was hooting in a bull -pine by the track, and I 
 suppose tliat that scared the cayuse — though I've never 
 known a imck-horse mind n, man shootint;- before." 
 
 "Nor I," mutti'rod Roberts. "I suppose you didn't 
 notice if you hit that fool - hen, Colonel Cruick- 
 shank^" 
 
 " No; I don't suppose I did. I'd enough to think of 
 when I saw what I had done." 
 
 " Well, it didn't fly away, and it ain't there now," 
 persisted Roberts. " Perhaps you'd like to go and look 
 for it." 
 
 However, Cruickshank took no notice of Roberts' 
 speech, but held out his hand to Corbett with such an 
 honest expression of sorrow, that if it was not sincere, 
 it was superb as a piece of acting. 
 
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 82 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO!" 
 
 
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 Without a word Corbett took the proffered hand. 
 There a,re some natures which find it hard to suspect 
 evil in others, and Ned Corbett's was one of these. 
 Only he made a mental note, that though Cruiekshank 
 had only made two mistakes since starting from 
 Douglas, they had both been or rather a serious nature. 
 
 Only one man climbed down to look at the dead 
 cayuse as it lay half hidden in the shallow water at the 
 edge of tlib lake, and that was only a Chinaman. Of 
 course he went to see what he could save from the 
 wreck; equally, of course, he found nothing worth bring- 
 ing away; found nothing and noticed nothing, or if he 
 did, only told what he had seen to old Roberts. There 
 seemed to be an understanding between these two, for 
 Phon trusted the hearty old Shropshireman as much 
 as he seemed to dread and avoid the colonel. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THElll FIRST "COLOUllS." 
 
 LILLOOETatlast!" 
 Steve Chance was the speaker, and as his eyes 
 rested upon the Frazer, just visible from the first 
 blufl' which overlooks the Lillooet, his spirits rose so 
 that he almost shouted aloud for joy. There beneath 
 him, only a short mile away, lay most of the things 
 which he longed for: rest after labour, good food, and 
 pleasant drinks. Steve's cravings may not have been 
 the craviiii'S of an ideal artist's nature, but let those 
 who would cavil at them tramp for a week over stone- 
 slides and through alkaline dust, and then decide if 
 
THEIR FIRST "COLOURS." 
 
 83 
 
 ;l 
 
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 if 
 
 . I 
 
 these are not the natural longings of an ordinary 
 
 man. 
 
 To tell the whole truth, Steve had amused himself 
 and his comrade Roberts for more than a mile ])y 
 discussing what they would order to eat and drink 
 when once they reached comparative civilization again. 
 Even the hardest of men tire in time of bacon and 
 beans and tea. 
 
 A " John Collins," a seductive fluid, taken in a long 
 glass and sipped through a straw, was perhaps what 
 Steve hankered after most; but there were many other 
 things which he longed for besides that most delect- 
 able of drinks, such for instance as a "full bath," a 
 beefsteak, and clean sheets to follow. 
 
 Alas, poor Steve ! There was the Frazer to wash in 
 if he liked, and no doubt he could have obtained some- 
 thing which called itself a steak at the saloon, but a 
 " John Collins " and clean sheets he was not likely to 
 obtain west of Chicago. 
 
 Indeed, to this day long glasses and "drinkctty 
 drinks" are rare in the wild west; "drunketty drinks" 
 out of short thick vulcjar little tumblers bein<x the order 
 of the day. And apart from all this, Lillooet, though 
 larger in 1862 than it is to-day, was even then but a 
 poor little town, a town consisting only of one long 
 strau-jxlino- street, which looked as if it had lost its wav 
 on a great mud-bluff by the river. Benches of yellow 
 mud and gray-green sage-brush rose al)ove and around 
 the " city," tier above tier, until they lost themselves 
 in the mountains which gathered round, and deep down 
 at the foot of the blufls the Frazer roared along. 
 
 Since Cl»ance had last seen the Frazer at West- 
 minster its character had considerably changed. There 
 it was a dull heavy flood, at least half a mile in 
 
 \^ 
 
 I I : 
 
 i 
 
 M 
 
 
 ■i 
 
 G^ 
 
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 ?5( 
 
 
 il- r 
 
 84 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO 1" 
 
 breadth from bank to bank ; here it was an angry 
 torrent, roaring between steep overhanging banks, 
 nowhere two hundred yards apart. There the river 
 ran by flat lands, and fields which men might farm; 
 here the impending mountains hung threateningly 
 above it. The most daring steamboat which had ever 
 plied upon the Frazer liad not come nearer to Lillooet 
 than Lytton, and that was full forty miles down 
 stream. 
 
 In one thing only the Frazer was unchanged. At 
 Lillooet, as at Westminster, it was a sordid yellow 
 river, with no sparkle in it, no blue backwaters, no 
 shallows through which the pebbles shone like jewels 
 through liquid sunshine. And yet, artist though he 
 was in a poor tradesman-like fashion, Steve gazed on 
 the Frazer with a rapture which no other stream 
 had ever awakened in him. At the portage between 
 Seton and Anderson lakes he had passed a stream 
 such as an angler dreams of in his dusty chambers 
 on a summer afternoon, but he had hardly wasted a 
 second glance upon it. Only trout lay there, great 
 purple-spotted fellows, who would make the line vi- 
 brate like a harp string, and thrash the water into 
 foam, ere they allowed themselves to be basketed ; but 
 in the Frazer, though the fish were only torpid, half- 
 putrid salmon, that would not even take a fiy, there 
 w^as gold, and gold filled Steve's brain and eyes and 
 heart just then to the exclusion of every other created 
 thing. All he wanted was gold, gold; and his spirits 
 rose higher and higher as he noted the flumes which 
 ran along the river banks, and saw the little groups of 
 blue-shirted Chinamen who squatted by their rockers, 
 or shovelled the gravel into their ditches. 
 
 So keen, indeed, was Steve to be at work amongst 
 
THEIR FIRST "COLOURS.' 
 
 85 
 
 igst 
 
 I 
 
 his beloved "dirt," that tired though he was, he per- 
 suaded Ned to come with him and wash a shovelful of 
 it, whilst dinner was being prepared. 
 
 Right at the back of the town a little company of 
 white men had dug deep into the gravel of the beach, 
 set their flumes, and turned on a somewhat scanty 
 supply of water, and hero Steve obtained his flrst 
 " colours." 
 
 A tall old man who ran the mine lent him a shovel, 
 and showed him where to fill it with likely-looking 
 dirt; taught him how to dip the edge of his shovel in 
 the bucket, and slowly swill the water thus obtained 
 round and round, so as to wash away the big stones 
 and the gravel which he did not want. 
 
 The operation looks easier than it is, and at first 
 Steve washed his shovel cleaner than he meant to, in 
 a very short time. By and by, however, he learnt the 
 trick, and was rewarded by seeing a patch of fine gravel 
 left in the hollow of the shovel, with here antl there a 
 tiny ruby amongst it, and here and there an agate. The 
 next washing took away everything except a sediment 
 of fine black sand, — sand which will fly to a magnet, 
 and is the constant associate and sure indication of 
 gold. 
 
 Steve was going to give this another wash when 
 old Pete stopped him. " Steady, my lad, don't wash 
 it all away; there it is, don't you see it!" and sure 
 enough there it was, up by the point of the shovel, 
 seven, eight — a dozen small red specks, things that 
 you almost needed a microscope to see, not half as 
 beautiful as the little rubies or the pure white agates; 
 but this was gold, and when the old miner, taking 
 back his shovel, dipped it carelessly into the water 
 of his flume, Chance felt for a moment a pang of 
 
 M 
 
 • I 
 
 ■^1 
 
 fi 
 
 .^1 
 
IfTfT 
 
 86 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO!" 
 
 indignation at seeing his first "colours" treated with 
 such scant ceremony, although the twelve specks 
 together were not, in all probability, worth a cent. 
 
 But the sight of the gold put new lii'e into Chance 
 and filled Phon's veins with fever. One niuht at 
 Lillooet, Steve said, was rest enough for him ; and most 
 of that night he and Phon spent either down by the 
 river or in the saloon, watching the Chinese over their 
 rockers, or listening to the latest accounts from Cariboo. 
 Men could earn good wages placer mining at Lillooet in 
 '62, even as they can now, but all who could atibrd it 
 were pushing on up stream to golden Cariboo. What 
 was five dollars a day, or ten, or even twenty for the 
 matter of that, when other men were digging out 
 fortunes daily on Williams Creek and Antler Cunning- 
 ham's, and the Cottonwood? 
 
 And in this matter Cruickshank humoured Steve's 
 feverish impatience to get on. Here, as at Douglas, the 
 gallant colonel showed a strange reluctance to mingle 
 with his fellows, or at least with such of them as had 
 passed a season in the upper country, and even went 
 so far as to camp out a mile away from the town, to 
 give the pack animals a better chance of getting good 
 feed, and to secure them, so he said, against all temp- 
 tations to stray up stream with somebody else. Horse- 
 flesh was dear at Lillooet in '62; and the colonel said 
 that morals were lax, though why they should have 
 been woj-se than at Westminster, Ned could not under- 
 stand. 
 
 However, it suited him to go on, so he raised no 
 objection to Cruickshank's plans, more especially as 
 the rest did not seem beneficial to his honest old 
 chum, Roberts, who had been the centre of a liard- 
 drinkiug, hard-swearing lot of mining men, ever since 
 
 t 
 
 V 
 
t 
 
 THEIR FIRST "COLOURS." 
 
 87 
 
 he arrived at Lillooet. Whenever Ned came near, these 
 men sunk their voices to a whisper, and once when 
 Cruickshank came in sight, the scowl upon their brows 
 grew so dark, and their mutterings so ominous, that 
 the colonel took the hint and vanished immediately. 
 When Ned saw him next he was at their trysting- 
 place, a mile and a halt' from the saloon, and very 
 impatient to he off, — so impatient, indeed, that he abso- 
 lutely refused to wait for Roberts, who, he "guessed," 
 was drunk. 
 
 "Those old-timers are all V.ie same when they get 
 amongst pals, and as for Roberts, we are deuced well 
 rid of him, he is no use anyway," said the colonel. 
 
 This might very well be Cruicksliank's opinion. 
 It was not Ned's, and Ned had a way of thinking and 
 acting for himself, so without any waste of words he 
 bade his comrades "drive ahead," whilst he turned 
 back in search of Roberts, 
 
 By some accident this worthy had not heard of the 
 intended start, and w^as, as Ned expected, as innocent 
 of any intention to desert as he was of drunkenness. 
 
 When Ned found him he was sitting in the bar- 
 room with a lot of his pals, and the conversation 
 round him had grown loud and angry; indeed, as Ned 
 entered, a rough, weather-beaten fellow in his shirt 
 sleeves was shouting at the top of his voice, "What 
 the deuce is the good of all this jaw? Lynch the bilk, 
 that's what I say, and save trouble." 
 
 But Ned's appetirance put a stop to the proceedings, 
 though an angrj ^; • vl broke out when he w-as over- 
 heard to 9«iy tha , Cruickshank and Steve had started 
 half an hour ago, aju' that he himself had come back 
 to look for old Roberts. 
 
 "Don't you g^, Bob," urged one of his comrades; 
 
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 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO I" 
 
 "them young Britishers are bound to stay by their 
 packs, but you've no call to." 
 
 "Not you. You'll stay right here, if you ain't a 
 born fool," urged another. 
 
 But Bob was not to be coaxed or bantered out o? 
 his determination to stay by his brother Salopian. 
 
 " No, lads," he retorted, " I ain't a born fool, and I 
 am't the sort to go back on a paL If Corbett goes 
 I'm going, though I don't pretend to be over-keen on 
 the job." 
 
 "Wal, if you will go, go and be hanged to you; 
 only. Bob, keep your eye skinned, and, I say, shoot 
 fast next time, akoot fuat; now don't you forget it!" 
 with which mysterious injunction Bob's big friend 
 reeled up from the table (he was half-drunk already), 
 shook hands, " liquored " once more, and left. He said 
 he had some business to attend to down town ; and as 
 it was nearly noon, and he had done nothing but smoke 
 and drink sLort drinks since breakfast-time, he was 
 probably right in thinking that it was time to attend 
 to it. 
 
 Whilst this gentleman rolled away down the street 
 with a fine free stride, requiring a good deal of sea- 
 room, Ned and his friend had to put their best feet 
 foremost (as the saying is) to make up for lost time. 
 When you are walking fast over rough ground you 
 have nob much breath left for conversation, and this, 
 perhaps, and the roar of the sullen river, accounts for 
 the fact that the two men strode along in silence, 
 neither of them alluding to the conversation just over- 
 heard in the saloon, although the minds of both were 
 running upon that subject, and Ned noticed that the 
 pistol which Roberts pulled out and examined as they 
 went along was a recent purchase. 
 
 ; 
 
 I 
 
uimui 
 
 UNDER THE BALM-OF-GILEAD TREE. 
 
 89 
 
 "Hullo, you've got a new gun, Rob," he remarked. 
 Everything with which men shoot is called a gun in 
 British Columbia. 
 
 " Yes, it's one I bought at Lillooet. I hadn't got a 
 good one with me." 
 
 " Well, I don't suppose you'll want it, now you have 
 got it," replied Corbett. 
 
 "Well, I don't know. I might want it to shoot 
 grouse with by the side of the trail." 
 
 And the old fellow laid such an emphasis upon his 
 last words and chuckled so grimly, that Ned half sus- 
 pected that he had wetted his whistle once too often 
 after all 
 
 lii i 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 UNDER THE BALM-OF-OILEAD TREE 
 
 FROM noon of the day upon which Ned Corbett and 
 old Roberts strode out of Lillooet until the night 
 upon which we meet them again was a fortnight and 
 more, a fortnight of which I might, if I chose, write a 
 history, but it would only be the history of almost 
 every mining party and pack-train that ever went up 
 the Frazer. The incidents of those days are indelibly 
 engraved upon the memories of Steve and of Corbett, 
 but to Roberts they passed without remark and left 
 no impression behind. The life was only the ordinary 
 miner's life; and there was nothing new to the old- 
 timer in buoyant hopes wearing away day by day; 
 nothing new in the daily routine of camps broken by 
 starlight and pitched again at dusk ; in trails blocked 
 by windfalls or destroyed by landslips; in packs which 
 
 
 i 
 
ff 
 
 T 
 
 90 
 
 ''GOLD, QOLD IN CARIBOO 1" 
 
 would shift, tie them ever so tightly ; in stones which 
 cut the moccasins, and prickly pears which filled the 
 sole with anguish ; or in cruel fire-hardened rampikes, 
 which tore the skin to rags and the clothes to ribands. 
 Three weeks upon the road had done its work upon 
 the party, had added much to their knowledge, and 
 taken much away that was useless from their equip- 
 ment. 
 
 When they left Westminster they were five smart, 
 well-fed, civilized human beings; when they struggled 
 up out of the valley of the Frazer towards Cariboo, at 
 Soda Creek, they were five lean, weather-hardened men, 
 their clothes all rags and patches, their skin all wounded 
 and blistered, every "indispensable adjunct of a camp," 
 as made by Mr. Silver, discarded long ago; but every 
 article of camp furniture which was left, carried where 
 it could be got at, ready when it was wanted, and 
 thoroughly adapted to the rough and ready uses of 
 those who took the trouble to " pack it along." 
 
 Even to Steve it seemed ages now since his nostrils 
 were used to any other odour than the pungent scent 
 of the pines; ages since his ears listened to any other 
 sound than the roar of the yellow river and the 
 monotonous tinkle of the leader's bell; ages even since 
 washing had been to him as a sacred rite, and a clean 
 shirt as desirable as a clean conscience. 
 
 And yet Corbett and Chance had seen, on their way 
 up, men who led liarder lives than thuirs ; blue-shirted, 
 bearded fellows, who carried their all upon their own 
 shoulilers; and others who had put their tools and 
 their grub in the craziest of crafts, and, climbing one 
 moment and wading the next, strove to drag it up 
 stream in the teeth of the Frazer. 
 
 As Ned saw the frail canoes rear up on end against 
 
UNDER THE BAI^-OF-OILEAD TREE. 
 
 the angry waters, he understood why the old river 
 carried so many down stream whose dead hands 
 grasped uo dollars, whose dead lips told no tales. But 
 the river trail had come to an end at last, and the five 
 were now steering north-east for the bold mountains 
 and their gold-bearing rivers and creeks. They had 
 now put many a mile between themselves and Soda 
 Creek, and were lying smoking round their camp-fire, 
 built under a huge balm-of-gilead tree, which stood in 
 the driest part of what we call a swamp, and Canadians 
 a meadow. The pack-saddles were set in orderly line, 
 with their ropes and cinches neatly coiled alongside 
 them ; the packs were snug under their manteaux, and 
 the tent was pitched as men pitch a tent who are used 
 to their work, not with its sides all bellying in, strained 
 in one place slack in another, but just loose enough to 
 allow for a wetting if it should happen to rain in the 
 night. Now and again the bell of one of the pack 
 animals sounded not unmusically from some dark 
 corner of the swamp, or the long "ho-ho" of kalula, 
 the night-owl, broke the silence, which but for these 
 sounds would have been complete. 
 
 Suddenly a voice said: 
 
 "Great Scott! do you know what the date is?" 
 
 Since the pipes had been lighted no one had spoken, 
 and as Cruickshank broke the silence, it was almost 
 under protest that Ned rolled round on his blanket to 
 face the speaker, and dropped a monosyllalac " Well ? " 
 The men were too tired to talk, and night, which in these 
 northern forests is very still, had thrown its spell upon 
 them. Steve and Phon merely turned their heads 
 inquiringly to the speaker, who sat upon a log turning 
 over the leaves of a little diary, and waited. 
 
 " To-morrow will be the 27th of May." 
 
92 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO!' 
 
 "The 27th of May— what then ? " asked Ned dream- 
 ily. He was hardly awake to everyday thoughts yet. 
 
 " What then ! What then ! Why, if you are not at 
 Williams Creek by the Ist of June your claims can be 
 jumped by anyone who comes along." 
 
 " But can't we get there by the Ist of June?" asked 
 Ned, sitting up and taking his pipe out of his mouth. 
 
 "Impossible. If you could drive the ponies at a 
 trot you could only just do it. It is five good days' 
 journey with fresh animals, and we have only four to 
 do it in, and grizzlies wouldn't make our ponies trot 
 now." 
 
 "Well, what are we to do?" broke in Chance. " You 
 calculated the time, and said that we had enough and 
 to spare." 
 
 " I know I did, but I made a mistake." 
 
 " Oh to blazes with your mistakes, Colonel Cruick- 
 shank," cried Chance angrily; "they seem to me a bit 
 too expensive to occur quite so often." 
 
 " Don't lose your temper, my good sir. I couldn't 
 help it, but I am willing to atone for it. I calculated 
 as if April had thirty-one days in it, and it hasn't; 
 and, besides, I've dropped a day on the road some- 
 how." 
 
 " Looking for horses," growled Roberts, " or shooting 
 grouse, maybe." 
 
 " What do you propose to do, Colonel Cruickshank ?" 
 asked Corbett, whose face alone seemed still perfectly 
 under his own control. 
 
 " Well, Mr. Corbett, I've led you into the scrape, so 
 I must get you out of it. If either you or Roberts 
 will stay with me I'll bring the horses on for you to 
 Williams Creek, whilst the rest can start away right 
 now and make the best of their time to the claims. 
 
UNDER THB BALM-OF-OILEAD TREE. 
 
 93 
 
 You could do the distance all right if it wasn't for the 
 pack-ponies." 
 
 " But how could I stay ?" asked Corbett 
 
 " Well, you needn't, of course, if Roberts doesn't 
 mind staying; otherwise you could assign your interest 
 in your claim to him, and he could go on and hold it 
 for you." 
 
 " But it will be deuced hard work for two men to 
 manage nine pack-ponies over such a trail as this." 
 
 " It won't be any violets," replied Cruickshank, " you 
 may bet on that ; but it's my fault, so I'll ' foot the 
 bill.'" 
 
 "I don't know about its being your fault either," 
 broke in Corbett, "I was just as big an aso as a man 
 could be. I ought to have calculated the time for 
 myself. Can't we all stop and chance it ? " 
 
 " What, and lose a good many thousand dollars paid, 
 and every chance of making a good many thousand 
 more, for which we have been tramping over a 
 month — that would be lunacy ! " broke in Chance. 
 
 " Well, if you don't mean to lose the claims, I know 
 no other way of getting to Williams Creek in time," 
 said Cruickshank; and, looking up at the sky, he added, 
 " you might have two or three hours' sleep, and then 
 be off bright and early by moonlight. The moon rises 
 late to-night." 
 
 It was a weird scene there by that camp-fire; and 
 there were things written on the faces of those sitting 
 round it, which a mere outsider could have read at a 
 glance. 
 
 The moon might be coming up later on, but just at 
 that moment there was neither moon nor star, only a 
 black darkness, broken by the occasional sputtering 
 flames of the wood fire. Out of the darkness the men's 
 
 I* 
 
 ill'' 
 
94 
 
 *<OOLD, GOLD IN OARIBOO!" 
 
 faces showed from time to time as the red gleams 
 flickered over them; the faces of Corbett, Steve, and 
 Roberts full of perplexity and doubt; the eyes of Phon 
 fixed in a frightened fascinated stare upon the colonel ; 
 and Cruickshank's face white with suppressed excite- 
 ment, the coarse, cruel mouth drawn and twitching, and 
 the eyes glaring like the eyes of a tiger croucliing for 
 its prey. 
 
 "Well, what had we better do?" asked Corbett at last 
 from somewhere amongst the shadows, and Cruick- 
 shank's eyes shifted swiftly to where Steve and Roberts 
 lay, as if anxious to forestall their answer. 
 
 " I'll stay, Ned Corbett. It's safer for me than it 
 would be for you," said Roberts. " I can only lose a 
 little time, not much worth to anyone, and you have 
 a good deal to lose." 
 
 After all it was only a small question. They had 
 driven the pack animals now for a month, and, who- 
 ever stayed, would only at the worst have to drive 
 them for another week. The work, of course, would 
 be rather heavy with only two to divide it among; but 
 on the other hand those who went ahead would have 
 to make forced marches and live upon very short 
 rations. 
 
 Ned was rather surprised then that Roberts answered 
 as if it was a matter of grave import, and that his 
 voice seemed to have lost the jolly ring which was 
 natural to it. 
 
 " Don't stop if you don't like to, old chap. Phon can 
 assign his interests to you and stay behind instead." 
 
 "No, no, me hal6 stay. Hal6! hal6!" and the little 
 Chinaman almost shrieked the last word, so emphatic 
 was his refusal. 
 
 "It's no good leaving Phon," replied Roberts, casting 
 
UNDER THB BALM-OF-OILEAD TREE. 
 
 99 
 
 a pitying look towards that frightened heathen; "he 
 would see devils all the time, and be of no use after it 
 got dark. I tell you, I'll stay and take care of tlie 
 ponies; and now you had better all turn in and get 
 some sleep. You will have to travel pretty lively 
 when you once start. I'll see to your packs." 
 
 Probably Ned had been mistaken from the first, but 
 if any feeling had shaken his friend's voice for a 
 moment, it had quite passed away now, and Roberts 
 was again his own genial, helpful self. 
 
 After all, he was the very best person to leave behind. 
 Except Cruickshank, he was the only really good 
 packer amongst then. He was as strong as a horse, 
 and besides, he had no particular reason for wanting 
 to be at Williams Creek by the 1st of June. 
 
 "You really don't mind stopping, Rob?" asked 
 Corbett. 
 
 "Not a bit. Why should I? I'd do a good deal 
 more than that for you, if it was only for the sake of 
 the dear old country, my lad." 
 
 Again, just for a moment, there seemed to be a sad 
 ring in his voice, and he stretched out his hand and 
 gripped Ned's in the darkness. 
 
 Ned was surprised. 
 
 "The old man is a bit sentimental to-night," he 
 thought. " It's not like him, but, I suppose, these dis- 
 mal woods have put him a little off his balance. Tliey 
 are lonesome." 
 
 With which sage reflection Ned turned his eyes away 
 from the dark vista down which he had been gazing, 
 and rolling round in his blankets forgot both the gloom 
 and the gold. 
 
 For two or three hours the sleepers lay there undis- 
 turbed by the calls of the owls, or the stealthy trejid 
 
96 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO 1" 
 
 of a passing bear, which chose the trail as affording the 
 best road from point to point. At night, when there 
 is no chance of running up against a man, no one 
 appreciates a well-made road better than a bear. He 
 will crash through the thickest brush if necessary, but 
 if you leave him to choose, he will avoid rough and 
 stony places as carefully as a Christian. 
 
 Towards midnight Cruickshank, who had been 
 tossing restlessly in his blankets, sat up and crouched 
 broodingly over the dying embers, unconscious that a 
 pair of bright, beady eyes were watching him sus- 
 piciously all the time. 
 
 But Phon made no sign. He was only a bundle of 
 blankets upon the ground, a thing of no account. 
 
 By and by, when Cruickshank had settled himself 
 again to sleep, this bundle of blankets sat up and put 
 fresh logs on the camp-fire. The warmth from them 
 soothed the slumberers, and after a while even Cruick- 
 shank lay still. Phon watched him for some time, 
 until convinced that his regular breathing was not 
 feigned, but real slumber, and then he too crept away 
 from the fire-side, not to his own place, but into the 
 shadow where Roberts lay. 
 
 After a while an owl, which had been murdering 
 squirrels in their sleep, came gliding on still wings, and 
 lit without a sound on the limb of a tall pine near the 
 camp. The light from the camp-fire dazzled its big 
 red-brown eyes, but after a little time it could see that 
 two of the strange bundles, which lay like mummies 
 round the smouldering logs, were sitting up and talking 
 together. But the owl could not catch what they said, 
 except once, when it saw a bright, white gleam flash 
 from the little bundle like moonlight showing through 
 a storm-cloud, and then as the bigger bundle snatched 
 
TBI SHADOWS BIGDI TO FALL. 
 
 97 
 
 the white thing away, the listening owl heard a voice 
 say: 
 
 "No, my God, no! That may do very well for a 
 Chinee; it won't do for a Britisher, Phon!" 
 
 And another voice answered angrily: 
 
 " Why not ? You white men all fool. You savey 
 what he did. S'pose you no kill him, by 'm bye he — " 
 
 But the rest was lost to the owl, and a few nilnutes 
 later, just as it raised its wings to go, it saw the 
 smaller bundle wriggle across the ground again to its 
 old place by the embers. 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 THE SHADOWS BEGIN TO FALL. 
 
 WHEN Corbett woke, the first beams of the rising 
 moon were throwing an uncertain light over 
 the forest paths, and the children of night were still 
 abroad, the quiet-footed deer taking advantage of the 
 moonlight to make an early breakfast before the sun 
 and man rose together to annoy them. 
 
 The camp-fire had just been made up afresh, and a 
 frying-pan, full of great rashers, was hissing merrily 
 upon it, while a kettle full of strong hot cofiee stood 
 beside it, ready to wash the rashers down. 
 
 Men want warming when they rise at midnight from 
 these forest slumbers, and Roberts, knowing that it 
 would be long ere his friends broke their fast again, 
 had been up and busy for the last half-hour, building a 
 real nor'- west fire, and preparmg a generous breakfast. 
 
 Cruickshank too was up, if not to speed the parting, 
 
 (7M) 
 

 98 
 
 <*CK>IiD, GOLD IN CARIBOO !' 
 
 at any rate to see them safely off the premises, a smile 
 of unusual benevolence on his dark face. 
 
 Between them, he and Roberts put up the travellers' 
 packs, taking each man's blankets as he got out of 
 them, and rolling in them such light rations as would 
 just last for a four days* trip. In twenty minutes from 
 the time when they crawled out of their blankets, the 
 three stood ready to start. 
 
 " Are you all set ? " asked Cruickshank. 
 
 " All set," replied Chance. 
 
 " Then the sooner you 'get' the better. It will be as 
 much as your heathen can do to make the journey in 
 time, I'll bet." 
 
 " Why, is the trail a very bad one ? " 
 
 "Oh, it's all much like this, but it's most of it 
 uphill, and there may be some snow on the top. But 
 you can't miss your way with all these tracks in 
 front." 
 
 "You will be in yourself a day or two after us, 
 won't you ?" asked Corbett. 
 
 " Yes. If you don't make very good time I daresay 
 I shall, although the snow may delay the ponies some. 
 But don't you worry about them. I'll take care of the 
 ponies, you can trust me for that." 
 
 "Then, if you will be in so soon, I won't trouble 
 to take anything except one blanket and my rifle," 
 remarked Ned. 
 
 " Oh, cake your rocker. It looks more business-like; 
 and, besides, all the millionaires go in with * nothing but 
 a rocker-iron for their whole kit, and come out worth 
 their weight in gold.' " 
 
 There was a mocking ring in Cruickshank's voice 
 as he said this, at variance with his oily smile, but 
 Steve Chance took his words in good faith. Steve 
 
THB SHADOWS BBOIN TO FALL. 
 
 still believed in the likelihood of his becoming a mil- 
 lionaire at one stroke of the miner's pick. 
 
 " I guess you're right, colonel. I'll take my rocker- 
 iron, whatever else I leave behind. Lend a hand to 
 fix it on to my pack, will you?" and then, when Cruick- 
 shank had done this, Steve added with a laugh: "I 
 shall consider you entitled to (what shall we say?) one 
 per cent on the profits of the mine when in full swing, 
 for your services, colonel." 
 
 " Don't promise too much, Chance. Tou don'!; iinow 
 what sort of a gold-mine you are giving awry yet;" 
 and the speaker bent over a refractory strav in Sieve's 
 pack to hide an ugly gleam of white teeth, which might 
 have had a meaning even for such an unsuspicious 
 fool Li^; Ned Corbett, who at this moment picked 
 up his Winchester and held out his hand to Cruick- 
 shank. 
 
 " Good-bye, colonel," he said. " What with the claims 
 and the packs, we have trusted you now with every 
 dollar we have in the world. Lucky for us that we 
 are trusting to the honour of a soldier and a gentleman, 
 isn't it? Good-bye to you." 
 
 It was the kindliest speech Ned had ever made to 
 Cruickshank. Weeks of companionship, and the man's 
 readiness to atone for his mistake, had had their elfect 
 upon Corbett's generous nature; but its warmth was 
 lost upon the colonel. 
 
 Either he really did not see, or else he affected not 
 to see the outstretched hand; in any case he did not 
 take it, and Ned went away without exchanging that 
 silent grip (which a writer of to-day has aptly called 
 "an Englishman's oath") with the man to whom he 
 had intrusted his last dollar. 
 
 As for old Roberts, he followed his friends for a 
 
 I I 
 
 
100 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO I* 
 
 couple of hundred yariis upon their way, and then 
 wrung their hands until the bones cracked. 
 
 " Give this to Ranipike when you see him, Ned. I 
 guess he'll be at Williams Creek, or Antler; Williams 
 Oeek most likely," said the old poet in parting, and 
 handed a note with some little inclosure in it to Ned. 
 
 "All right, I won't forget. Till we meet again, 
 Rob;" and Corbett waved his cap to him. 
 
 "Till we meet again!" Roberts repeated after him, 
 and stood looking vacantly along the trail until Steve 
 and Corbett passed out of sight. Then he, too, turned 
 and tramped back to camp, cheering himself as ho went 
 with a stave of his favourite ditty. 
 
 The last the lads heard of their comrade on that 
 morning was the crashing of a dry twig or two beneath 
 old Roberts' feet, and the refrain of his song as it died 
 away in the distance — 
 
 " Hiding, riding, riding on niy old pack-mule."* 
 
 Ned Corbett could not imagine how he had ever 
 thought that air a lively one. It was stupidly mourn- 
 ful this morning, or else the woods and the distance 
 played strange tricks with the singer's voice. But if 
 Ned was affected by an imaginary minor key in his 
 old friend s singing, a glimpse at the camp he had left 
 would not have done much to restore his cheerfulness. 
 
 The embers had died down, and looked almost as 
 gray and su)len as the face of the man who sat and 
 scowled at them from a log alongside. The only living 
 thing in camp besides the colonel was one of those 
 impudent gray birds, which the up-country folk call 
 " whisky -jacks." Of course he had come to see what 
 he Could steal. That is the nature of jays, and the 
 whisky-jack is the Canadian jay. At first the bird 
 
w 
 
 THE SHADOWS BEGIN TO FALI* 
 
 101 
 
 stood with his head on one side eyeing the colonel, un- 
 certain whether it would be safe to come any closer or 
 not. But there was a fine piece of bacon-rind at the 
 colonel's feet, so the bird plucked up his co\irngc and 
 hopped a few paces nearer. He had measured his dis- 
 tance to an inch, and with one eye on the colonel and one 
 on the bacon, w»is just straining his neck to the utmost 
 to drive his beak into the succulent morsel, when the 
 man whom he thought was asleep discharged a furious 
 kick at an unoffending log, and clenching his fist 
 ground out between his teeth muttered: 
 
 "A soldier and a gentleman! a soldier and a gentle- 
 man! Yes, but it came a bit too late, Mr. Edward 
 Corljett. Hang it, I wish you had stayed behind instead 
 of that fool, Roberts." 
 
 Of course the "whisky-jack" did not understand the 
 other biped's language, but he was a bird of the world, 
 and instinct told him that his companion in cainp was 
 dangerous; so, though the bacon-rind still lay there, he 
 flitted off to a tree hard by, and spent the next half-hour 
 in heaping abuse upon the colonel from a safe distance. 
 
 That "whisky-jack" grew to be a very wise bird, and 
 in his old days used to tell many strange stories &\xmt 
 human bipeds and the Balm-of-Gilead camp. 
 
 But there was half a mile of brush between Ned and 
 their old camp, so he saw nothing of all this; and after 
 the fresh morning air had roused him, and the exercise 
 had set his blood going through his veins at its normal 
 pace, he went unconcernedly on his way, talking t^j 
 Steve as long as there was room enough for the two 
 to walk side by side, and then gradually forging alx jid, 
 and setting that young Yankee a step which kept him 
 extended, and made poor little Phon follow at a trot. 
 
 Though Ned and Steve had grown used to isolation 
 
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 102 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO 1" 
 
 upon the trail with ten laden beasts between the two, 
 they made several attempts upon this particular morn- 
 ing to carry on a broken conversation, or lighten the 
 road with snatches of song. 
 
 Perhaps it was that they were making unconscious 
 efforts to drive away a feeling of depression, which 
 sometimes comes over men's natures with as little 
 warning as a storm over an April sky. 
 
 But their efforts were in vain; nature was too strong 
 for them. In the great silence amid these funereal 
 pines their voices seemed to fall at their own feet, and 
 ere long the forest had mastered them, as it masters 
 the Indians, and the birds, and the wild dumb beasts 
 which wander about in its fastnesses. The only crea- 
 ture which retains its loquacity in a pine-forest is the 
 squirrel, and he is always too busy to cultivate senti- 
 ment of any kind. 
 
 Cruickshank had warned them that the trail led 
 uphill, and it undoubtedly did so. At first the three 
 swung along over trails brown with the fallen pine 
 needles of last year, soft to the foot and level to the 
 tread, with great expanses of fruit bushes upon either 
 side, — bushes that in another month or two would be 
 laden with a repast spread only for the bear and the 
 birds. Salmon-berry and rasp-berry, soap-berry and 
 service-berry, and two or three different kinds of bil- 
 berry were there, as well as half a dozen others which 
 neither Ned nor Steve knew by sight. But the season 
 of berries was not yet, so they wetted their parched 
 lips A 4th their tongues and passed on with a sigh. 
 
 Then the road began to go uphill. They knew that 
 by the way they kept tripping over the sticks and by 
 the increased weight of their packs. By and by Steve 
 thought they would come to a level place at the top, 
 
 wm 
 
wm 
 
 THB SHADOWS BEGIN TO FALL. 
 
 103 
 
 and there they would lie down for a while and rest. 
 But that top never came, or at least the sun was going 
 round to the south, and it had not come yet. And then 
 the air began to grow more chill, and the trees to change. 
 There were no more bushes, or but very few of them; 
 and the trees, which were black dismal-looking balsams, 
 were draped with beard-moss, the winter food of the 
 cariboo, and there was snow in little patches at their 
 feet. When the sun had gone round to the west the 
 snow had grown more plentiful, and there were glades 
 amongst the balsams, and at last Steve was glad, for 
 they had got up to the top of the divide. 
 
 But he was wrong again, for again the trail rose, 
 and this time through a belt of timber which the wind 
 had laid upturned across their path. Heavens ! how 
 heavy the packs grew then, and how their limbs 
 ached with stepping over log after log, bruising their 
 shins against one and stumbling head-first over another. 
 At first Steve growled '^t every spiked-bough which 
 caught and held hipi, and groaned at every sharp stake 
 which cut into the hollow of his foot. But anger in 
 the woods soon gives place to a sullen stoicism. It is 
 useless to quarrel with the unresponsive pines. The 
 mountains and the great trees look down upon man's 
 insignificance, and his feeble curse dies upon his lips, 
 frozen by the terrible sphinx-like silence of a cold 
 passionless nature. 
 
 As long as the sunlight lasted the three kept up 
 their spirits fairly well. The glades in their winter 
 dress, with the sunlight gleaming upon the dazzling 
 snow and flashing from the white plumes of the pines, 
 were cheery enough, and took Corbett's thoughts back 
 to Christmas in the old country; besides, there were 
 great tracks across one glade— tracks like the tracks 
 
 \:-i 
 
 a 
 
 ij 
 
104 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO I" 
 
 ■ f - 
 
 I >'■■ 
 
 of a cow, and Ned was interested in recognizing the 
 footprints of the beast which has given its name to 
 Cariboo. 
 
 But when the sun went, everything changed. A 
 great gloom fell like a pall upon man and nature: the 
 glitter which made a gem of every lakelet was gone, 
 and the swamps, which had looked like the homes of 
 an ideal Father Christmas, relapsed into dim shadowy 
 places over whose soft floors murder might creep un- 
 heard, whilst the balsam pines stood rigid and black, 
 like hearse plumes against the evening sky. 
 
 " Ned, we can't get out of this confounded mountain 
 to-night, can we?" asked Chance. 
 
 " No, old man, I don't think we can," replied Ned, 
 straining his eyes along the trail, which still led 
 upwards. 
 
 "Then I propose that we camp;" and Chance suited 
 the action to the word, by heaving his pack off his 
 shoulders and dropping on to \t with a sigh of r-^lief. 
 
 Perhaps the three sat in silence for five minutes (it 
 certainly was not more), asking only for leave to let the 
 aching muscles rest awhile; though even this seemed too 
 much to ask, for long before their muscles had ceased to 
 throb, before Steve's panting breath had begun to come 
 again in regular cadence, the chill of a winter night 
 took hold upon them, stiffened their clothes, and would 
 shortly have frozen them to their seats. 
 
 " This is deuced nice for May, isn't it, Steve ?" remarked 
 Ned with a shiver. "Lend me the axe, Phon; it is in 
 your pack. If we don't make a fire we shall freeze 
 before morning. Steve, you might cut some brush, old 
 chap, and you and Phon might beat down some of the 
 snow into a door to camp on. I'll go and get wood 
 enough to last all night;" and Corbett walked off to 
 
THE SHADOWS BEGIN TO FALL. 
 
 106 
 
 commence operations upon a burnt " pine stick," still 
 standing full of pitch and hard as a nail. But Ned 
 was used to his axe, and the cold acted on him as a 
 spur to a willing horse, so that he hewed away, 
 making the chips fly and the axe ring until he had 
 quite a stack of logs alongside the shelter which Steve 
 had built up. 
 
 Then the sticks began to crackle and snap like 
 Chinese fireworks, and the makers of the huge fire 
 were glad enough to stand at a respectful distjiiice lest 
 their clothes should be scorched upon their backs. 
 That is the worst of a pine fire. It never gives out a 
 comfortable glow, but either leaves you shivering oi 
 scorches you. 
 
 Having toasted themselves on both sides, the three 
 travellers found a place where they would be safe from 
 the wood smoke, and still standing pulled out the 
 rations set apart for the first day's supper, and ate the 
 cold bacon and heavy damper slowly, knowing that 
 there was no second course coming. 
 
 When you are reduced to two slices of bread and 
 one of bacon for a full meal, with only two such meals 
 in the day, and twelve hours of abstinence and hard 
 labour* between them, h is wonderful how even coarse 
 store bacon improves in flavour. I have even known 
 men who would criticise the cooking at a London chib, 
 to collect the stale crumbs from their pockets and cat 
 them with apparent relish in the woods, thougli the 
 crumbs were thick with fluff" and tobacco dust! As 
 they stood there munching, Ned said: 
 
 "I suppose, Steve, we did wisely in coming on?" 
 "What else could we have done, Ned?" 
 "Yes, that's it. What else could we have done? 
 And yet—" 
 
 I it 
 V 
 
 1 1 
 
 
 >•) 
 

 106 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO 1" 
 
 "And yet?" repeated Steve questioningly. "What 
 is your trouble, Ned?" 
 
 " Do you remember my saying, when I bought the 
 claims, that with Crnickshank under our eyes all the 
 time we should have a good security for our money?" 
 
 " Yes, and now you have let him go. I see what you 
 mean; but you can rely upon Roberts, can't you?" 
 
 " As I would upon myself," replied Corbett shortly. 
 " But still I have broken my resolution." 
 
 " Oh, well, that is no great matter; and besides, I 
 don't believe that the colonel would do a crooked thing 
 any more than we would." 
 
 "He-he! Hehe-he!" 
 
 It was a strangely-harsh cackle was Phon's apology 
 for a laugh, and coming so rarely and so unexpectedly, 
 it made the two speakers start. 
 
 But they could get nothing out of the man when 
 they talked to him. He was utterly tired out, and in 
 another few minutes lay fast asleep by the fire. 
 
 " I am afraid that quaint little friend of ours doesn't 
 care much for the colonel," remarked Ned. 
 
 " Oh, Phon! Phon thinks he is the devil. He told 
 me so;" and Steve laughed carelessly. 
 
 What did it matter what a Chinaman thought! A 
 little yellow-skinned, pig-tailed fellow like Phon was 
 not likely to have found out anything which had es- 
 caped Steve's Yankee smartness. 
 
"jump or I'll shoot." 
 
 107 
 
 It 
 
 e 
 
 u 
 
 7. 
 
 u 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 JUMP OR ILL SHOOT. 
 
 mHREE days after they left the Balm-of-Gilead 
 X camp, Ned Corbett and his two friends stood 
 upon a ridge of the bald mountains looking down 
 upon the promised land. 
 
 " So this is Eldorado, is it?" 
 
 Ned Corbett himself was the speaker, though pro- 
 bably those who had known him at home or in Vic- 
 toria would have hardly recognized him. All the three 
 gold-seekers had altered much in the last month, and 
 standing in the bright sunlight of early morning the 
 changes wrought by hard work and scanty food were 
 very apparent. 
 
 Bronzed, and tired, and ragged, with a stubble of 
 half -grown beards upon their chins, with patches of 
 sacking or deer-skin upon their trousers, and worn-out 
 moccasins on their feet, none of the three showed signs 
 of that golden future which was to come. Beggars 
 they might be, but surely Croesus never looked like 
 this! 
 
 " We shall make it to-day, Ned," remarked Chance, 
 taking off his cap to let the cool mountain breeze fan 
 his brow. 
 
 " We may, if we can drag him along, but he is very 
 nearly dead beat;" and the direction in which Ned 
 glanced showed his companion that he was speaking 
 of a limp bundle of blue rags, which had collapsed in a 
 heap at the first sign of a halt. 
 
 " Why not leave Phon to follow us?" asked Steve in 
 a low tone. Low though the tone was, the bundle of 
 
 \l ^ 
 
 :: 
 

 fi 
 
 t I \\ 
 
 108 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO!" 
 
 blue rags moved, and a worn, shrivelled face looked 
 piteously up into Ned's. 
 
 " No, no, Steve," replied Corbett. "All right, Phon, 
 I'll not leave you behind, even if I have to pack you 
 on my own shoulders." 
 
 Thus reassured, the Chinaman collapsed once more. 
 There was not a muscle in his body which felt capable 
 of further endurance, and yet, with the gold so near, 
 and his mind full of superstitious horrors, he would 
 have crawled the rest of the journey upon his hands 
 and knees rather than have stayed behind. 
 
 "Thank goodness, there it is at last!" cried Corbett 
 a minute later, shading his eyes with his hand. 
 " That smoke I expect rises from somewhere near our 
 claims;" and the speaker pointed to a faint column of 
 blue which was just distinguishable from the surround- 
 ing atmosphere. 
 
 "I believe you are right, Ned. Come, Phon, one 
 more effort!" and Steve helped the Chinaman on to his 
 legs, though he himself was very nearly worn out. 
 
 Ned took up the slender pack which Phon had 
 carried until then, and added it to the other two packs 
 already upon his broad shoulders. After all the three 
 packs weighed very little, for Ned's companions had 
 thrown away everything except their blankets, and 
 Steve would have even thrown his blanket away had 
 not Ned taken charge of it. Ned knew from experi- 
 ence that so long as he sleeps fairly soft and warm at 
 nj ;ht a man's strength will endure many days, but 
 once you rob him of his rest, the strongest man will 
 collapse in a few hours. 
 
 As for their food, that was not hard to carry. Each 
 man had a crust still left in his pocket, and more than 
 enough tobacco. Along the trail there were plenty of 
 
m{ 
 
 "JUMP OR I'll shoot." 
 
 109 
 
 streams full of good water, and if bread and water 
 and tobacco did not satisfy them, they would have to 
 remain unsatisfied. It had been a hard race against 
 time, and the last lap still remained to be run; but 
 that smoke was the goal, and with the goal in sight 
 even Phon shuffled along a little faster, though he was 
 so tired that, whenever he stumbled he fell from sheer 
 weakness. 
 
 The bald mountains so often alluded to in Cariboo 
 story are ranges of high upland, rising above the forest 
 level, and entirely destitute of timber at the top. 
 
 Here in late summer the sunnier slopes are slippery 
 with a luxuriant growth of long lush grasses and 
 weeds, and ablaze with the vivid crimson of the Indian 
 pink. In early spring (and May is early spring in 
 Cariboo) there is still snow along the ridges, and even 
 down below, though the grasses are brilliantly green, 
 the time of flowers has hardly yet come. 
 
 Here and there as the three hurried down they 
 came across big boulders of quartz gleaming in the 
 sun. These were as welcome to Steve as the last mile- 
 stone on his road home to a weary pedestrian. Where 
 the quartz was, there would the gold be also, argued 
 Steve, and the thought roused him for a moment out 
 of the mechanical gait into which he had fallen. But 
 he soon dropped into it again. A hill had risen and 
 shut the column of smoke out of his sight, and the 
 trail was leading down again to the timber. 
 
 Away far to the east a huge dome of snow gleamed 
 whitely against the sky-line. That was the outpost 
 of the Rockies. But Steve had no eyes even for the 
 Rockies. All he saw was a sea of endless brown hills 
 rolling and creeping away fold upon fold in the dis- 
 tance, all so like one to another from their bald ridges 
 
 ^ 
 
 m 
 
no 
 
 "GOIJ), GOLD IN cariboo!" 
 
 to the blue lakes at their feet, that his head began to 
 spin, and he almost thought that he must be asleep, and 
 this some nightmare country in which he wandered 
 along a road that had no end. 
 
 Luckily Ned roused him from this dreamy fit from 
 time to time, or it might well have happened that 
 Steve's journey would have ended on this side of 
 Williams Creek in a rapid slide from the narrow trail 
 to the bottom of one of the little ravines along which 
 it ran. 
 
 Both men were apparently thinking of the same 
 subject. So that though their sentences were short and 
 elliptical, they had no difficulty in understanding each 
 other's meaning. Men don't waste words on such a 
 march as theirs. 
 
 "Another three hours ought to do it," Ned would 
 mutter, shifting his pack so as to give the rope a 
 chance of galling him in a fresh place. 
 
 " If we get there by midnight, I reckon it woul.^ do." 
 
 " Yes, if we could find the claims." 
 
 " Ah, there is that about it ! Have you got the map ? " 
 
 "Yes. I've got that all right. Oh, we shall do it 
 in good time;" and Ned looked up at his only clock, 
 the great red sun, which was now nearly overhead. 
 
 The next moment Corbett's face fell. The path led 
 round a blufi", beyond which he expected to see the 
 trail go winding gradually down to a little group of 
 tents and huts gathered about Williams Creek. Instead 
 of that he found himself face to face with one of those 
 exasperating gulches which so often bar the weary 
 hunter's road home in the Frazer country. The swelling 
 uplands rolled on, it was true, sinking gradually to the 
 level of Williams Creek, and he could see the trail 
 running from him to his goal in fairly gentle sweeps. 
 
"JUMP OR I'LL SHOOT." 
 
 Ill 
 
 all except about half a mile of it, and that half-mile 
 lay right in front of him, and was invisible. 
 
 It had sunk, so it seemed to Ned, into the very 
 bowels of the earth, and another hundred yards brought 
 him to the edge of the gulch and showed him that this 
 was the simple truth. As so often happens in this 
 country which ice has formed (smoothing it here and 
 cutting great furrows through it elsewhere), the downs 
 ended without warning in a precipitous cliff leading 
 into a dark narrow ravine, along the bottom of which 
 the gold-seekers could just hear the murmur of a 
 mountain stream. 
 
 It was useless to look up and down the ravine. 
 There was no way over and no way round. It was 
 a regular trap. A threadlike trail, but well worn, 
 showed the only way by which the gulch could be 
 crossed, and as Ned looked at it he came to the con- 
 clusion that if there was another such gulch between 
 him and Williams Creek it would probably cost him 
 all he was worth, for no one in his party could hope 
 to cross two such gulches before nightfall. 
 
 "It's no good looking at it, come along, Steve!" he 
 cried, and grasping at any little bush within reach to 
 steady his steps, Ned began the descent. 
 
 Who ever first made that trail was in a hurry to 
 get to Williams Creek. The recklessness of the gold 
 miner, determined to get to his gold, and careless of 
 life and limb in pursuit of it, was apparent in every 
 yard of that descent, which, despising all circuitous 
 methods, plunged headlong into the depths below. 
 
 Twice on the way down Steve only owed his life to 
 the stout mountain weeds to which his fingers clung 
 when his feet forsook him, and once it was only Ned's 
 strong hand which prevented Fhon from following a 
 
 fi' 
 
112 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO !" 
 
 Hi 
 
 great flat stone which his stumbling feet had sent 
 tobogganing into the dark gulf below. 
 
 For two or three minutes Ned had to hold on to 
 Phon by the scruff of the neck before he was quite 
 certain that he was to be trusted to walk alone again. 
 Even Steve kept staring into that "dark-profound" 
 into which the stone had vanished in a way which 
 Corbett did not relish. Though he had never felt it 
 himself, he knew all about that strange fascination 
 which seems to tempt some men, brave men too, to 
 throw themselves out of a railway-carriage, oft' a pier- 
 head, or down a precipice, and therefore Ned was not 
 sorry to be at the bottom of that precipitous trail 
 without the loss of either Steve or Phon. 
 
 "Say, Ned, how does that strike you? It's a *way- 
 up* bridge, isn't it, old man?" and the speaker pointed 
 to a piece of civil engineering characteristic of Cariboo. 
 
 Two tall pines had grown upon opposite edges of the 
 narrow ravine in which the gulch ended. From side 
 to side this ravine was rather too broad for a single 
 pine to span, and far down below, somewhere in the 
 darkness of it, a stream roared and foamed along. The 
 rocks were damp with mist and spray, but the steep 
 walls of the narrow place let in no light by which the 
 prisoned river could be seen. In order to cross this 
 place, men had loosened the roots of the two pines with 
 pick and shovel, until the trees sinking slowly towards 
 each other had met over the mid-stream. Then those 
 who had loosened the roots did their best to make them 
 fast again, weighting them with rocks, and tethering 
 them with ropes. When they had done this they had 
 lashed the tops of the trees together, lopped oft" a few 
 boughs, run a hand-rope over all, and called the 
 structure a bridge. 
 
"JUMP OR I'll shoot." 
 
 113 
 
 Over this bridge Ned and his comrades had now to 
 pass, and as he looked at the white face and quaking 
 legs of Phon, and then up at the evening sky, Ned 
 turned to Steve and whispered in his ear: "Pull your- 
 self together, Steve. This is a pretty bad place, but 
 we have got to get over at once or not at all. That 
 fellow will faint or go off his head before long." 
 
 Luckily for Ned, Steve Chance had plenty of what 
 the Yankees call " sand." 
 
 " I'm ready, go ahead," he muttered, keeping his eyes 
 as much as possible averted from the abyss towards 
 which they were clambering. 
 
 " I'll go first," said Corbett, when they had reached 
 the roots of the nearest pine; "then Phon, and you 
 last, Steve." Then bending over his friend he v. ' lispered, 
 " Threaten to throw him in if he funks." 
 
 Of coursr the bridge in front of Corbett was not the 
 ordinary way to Williams Creek. Pack-trains had 
 come to Williams Creek even in those early days, and 
 clever as pack-ponies are, they have not yet developed 
 a talent for tree climbing. So there was undoubtedly 
 some other way to Williams Creek. This was only a 
 short cut, a route taken by pedestrians who were in 
 a hurry, and surely no pedestrians were ever in a much 
 greater hurry than Steve and Ned and Phon. 
 
 Consider! Their all was on the other side of that 
 ravine; all their invested wealth and all their hopes 
 as well; all the reward for weeks of weary travel, as 
 well as rest, and shelt«^r, and food They had much to 
 gain in crossing that ravine, and the slowly sinking 
 sun warned them that they had no time to look for a 
 better way round. They must take that short cut or 
 none. And yet when N>d got closer to the rough 
 bridge he liked it less tht i ever. Where the trees 
 
 (706) B 
 
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 nun HUvi hivS follow -n\on. 
 
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 Tlui iiiiHorafilc wrot^h hoard and underst^//] thft 
 
116 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO!" 
 
 words, and saw the Winchester, the same which had 
 sent the runaway cayuse spinning down the stone-slide, 
 come slowly up to Corbett's shoulder. 
 
 "Jump or I'll shoot! It's your last chance!" and 
 Phon heard the clank of the pump as his master forced 
 up a cartridge into the barrel of his rifle. 
 
 It was now death anyway. Phon realized that, and 
 even at that moment his memory showed him plainly 
 a picture of that pinto mare, whose bruised and 
 battered body, with a great ghastly hole between 
 the eyes, he had seen by the edge of Seton Lake. 
 That last thought decided him, and with a scream of 
 fear he sprang out, and managed to cling, more by 
 sheer luck than in any other way, to the pine on the 
 Williams Creek side of the ravine. When Ned 
 grounded arms and reached out to help Phon across 
 the last few feet of the bridge he was wet through 
 with perspiration, and yet he was as cool as a new- 
 made grave. 
 
 "Ned," said Steve five minutes later, "I would 
 give all the gold in Cariboo if I had it, rather than 
 cross that place again!" — and he meant it. 
 
 For a few minutes Steve's gold fever had abated, and 
 in the terror of death even ohe Chinaman had forgotten 
 the yellow metal. And yet their journey was now over, 
 and within half an hour's walk of them lay the claims 
 they had bought, the wonderful spot of earth out of 
 which they were to dig their heart's desire, the key to 
 all pleasures and the master of nine men out of every 
 ten — gold ! 
 
 Ned laughed to himself. Was a steady head and 
 the agility of a very second-rate gymnast worth more 
 than all the gold in Cariboo ? 
 
^ 
 
 H 
 
 I 
 
 I! 
 
 "WITH A SCRliAM OK IKAR IHK CHINAMAN Sl'RANt; OUT" 
 
▲ SHEER SWINDLE. 
 
 117 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A SHEER SWINDLE. 
 
 Ml 
 
 IT is hard to sever the idea of a journey's end from 
 ideas of rest and comfort. A is the starting-point, 
 B the goal, and no matter how distant, no matter how 
 wild the region in which B lies, the mind of the 
 traveller from A to B is sure to picture B as a centre 
 of creature comforts and a haven of luxurious rest. 
 
 Thus it wa& then that Steve and Corbett hurried 
 through the lengthening shadows, eager for the city 
 that was to come, their eyes strained to catch a glow 
 of colour, and their ears alert for the first hum which 
 should tell of the presence of their fellow-men. 
 
 After the gloom of the northern forests, the silence 
 of the pack-trail, and the monotony of forced marches, 
 they were ready to welcome any light however garish, 
 any revelry however mad it might be. Life and ligbt 
 and noise were what both hankered after as a relief 
 from the silence and solitude of the last few days, and 
 it is this natural craving for change in the minds of 
 men who have been too much alone, which accounts 
 for half the wild revels o2 the frontier towns. 
 
 As a matter of history, the first impression made by 
 Williams Creek upon tlie sensitive mind of the artist 
 Chance was one of disappointment. Perhaps it was 
 that the heavy shadows of the mountains drowned all 
 colour, or that the day was nearly over and the dance- 
 house not yet open; whatever the cause Williams 
 Creek struck Chance with a chill. It was a miserable, 
 mean-looking little place for so much gold to come 
 from. In his visions of the mines Steve had dwelt 
 
 ij 
 
 1 
 
118 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO 1" 
 
 ,1 > 
 
 ■^'- : 
 
 If %^\ 
 
 ■>>■:■ 
 
 too much upon the glitter of the metal, and too little 
 on the dirt and bare rock from which the gold has to 
 be extracted; extracted, too, by hard labour, about the 
 hardest labour probably which the bodies of men were 
 ever made to undergo. 
 
 As his eyes gradually took in the details of the 
 scene, Steve Chance remembered Cruickshank's glow- 
 ing word-pictures of the mines, and his own gaudy 
 map of them, and remembering these things a great 
 fear fell upon him. Steve had accomplished a pilgrim- 
 age over a road upon which stronger men had died, 
 and brave men turned back, and now the shrine of his 
 golden god lay at his feet, and this is what it looked 
 like. 
 
 In the shadow of a spur of wooded mountains, lay a 
 narrow strip of land which might by comparison be 
 called flat. It was lower than the bald mountains 
 which were at its back, so the melted snows of ki-st 
 winter had trickled into it, until the whole place was 
 a damp, miserable bog, through the centre of which the 
 waters had worn themselves a bed, and made a creek. 
 
 There were many such bogs and many such creeks 
 about the foothills of the bald mountains, but these 
 were for the most part hidden by an abundant growth 
 of pine, or adorned by a wealth of long grass and the 
 glory of yellow lily and blue larkspur. But this bog 
 was less fortunate than its fellows. Gold had been 
 found in the creek which ran through it, so that 
 instead of the spring flowers and the pines, there 
 were bare patches of yellow mud, stumps rough and 
 untrained, where trees had stood, tunnels in the hill- 
 jide, great wooden gutters mounted high in the air to 
 carry off the stream from its bed and pour it into all 
 manner of unexpected places, piles of boulders and 
 
A SHEER SWINDLE. 
 
 119 
 
 rubbish, so new and unadorned by weed or flower 
 that you knew instinctively that nature had had no 
 hand in their arrangement. 
 
 And everywhere amongst this brutal digging and 
 hewing there were new log huts, frame shanties, wet 
 untidy tents, and shelters made of odds and ends, shel- 
 ters so mean that an African Bushman would have 
 turned up his nose at them. Instead of the telegraph 
 and telephone wires that run overhead in ordinary 
 cities, there were in the mining camp innumerable 
 flumes, long wooden boxes or gutters, to carry water 
 from point to point. These gutters were everywhere. 
 They ran over the tops of the houses, they came wind- 
 ing down for miles along precipitous side- hills, and 
 they ran recklessly across the main street; for traffic 
 there was none in those days, or at any rate none 
 which could not step over, or would not pass round 
 the miners' ditch. In 1862 rights of way were disre- 
 garded up in Cariboo, but an inch of water if it could be 
 used for gold-washing was a matter of much moment. 
 
 " I say, Ned, this looks more like a Chinese camp 
 than a white man's, doesn't it?" remarked Steve with 
 a shudder. 
 
 " What did you expect, Steve, — a second San Fran- 
 Cisco f 
 
 "Not that; but this place looks so dead and seems 
 so still." 
 
 " Silence, they say, is the criterion of pace," quoted 
 Ned; "but I can hear the noise of the rockers and the 
 rattle of the gravel in the sluices. It looks to me as 
 if men v 3re at work here in grim earnest. — Good-day. 
 How goes it, sir?" 
 
 The last part of Corbett's speech was addressed to 
 a man of whom he just caught sight at that momenti 
 
 yj 
 
 rf i 
 
 21 
 
120 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO !" 
 
 ;^ 
 
 Wf' '''("if 
 '. , rat 
 
 standing in a deep cutting by the side of the trail, and 
 busily employed in shovelling gravel into a sluice-box 
 at his side. 
 
 "Day," grunted the miner, not pausing to lift his 
 head to look at the man who addressed him until he 
 had finished his task. 
 
 "Are things booming here still?" asked Chance. 
 
 "Booming, you bet! Why, have you just come up 
 from the river?" and the man straightened his back 
 with an effort and jerked his head in the general 
 direction of the Frazer. 
 
 "That's what," replied Steve, dropping naturally 
 into the brief idioms of the place. 
 
 "Seen anything of the bacon train?" asked the 
 miner after a pause, during which he had again 
 ministered to the wants of his sluice-box. 
 
 " The bacon train! What's that?" 
 
 "Brown's bacon train from Oregon. Guess you 
 haven't, or you'd know about it. Bacon is played out 
 in Williams Creek, and we are all going it straight on 
 flour." 
 
 The thought of "going it straight on flour" was 
 evidently too much for Steve's new friend, for he 
 actually groaned aloud, and dug his shovel into the 
 wall of his trench with as much energy as if he had 
 been driving it into the ribs of the truant Bacon 
 Brown. 
 
 " That will suit us royally," ejaculated Ned. " We 
 shall have a small train here in a day or two, and 
 there's a good deal of bacon amongst our stores." 
 
 "You've got a train acomin'! By thunder! I thought 
 I knowed your voices. Ain't you them two Britishers 
 as were along of Cruickshank?" 
 
 "Strike me pink if it isn't Eampike!" cried Steve, 
 
A SHEER SWINDLE. 
 
 121 
 
 I 
 
 and the next minute the old gentleman who had 
 helped Steve in his little game of poker climbed out 
 of the mud-pie he was making, and shook hands, even 
 with the Chinaman. 
 
 "But Where's Roberts, and where's Cruickshank?" 
 he asked. 
 
 Corbet told him. 
 
 " Wal, as you've left Roberts with him I suppose it's 
 all right. Did you meet any boys going back from 
 these parts?" 
 
 " Only two, going back for grub," replied Ned. 
 
 " I guess they told you how short we were up here, 
 and they are worse off at Antler." 
 
 " No, they said very little to us. They had a bit of 
 a yarn with Cruickshank though. He was leading 
 out and met them fiist. He didn't say anything about 
 the want of grub to us." 
 
 "That's a queer go. Why, it would almost have 
 paid you to go to Antler instead of coming here. You 
 would get two dollars a pound for bacon up there." 
 
 " Ah ! but you see we were bound to be here for the 
 1st of June, because of those claims we bought." 
 
 "Is that so? Bob did say summat about those 
 claims. Do you know where they are?" 
 
 "Here's our map," replied Corbett, producing the 
 authorized map of Dewd and Cruickshank, upon which 
 the three claims had been duly marked. " Is Dewd 
 in the camp?" he added. 
 
 " I don't know ; but come along, there goes Cameron's 
 triangle. Let us go and get some 'hash,' and we can 
 find out about Dewd and the claims." And so saying 
 Rampike laid aside his shovel, put on his coat, and 
 led the way down to a big tent in the middle of the 
 mining camp. 
 
 ili 
 
122 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO I" 
 
 Here were gathered almost half the population of 
 Williams Creek for their evening meal, the other half 
 having finished theirs and departed to work upon the 
 night-shift; for most of the claims were worked night 
 and day, their owners and the hired men dividing the 
 twenty-four hours amongst them. 
 
 Here, as on board the steamer, Rampike was evidently 
 a man of some account; one able to secure a place for 
 himself and his chums in spite of the rush made upon 
 the food by the hungry mob in its shirt sleeves. 
 
 At first all three men were too busy with their 
 knives and forks to notice anyone or hear what men 
 were saying about themselves, but in a little while, 
 when the edge of appetite was dulled, Ned caught the 
 words repeated over and over again — " Bacon Brown's 
 men, I guess," and at last had to answer point blank 
 to a direct question, that he had "never heard of Mr. 
 Brown before." 
 
 "These fellows hain't seen Brown at all," added 
 Rampike. "They're looking for Dewd. Have you 
 seen him anywhere around?" 
 
 At the mention of Dewd's name a broad grin passed 
 over the faces of those who heard it, and one man 
 looked up and remarked that a good many people had 
 been inquiring kindly after Dewd lately. The speaker 
 was a common type amongst the miners, but in those 
 early days his rough clothes and refined speech struck 
 Ned as contrasting strangely. 
 
 Truth to tell, he had been educated at Eton and 
 Oxford, had thrown up a good tutorship to come out 
 here, and here he was happy as a king, though all his 
 classical education was thrown away, and his blue 
 pantaloons were patched fore and aft with bits of 
 sacking once used to contain those favourite brands 
 
A SHEER SWINDLE. 
 
 123 
 
 of flour known respectively as " Self -rising " and the 
 "Golden Gate." 
 
 As he rose to his feet with the names of the brands 
 printed in large letters on either side of him, he looked 
 something between a navvy and a " sandwich man." 
 
 " Dewd," he went on, " has been playing poker lately 
 a little too well to please the boys. Say, O'Hailoran, 
 do you know where Dewd is ?" 
 
 "Faith and I don't. If I did, Sandy M'Donald 
 would give me half his claim for the information. 
 Hullo, have you got here already, sonny ? I was before 
 ye though." And Ned's red-headed friend of fighting 
 proclivities held out his hand to him over the heads of 
 his neighbours. 
 
 "What does Sandy want him for?" asked someone 
 in the crowd. 
 
 "You'd betther ax Sandy. All I know is that he 
 went gunning for him early this morning, and if he 
 wasn't so drunk that he can't walk he'd be afther 
 him still." 
 
 " Who's drunk, Pat,— Dewd or Sandy ?" 
 
 "Oh, don't be foolish! Whoever heard of Dewd 
 touching a drop of good liquor. That's the worst of 
 that mane shunk; he gets you blind drunk first and 
 robs you afther." 
 
 "What, have you been bitten too, O'Hailoran?" 
 asked the tutor; and while the laugh was still going at 
 the wry face poor Corny O'Hailoran pulled, Rampike 
 and his three friends slipped quietly out of the room. 
 
 "I guess we may as well locate those claims of yourn 
 right away," remarked Rampike as soon as they were 
 clear of Cameron's tent, "so as there'll be no trouble 
 about securing them to-morrow. Not as I think any 
 one is likely to jump 'em. Let me see your map." 
 
 ; 
 
 i ' 
 
 -sA'tuj^w mtijm 
 
124 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO!" 
 
 Ned handed over the map before alluded to. 
 
 " Why, look ye here, these claims are right along- 
 side the Nugget, the richest claim on the creek!" cried 
 their friend, after studying the map for a few minutes. 
 
 " Quite so, that is what gives them their exceptional 
 value," remarked Chance, quoting from memory 
 Cruickshank's very words. 
 
 " Oh, that's what gives them their 'ceptional vally, 
 is it, young man?" sneered Rampike. " Wal, I guess 
 they ought to have a 'ceptional vally' to make it 
 worth while working them there;" and Rampike, who 
 was now standing by the Nugget claim alongside the 
 bed of the creek, pointed upwards to where the bluffs, 
 two hundred feet high, hung precipitously over their 
 heads. 
 
 It was no good arguing, no good swearing that the 
 map must be wrong, that Cruickshank had marked 
 the wrong lots, that there was a mistake somewhere. 
 
 " Just one of the colonel's mistakes, that's what it is. 
 Come and see the gold Commissioner, he'll straighten 
 it out for you," retorted Rampike, hurrying the three 
 off into the presence of a big handsome man, whose 
 genial ways and handsome face made " the judge " a 
 great favourite with the miners. 
 
 All he could do he did, and was ready lo go far 
 beyond the obligations of his office in his i^dire to help 
 Cruickshank's victims. It was a very common kind of 
 fraud after all. The colonel had drawn a sufficiently 
 accurate map of the Williams Creek valley; he had 
 even given accurately every name upon that map, and 
 moreover the claims which he had sold to Corbett & 
 Co. adjoined the Nugget claim, and had been regularly 
 taken up and bonded by his partner and himself. 
 Cruickshank's story indeed was true in every particular. 
 
THE bullet's message. 
 
 125 
 
 Gold was being taken out of the Nugget mine at the 
 rate of several lbs. per diem; why should it not be 
 taken out of the claims which it adjoined? 
 
 There was only one objection to Cruickshank's map, 
 — he had not drawn it in relief. There was only one 
 objection to Corbett's claim — the surface of it would 
 have adjoined the surface of the Nugget claim had 
 they both been upon the same level, only, — only, you 
 see, they were not. There was a trifling difference of 
 two hundred and fifty feet in the altitude of the 
 Nugget claim and the bluff adjoining it, and Corbett's 
 claim was on the top of that bluff Now a claim on 
 the top of a bluff, where no river could ever have run 
 to deposit gold, and whither no water could be brought 
 to wash for gold, was not considered worth two thou- 
 sand dollars even in Cariboo. 
 
 CHAPTER XIIL 
 
 THE bullet's message. 
 
 WAL, those'll maybe make vallible building lots 
 when Williams Creek has growed as big as 
 'Frisco, but somehow trade in building lots ain't brisk 
 here just now." 
 
 No one answered old Rampike. Steve and Ned felt 
 rather hurt at the levity of his remarks. It is poor 
 fun even for a rich man to be robbed of six thousand 
 dollars, and neither Ned nor Steve were rich men. In 
 fact, in losing the six thousand dollars they had lost 
 their all except the pack-train. 
 
 " It ain't no manner of good to grizzle over it," con- 
 
 I! 
 
 
4 
 
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 Mm«(., iim il' l'ifil?i»i/' (''»» M'ifM" !ii'|i|<>r» r^»'ifiif«(/( ir; *«v^f/ 
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 IhiimI I'mimi Iii>I.w<><h Ii»« h'A. >,«'< Ui 
 
 " ir < 'riiirl<Kli«,r»l< nirt'l/ i\tt\A \iy w,'N, td'/ f,\f] ^mS 
 IdilMiln JM, Vnti fnny l.<«f, Off Mint l/»'«>< y<> h'r'^ ' ^ri/J 
 IIm^ m|ii'm|{»m linfcN'l i*i»"| n, f|<i,t,f/.f,/./|, \,\i^/\ .-fcAfr*'''! 
 ImiIIpI, wIi'mIi Ii»' IhmI liikori fr/.rn \\',\,t\T^A' I' W^f, 
 " |)m yoti l<fi»»w wIimI, Mini, y^'" h<> fttjki'/j, 
 " II, limit ft lik^ a, ri'volv'f hi(ll<i," r».fi«c//'f«y| ,V*(/|, 
 " An»l M<i il, JM. 'ri(Mj,'« Uf i'l'',r(tj<'ftl hull^t *!>* f>;»r, 
 ( •rnirl<Mli/inl< flrml of. o, {/ro'm<! i%im\ h'd n ffiyvM*. -pith. 
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 ItM'lJl Wif.ll (Ul|^IJ 
 
 i 
 
 f] 
 
wsncBRSjasf" 
 
 128 
 
 »*GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO 1" 
 
 u 
 
 I ra; 
 
 n 
 
 
 "What the deuce do you mean?" cried Steve in 
 blank astonishment. 
 
 "Mean — mean! Why, that if you warn't such a 
 durned tenderfoot you'd have tumbled to the whole 
 thing long ago! Men like Cruickshank don't leave 
 horses unhobbled by mistake, don t hit and scare pack- 
 horses on a stone-slide by mistake, don't get to Williams 
 Creek a day late by mistake. Oh, curse his mistakes ! 
 If he makes one more there'll be the best pal and the 
 sweetest singer in Cariboo lying dead up among them 
 pines." 
 
 " Do you mean that Cruickshank did these things en 
 purpose?" asked Corbett slowly, his face growing 
 strangely hard as he spoke. 
 
 " Read Rob's letter," said Rampike, and gave Ned 
 the scrap of paper on which Rob had found time to 
 write a brief record of the journey from Douglas, 
 ending his story in these words — " Cruickshank means 
 Corbett miscliief, so I am staying instead of the lad. 
 What his game is with the pack-ponies I am blowed if 
 I know, but if I don't come in with them inside of a 
 week, do some of you fellows try and get even with the 
 colonel for the sake of your old pal Roberts." 
 
 For several minutes after reading this note no one 
 spoke ; each man was thinking out the situation after 
 his own fashion. 
 
 "Will you trust me with grub for a fortnight, 
 Rampike?" asked Ned at last. 
 
 " Yes, lad, if you like; but you won't want to borrow. 
 Men like you can earn all they want here;" and the 
 miner looked appreciatively at the big-limbed man 
 before him. 
 
 " I'll earn it by and by, Rampike. I'm going after 
 Roberts first," replied Ned quietly. 
 
THE bullet's message. 
 
 VJ9 
 
 "How's that?" demanded Rampike. 
 
 " I'm going after Roberts and Cruickshank. Can I 
 have the grub?" 
 
 " If that's your style, you can have all the grub you 
 want if I have to go hungry for a week. When will 
 you start?" 
 
 " It will be dark in two hours," replied Ned, " and the 
 moon comes up about midnight. I shall start as soon 
 as the moon is up." 
 
 " Impossible, man!" cried Chance. "I could not drag 
 myself to the top of that first bluff unless I had had 
 twenty-four hours' solid sleep, if my life depended upon 
 it." 
 
 *I know, old fellow, and I don't want you to; but 
 you see a life may depend upon it." 
 
 " But you aren't going alone, Corbett. I'll not hear 
 of that." 
 
 "We will talk about that by and by, Steve. Let 
 us go and turn in for a little while now. I am dead 
 tired myself." And so saying Corbett turned on his 
 heel and followed Rornpike to his hut, where the 
 o'li ^^h'.ii found room for all three of them upon the 
 
 flvO! 
 
 " If k ; ' /e and I go to look for Roberts can you find 
 a job i^r our Chinaman until we come back ? I should 
 not like the poor beggar to starve," said Ned, pointing 
 to where Phon lay already fast asleep The moment 
 he laid down his head Phon had gone to sleep, and 
 since tlien Dot a muscle had twitched to show that he 
 •VMS alive. Whatever his mastt^r might choose to 
 ^vn^ : , ^ for his benefit the Chinaman was not likely to 
 oveiliuar or object to. 
 
 " Oh yes, I can fix that easy enough. I'll set him 
 to wash in my own claim. I can afford to pay him 
 
 (796) > I 
 
 ' ; 
 
 j t; 
 
 i 
 
 II 
 
 
Ill I 
 
 
 ISO 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO l" 
 
 |:jood wages aa well as feed liim. Men are scarce at 
 Williams Croek." 
 
 Again for a tiino tliero wjus Hilniico in the hut, 
 Corbett and Rauipiko pulling away at. tlioir pipes, aud 
 Steve Chance trying liard to ko('|) his cyos open as it* 
 he suspected nii.schief. At last nature got tlie better of 
 him; the young Yankee's head dropped on nis arm, 
 and in another moniv » ^f^ was as sound ash^ep fis 
 Phon. 
 
 Then Ned stood up and wont over to sit beside the 
 old miner Rampike, remarking as ho did so: 
 
 " Thank heaven Steve is otF at last. I thought the 
 fellow never meant to go to sleep." 
 
 " What! Do you mean to leave him behind?" asked 
 Rampike. 
 
 "Does he look as if ho could do another week's 
 tramping?" retorted Ned, glancing at the limp, worn- 
 out figure of his friend. " He has pluck enough to try, 
 but he would only hinder me." 
 
 " If that's so, I'll chucic my claim and come along 
 too." 
 
 ' Nonsense, you can't afford to lose your claim ; and, 
 besides, you couldn't help me." 
 
 "Couldn't help you! How's that?" snorted Rampike 
 indignantly. 
 
 "A man can always hunt better alone than with 
 another fellow. One makes less noise than two in 
 the woods." 
 
 " But you ain't ^^oing hunting?" 
 
 " Yes I am, — hunting big game too." And there was 
 a light in Ned Corbett's eye, as he overhauled his 
 Winchester, that looked bad for an enemy. 
 
 "You ain't afraid of — losing your way?" asked 
 B&mpike. He was going to say " You ain't afraid of 
 
THE BULLET'S MESSAGE. 
 
 131 
 
 
 Criiickshank, are you?" but a look on Corbett's face 
 stopped that question. 
 
 " No, I'm used to the woods," Ned answered shortly; 
 and tlien again for a while the two men smoked on in 
 silence. 
 
 Presently Corbett knocked the ashes out of his pipe, 
 and put it away carefully in his pocket. 
 
 "Do you work in the night-shift on your place?" 
 he asked Rampike. 
 
 " Either mo or my partner is there all the while." 
 
 "Shall you be there to-night?" 
 
 " I'll be going on at midnight, but I'll fix up a pack 
 with some grub in it for you before I go." 
 
 " Thank you, I'll leave that to you, if I may. W'" 
 you call me before you go? I mean to try to get all the 
 sleep I can before the moon is up." 
 
 " Well, lie down right now. I'll call you, you bet. 
 You're a good sort for a Britisher — give is a shake;" 
 and Rampike held out a hand as hard and as honest 
 as the pick-handle to which it clung day after day. 
 
 Perhaps it was the tliought of liis old friend's 
 danger which made Rampike blind and careless, or 
 perhaps it was only his natural clumsiness. In any 
 case he steered very badly for his own door, so badly 
 indeed that he tripped over Chance's prostrate form, 
 dealing him a kick that might have roused a dead 
 man. But Steve only turned over restlessly in his 
 sleep, like one who dreams, and then lay as still again 
 as ever. 
 
 Ned smiled. " No danger of waking him, I think, 
 when I want to go. Poor old Steve! the loss of the 
 money does not seem to spoil your sleep much." 
 
 Five minutes later, when Rampike had gone out to 
 get together the provisions which his guest needed, 
 
 ii 
 
 If 
 ^11 
 
 J 
 
 11 
 
 m 
 
 11 
 
 r I 
 
fhl"i 
 
 n 
 
 132 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO! 
 
 anyone listening to that guest's regular breathing 
 would have been of opinion that the loss of the 
 dollars troubled Ned Corbett as little as it troubled 
 Steve Chance 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 WHAT THE WOLF FOUND. 
 
 ABOUT midnight Rampike returned to his hut, and 
 as the moonlight streamed through the doorway 
 across the floor, Corbett rose without a word and 
 ioined the old miner outside. 
 
 " You didn't need much waking, lad." 
 
 "No; and yet I slept like a top. But I felt you 
 were coming, and now eveiy nerve in my body is wide 
 awake." 
 
 Rampike looked at his companion curiously. 
 
 " You're a strong man, Ned Corbett, but take care. 
 I've known stronger men than you get the 'jim-jams' 
 from overwork." 
 
 Ned laughed. He hardly thought that a man who 
 had not tasted liquor for a month was likely to suffer 
 much from the "jim-jams." 
 
 " That's all right," said Rampike testily. " You may 
 laugh, but I've seen more of this kind of life than 
 you'll ever see, and I tell you, you'd better stay where 
 you are." 
 
 "What! and let Cruickshank go?" 
 
 "What are you going to do with Cruickshank when 
 you catch him?" 
 
 "Bring him back to look at the mistake he made 
 about my claims," answered Corbett grimly. 
 
 » 
 
WHAT THE WOLF FOUND. 
 
 133 
 
 "And suppose Cruickshank don't feel like coming 
 back? It's more than likely that he won't." 
 
 " Then it will be a paiiitul necessity for Roberts and 
 myself to pack him back." 
 
 " If you get him back the law can't touch him, and 
 the boys won't lynch him just for swindling a tender- 
 foot." 
 
 "The law can't touch him?' 
 
 "Why, certainly not. If you were such a blessed 
 fool as to buy claims without a frontage on the crik, 
 that's your business. He didn't say as they weren't 
 on the top of a mountain." 
 
 " But no mountain was shown on his map," argued 
 Corbett. 
 
 "I guess he'd say as he couldn't draw maps well 
 and the one Steve Chance copied was the best he 
 knew how to make. He sold you what he said he'd 
 sell you, and if you didn't ask any questions that's 
 your fault." 
 
 This was a new view of the case to Corbett, and for 
 a moment he felt staggered by it, but only for a 
 moment. After all, it was not for the sake of the 
 claims that he had made up his mind to pursue 
 Cruickshank. 
 
 "Thanks, Rampike, for trying to make me stay 
 here. I know what you mean, but I am not as nearly 
 'beat' as you think I am, and I wouldn't leave old 
 Roberts alone with that scoundrel even if I was. Have 
 you got the grub there?" 
 
 " Well, if that's your reason for going I've no more 
 to say, except as I reckon Roberts is pretty good at 
 taking care of himself. However, b pal's a pal, and if 
 you mean to stay by him, I'll not hinder you. Here's 
 the grub;" and so saying he helped Ned to fix a little 
 
 < 1 1 
 
 !■ 
 
 
 J 
 
 
 ■ $■ 
 
 p 
 
I' > 
 
 134 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO 1' 
 
 bundle upon his shoulders, taking care that whatever 
 weight there was should lie easily in the small of his 
 back. " It's only dried venison," continued Rampike, 
 "and I didn't put any bread in. Bread weighs too 
 much and takes up too much room. You can go it on 
 meat straight for a week, can't you?" 
 
 "I'll try to. Give Chance a helping hand if you 
 can. He is a regular rustler if you can get him any 
 work to do." 
 
 "Don't worry yourself about your pals. You are 
 going to look for Dick Rampike's old partner, and you 
 may bet your sweet life that he won't let your pals 
 starve." 
 
 The two men, who had been walking slowly through 
 the mining camp, had now reached the foot of the 
 trail by which Ned had arrived at Williams Creek. 
 
 ** Well, good-bye, Rampike," said Ned, stopping and 
 holding out his hand. " It's no good your coming any 
 farther. Don't let Steve follow me." 
 
 "Good-bye, lad; I'll see that Steve Chance don't 
 follow you. He ain't built to go your pace," he added, 
 looking after Ned, "if he wanted to, but there'll be 
 me and some of the boys after you afore long, if 
 there's going to be any trouble;" and with this consoling 
 reflection in his mind, the old hard-fist returned to his 
 cabin, pulled off his long gum boots, and lay down on 
 the floor beside the still sleeping Chance and Phon. 
 
 Mr. Rampike had not as yet had time to furnish his 
 country residence, and after all, in his eyes a bed was 
 rather a useless luxury. ' What's the matter with a 
 good deal floor?' he often used to ask; and as he never 
 go^ a satisfactory answer, he never bothered to build 
 hiiiiself a bunk. 
 
 Meanwhile Ned Corbett was standing for a moment 
 
 I 
 
 \ 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 I 
 
 f 
 
be 
 if 
 
 on 
 
 lild 
 
 
 ! 
 
 
 '■ 
 
 WHAT THE WOLF FOUND. 
 
 135 
 
 on the top of a blufl" above Williams Creek, whence 
 he could still see the lights of the camp, and still hear 
 faint strains of music from the dance-house and the 
 monotonous "clink, clink" of the miner's pick. The 
 next moment he turned his back upon it all; a rising 
 bank shut out the last glimpse of the fires and the last 
 faint hum of human life. The forest swallowed them 
 up, and Ned was alone with the silence. 
 
 Never in all his life had he been in so strange a 
 mood as he was that night. 
 
 It seemed to him that every nerve and muscle in his 
 body, every faculty of his brain, had been tuned to 
 concert pitch. All his old calmness had deserted him, 
 and in place of it a very fire of impatience devoured 
 him. Wherever the trail allowed of it ho broke into a 
 long swinging run, and yet, though the miles fiew past 
 him, he was not satisfied. On ! on ! a voice seemed to 
 cry to him, and in spite of his speed the voice still 
 urged him to further efibrts. That was the worst of it. 
 Instead of the silence the forest seemed full of voices, 
 — not voices which spoke to his ear, but voices which 
 cried to the soul that was within him. The shadows 
 were full of these inarticulate cries, the night air 
 throbbed with them, all nature was full of them, and 
 of a secret which he alone seemed unable to grasp. 
 
 But it was no good standing still to listen, so he 
 pressed on until he came to the bridge of pines where 
 the day before Phon had clung, swinging between this 
 world and the next. Here Corbett hesitated for the 
 first time, standing at the top of that arch of pines, 
 looking across the black gulf in which the unseen 
 waters moaned horribly. If his foot slipped or his 
 hands failed him for the tenth part of a second, he 
 would drop from the moonlight into eternal darkness, 
 
 I 
 
 P i 
 
 I 
 
 i^ * 1 S' 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
 -i I 
 
 - t¥f 
 
 ■i I 
 
 i\ I 
 ■3 J 
 
136 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO!" 
 
 leaving no trace behind by which men could tell that 
 Ned Corbett had ever existed. 
 
 For a moment a cold horror seized him, he clung 
 wildly to the boughs round him and looked backwards 
 instead of forwards. But this fit only lasted for a 
 moment, and then the bold English blood came back to 
 his heart with a rush. " Good heavens!" he muttered, 
 "am I turning Chinaman?" and as he muttered it he 
 launched himself boldly across the gap, caught at the 
 rope to steady himself, and having crossed the bridge 
 set his face firmly once more for the bald mountains 
 above him. 
 
 All through the night Ccrbett maintained that long 
 swinging stride, climbing steadily up the steep hills and 
 passing swiftly down the forest glades, tireless as a wolf 
 and silent as a shadow. 
 
 When the dawn came he paused in his race, and sat 
 down for a quarter of an hour to eat a frugal meal of 
 dried meat. Had he been living the normal life of a 
 civilized man in one of the cities of Europe, he would 
 have needed much less food and eaten much more. All 
 civilized human beings overeat themselves. Perhaps 
 if the food at the Bristol or the Windsor was served 
 as dry and as little seasoned as Rampike's venison, 
 less would be eaten and more digested. 
 
 Breakfast over, Ned resumed his course. Even 
 during his hurried meal he had been restless and 
 anxious to get on. Fatigue seemed not to touch him, 
 or a power over which mere human weariness could 
 not prevail, possessed him. 
 
 As the air freshened and the stars paled, the tits and 
 "whisky-jacks" began their morning complaints, their 
 peevish voices convincing Ned that they had been up 
 too long the night before. A little later the squirrels 
 
 S 
 
 \ 
 
H \ 
 
 I 
 
 { 
 
 WHAT THE WOLF FOUND. 
 
 137 
 
 began to chatter and swear angrily at him as he passed, 
 and a gray old coyote slinking home to bed stood like a 
 shadow watching him as he went, wondering, no doubt, 
 who this early-rising hunter might be, with the swift 
 silent feet, white set face, and fitern blue eyes which 
 looked so keen and yet saw nothing. 
 
 Then the sun rose, and at last, taking a hint from 
 the tall red-deer, Ned threw himself down on the soft 
 mosses, trusting in the sun to warm him in his slum- 
 bers, as it does all the rest of that great world which 
 gets on very well without blankets. 
 
 Until the shadow had crept to the other side of the 
 tree under which he lay, Ned Corbett slept without 
 moving; then he rose again, ate a few mouthfuls of 
 dried meat, took a modest draught of the white water 
 which foamed and bubbled through the moss of the 
 hillside, and again went on. 
 
 One day went and another came, and still Corbett 
 held on his course, and on the third day he had his 
 reward. At last on the trail in front of him he saw 
 the tracks of horses, nine in number, all of tliem shod 
 before and behind as his own had been and the tracks 
 of one man driving them. 
 
 That was singular. There were two men left with 
 Ned Corbett's pack-train. Where had the other gone 
 to? Backwards and forwards he went, bending ir>w 
 over the trail and scrutinizing every inch of it, but iie 
 could see no sign of that other man. Perhaps he had 
 tired and had found room upon one of the least laden of 
 the pack animals. It would be hard upon the beast and 
 most uncomfortable for the rider, but it was possible. 
 
 Or perhaps the tracks of the man who "led out" 
 had been quite obliterated by the feet of the beasts 
 which followed him. That too was possible, and Ned 
 
 'I 
 
 li 
 
 1 
 
 J 
 
138 
 
 "aOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO I" 
 
 remembered how he had noticed upon the trail that 
 a horse's stride and a man's were almost exactly the 
 same length, so that it might be that for a few hundred 
 yards at any rate one of the animals had gone step for 
 step over Cruikshanks or old Rob's tracks. 
 
 But this could not have lasted for long; either the 
 man or the beast would have strayed a yard or two 
 from the track once in the course of a mile; but Corbett 
 had examined the tracks for more than a mile, and still 
 the story of them was the same: "nine pack-horses 
 driven by one man over the trail nearly a week ago;" 
 that was the way the tracks read, and Ned could make 
 nothing else out of them. 
 
 There was one thing, however, worth mentioning. 
 Corbett had hit upon the tracks on the path by which 
 he himself had cohib from the Balm-of-Gilead camp to 
 Williams Creek, at a point as nearly as he could judge 
 five miles on the Williams Creek side of that camp. So 
 far then the pack-train had followed him, but at this 
 point it had turned away almost at right angles to 
 follow a well-beaten trail which Corbett and Steve had 
 overlooked when they passed it a week earlier. 
 
 " That, I suppose, is where we went wrong, and this 
 must be the proper pack-trail to Williams Creek," 
 soliloquized Ned, and then for a moment he stood, 
 doubting which way he should turn. Should he follow 
 his pack-train, or should he go back until the tracks 
 told him something of that other man, whose feet had 
 left no record on the road? 
 
 The same instinct which had urged him on for the 
 last three days, took hold upon him again and turned 
 him almost against his will towards the old Balm-of- 
 Gilead camp. 
 
 It was nearly dark when he reached it, and he would 
 
 I 
 
WHAT THE WOLF FOUND. 
 
 139 
 
 perhaps have passed it by, but that he stumbled over 
 the half -burnt log which had been used as the side log 
 for his own fire. Since Ned had camped there a little 
 snow had fallen, a trifling local storm such as will take 
 place in the mountains even in May, and this had suf- 
 ficed to hide almost all trace of the camp in that rapidly 
 waning light. 
 
 As well as he could, Corbett examined the camp, 
 going carefully over every inch of it; but the only 
 thing he could find was a cartridge belt, hung up on 
 the branch of a pine, — a cartridge belt half full of 
 ammunition for a revolver. This he at once recognized 
 as belonging to Roberts. 
 
 " By Jove, that's careless," he muttered, "and unlike 
 the old man. I should have thought at any rate that 
 he would have found out his loss before he got very 
 far away, and have come back for the belt." 
 
 In another quarter of an hour it was too dark to 
 see his hand before his face, so making the best of a 
 bad business Ned sat down at the foot of a big pine, 
 and leaning his back against it tried to doze away the 
 time until the moon should rise and enable him to 
 proceed on his way. But though Corbett's muscles 
 throbbed and his limbs trembled from over-exertion, 
 no sleep would come to him. In spite of himself his 
 brain kept on working, not in its ordinary methodical 
 fashion, but as if it were red-hot with fever. Indeed 
 poor Ned began to think that he was going mad. If 
 he were not, what was this new fancy which possessed 
 him? 
 
 For some reason beyond his own comprehension his 
 brain would now do nothing but repeat over and over 
 again the refrain of Roberts' favourite song. The tune 
 of "the old pack-mule" had taken possession of him 
 
 11! 
 
 I 
 
 
 is 
 
 iii 
 
140 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO!" 
 
 ii< 
 
 i I 
 
 !l I 
 
 J\ 
 
 and would f^ivo him no peace. Witliout his will his 
 finders moved to the time of it; If he tried to think of 
 something else his thoughts put themHcIves in words, 
 and tlio words fell into the metre of it, and at last he 
 became convinced that he could actually with his own 
 bodil}'' ears hear tiie refrain of it, sad and distant as he 
 had last heard it before leaving that camp. 
 
 There it came again, wailing up out of the darkness, 
 the very ghost of a song, and yet as distinct as if the 
 singer's mouth had been at his car — 
 
 "Ilidiiig, riding, riding on my old pack-mule." 
 
 When things liad gone as far p.s this, Ned sprang to 
 Ids feet witli a start. There was no doubt about that 
 weird note anyway; and though it was but the howl 
 of a wolf wliich roused lam from his doze, Ned shud- 
 dered as the long-drawn yell died away in the dark- 
 ness, which was now slowly giving way to the light of 
 the rising moon. 
 
 Brave man though he was, Ned Corbett felt a chill 
 perspiration break out all over him, and his heart 
 began to beat in choking throbs. The wolf's weird 
 music had a meainng for him which he had never 
 noticed in it before. He knew now why it was so sad. 
 Had it not in it all the misery of homeless wandering, 
 all the hopelessness of the Ishmael, whose hand is 
 against every man as every man's hand is against him, 
 all the bitterness of cold and hunger and darkness? 
 Was his own lot to be like the wolf's? 
 
 "Great Scott, this won't do!" cried the lad, and 
 snatching up his pack he blundered away upon the 
 trail, prepared to face anything rather than his own 
 fancies. 
 
 As he moved away down the trail Corbett thought 
 
 I 
 

 WHAT THE WOLF FOUND. 
 
 141 
 
 I 
 
 
 that ho canglit a glimpse of the beast, whose hideous 
 voice had dispelled his dreams and jarred so roughly 
 upon his nerves. 
 
 Fear makes most men vicious, and Corbett was very 
 human in all his moods, so that his first impulse on 
 seeing the beast which had frightened him was U) give 
 it the contents of his revolver. Stooping down U) see 
 more clearly, he managed to get a faint and spectral 
 outline of his serenader against the pale moonlight, 
 and into the middlf^ of this he fired. A wolf's body is 
 not at any time too large a mark for a bullet, even if 
 it be a rille bullet; but a wolf's body is a very small 
 mark indeed for a revolver bullet at night, and .so N<!d 
 found it, and missed. To liis intense surprise, however, 
 the gray shadow was in no hurry to be gone. Though 
 the report of the revolver seemed curiously loud in the 
 absolute silence of a northern night, the wolf only 
 cantered a f(;w yards and then stood still again, and 
 again sent his hideous cry wailing through the forest 
 aisles. 
 
 "Curse you, you won't go, won't you?" hissed Ned, 
 his nerve comj)let('ly gone, and his heart full of un- 
 reasonable anger; and again he fired at the })rute, and 
 this tix. 2 ru.shed in after his shot, deternjined if he 
 could not kill him with a bullet to .settle matters witli 
 the butt. 
 
 But the wolf varjislied in the unccrtr«'n light as if 
 he had rcilly been a sliadovv, and his iiowl but the 
 ofl'spring of Corb( It's fancy. For a few yards Ned 
 followed in the direction in which the bea.st seomed 
 to have gone, until his eyes fell upon a swelling in the 
 .snow, near to which the wolf had been when the first 
 shot was fired. 
 
 What is that bther sense which we all of us possess 
 
 
 
 
 i-' 
 
 I til 
 
 m 
 
 .5 
 
t 
 
 
 143 
 
 "ooiiD, (joM> m OAumool" 
 
 
 M 
 
 and for which Mioro \h no luviuo, - ihiii noiiMo which in 
 lUMihor Hij;l»ti nor hearing, nor any ol* iho nl.hcr ihrco 
 oon\ntoi\ tttourtinily livcsi' ni'l\un Nod ( 'orhoM/M cyoH 
 tl\ort» Imv a l«>\v N\V(»liin^ njonnd of nhow. Hnioolh whiio 
 Nnow.Hiiil M\\\ coM in tho palo n»oonli|j^l»t. Thoro won* 
 ton M»oiiHan»i o! Iicr tnowndN JunI. liUo it. in iho i'oroHl. 
 ro\n»d hi)u. and yot h(»l'oro this nu)«nul <1orhoU, Htood 
 n>olod (o tl'o j^^round. whilst Ins oy{>;A dihilcd and ho 
 l\^lt l\i.s hair risinj^ vviilj liorror. >ind in Mio nilor 
 s<ilh\o.sN hoanl his own lioart tlnnidorinjjj agjiitjsl- his 
 side. 
 
 Until ih>\t n\oniont. Nod Oorlx^tl. had n(»vor lookod 
 upon tho iloMd. Ilo had hoard and roiul of doalh, and 
 knt>w (hrtt in his <\nn ho toonnist di«<; hutMs itolianood, 
 ho h;\ii novor y«>i. so(Mi that d\nul) hiind i.liin^ which 
 livo men Inny. sMvin^ this kuis a num. And yot it 
 nootlod not tho disappointed yoll of that foul HcaviMJgor 
 t(> toll him what lay hononih th«> stiow. 
 
 Slowly ho con»p«>ll(Ml hinisolf to draw near, and 
 stoopiuix ho ooniplolod wi(h n»vonMit haiuls what 
 the claws of tho iuniiifrv honst had alroatly hofj^un, an<l 
 thou tho nuHM\ ami tho man. with wan whito faces, 
 lookod down toiiothor upon all that ronuiinod of cheery 
 old KoK Corhott know at last why there had heen 
 no pc^aoo for him in tho forests that ni^ht. 'rhoro was 
 no mvstorv ahout his oKl con\ra.do's death', 'riio whole 
 foul story of munlor was written so la?*ire that the 
 Wv>ods know it. and wore full of it. This was tln^ story 
 which the >^'i.;:-i'1'^vini^ pines had whisponni all alonpf 
 tho trail, and at last C^'orhett luul ijrasped their socrofc 
 luiii Vaow what tho voices kept sayinpf. 
 
 J.ist where the curly hair camo down upon hia 
 friend's sturdy neck, was a small dark liolo; a trifling 
 wound it looked to have killed so strong a moii, aiid 
 
WHAT TIIK WOr.K VOVNU. 
 
 143 
 
 11(1 
 
 \ni 
 
 'CM, 
 
 .ry 
 oil 
 
 yoi whon ilio hiilU^t Hl.nick him l,li»in\ H,ol»(rf,M Y\hjA 
 i'n,ll)Mi wil.lioiit, luicwiiif^ who hn«l Ht<riicl< him, 
 
 Thru lor Olio moiiKiiil., |Mirh>i))H, Um iroiri who 'li'i Uhh 
 l.hiu^r lind Hioo«l jrljuiiip; nf, whni, h»i hiul ilori*!, mr»r'- 
 iifi'diil ol' Mi<> <h<(i,(i iiDui fii hiM Inci. thiui hin virl,im hii<l 
 (WOV h(«(Mi of niiy iiiMti. 'I'hn poMilJoii ol* Uim ho<ly ioM 
 Mm hihI, ol' Mm Htory. 'rium/^h ho coiihl kill him, 
 ( 'niirkHhiMiK «lM.n)(l iioi loivo Mi(»,Mn rhnith-MhiirporKd 
 I'lMiMinw Hl,(iiiri|,r up to Ikmivoii ripp'-jiJin^ for v«',ri|/<'.- 
 nuv.{\ Hj,^/i,iiiM(- Mm tiiiirfhirnr, ho Im ha'l H«-,i/,«'.«i Mio rorpH*-, 
 hy K-M wrindM nnd <lnij^{^c,(| il, nwny from the, oimp- 
 (iro, nvv/i.y l,o wlmm Mm dnrk hulMJiiriM Min-.w Mmir 
 ImuvicMl, hIwmIowh, ximI ih<'nr hfj, it,, il,H nrmn HMoff.horl 
 out Htiir mikI ri^i<l for Mir. hiiowh to ('ov«',r nri'l hi'h; 
 until it hIiouM iimiM, iiwny into tln) onrth whonr;*; it 
 cnjtm. 
 
 And wluit wjiH (5orh«'.tt to do? M«m do not v/c^p for 
 inon thrir ^ni(d' lion too dofp IV»r that and, morf;- 
 ov(^r, thoro \h nothing practical in toarH 
 
 And yot what wan ( 'orlx-tt to do? h- li^dit lii'l'*, 
 tlui <lcad nj^ain for awhihi, hut in the ond ho would U; 
 riHS'it for the, wolf »ind th(; raven. 
 
 "Oh (iod!" ]i(5 cried in th(5 hitt<',rncKH of liis spirit, 
 " \h this nothing unto 'J'hoo? DoHt 'J hou hco wljat man 
 has dono?" 
 
 And cvon then, whilo tho infinitely Hmall plf;aded 
 from tho dopth of tho foro.st to tho Infinitoly Mi^dity, 
 H littlowind came and Hliook tho tops of tho j^inos, and 
 tho dawn camo. 
 
 Tl>oroaft(T, JLS far ?ih Cor})ott know, time roasod. Only 
 tho pinoH wont hy and tlio trail Hh'fipod past ijndor liin 
 feet, until, in H}>ito of all his oflorts, and althou^di the 
 trees seemed still to go past him, he himsolf hUxA KtilL 
 Then there came a humming in the air and the thunder 
 
 i I 
 
 >. «.'j 
 
 I m 
 
 : ; j 
 
 ; i 
 
 i ji 
 
 if 
 
 i 
 
 1 
 
 !'! 
 
..'<r- 
 
 M 
 
 144 
 
 "ooLT), aor,i) IN oARinool" 
 
 of ji ^n*(\'it. rivor in his ojirs. and tlio (»!irt.l» began io rise 
 Mn«i i.'ill, and siuklonly it was niglitl 
 
 • ••••••• 
 
 It was on a Monday nu>rnin;jj thid Nod Corbott 
 siarlod fmin Williams (^nndv to soan-h lor (^ruick- 
 slu\nl\,and on Saturday old Hacon lirown from Orc^^on 
 Itron^hi. his train into AntliM', and witli it a tiill, fair- 
 hainnl man. wliom ho luid found upon tl\o trail sonu; 
 liftoiMi milos barU ho said a man whom lu* j^nossod 
 liad had tlu^ "jim jams" |)r<>tfy bad, "and cumoinight>y 
 nigh to sending in his chips, you bet." 
 
 OHAriKR x^^ 
 
 IN THE DANriMlOUSE. 
 
 CTTASSEY to the right, cliass»\y to the loft, swing 
 your partnors /onnd, and all promonado!" sang 
 Old Pad, tiddler aniJ niasior of ccromonios at Antlor, 
 British C\ilumbin. 
 
 It was oarly in Juno. Tlio moon w^as riding high 
 above tlie ]Mne-trees, and the men of the niglit-slnfts 
 wore (h'opping in one by one for a (.l.iuce with Jjilla 
 and IvatehiMi before going to sn}>jier. 
 
 Claw-liammer coat^s and boihMi shirts were not 
 insisted upon in the Antler danee-liouse, so most of 
 the men swaggered in in their gray suits and long 
 gum boots, all splashed with blue nuid, and took their 
 %valtz just as wo should take our sherry and bitters, as 
 a pleasant interlude betw^een business and dinner. 
 
 Some fellows found time to eat and sleep, and a few 
 were said to wash, but no one could afford to waste 
 
 
IN TUB DANCE IIOtTHK. 
 
 146 
 
 
 ill la 
 
 liiot 
 of 
 ;mg 
 heir 
 \, as 
 
 [ew 
 Iste 
 
 time in cluiTj^iii^ lii.s cIoUkj.s at the Cariboo j^jold-inirujH 
 in '02. When your overalls wore out you juHt handed 
 your dust over the store-kej^per'H eounl<;r and got into 
 anew pair ri;^iit th(»ni, and .some fellowH took oil* their 
 jLjiun l>(*otH when the.y lay down for a Bleep. Wann't 
 that clum^e enough? 
 
 At any rate tlie Ijunly j^irl.s we,re content witii Uxiir 
 j)M,rtnrrs, and their partru'.rH w<'-re all in love with the 
 " hurdies." 
 
 Now, it may b(5 that Home unfortunate person wlio 
 knows iiothiii;^ of n.tiythin^' W(;Ht of ChicjJKo may r*'.'\i\ 
 this hook, arid may WM-nt to know what a "liurdy " is 
 or was, for, alas! the " hurdies," like the dodo, are 
 extinct. 
 
 Be it known then to all who do not know it already, 
 that tlu; hurdy-^urdy ^irls (to ^dve them their fiill 
 title) W(!re douee, honest lassies from Germany, wlio, 
 hein^ fond of dancin;^ and fond (jf dollars, e(»mhiii(;d 
 husiness with pleasure, and sold tlieir dances to the di^- 
 f^ers at ho many pinches of dust per dance. It was an 
 honest and innocent way of earnin;^ money, and if any 
 sceptic wants to sncjcr at the gentle hurdies, there need 
 he no difliculty in finding an " old timer " to argue with 
 him; only the arguments used in LWihoo are forcible 
 certaiidy, and might evfsn seem soniewliat "rocky" to 
 a mild-mann(!red man. 
 
 Well, now you know what a "hurdy" was, and 
 when I tell you that a troop of hurdies had Just come 
 up from Kamloops, you will und(;rstand that Antler 
 was very much en fete on this particular June night. 
 
 Indeed, the long wooden shanty known as th(j dance- 
 house was full to overflowing, full of miners having 
 what they considered a good time — dancing in gura 
 boots, drinking bad whisky, si ging songs, and swear- 
 
 (786) " K 
 
 I 
 
 m 
 
 ill 
 
 
 
 "l\ 
 
 ,i 
 
 ! 
 
 i| 
 
 I 
 
 Mi 
 
f 
 
 ■i li 
 J II 
 
 ■' i 
 
 
 
 J* 
 
 H 
 
 ( ■' 
 1 ; 
 
 146 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO !' 
 
 ing wonderfully original " swears." But there was no 
 popping of pistols, no flashing of bowie-knives at 
 Antler. That might do very well in Californian min- 
 ing camps, but in British Columbia, in early days, even 
 the strong men had b ; :n taught by a stronger to 
 respect the law. 
 
 So Old Dad took command in the noisy room, and 
 was under no apprehension for his personal safety. 
 He might be dead drunk before morning or "dead- 
 broke" before the end of the season, but there was 
 very little chance that a stray bullet would end his 
 career before that terrible time came round when the 
 camp would be deserted, and he would have to sneak 
 away to the lower country to earn his living by pig- 
 feeding and " doing chores." 
 
 But the pig -feeding days were far distant still, so 
 that this most dissolute yet tuneful fiddler continued 
 to incite his clients to fresh eftbrts in dancing. 
 
 There were those, though, even at Antler, who wore 
 too staid, or too shy, or too stolid to dance, and for the 
 benefit of such as these small tables had been arranged, 
 not too far from the refreshments — small tables at 
 which they could sit and smoke in peace. 
 
 At one of these, in a pause between the dances, a 
 tall, fair-haired girl, all smiles and ribbons, came to a 
 halt before a solitary, dark-visaged misanthrope, Avho 
 sat abstractedly chewing the end of an unlit cigar. 
 
 "What's the trouble. Colonel? Have you anyone 
 murdered?" 
 
 The words were lightly spoken, and a laugh rippled 
 over the speaker's pretty face, but no answering smile 
 came into the smoker's deep-set eyes. On the contrarj'-, 
 he sprang to his feet with so fierce an oath that Li 11a 
 started back, and the smokers at the next table turned 
 
ng- 
 
 at 
 
 es, a 
 to a 
 \vho 
 
 II 
 
 
 ■ 
 
 f ': 
 
 'I 
 
 H 
 
 l.ll.I.A ACCO!5lS THK COI.ONEI. IN Tilt, DANCK-liOLSli 
 

 ■l T^k'i, ■■'-. l« » 
 
 11 ■■■' 
 
 I 
 
 
 ■< i 
 i 
 
 II If 
 
 Sjil 
 
 
 W f i 
 
 
 
 
 m : !• 
 
 
 m y ' 
 
 
 1 'i! '■ 
 
 
 1 " '■ 
 
 
 U -i 
 
 i 
 
IN THE DANCE-HOUSE. 
 
 147 
 
 with savage scowls t'^ see who it was who dared to 
 swear at their little German sweetheart. 
 
 "By mighty, I believe the girl's right!" said one of 
 these; "the fellow looks pretty scared." 
 
 " Like enough. A fellow who cain't speak civil to a 
 woman might do anything," growled another. This 
 last was a Yankee, and Yankees have a greao respect 
 for the ladies, all honour to them for it. 
 
 Meanwhile the colonel and the dancing -girl stood 
 facing each other, the smile dying out of her face as 
 the scowl died out of his. She was half -frightened, 
 and he had overheard his neighbours' remarks, and 
 recognized the necessity for self-control. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Lilla. What a bi-ute you must 
 think me! But don't you know better than to wake 
 a sleeping dog suddenly?" 
 
 " But no dog is so mean as to bite a woman," pro- 
 tested Lilla. 
 
 " That's so, and / only barked. I've been so long 
 packing all alone that I have lost my company 
 manners. Won't you forgive me, Lilla?" and he held 
 out his hand to her. Now it was part of Lilla's busi- 
 ness to pour oil upon the troubled waters of society at 
 Antler, and, besides, the colonel was an old acquaintance 
 and excellent dancer, so Lilla took his hand. 
 
 " Well, I'll try, but you pay me a fine. See, not once 
 have you asked me to dance this time in Antler. Now 
 dance with me." 
 
 " Is that all, Lilla? Come then." And so saying he 
 offered the girl his arm, and walked awxy with her to 
 another part of the room out of ear-shc*t of the angry 
 Yankee. 
 
 " I wanted to talk to you, Lilla," he began; but just 
 then the music struck up, and the girl, who had quite 
 
 n 
 
 m 
 
 i ill 
 
 ^=i'i 
 
 V: ill 
 
 •■-1 
 
 4\ 
 
% 
 
 •-i 
 
 148 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO 1" 
 
 recovered her spirits, beat the ground with a pretty 
 impatient toe, exclaiming, "The talk will keep; come 
 on now, we mustn't lose a bar of it." And then, as her 
 partner steered her gracefully over the floor, she gave 
 a little contented sigh and muttered, "So you have 
 not forgotten. Ach, himmel! this is to dance." 
 
 And indeed the dark-faced man might have com- 
 mitted many crimes, but he was not one to trample 
 upon a woman's tenderest feelings by treading on her 
 toes, tearing her dress out at the gathers, and dis- 
 regarding good music. 
 
 On the contrary, he had a perfect ear for time, 
 steered by instinct, and held his partner like one who 
 was proud of her and wanted to show her off to 
 advantage. 
 
 When the music ceased, and not until then, Lilla 
 and the colonel stopped dancing, and the girl had 
 just enough breath left to say in a tone of absolute 
 conviction: 
 
 " You must be a good man, I think, you dance so 
 well." 
 
 "Of course I'm a good man, Lilla," laughed her 
 partner. "Why should I not be?" 
 
 " Well, I don't know, but you frightened me pretty 
 bad just now. What was it with you?" 
 
 " Oh, nothing — at least nothing much. I was sulky 
 and you startled me. Are you never sulky, Lilla?" 
 
 "What is that sulky, traurigl" asked the girl. 
 
 " No, not quite. More like what you feel when a 
 frock won't fit you, Lilla." 
 
 "So! I understand: well, wherefore are you 
 sulky?" 
 
 " I can't sell my freight at my price. Just think 
 what rough luck it was for me that Bacon Brown got 
 
IN THE DANCE-HOUSE. 
 
 149 
 
 in 80 soon after me. And after bringing the stuff so 
 far and at such a cost too!" and again for a moment 
 the colonel's face looked white and drawn in the lamp 
 light. 
 
 The Frazer river trail was a bad one, but once its 
 perils were passed there seemed to be no reason why 
 an old packer should turn pale at the mere memory oi 
 them. 
 
 " Ach, sacrifice !" cried the girl. " You sell your bacon 
 a dollar a pound, and you call that sacrifice. Have 
 you no shame?" 
 
 " All very well for you, Lilla. You are a girl who 
 owns a gold-mine ; I'm only a poor packer. By the 
 way, have you done anything more about Pete's Creek 
 since last season?" 
 
 " No, but I think I'll do something soon.'* 
 
 "Better send me to find it for you, Lilla, before 
 someone else gets hold of it, and give me a share in it 
 for my work. I'll take you, and you keep the creek. 
 How will that do?" 
 
 " And what do I become — ach, I mean what shall I 
 get for my share?" 
 
 Her partner laid his hand upon his heart and made 
 her his most impressive bow, but the girl only burst 
 out laughing merrily. Perhaps the noise and bright 
 lights of a dance-house are unfavourable to sentiment. 
 
 " Ach so. Colonel. Bacon a dollar a pound, and you 
 will trade yourself for the richest gold-mine in Cariboo 
 and me! Danke schon," and she curtsied to him 
 laughingly. 
 
 " As you please, Lilla. But will you bet me that I 
 don't know where your creek is?" 
 
 " I know you don't know anything about it, except 
 what I told you last fall." 
 
 I 
 
 
 !?!! 
 
 ■ il 
 
 it 
 
 
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 f;l 
 
i {' 
 
 
 160 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO I" 
 
 "Dou'fc bo 1)0 s\in\ You'd hotter trust me, LiJIa 
 It isn't tho other .sido ol' tho J*m/.»a* in the Chilcotin 
 country, is it/" 
 
 "I told you so nnu'h, and tlion — " 
 
 "It isn't up at tho lioad ol' tho Chilcotin?" 
 
 "On which bank?" 
 
 " The riKht." 
 
 " Acli so! I know you didn't know," and then the 
 j^irl stopped, and for a moment suspicion looked out 
 from her simple blue eyes. Lilla wasn't quite sure 
 whether her dancing partner had not been trying to 
 pump her. 
 
 But the colonel saw the look, and knowing that he 
 had obtained all the information which he was likely 
 to got, he deftly turned the conversation into a fresh 
 channel. 
 
 " Of course it's only my chatl', Lilla. I would rather 
 have the pretty gold on your head than all the gold in 
 Pete's Creek, even if there was such a place, which I 
 doubt. But who is the new invalid you are nursing?" 
 
 " A Britisher as you are. Colonel ; only I find him 
 better-looking," replied Lilla mischievously. 
 
 "He might easily be that, Lilla. I'm getting old, 
 my dear, with waiting for you. But how did you find 
 this new treasure?" 
 
 " Bacon Brown brought him in." 
 
 ' Brown brought him in ! When ?" 
 
 "Three days from to-day — when his train came 
 along." 
 
 "Where did he find him? Is he one of his men?" 
 
 " Ach no. I tell you ho is English not Yankee. 
 Brown found him dying on the trail." 
 
 "On the trail! Where?" 
 
 " I don't know quite where, but somewhere between 
 
 *t 
 
 
IN TilK DANCE-H0U8B. 
 
 161 
 
 i 
 
 
 this place and whore the trail forkn for WilliarnH 
 Crocik." 
 
 Whilsfc tlie f(irl liad been fl])oakin^ hor companion 
 liud Mliil'Ujd his ]K)Hitioii, ho that iio now Htood with his 
 back to the lififht, ho that no ca.s»ial o})Herv(u- would 
 hn,vo noticed even if liin face nhould turn white iind 
 his hiuid shake. 
 
 " What \h your frinnd like, nrid what wan the inatici 
 with hini, Lilla?" asked the colonel after a while, with 
 a certain .show of carelessness, dropping out his words 
 disjointed ly betwe(;n his efforts to light a cigar. 
 
 " Well, I can hardly tell you, ho lies down all the 
 time. Fie is too weak to stand up, but he looks a 
 fine man, tall and big — oh, very big, and hair like a 
 Deutscher's, and blue eyes, more blue, 1 think, than 
 mine;" and she opened those f)"etty orbs very wifle to 
 l"t her questioner see how very blue eyes would have 
 to })o to bo bluer than her own. 
 
 " Is that so, and Lilla is half in love with him already ? 
 Oh, Lilla, Lilla! And when will this beautiful person 
 be well again?" 
 
 " Don't talk foolishness," replied the girl, blushing 
 furi(jusly. " How could I love a man who has the ' jim- 
 jamsf 
 
 "The 'jim-jams!' What! from drink?" 
 
 " I don't know. But there, there's the music, come 
 along;" and once more Lilla bore away the best waltzer 
 in Antler to the tune of some slow rhythmical German 
 air. 
 
 During the dance the girl said nothing, and after it 
 was over jhe left her partner for someone else (mind 
 you, dancing meant business for Lilla); but towards 
 the end of the evening she sought out the colonel again, 
 and leading him on one side, said: 
 
 I 
 
 hi 
 
 u; 
 
 fil 
 
 Id 
 
 
 It 
 
 ■in 
 
 I. 
 
m 
 
 \H 
 
 
 \ OM «<»» 
 
 ^M i\ys\\i Know /\n\il\iu,u, Wltv^" 
 
 ''t\Mh?>^sft ,*n^v„r Mt^o^irt Mu)>iM\'5i» \\\{'\ \\u\\\ {).>(.( 
 
 VNvU \\\N ^^\f^t<TM' Mut -"^V h,M*V U' VO\» win jji\n lUoUi^V 
 
 <W *^\i^ o^\t{U )>\\\x\ ^\\\\\y >\\u\ <!»)i«N <hl^> \\\i\\\ mIkhji \vlt,>u 
 W f^ WfU j\^*rtu\. \ \\\\\ gi\o \oM {U\^ »u!\|v iu»il v«'ti ivvi» 
 
 '' V^\it \n\\ jsiUx> h^^\\ rt ij\»<niov of yo\u- luiMo?'" 
 *M jii\v y\M^ rt y^Urtviov !»)mo. tn\»l I i«>ll \<Mt Ti'ti* \>mm 
 Tfn\|^1iis)'\ m>x< y>n» »»^y v>m\ rttv ^vn^t^l-^ilt. f\\u\ \\^^ |.| 
 
 *" A* yv>u pl.vrts,N \,\\W \ xNot\'i»| .v\>> foi* von Tio' 
 WvN*'»\<>'i^* <h«t lv|ih* Vol! \\|SMv tl\«^ u»nnM (ih'w \\\\uA\ \u\ 
 
 \\>\A f^\ xhi'^ m^>t<».. Anv^ nvvN^^K t«s^ who kt»ov, m!" 
 And with A »H\i <u\J r* jtinulo. hnlf »u.H>kiti^. half 
 
 * 
 
 I 
 
tffW! I'UUm n» Uttdftt. 
 
 Ifi3 
 
 fll"«fiHv t !IIm. Mu> (itH'ly (tU\ liffw^'l ttU hht ^^^^t ftf>'J 
 liM Itful Mn|<iv<''l 'lifHH. lUc'tfi Mf'iwh f"fM*/l hhti Ui»*'ti 
 
 Mlltio U|)'lti Mm if nil wltl^li l^ndti f,/( A'iMhf 
 
 ii-tyiM'Mni*iii<>fia 
 
 (iKAiri'ii K vr. 
 
 iji 
 
 rnji »MM< ir, /»»f nf.o<»r» 
 
 M' 
 Ml, 
 
 ill' 
 
 1*1* n'MM fM»iM(«>f flny fMif fti,(<;li>, in Afifl^vr, f>1»^, ^}int, 
 (Imh* linl,W««"fl Mtf» f.wo 'f/\ii>lt Mi^ '<f^."«< rtf'*, frt'l>n^ 
 MImI III" iunnti lififi »u<(/ nti<\ llifv Mtin Ii/kj ri'rf, yhh rmMt 
 *ritr» >M»M of M,M Mtl/lll. MJiiflf, Irft/I ^Of»^ iilU'k t^' ^fl^ 
 
 ♦"IrdiMM, llii lt(t»'ly yh\>tUfij\ n\\ foll<»'//»-'l f/ill/i.'«« f%ift%.u,f,\fy 
 niid MJijijM'd HWfiy lo Dn^tr *fWii thninH, n.iuS i)ttf\i'^/h i\it> 
 \\\^t, «lf»tM«ih(4 liM.ll WMM mI,(II 'Ml^f^, Mm* or»Iy p'-'^/i' ir» j^ 
 Wi'it* M, I'nw triModJin l.op^fM <lo/if»^ 'rv<ir Mi^if Vi'^titrt 
 
 Htil, iit |,|(»i •fMiifi '!(,f('<'f/ Ui"f»» 'A/n,<« /»/» li^hf,, t\ft \,'/)ii 
 ♦MliliMr- »i|' 'it(»i or »fi'«»»»i , no lij/;!)!, ni, all tsf.t'opk,ttu*'> ?'*',M<s 
 rny wImiI. itir|«Mr<'/| Fff»ff» l/Mlrt/« wind'/w, /»f»d f^ll n^Z/tf 
 Mm lildrh WM,I.'*» wliirli h»Hf(<d \,\iT'$\l^U M•^ fff/Attt 
 
 Imihhm JM.id MfruMM Mm Idj^/liwoy 
 
 lly find l»y t\. rruui 'rufn^ onf, of M»', ^lv»Tn, KI'iri'Kr'/l 
 lM'»i,vily MVM' Mn» l>ox«iM, n,fid «wor*i «»ftv»t/^l;/ l/*'J<'/w I'm** 
 ItrcMlli MM if \,\\{\ l>f»xr>fl hnxl c/^riHdoti«ly f/,y>'f^,lr^A fftt 
 liifi dowrdM,ll, 
 
 Wlion ln^ IkmI (iirl<<'d lii»n'!''.)f ij(» ri^ain from t.h.'-, rn'vJ, 
 MdM iit|L(ht Itird Hl,ood looking/ fixedly t/>Wf»,rdH t,h^, li^^Kf,, 
 llrul hn MWMy«id ufjMM-rMldy from ^id^-, f/; nuU-., af»d p/'.r- 
 liiipn I'alioii a^ain, Mj^tm would hftv^ ^/*:/;Ti ri<'#thif*g 
 
» ( 
 
 fe*J 
 
 ~~ r 
 
 154 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN OARIBOOl'* 
 
 worth watching about him. Rye whisky, the fresh 
 night air, and the ditches laid across the roads, used 
 often to persuade very honest gentlemen to pass their 
 nights beside the gutter. But this man stood firmly 
 upon his feet, looking steadily at the light ahead of him. 
 Presently ho appeared to have made up his mind, for 
 after looking up and down the road to see whether 
 anyone was watching him, he stole up to the window 
 and crouched beside it in such a position that he could 
 peer in unseen. 
 
 Inside the room the light fell upon bare wooden 
 walls, from which hung a little mirror, and a man's 
 coat and broad-brimmed hat. There was a rifle in one 
 corner, and half the room appeared to be partitioned 
 oft* from the rest by a bright red Hudson Bay blanket 
 hung up as a curtain. In spite of the rifle and the coat 
 an expert would have decided at once that the room 
 was a woman's room. There was a trimness about it 
 not masculine, a cleanliness not Indian. Whatever a 
 red lady's virtues may be, cleanliness and order are not 
 among them. But the figures upon which the light fell 
 explained the anomaly of a rifle and a mirror hung 
 side by side in a miner's shack, and explained, too, 
 why a room in which hung a miner's coat and hat v/as 
 swept and garnished and in order. 
 
 In a bunk against the wall lay a fair-haired man, 
 his eyes shut in sleep, with one powerful arm thrown 
 limp and nerveless upon the outside of his bed. The 
 man who watched him felt a nervous twitching at his 
 throat as his eyes rested upon the big brown hand, 
 contrasting so strongly with the white linen upon 
 which it rested ; for Lilla had given her patient of her 
 best, and Ned Corbett was sleeping between the only 
 pair of sheets in Cariboo. 
 
THE PRICE OF BLOOD. 
 
 165 
 
 \ 
 
 The worst was evidently over for Corbett. The fever, 
 or whatever his disease had been, had left him, worn 
 and pulled down it is true; but the peacei'ulness of his 
 sleep, the calm child-like restfulness of his face, told 
 both his watchers that unless a relapse took place his 
 young life would be as strong in him as ever before 
 many days had passed. 
 
 The colonel, peering in at Lilla's face as she sat and 
 watched her patient, saw very little chance of a relapse 
 whilst she was Corbett's nurse. If tender care and 
 ceaseless watching would save him, Corbett would be 
 saved. The colonel fancied, indeed, that he saw even 
 more than this. His eyes ever since very early days had 
 peered deep into the hearts of men and women; not 
 from sympathy with them, not even from idle curiosity, 
 but to see what profit could be made out of them. Now 
 he thought that he recognized in Lilla's eyes, and in 
 the caressing touch of her hand as she brushed back 
 Corbett's yellow hair, something which he had often 
 seen before, something which he had generally turned 
 to his own advantage at whatever cost to the woman. 
 
 " The little fool!" he muttered. " She has got stuck 
 on him because he has blue eyes and yellow hair like 
 a Deutscher. Great Scott, what simpletons these 
 women are! 
 
 Perhaps the colonel's guess as to the state of Lilla's 
 heart was a shrewd one, perhaps not. At any rate if 
 the girl was in love with her handsome patient she 
 was not herself conscious of it as yet, and as she sat 
 crooning the tender words of a German love song, she 
 was unconscious that they had any special meaning 
 for her. 
 
 " Du du liegst nnir im Hertzen," she sang; but as 
 she sang, she believed that the only feeling which 
 
 I ■! 
 
 i i! 
 
 1 '5 
 
 n 
 
 ^. H 
 
 11 
 
If ■ u 
 
 % i! 
 
 ^ iill 
 
 a:i';;/t'iiiB-»ju-«r:!-,a«Ko-»». 
 
 156 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO 1" 
 
 stirred her heart for the sick man at her side was one 
 of pity for a helpless bankrupt brother. 
 
 For some time Lilla sat dreaming and crooning 
 scraps of German songs, and then a thought seemed 
 to strike her, and she drew from her bosom a little 
 leather case. Opening this she drew from it what 
 looked like an old bill, and indeed it was an old bill- 
 head, frayed and torn as if it had been carried for 
 many, many months in some traveller's pocket. But 
 there was no account of goods delivered and still 
 unpaid for upon that dirty scrap of paper. As Lilla 
 turned it to catch the light, the man at the window 
 had a glimpse of it, and started as if someone had 
 struck him. 
 
 " Old Pete's map, by thunder!" he exclaimed; and so 
 loudly did he speak, or so noisy was his movement as 
 he tried to obtain a better view of that precious docu- 
 ment, that Lilla heard something, and replacing the 
 paper in her pocket rose and came to the window. 
 
 There was only a thin partition of rustic boarding 
 and the bosom of a woman's dress between the most 
 reckless scoundrel in Cariboo and the key to Cariboo's 
 richest gold-mine. He could hear her breathing on 
 the other side of that thin partition, and he knew that 
 his strong fingers could tear it down and wrench away 
 that secret before the woman and the sick man her 
 friend could even call assistance. But ho dared not 
 do the deed. Life was still more than gold to him, 
 and he knew that earth would be hardly large enough 
 to hide the man who should wrong Lilla from the 
 vengeance of the hard-fists she had danced with and 
 sung to in their merry moods, and nursed like a sister 
 in their sickness. 
 
 "No." he muttered, when Lilla had resumed her 
 
'A'fi t^i'SiSMiii'^tmioi^^ 
 
 30 
 
 
 THE PRICE OF BLOOD. 
 
 157 
 
 ler 
 
 seat, " I daren't do it, and I daren't stay another hour. 
 If that fool gets his wits back the cat will soon be out 
 of the bag, and the only question of interest to me 
 will be, — * Is it to be Begbie or Lynch ?' If the boys 
 knew, I believe it would be Lynch!" and muttering 
 and grinding his teeth, a prey to rage and baffled greed, 
 Colonel Cruickshank turned and retraced his steps to 
 his own quarters. 
 
 Once, and only once, he stopped before he reached 
 them, and stood with knitted brows like one who strives 
 to master some difficult problem. At last a light came 
 into his face, and his coarse mouth opened in an evil 
 grin — "I will, by Jove I will! It will be as safe 
 there as anywhere. Cruickshank, my boy, you sliall 
 double the stakes and go for the pot. If I had only 
 seen more of that map — " 
 
 The rest of his sentence was lost as he entered the 
 snack where his goods were stored, and half an hour 
 later, when the sun was still only colouring the sky 
 a faint saifron along the horizon, he strode up to the 
 store of Ben Hirsch, general dealer, money-changer, 
 and purchaser of gold-dust at Antler. 
 
 Old Ben was fairly early himself that morning. He 
 had smoked so much the night before (being a German 
 Jew) that he really needed a breath of fresh air to 
 pull him together, before he engaged in another day 
 of chicanery, bargaining, and theft. But the sight of 
 the dashing colonel at such an hour in the morning 
 considerably astonished him. There was something 
 wrong somewhere, of that he felt quite certain, and 
 wherever there was anything wrong there was profit 
 for the wise old Jew. So his beady eyes twinkled 
 beside his purple beak, and he gave the man he looked 
 upon as his prey the heartiest greeting. 
 
 
 n 
 
 k\ 
 
 ' i 
 
 hi 
 
f^rf 
 
 Mj«s»Ea*i«3jas£>»i\;aMtti« 
 
 158 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO 1" 
 
 ■i 
 
 V 1 
 
 " Goot-momin*, Colonel, goot-momin'. Ach, vot a 
 rustler you are ! No vonder zat you make much gold. 
 Haf you zold ze paeon yet?" 
 
 " Not a cent's worth, uncle. Will you buy?* 
 
 " Ach ! you laugh at me. I haf no monish, you know 
 I haf no monish. Ze freight eats up all ze profit." 
 
 " Keep that for tenderf eet, Ben," replied Cruickshank 
 roughly. "Freight on noedles won't bring them up 
 to fifty cents apiece, even in Cariboo. Will you buy 
 or won't you ? I've no time to talk." 
 
 " Vot is your hurry. Colonel? Ze paeon and ze peans 
 von't shpoil." 
 
 The colonel turned to go. 
 
 "Ach, himmel!" cried the Jew, throwing np his 
 hands deprecatingly. " How these English Heri en are 
 fiery. Colonel, dear Herr Colonel, pe so goot as to 
 listen." 
 
 "Well, what is it? I'll give you five minutes in 
 T»^hich to make a bid. After that I'm off straight to 
 Williams Creek." 
 
 "Paeon is cheap zere. Colonel; almost cheaper zan 
 here. Put I vill puy. Are ve not from of olt be- 
 freinded? Vot you zay, twenty-five cents ze pound ?" 
 
 "Twenty-five fiddlesticks! Do you think I don't 
 know the market prices?" 
 
 But it is not worth while to record all the haggling 
 between Hirsch and Cruickshank. It was a match 
 between the Jew, cool, crafty, and cringing, and the 
 Christian (save the mark !), hurried, and full of strange 
 oaths as become a soldier, "sudden and quick in 
 quarrel." 
 
 From the very outset the colonel had one eye on 
 Ben and the other on the door, and his ears seemed 
 pricked to catch the tramp of men who might be coming 
 
THE PRIC3E OP BLOOD. 
 
 169 
 
 in pursuit. Of course the Jew saw this, and every 
 time the colonel started at some sudden sound, or 
 reddened and swore at his obstinate haggling, Ben's 
 ferret-like eyes gleamed with fresh cunning and in- 
 creased intelligence. 
 
 Like an expert angler he had mastered his fish, and 
 knew it, and meant now to kill him at his leisure, 
 without risking another struggle. And yet (to main- 
 tain the metaphor) this fi^sher of men all at once 
 lowered his point and seemed to let his captive go. 
 
 " Veil, colonel, all right. Suppose you give ze ponies 
 in, I give you your price." 
 
 " You're a hungry thief, Ben. The ponies are worth 
 the money ; but I am not going to do any more pack- 
 ing, so take them and be hanged to you.' 
 
 " Goot. It is a deal zen." 
 
 " Yes, if I may keep the pinto. I want a pony to 
 pack my tools and blankets on." 
 
 "Tools. Vot! you go prospecting, eh?" 
 
 "Yes. I think so." 
 
 " Ach so! By and by you strike it rich. Then you 
 bring your dust to old Ben — eh, colonel?" 
 
 " Maybe. But where are those dollars?" 
 
 " How vill you have them, colonel, — in notes or dust ? " 
 asked the Jew. 
 
 "In dust, of course; those flimsy things would wear 
 out before I could get them down the Frazer. Besides, 
 I've heard that your notes aren't always just like other 
 people's, Ben;" and the colonel pushed over a little pile 
 of dirty " greenbacks." 
 
 "Ach, these are goot notes; but the gold is goot too, 
 Colonel. Vill you veigh it?" 
 
 "You bet I will," replied the colonel, making no 
 parade of confidence in his friend. There was good gold 
 
 ijl' 
 
 ril 
 
 Ml 
 
 
 • i 
 
 I -■■ 
 
 I 
 
160 
 
 <*OOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO 1' 
 
 ^'11 
 
 in old Ben's safe, but the tenderfoot who did not know 
 good gold from bad often got "dust" of the wrong 
 kind. This Cruickshank knew, so that he was careful 
 to examine the quality of the dust in the two small 
 canvas bags, and careful, too, in the weighing of them 
 — trying the scales, and leaving no hole open for fraud 
 to creep through. 
 
 At last even he was satisfied. 
 
 " Yes, Ben, that will do — it's good for the money." 
 
 " Goot dust, isn't it? very goot dust and full measure. 
 See!" and the old Jew put it in the scales again. " But, 
 donner und blitzen, vot vants ze sheriff so early?" 
 
 The last part of the sentence was jerked out at the 
 top of his voice by the dealer in gold as he turned 
 excitedly to stare out of the little window on his left. 
 
 " The sheriff! Did you say the sheriff? Give me the 
 gold. Where is he?" 
 
 Cruickshank had turned as white as the dead, and 
 his hand shook as if he had the palsy, but for all that 
 he managed to snatch up the two small canvas bags 
 from the counter and hide them away in the bosom of 
 his flannel shirt. 
 
 " I zink I zee him go into ze dance-house. But vot 
 is your hurry, colonel? shtay and v< ze deal. Vot, 
 you von't! Ah veil, ze rye is not pad." And so saying 
 Mr. Benjamin Hirsch filled a small glass for himself, 
 and with a wink drank to his departing guest. 
 
 Ben Hirsch was certainly right in calling Colonel 
 Cruickshank a rustler, a Yankee term for a man who 
 does not let the grass grow under his feet. Half an 
 hour after Ben's cry of " Sheriff" the colonel stole out 
 of Antler, driving old Job in front of him, with 
 blankets, gold-pan, and all the rest of a prospector's 
 slender outfit, securely fastened upon the pony's back. 
 
THE PRIOB OF BLOOD. 
 
 161 
 
 As soon as he was well out of sight of the camp, 
 the fugitive diverged from the main trail, and took 
 instead a little-used path, leading direct over a difficult 
 country to Soda Creek, on the Frazer. Along this he 
 drove his pony at a speed which made that wall-eyed, 
 cow-hocked quadruped grunt and groan in piteous 
 fashion. In all his days Job had never before found 
 a master who could and would get a full day's work out 
 of him, without giving him a single chance to wander 
 or even knock his packs oflf amongst the timber. At 
 last, when the sun had begun to go west, Cruickshank 
 paused, sat down upon a log, and lit his pipe. As he 
 smoked and thought, the lines went out of his face, 
 until he almost looked once more the oily, plausible 
 scoundrel whom we first met in Victoria. 
 
 " Yes," he muttered, " it was a bold game, but I made 
 my bluff stick. Why, if old Ben knew that I didn't 
 have even a pair to draw to, wouldn't he 'raise Cain?"* 
 And so saying, he put his hand inside his shirt and 
 drew out the two little bags of gold-dust, weighing 
 them nicely in his hands, and regarding them as 
 lovingly as a mother would her first-born. For a 
 minute or two his fingers played with the strings 
 which fastened the mouth of each sack, but finally 
 thought better of it and put them back into his pocket 
 without untying them. To this man life was a game 
 of poker, and for the present he considered that he 
 had risen a winner though the odds had been against 
 him, and "with his winnings in his pocket he smacked 
 old Job on the quarter's, held up his head, and felt 
 ready for a fresh deal. 
 
 And old Ben — what of him? Did he hurry away 
 to secure the pack-ponies and their loads, or to see 
 what the sheriff wanted at the dance-house? Not a 
 
 I 
 
 )^ 
 
 I 
 
lit 
 
 i 
 
 f ! I 
 
 ! ifl 
 
 163 
 
 "GOLD, (lOLD IN CARIBOO I" 
 
 bit of ifc. He knew (none better) that tlio HherifT wan 
 away at Williams Creek, and ho knew, too, — he i«new 
 enough of human nature to bo sure that IJau Cruick- 
 shank would never return to Antler unless he was 
 brought back against his will. Jle had sold his packs 
 and his ponies for two little bags of gold ("of gold, ho 
 ho!" chuckled the Jew), and even if he should find 
 anything wix)ng with the gold ho would not dare to 
 come back to claim his packs. 
 
 " I yonder vot Dan has peen up to," mused the son 
 of Israel. " He play zo carts a leetle too veil lor his 
 friends, I know, put it must pe zomething worse zan 
 zat. Ach veil, it was ver goot zat I knew a Icotle how 
 to conjuro;"and still chuckling and nnitterin' o himself, 
 he took from a shelf just below the counter two small 
 bags similar to those in Cruickshank's shirt front, and 
 put them tenderly and reverently away in his safe. 
 They contained good gold-dust 
 
 Those which Cruickshank was carrying away con- 
 tained a good many things, the price of innocent blood 
 for instance, but Ben Hirsch would not have given 
 many dollars for all that they contained. Whilst the 
 colonel was looking for the sheriff, Ben had substituted 
 bags of copper pyrites for bags of gold. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 chance's gold-fever returns. 
 
 WELL, Steve, what is the news ? I can see that you 
 are just bursting with intelligence. Out with 
 it, little man." 
 
ohanoe's OOLD-PEVER riETURNa 
 
 163 
 
 " Bell has Htruck it rich again. It's a fortune this 
 time, thoy Hay." 
 
 "iHthat all? Poor 1^)11! Ho'II })o dnink. thon, ut 
 Victoria the whole of th(5 wini<!r. I HhoiiNhj't ho Hiir- 
 priHod if this second Htroke of luck killed hiiri." 
 
 The Rpeakers were our old fricnd.M Ned Corhett 
 and Steve Chance, and when Stcsvo joined hi in Ned 
 waH flitting with his lon^ gum hootH tuckjid under 
 a tahle in the Antler dance-house, smoking his evening 
 pipe. 
 
 It was nearly a month since Cruickshank had stolen 
 away from Antler, and since tlien Ned hod recovered 
 all his old strength and vigour. 
 
 At first he had brooded incessantly over Cruick- 
 shank's escape, but as the days went by he realized that 
 there was no chance for him, without knowledrr of the 
 country and without funds, against a man like the 
 colonel, with a fortnight's start of him. Together with 
 one or two miners to whom he had told his tale he had 
 made an atti^mpt to follow Cruickshank's tracks, and 
 had succeeded in tracking him and his pony as far as 
 the main trail to Soda Creek. Here the tracks, which 
 were already old, became confused with others, and 
 sorely against their will the pursuers had to give up 
 the chase. 
 
 "Cruickshank has got clean away with you this 
 journey, partner, and I guess you may as well own up 
 to it," was the verdict of one of his comrades. 
 
 And Ned, recognizing the justice of it, threw up the 
 sponge, and owned himself beaten for tlie time; but 
 although he said no more about the claims or the packs 
 or the comrade of wliom he had boen robbed, he consoled 
 himself with the thought that life was long and had 
 in it many chances, and that whenever his chance came, 
 
 I 
 
 ir. 
 
 
 
 m 
 
•UMMkttwAIitaibS* 
 
 ' ■^'•- y^-'-^' ^•'*"'' '»*:r"-,«»-f!w»*"^^ 
 
 i I! 
 
 164 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO 1" 
 
 however late, it would find his hand as strong and as 
 quick to take vengeance as it was to-day. 
 
 As soon as his story had become known, and men had 
 seen what manner of man he was, Ned had found no 
 difficulty in getting employment in the claims, and, in- 
 deed, he had done so well that he had been induced to 
 send a message to his friends at Williams Creek, in an- 
 swer to which Steve and Phon had hastened to join him 
 at Antler. Rampike promised to come up later on in the 
 fall, but as yet he had plenty to do in his own claim. 
 
 For a full foi-tnight the three comrades had worked 
 away steadily with pick and shovel, and now, in spite 
 of all his troubles, Ned was his own cheery self again, 
 proud of the strength which enabled him to do almost 
 as much as two other men, and content with the work 
 which kept him supplied with all the necessaries of 
 life. But if Ned Corbett was content, his comrades 
 were not. Steve hated the daily labour for daily wage, 
 and Phon was hardly strong enough for the work, and 
 anxious to go off prospecting on his own account. 
 
 "What a phlegmatic old cuss you are, Ned! Don't 
 you envy Bell a bit?" 
 
 "Not I. Why should I? I am strong and well 
 again, thank God. I've plenty of fresh air and hard 
 work, and I'm earning ten dollars a day — " 
 
 " And spending eight. You won't make a fortune 
 that way." 
 
 " Who said that I should ? Who said that I wanted 
 to? Why, my dear chap, just think for a moment. If I 
 did make a fortune I should have to stop at home and 
 invest it and look after it. Stop at home, do you hear, 
 Steve?" 
 
 " You'll die a pauper, Ned," asserted Chance solemnly. 
 
 " And you, perhaps, a millionaire. Poor old chap ! I'm 
 
chance's gold-fever returns. 
 
 166 
 
 fed 
 fl 
 ,nd 
 ar, 
 
 ly- 
 
 m 
 
 sorry for you. I am indeed. Well, Lilla, what can I 
 do for you?" and Ned, rising, took off his hat, as if he 
 had been saluting a duchess. 
 
 "The boys want a song, Ned Will you sing for 
 them?" asked the girl, her pretty eyes brightening and 
 her cheeks flushing as she took Ned's hand. Some- 
 how, though Ned had often sought her, he had seen 
 very little of his gentle nurse since he had become 
 convalescent. 
 
 "Bother the boys!" quoth this young man of big 
 muscle and limited intelligence. " I'm not going to do 
 any work to-night. I have earned enough money for 
 the day; but," he added quickly as he saw the girl's 
 look of disappointment, " I'll sing for you, little sister, 
 and you can give the money to the next dead-beat you 
 nurse back again to life." 
 
 " I never nursed any dead-beats," began Lilla. 
 
 " Oh no, of course not. Never heard of Ned Cor- 
 bett, or Pete of Lost Creek, or any of that crowd, did 
 you, Lilla? Now I'm going to sing;" and with that 
 he threw back his head, and sang in a full rich baritone 
 a song of his Canadian lumbering days: — 
 
 A SONG OF THE AXE. 
 
 When winter winds storm, and the snow-flakes swarm. 
 
 And the forest is soft to our tread; 
 When the women folk sit, by their fires fresh lit, 
 
 Oh, ho, for the toque of red ! 
 With our strong arms bare, it's little we care 
 
 For politics, rates, or tax ; 
 Let the good steel ring on the forest king — 
 
 Oh, ho, for the swing of the axe ! 
 
 Your diamonds may glitter, your rubies flame, 
 
 Our gems are but frozen dew; 
 Yet yours grow tame, being always the same, 
 
 Ours every night will renew. 
 
 til 
 Ml 
 
iWliffiaHMBIMIilMIMI 
 
 
 wmn/itmmatn^^sM*^ 
 
 11 
 
 1 
 
 'i^i 
 
 iiinl 
 
 
 ft! 
 
 '!fi 
 
 'I', 
 
 166 "GOLT», GOLD IN CARIBOO !" 
 
 Let the world rip : tighten your grip, 
 
 Make the blades glitter aud shine; 
 At it you go. swing to each blow, 
 
 Aud dowu with the pride of the pine ! 
 
 For tiie trees, I ween, which have long grown green 
 
 In the light of tlie sun and the aiars, 
 Must bend tleir backs Lo the lumberer's axe, 
 
 Mere timber and planks and spars! 
 Then oh, ho, bo ! for the carpet of snow ! 
 
 Oh, ho, for tl;3 foresL of pine i 
 Wealth shall be yours, with its business and bores, 
 
 Health and ].p.;d labour be mine ! 
 
 "Ilealth and hard labour he mine!" thundered a score 
 of voices, and a score o': strone; labour-hardened ha,nds 
 came crashing down upon the rough deal tables. 
 " Bravo, Ned ! " '*' That's your sort for Cariboo ! " " Mate, 
 we'll wet that song if you please," and a dozen other 
 similar expressions of approval raw arded Ned for his 
 efforts, but Steve Chance did not go as far as the rest 
 of the audience. 
 
 " A pretty good 3ong, Ned," he said, " with lots of 
 shouting in it, but no sense." 
 
 " Give us 0, better, little one," replied his friend good- 
 naturedly. * Ah, Lilla, you are a brick — I beg your 
 pardon, but .1 don't know the German for a fairy 
 who brings a thirsty man iust what he wants;" and 
 Ned buried his moustache in a foaming glass of 
 Lager. 
 
 " That beats all the champagne and such li/«:e trash 
 into fits," ho added with a sigh of satisfaction as he put 
 down the empty glass. " Now, Steve, beat my song if 
 you can." 
 
 " Beat it! No trouble to do tnat. If the boys don't 
 shout themselves silly over my chorus I'll take a back 
 seat." 
 
 1^, '. 
 
chance's gold-flv^er returns. 
 
 167 
 
 "You wouldn't stay there if you did," laughed Ned; 
 " but drive on, my boy." 
 
 Thus adjured, Steve got up and sang with a spirit 
 and go of which I am unable to give any adequate 
 idea, the song of — 
 
 THE YANKEE DOl i AR 
 
 With sword or shovel, pick or pen, 
 
 All strive to win the yellow ore; 
 And " bust or boom," our natural doom, 
 
 Is but \o love the dollar more. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 The Yankee doodle dollar, oh ! 
 I'm no saint or scholar, oh! 
 I only know, that high or low, 
 Ail love the Yankee dollar, oh I 
 
 In miner's ditch some strike it rich, 
 
 And some die in the collar, oh 1 
 But live or die, succeed or sigh, 
 
 All strive to win the dollar, oh ! 
 
 "Chorus, gentlemen, — 'The Yankee doodle dollar 
 oh!'" sang Chance, and the whole room rose to him 
 and sang as one man — 
 
 The Yankee doodle dollar, oh ! 
 I'm no saint or scholar, oh ! 
 I only know, that high or low, 
 All love the Yankee dollar, oh ! 
 
 There was no question as to Steve's victory. Ned 
 had stirred the hearts of a few, and pleased all, but Steve 
 had played upon the principal chord in the heart of 
 Antler, and for weeks the men hummed the enq^ty 
 words and whistled the frivolous, ranting little air of 
 " The Yankee doodle dollar, oh I" until even its author 
 was sick of it. 
 
 "You see, Ned, everyone thinks the same except 
 
 m 
 
 
 H 
 
 
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 i 
 
 
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 fi 
 
 ^! ^ 
 
 H 
 
 ;*; 
 
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..fSg 
 
 Q 
 
 168 
 
 "GOLD, r.OLD IN CAniBOOl" 
 
 i#f!| 
 
 
 i 
 
 yon," said Chance, when the apphuise Imd somewhat 
 moderated. "Why the dence are you so pig-headed? 
 Now that we have saved a few dollars why should we 
 not go prospecting and make our pile like other people? 
 I'm sick of all this picking and scratching in other 
 men's claims." 
 
 " ' Yo mun larn to scrat afore yo peck,' " replied Ntnl 
 stolidly, quoting a good old Shropshire proverb; "and 
 'scratting* for ten dollars a day doesn't seem to me to 
 be very badly-paid labour." 
 
 " You forget, Ned, that this cain't last. How do you 
 mean to live during the winter?" 
 
 " Sufficient unto the day — " began Ned, and then 
 suddenly altering his tone he added, " What is it that 
 you want me to do, Steve?" 
 
 " What do I want you to do? Wliy, what any other 
 man in Cariboo would do if he had half your chance. 
 Take Lilla's offer and go and look for Pete's Creek for 
 her." 
 
 "Pete's Creek! Why, my dear Steve, you don't 
 seriously believe in that cock-and-bull story, do you?" 
 
 "Don't you believe Lilla?" retorted Chance. 
 
 ' Of course I believe Lilla, " replied Corbctt hotlj-, 
 " but she only tells the story as it was told to her." 
 
 " By a dying man who knew that he was dying, to 
 a woman who had nursed him for weeks like a sister I 
 According to you, Pete must have been a worse liar 
 than Ananias, Ned." 
 
 " I didn't say Pete lied either, but Pete may not have 
 been sane when he died. You know that he had been 
 drinking like a fish before Lilla got hold of him." 
 
 " Yes, and slept out a couple of nights in the snow. 
 I know that. But he died of pleurisy, not of the 
 jim-jams." 
 
 
 
ClIANCF/S aOLD-FEVFR RETURNS. 
 
 160 
 
 "Well, have your own way, but nothirif^ will make 
 me believe in that creek. It bad too mucli gold in it," 
 replied Corbett. "And even it' I did believe in it, why 
 should I take Lilla's gold? Hawn't .she done enough 
 for me already?" 
 
 " Perhaps. But if you don't get it for her, I guean 
 someone else will come along an<l iind it for himself." 
 
 " Why don't you go for it, Steve, if you believe 
 in it? 
 
 "So I would if Lilla would trust me; but you see 
 Lilla is not spoons on me, and she is on you." 
 
 Corbett flushe<l to the roots of his yellow hair. 
 
 "Don't talk rot. Chance, and leave Lilla's name 
 
 "But 
 
 aune. 
 
 " I'm not talking rot," said Chance seriously. 
 say, Ned, do you mean to marry that girl ? " 
 
 " Marry your grandmother! I don't mean to marry 
 anyone, and no one is such a fool as to want to marry 
 me. 
 
 " All right, Ned, don't lose your temper; but I know, 
 old chap, that you would not like to get Lilla talked 
 about, and the boys are beginning to say that Lilla 
 got rid of her heart when you got rid of your fever." 
 
 ' The boys are a parcel of chattering idiots, whose 
 mouths will get stopped pn tty roughly if they talk 
 like that before me," growled Ned. "But really, Steve,. 
 this is too ridiculoas. Fancy anyone wanting to marry 
 me!" and the speaker looked down with a grin at his 
 mud-spattered, much-mended pants, passed his hand 
 meditatively over a rough young beard of three months' 
 growth, and burst out laughing. 
 
 Ned Corbett was hearfj-whole, and he di4 not see 
 why everyone else should not be as lucky in that 
 respect as himself. • 
 
 till 
 
 afi ii 
 
 !1 
 
 = 
 
 t ' 
 
 i Jll 
 
 i 
 
n- 
 
 
 170 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO 1" 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 ON THE colonel's TRAIL AGAIN. 
 
 THE day after the conversation recorded in the last 
 chapter happened to be Sunday — a day which 
 at Antler differed very little from any other day, ex- 
 cept that a few tenderfeet, mostly Britishers, struck 
 work on that day, and indulged in what some of their 
 friends called a " good square loaf." Ned Corbett was 
 one of these Sunday loafers. Of course there was no 
 church at Antler, nor any parson except upon very 
 rare occasions. But Ned had an ear for the anthems 
 which the mountain breezes are always singing, and 
 an eye for nature's attitude of reverence towards her 
 Creator. 
 
 Every Sunday it was Ned's wont to go out by him- 
 self, and lie on a rock in the sun out of hearing of the 
 noise of the great mining-camp, saying nothing at all 
 himself, but thinking a good deal, and keeping quite 
 quiet to hear what nature had to say to him. 
 
 As he was coming away from such a loaf as this, he 
 met Lilla wandering up the >>anks of a mountain 
 stream, gathering berries and vvild flowers. 
 
 Ned thought that his litcle friend had never looked 
 prettier than she did at that moniont — her soft vt lUnv 
 hair blown out by the breeze, her little figure r lOving 
 gracefully amongst the Kndders, the colour of wild 
 roses in her cheeks, ai; 1 a deep strong light in her blue 
 eyes, like the light of the stars when there is irost ia 
 the northern sky. 
 
 For a little while he watched her, as she humm<Ki a 
 
 \ 
 
 
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 ON THE colonel's TRAIL AGAIN. 
 
 171 
 
 song amongst the flowers and added fresh treasures to 
 the already overgrown bouquet in her hand. 
 
 * If she would take a man just as he is, she would 
 make a sweet little wife for a Cariboo miner," thought 
 the young man; " that is, if he meant always to remain 
 a Cariboo miner. But, poor child! I'in afraid she'd find 
 a Shropshire welcome rather chilly even after Cariboo, 
 Ah! weU," he added to himself as he went jumping 
 over the boulders to meet her, " luckily I don't want a 
 wife, and Lilla doesn't want a husband." 
 
 The next moment Lilla and he stood face to face. 
 
 "Did I frighten you, Lilla?" he asked, picking up 
 some flowers which the girl had dropped. " Did you 
 think I was a grizzly?" 
 
 " Not so bad as that, Ned. But what do you up here ?" 
 
 " I'm taking a 'cultus coolee,' " replied he, using the 
 Indian phrase in use among the miners for a walk 
 which has no object. " You are doing the same, I 
 fancy. Let us do it together." 
 
 "What! you wish to come with me? Well, come 
 thou," rrpliod Lilla. "You can help me carry these." 
 
 Ned took the boU(|uet, and after a while said, "I 
 have been wanting to have a good talk with you, Lilla, 
 for some time." 
 
 " So, Ned ! what is it about ? " She tried hard to speak 
 in an unconcerned ofl'-hand way, but in spite of her, 
 her colour rose and then paled, and her voice had an 
 unnatural ring in it, Ned looked at her. Could there 
 be anything in what Steve suggested the other night? 
 he asked liiui.self, and then almost in the same second 
 he repented him of the thought. Ned Corbett was 
 not one of those men who twist tlinir moustaches com- 
 placently, and conclude that every woman they meet 
 must fall in love with them. 
 
 
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 172 
 
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 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO!" 
 
 "I want you to tell me about Pete and his creek 
 again," he said. " Steve Chance is awfully keen to go 
 prospecting, and to go and look for this gold-mine of 
 yours." 
 
 " And why not, Ned ? I wish you would, for my 
 sake." 
 
 "I would do a good deal for your sake, Lilla," he 
 answered: " but I can't believe in this creek, you know." 
 
 " Not beUeve in it ! Why not, Ned ?" 
 
 "There was too much gold in it; the whole story 
 is too much like a fairy tale. And then, you know, 
 when you took him in, Pete was as penniless as I was." 
 
 " Penniless ! What's that ? " 
 
 "Hadn't a cent to his name, I mean, and you fed 
 him and took care of him." 
 
 " Ach, so. Well, what has that to do with the creek ?" 
 
 " People who find gold-mines ought not to be depen- 
 dent upon good little girls like you for their bread and 
 cheese. It's not natural, you know." 
 
 " Ach, now you make me to understand. But you 
 yourself, you dv)n't know Cariboo ways. Pete had 
 plenty of dust, oh, lots and lots of dust, when he came 
 down; but, of course, he blew it all in before I saw him." 
 
 To anyone not conversant with mining life that " of 
 course" of Lilla's was delicious. To the steady-going 
 collector of hard-earned copper and silver it seems 
 anything but a matter of course to " blow in" a fortune 
 in a fortnight; but then things were not done in an 
 ordinary jog-trot fashion either in California in '4i) 
 or in Cariboo in '62. 
 
 "Oh! of course, of course I" returned Ned with a 
 smile which he could not hide. "I beg your pardon, 
 Lilla. I had forgotten for a moment that I was in 
 Cariboo, and thought as if I were at home again. Well, 
 
ON THE colonel's TRAIL AGAIN. 
 
 173 
 
 and what was the matter with your beggared Croesus 
 when you found him?" 
 
 " If you mean what was the matter with Pete, I have 
 before told you. He drink too much one night, and 
 then he fall asleep in the snow, and when he wake in 
 the morning he have the pleurisy, I think you call him." 
 
 It was a long sentence for Lilla, who was getting a 
 little bit roused by the young scoffer at her side; and, 
 moreover, her English was always best when produced 
 in small quantities. 
 
 "And why did they bring him to you?" 
 
 " Where else could they take him ? The boys can't 
 leave their claims to nurse sick men, and at night they 
 are too tired to nurse anyone. And besides — " 
 
 'And besides," interrupted her companion, "Lilla 
 is never tired. Oh, dear, no! Her eyes never want 
 sleep, nor her limbs rest after dancing with all those 
 roughs on a floor like a ploughed field." 
 
 "Don't you call the boys roughs, Ned. They are 
 not rough to me. Of course I had to nurse old Pete. 
 What are women meant for?" 
 
 " Something better than camp-life in Cariboo," re- 
 plied Corbett warmly; "but it is just as well for me 
 that you don't think so," 
 
 " Well, and so I nursed him," continued the girl, 
 disregarding Ned's last speech altogether; " and some- 
 times he told me where he had been, and how much 
 gold he had found, and at last one day when he knew 
 that he must die he told me of this creek in Chi lectin 
 with gold in the bed of it — free gold, coarse gold in 
 nuggets and lumps, and as nmch as ever you want of it." 
 
 " Why did he not bring down more of it, instead of 
 letting you keep him as you kept me?" asked the 
 doubter. 
 
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 174 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO 1" 
 
 " Ach, hvmmel ! Keep you ! I didn't keep you. You 
 are too proud, and will pay for every little thing; but 
 old Pete, he understood Cariboo ways. To-day you 
 strike it rich and I am stone-broke. Very well. I lend 
 you a handful of dollars and start you again. You 
 don't need to thank me. Any gambler would do as 
 much. By and by I strike it even rockier than you 
 struck it. All right, then you ' ante' up for me. That's 
 Cariboo." 
 
 "Is it?" asked Ned, looking into the eager friendly 
 face of this exponent of a new commercial creed. " Is 
 that Cariboo? Well, Lilla, I expect Samaria must be 
 somewhere in Cariboo. But finish your story about 
 Pete." 
 
 " Oh, Pete 1 Well, Pete j ust died quietly, and he knew 
 it was coming, and before it came he pulled out this," 
 and the girl drew from her bosom an old frayed bill- 
 head which we have seen before, " and gave it to me, 
 and told me that as soon as I found — • Ach, what am I 
 saying? I forget." AndLillasuddenlybrought her story 
 to an abrupt conclusion, with stumbling tongue and 
 flaming cheeks, for as a fact the old man had told her 
 that this map of his was the key to much gold, and that 
 when she should have found a man worthy of her, she 
 was to send him to bring it to her, and it should be 
 to her for a dowry. But this was not quite what the 
 honest little hurdy girl cared to tell Ned Corbett at 
 present. However, Ned never noticed her embarrass- 
 ment. His eyes were busy with the document in his 
 hand. 
 
 " It seems a good clear map, and looks as if the man 
 who made it was quite sane," he muttered 
 
 " Sane? What is that — ' sane?' " asked Lilla. 
 
 " Level-headed " answered Ned shortly. 
 
 « 
 
ON THE colonel's TRAIL AGAIN. 
 
 175 
 
 "You bet he was level-headed, Ned. Ach, mein 
 freund, how you doubt ! I tell you there are not many 
 men in Cariboo who would not go to look for that 
 creek, if I would let them," 
 
 Again Ned remembered Steve's words, " Slie'll only 
 trust you because she has lost her heart to you." 
 
 " Did you ever give anyone a hint as to where the 
 creek was, Lilla?" 
 
 " No, never. At least no, I didn't tell him. but one 
 man nearly guessed once." 
 
 "Nearly guessed once?" 
 
 "Yes. He said he knew more than I thought and I had 
 better trust him, and wusu't the creek at the head of 
 the Chilcotin? And I said, 'Well, which side of theChil- 
 cotin?* And then he smiled,and I felt angry. And when 
 he said on the right bank I was glad, and I cried * No, 
 it isn't, I knew you didn't know.' And then he smiled 
 more, and I saw that I had told him what he wanted 
 to know. But after all that is not much, is it?" 
 
 "Who was the man, Lilla?" 
 
 " Colonel — Colonel — ach, I forget, there are so many 
 colonels in America." 
 
 "True, but what was he like?" Ned had a queer 
 fancy to know who this clever cross-examiner might be. 
 
 " A thick dark man, stout and smooth." 
 
 " With a lot of rings on his fingers?" 
 
 " Yes, always loi^ of rings. Oh, he was a fine man, 
 and such a dancer!" 
 
 " Cruickshank." 
 
 "That is it — Cruickshank, Colonel Cruickshank. 
 But how did you know, Ned?" 
 
 "Oh, I have seen him before," replied Corbett 
 quietly. 
 
 This was indeed news to him, but ho felt that he 
 
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 176 
 
 "GOLD, GOIJ) IN cariboo!" 
 
 
 must be very careful not to frighten Lilla, to whom 
 oddly enough the name of the man who had robbed 
 Corbett had never yet been mentioned. That he had 
 been robbed of course she knew, but by one of those 
 strange accidents which often happen, she had never 
 heard who had robbed him. 
 
 " So that is all you can tell me about the creek is it, 
 Lilla?" said Ned after a long pause. "Well, if you 
 still wish me to go at the end of this week, I will go 
 for you; if I lind it you shall pay me ten dollars a day 
 for my work, and Phon and Steve the same ; and if not, 
 — well, if not, I shall have earned a right to teaze you 
 if you believe in such cock-and-bull stories for the 
 future." And Ned gave Lilla her bouquet and pre- 
 pared to leave her, for they had by this time reached 
 the door of her little cottage. 
 
 " Oh no, Ned, that is not so at all, at all. If you 
 don't find it, of course I pay the cost; and if you do, we 
 go shares in the find." 
 
 "As you please, Lilla, but we have got to find the 
 creek first," and so saying he turned and strode ofi* to 
 his own hut. 
 
 There were many reasons now why he should go to 
 look for Pete's Creek, but the belief in Pete's Creek or 
 the hope of finding it was not amongst them. 
 
 Cruickshank knew something of the whereabouts of 
 the creek, Cruickshank with his insatiable love of gold ; 
 and Ned himself had tracked him towards Soda Creek, 
 where he must cross the Frazer to get to Chilcotin. 
 
 Yes, that was it. The tables were turning at last, 
 and if there was such a place as Pete's Creek, Ned 
 would find Cruickshank there, and shoot him like a 
 bear over a carcase. 
 
"GOOD-BYE, LILLA." 
 
 177 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 GOOD-BYE, LILLA. 
 
 IT was not Ned Corbett's nature to say much about 
 what he felt. Like most of his countrymen Ned 
 was reserved to a fault, and prided himself upon an 
 impassive demeanour, suffering failure or achieving 
 success with the same quiet smile upon his face. The 
 English adage " Don't cry until you are hurt " had 
 been only a part of the law of his childhood; the rest 
 of it read according to his teachers: " and then grin and 
 bear it." 
 
 But even Steve, who knew Corbett as intimately as 
 one man can know another, was astounded at the readi- 
 ness with which, after one wild effort to grapple with 
 the man who had killed Roberts, Corbett had been 
 content to settle down quietly to his daily labour in 
 the claims at Antler. 
 
 He could understand that his friend would take his 
 own losses quietly. Steve, like all Yankees and all 
 true gamblers, was a good loser himself, and didn't 
 expect to hear a man make a moan over his own mis- 
 fortunes, but he had not expected to see Ned abandon 
 liis vengeance so readily. 
 
 After Lilla's incidental mention of Cruickshank, 
 Steve began to understand his friend better. His 
 impatience to be on the war-path again was the real 
 thing ; the assur ;e: ; * almness and content had after all 
 been but the mi nnerism of the athlete, vvho smiles a 
 sweet smile as he ' v;iif s whilst the blows rain upon him, 
 for a chance of krxocking his man out of time before his 
 .">wn eyes close aid his own strength fails him. 
 
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 WEBSTER, NY. 14580 
 
 (716) 872-4503 
 

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 178 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO !" 
 
 "So! you've only been lying low all this time, old 
 man, and I thought you had forgotten," said Chance, 
 when Ned told him of his conversation with Lilla. 
 " Great Scott, I wouldn't care to be Cruickshank ! " 
 
 "Forgotten!" echoed Corbett. "Do you suppose I 
 am likely to forget that Roberts risked his life for 
 mine, and that Cruickshank took it — took it when the 
 old man sat with his back to him, and his six-shooter 
 hanging in a tree?" 
 
 *' No, I don't suppose you would forget, Ned. When 
 shall we start? Phon and myself could be ready to 
 'pull out' to-morrow." 
 
 "That would suit me, Steve, but I am afraid that 
 you and Phon are embarking on a wild-goose chase. I 
 don't believe in that creek of Pete's one bit more now 
 than I did before I saw Lilla's map." 
 
 "That's all right, Ned; but you see Cruickshank 
 believed in it, p.nd so do we." 
 
 " Yes, Cruickshank believed in it, and in looking for 
 the one we shall find the other. That is why I am 
 going." 
 
 " I know all about that; but as long as we both want 
 to find the same place, I don't see that it matters a 
 row of beans why we want to find it," replied Steve. 
 " And mind you," he added, " I would be just as glad 
 to let a little daylight into Cruickshank as you would." 
 
 " Very well, if that is your way of looking at it, we 
 need lose no more time. You are old enough to know 
 your own business." 
 
 " That's what. How about a cayuse?'' 
 
 " I bought one yesterday for a hundred dollars." 
 
 "A hundred dollars ! Great Scott, what a price!" 
 
 " Yes, it is a good deal, but old Dad wouldn't let the 
 beast ^o for less. He calculated it at so much a pound, 
 
"GOOD-BYE, LILL^" 
 
 179 
 
 and told me that if I knew where to get fresh meat 
 cheaper in Antler I'd better buy it." 
 
 " Fresh meat! I like that. Has old Dad taken to 
 selling beef upon the hoof, then?" 
 
 " Seems so. Anyway I had to pay for the bobtail 
 almost as if I were buying beefsteak by the hundred- 
 weight." 
 
 " Well, I suppose we cain't help ourselves ; we shall 
 only be stone-broke again. It appears to be a chronic 
 condition with us. Let's go and look at the brute." 
 
 An inspection of the bobtail did not bring much 
 consolation to either Steve or Ned, for in spite of the 
 smart way in which he had been docked, he was as 
 ragged and mean-looking a brute as anyone could 
 want to see. Besides, he was what the up-country 
 folk call "a stud," and anyone who has ever driven 
 these beasts, knows that they add vices peculiar to 
 their class to the ordinary vices of the cayuse nature. 
 
 " He ain't a picture, but we've got to make the best 
 of him," remarked Steve. " So if you'll just fix things 
 with Lilla, I'll see about getting grub and a pack- 
 saddle. We might be ready to start to-night." 
 
 This was Steve's view on Tuesday at mid-day. At 
 five o'clock on Wednesday he was a humbler man, 
 heartily thankful that at last he really had got 
 together most of the things necessary for one pack- 
 horse. The last twenty-four hours had been passed, it 
 seemed to him, in scouring the whole country for pack- 
 saddles, sweat-clothes, cinch-hooks, and all sort of 
 things, which hitherto (when Cruickshank and Roberts 
 had had charge of the train) had seemed always at 
 hand as a matter of course. 
 
 " Hang me if the cayuse doesn't want more fixing 
 than a Brooklyn belle." muttered Steve. " But say. 
 
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 180 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO 1' 
 
 Ned/' he added aloud, "do you moan to start to- 
 night?" 
 
 In another two hours it would he comparatively 
 dark in the narrow canyons through which the trail 
 to Soda Creek ran, and in two hours the three travel- 
 lers could not hope to '.nake nnich of a journey. 
 
 " Better wait till to-morrow, boys," remarked an old 
 miner who had been lending a hand with the packing, 
 trying in vnin to show Ned how the diamcmd hitch 
 ought to go. " It ain't no manner of use starting out at 
 this time o' day." 
 
 " I would start if it were midnight, Jack," replied 
 Corbett resolutely. " Once we get under weigh things 
 will go better, but if we stayed over the night in camp, 
 something would be sure to turn up to waste another 
 day. Are you ready there, Steve?" 
 
 " All set, sonny," replied Steve, giving a final try at 
 the cinch for form's sake. 
 
 "Then just drive on. I am ^<iing to get the map 
 from Lilla;" and so saying he bent his steps towards 
 the dance-house, whilst, one leading and the other 
 driving, his companions trudged away along the trail 
 to Soda Creek. 
 
 When he reached the dance-house Lilla was waiting 
 for him, and together the two turned their backs upon 
 Antler and walked slowly away under the pines. 
 
 "So then," said Lilla, "you will really go away 
 to-night." 
 
 "Yes, we are really going, Lilla, to look for your 
 golden creek. Don't you feel as if you were a million- 
 aire already? Chance does, I know, and has decided 
 to whom he will leave his estate when he dies." 
 
 Ned spoke lightly, and laughed as he spoke. He 
 saw that the girl was depressed, and wanted to cheer 
 
"GOOD-BYK, LlUJi." 
 
 181 
 
 ded 
 
 He 
 leer 
 
 her up. But Lilla only gave a little shiver, though the 
 evening air was far from cold. 
 
 "Don't talk of dying, Ned. It is not good to talk 
 of. Men die fast enough out here." She was thinking, 
 poor little soul! how very near death that gallant 
 yellow-haired friend of hers had been when she first 
 saw him, and perhaps death might come near him 
 again whilst she was not by to watch over him. 
 
 Ned looked surprised at her mood, but pa.s.scd lightly 
 to another subject. 
 
 "As you please, Lilla, Where am I to find you 
 when we come back from Chilcotin?" 
 
 " D(i8 weiaa der lieber Qott" she answered, speaking 
 half to herself. And then recovering herself she added 
 in a firmer voice, " Either here or at Kamloops : most 
 likely at Kamloops, if you are not back soon." 
 
 "But we shall be back soon. What ails you to- 
 night?" 
 
 "It is nothing, Ned; but it seems as if s'lmmer had 
 gone soon this year, and these great mountains will all 
 be white again directly. I don't think you will get 
 back here this fall." 
 
 " Not get back this fall ! Why, surely, Lilla, you 
 don't think that we mean to jump your claims, or make 
 off with your gold?" 
 
 "No, no! of course not. I know vou don't care 
 for the gold, Ned, like the other men. You don't care 
 for anything like other men, I think." 
 
 "Don't I? Just wait until I come back from Chil- 
 cotin and pour buckets of dust into your lap. See if I 
 won't want my share then ?" 
 
 "I wonder how long it will be that I must wait, 
 Ned? I think sometimes that we shall never meet 
 again. Tell me, do you think such atoms as we are 
 
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 Ik 
 
 m 
 
 182 
 
 "GOLD, aOLD IN OARIBOOl" 
 
 could ever find their way to one another, up there? 
 It seems so hard to lose one's friends for ever." 
 
 And the girl looked despairingly up into the great 
 blue vault above them, wherein even the greatest of 
 the stars are but as golden motes. 
 
 " Yes, little sister," answered Ned seriously. " I don't 
 think that such as you will have much difficulty in 
 finding their way up there." 
 
 After this the two were silent for some time, stand- 
 ing on a rise above Antler, looking out upon the deepen- 
 ing gloom of the evening, Ned's heart very full of 
 tenderness towards the little woman to whom he 
 owed so much. 
 
 It would have been so easy, Ned could not help 
 thinking, to put his arm round her and comfort her; 
 but then, would that be a good thing for either of 
 them? The world was all before them, and the world 
 was not all Cariboo. 
 
 " Come, Lilla," he said at last, " this won't do. The 
 night air is chilling you. You must run back now. 
 What would the boys say if their little favourite came 
 back without her smile? By George, they lyould give 
 me a short shrift if they thought that it was my 
 fault." 
 
 "The boys! Ach, what do the boys care? All 
 women can laugh, and dance, and sing. One woman is 
 all the same to them as another." 
 
 Well as Ned knew his little companion, he had 
 never seen her in this mood before, and his face betrayed 
 the wonder which her bitterness awoke in him. 
 
 A woman's eyes are quick, even in her trouble, to 
 note the effect of her words upon anyone she cares for, 
 so that Lilla saw the expression in Ned's face, and tried 
 hard to rally her courage and laugh her tears away. 
 
 \-\ 
 
«« GOOD-BYE, LILLA.' 
 
 183 
 
 All 
 
 \\ 
 
 After her fashion the poor little hurdy girl was as 
 proud as any titled dame on earth, and since Ned had 
 not said that he loved her, she would try hard to keep 
 her own pitiful little secret to herself. 
 
 " Don't look like that, Ned. Don't you know when 
 I am acting. But, seriously, I am cross to-night. I 
 wanted my gold, and I wanted to keep my play-fellow 
 too. We have been such good friends — haven't we, 
 Ned?" 
 
 It was no good. In spite of her that treacherous 
 voice of hers would falter and break in a way quite 
 beyond her control. Flight seemed to her the only 
 chance. 
 
 " Ach well, this is folly," she said. " Auf wieder- 
 sehen, my friend/' and she held out to him both her 
 hands. 
 
 It was a dead still evening, and just at that moment 
 the horn of the pale young moon came up over the 
 fringe of dark pine-trees and lit up Lilla's sweet face, 
 finding in it a grace and purity of outline which the 
 daylight overlooked. But even the moonlight could add 
 nothing to the tenderness of those honest blue eyes, 
 which had grown so dim and misty in the last few 
 minutes, or to the sweetness of that tender mouth, 
 whose lips were so pitfully unsteady now. 
 
 " Auf wiederseJien " Ned repeated after her. " Auf 
 wiederaehen, Lilla, — we shall meet again." 
 
 For a while he stood irresolute. What did Shrop- 
 shire or all the world indeed matter to him? he asked 
 himself, and in another moment he might have spoken 
 words which would surely have marred his own life 
 and not made hers one whit happier. 
 
 Luckily just then a wild laugh broke the silence 
 and recalled Ned to himself. It was only the owl 
 
 ii 
 

 
 184 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO I" 
 
 who laughed, but it sufficed The dangerous charm of 
 the silence was broken, and pressing the girl's hand to 
 his lips he dashed away up the trail. 
 
 Steve Chance and Plion had made nearly four miles 
 and begun to pitch camp whilst he was getting that map. 
 
 \j 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 THE ACCURSED RIVER. 
 
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 THIS world is a world of contrasts, in which laughter 
 and tears, darkness and light, unite to make the 
 varied pattern of our lives. When Ned Corbett left 
 Lilla standing with tears which would not be denied 
 upon her white cheeks, he felt as if he should never 
 laugh again, and the ball in his throat rose as if it 
 would choke him. In spite of the pace at which he 
 strode through the moonlit forest aisles, his thoughts 
 dwelt persistently upon the girl he had left behind 
 him, or if they wandered at all from her, it was only 
 to remind him of that snow-covered camp in the forest, 
 at which he had taken his last farewell of that other 
 true friend of his. And yet half an hour after he had 
 wrung poor Lilla's hands m parting, Ned Corbett 
 stood watching his comrades, his sides aching with 
 suppressed laughter. 
 
 Phon's voice was the first sound to warn Ned that 
 he had almost reached the camp, but Phon and Steve 
 were both far too absorbed in the problem before them 
 to notice his approach. 
 
 "You sure you no savey tie 'um hitch?" asked the 
 Chinaman, who was standing with his hand upon the 
 
THE AC0UR8ED RIVER. 
 
 185 
 
 Ive 
 le 
 
 / 
 
 5> 
 
 . 
 
 pack-ropes, whilst Chance held the cayuse by the 
 head. 
 
 " No, Phon, I no savey. You savey all right, don't 
 you?" 
 
 " I Havey one side," replied the Chinaman. " S'pose 
 the ole man throw the lopes, I catch 'uin and fix 'um, 
 but I no savey throw 'uin lopes." 
 
 " What the devil are we to do then?" asked Chance, 
 looking helplessly at the pack and its mysterious 
 arrangement of ropes. "If the old man does not 
 overtake us to-night we can't start before he gets here 
 to-morrow morning. I wonder what the deuce is 
 keeping him?" 
 
 Phon gave a grunt of contempt at his white com- 
 panion's want of intelligence. He had a way of looking 
 upon Steve as somewhat of an ignoramus. 
 
 " What keep the ole man ? You halo comtax any- 
 thing. Chance. Young woman keep him of course. 
 Young woman always keep ole man long time, all 
 same China. You bet I savey." 
 
 " You bet you are a jolly saucy heathen, who wants 
 kicking badly," laughed Steve. " But say, if Corbett 
 does not come along, what are you going to do with 
 the packs?" 
 
 " I fix 'um, you see," replied Phon, suddenly bright- 
 ening again and taking the pony by the head. 
 
 " Now then, you hold him there — hold him tight He 
 heap bad cayuse;" ana Phon handed the lead-rope to 
 Chance, whilst he himself swarmed nimbly up a bull- 
 pine under which the pony now stood. A few feet 
 from the ground (say seven or eight) a bare limb pro- 
 jected over the trail, from which the Chinaman could 
 just manage to reach the top of the packs, so as to tie 
 them firmly to the bough upon which he stood. 
 
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 Mi 
 
 186 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO 1' 
 
 This done he descended again from his perch, hobbled 
 the pack animal, and stood back to survey his work. 
 
 He had tied up the pony's legs, and tied him up by 
 his packs to a bull-pine. Things looked fairly safe, 
 but Phon was not content. "You hold him tight!" he 
 sung out; " s'pose he go now he smash everything." A 
 minute later Phon had undone the cinch and set the 
 pack-saddle and its load free from the pony's back, 
 and then picking up a big stake he hit the unfortunate 
 cayuse a hearty good thump over the quarters, and 
 bade him "Git, you siwash!" 
 
 The result was funny. A general separation ensued, 
 in which — thanks to a pair of active heels — (horse's) a 
 little blue bundle of Chinese manufacture went in one 
 direction, a hobbled cayuse went jumping away like a 
 lame kangaroo in another, while the pack swung in all 
 the mystery of its diamond hitch intact upon the 
 bough of the bull-pine. 
 
 It was a quaint method of off-saddling a pack-pony, 
 but as Phon explained when he had picked himself up 
 again, it saved the trouble of fixing the packs next 
 day. 
 
 But such scenes as these are of more interest to 
 those to whom packing is a part of their daily toils 
 than to the average Englishman. The ordinary traveller 
 puts his luggage in the van, or has it put in for him, 
 and glides over his journey at the rate of forty miles 
 an hour without even seeing, very often, what kind of 
 country he is passing through. 
 
 It is quite impossible to travel quite as fast as this 
 through Cariboo even on paper; but I will make the 
 journey as short as I can, though for Phon and his friends 
 itwas weary work at first, with a pack-horse which would 
 not be driven and could not be led. When the ordinary 
 
 ( 
 
THE ACCURSED RIVER. 
 
 187 
 
 
 ' 
 
 lead-rope had been tried and found useless, Phon slipped 
 a clove-hitch round the brute's lower jaw, after whii h 
 he and Corbett together led, throwing all their weight 
 upon the rope and pulling for all they were worth. It 
 seemed as if this must move even a mule; but its 
 principal effect upon the " stud " was to make him sit 
 down upon his quarters in regular tug-of-wa- fashion, 
 rolling his eyes hideously, and squealing with rage. 
 The application of motive power (by means of a thick 
 stick) to his other end only elicited a display of heels, 
 which whizzed and shot about Steve's ears until he 
 determined to "quit driving." 
 
 After this the steed proceeded some distance of his 
 own accord, and flattering terms were showered upon 
 him. 
 
 "After all he only wanted humouring," Ned said; 
 " horses were just alike all the world over. Kindness 
 coupled with quiet resolution was all that was neces- 
 sary for the management of the most obstinate brute 
 on earth." 
 
 So spoke Corbett, after the manner of Englishmen, 
 and the " stud" poked out his under lip and showed 
 the whites of his eyes. He knew better than that, and 
 for some time past had had his eye upon a gently 
 sloping bank covered with young pines and some dead- 
 fall. As he reached this he tucked in his tail, bucked 
 to see if he could get his pack off, and failing in that 
 let go with both heels at the man behind him, and 
 then rolled over and over down the bank until he 
 stuck fast amongst the fallen timber, where he lay 
 contentedly nibbling the weeds, whilst his owners took 
 off his packs and made other arrangements for his 
 comfort, without which he pretended that it was abso- 
 lutely impossible for him to get up again. 
 
 i 
 
!.l 
 
 ill 
 
 ff h 
 
 188 
 
 "OOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO I" 
 
 This sort of thing soon becomes monotonous, and 
 our amateur prospectors found that though they were 
 doing a good deal of hard work they were not making 
 two miles an hour. Luckily for all concerned the 
 "stud" died young, departing from this life on the 
 third day out from Antler, a victim to the evil effects 
 of about a truss of poison weed which he had picked 
 up in his frequent intervals for rest by the roadside. 
 
 It was with a sigh of sincere relief that Corbett and 
 Steve and Phon portioned out the pack among them, 
 and said adieu to their dead cayuse. Whilst he lived 
 they felt that they could not leave behind them an 
 animal for which they had paid a hundred dollars, but 
 now that he was dead they were free from such scruples, 
 and proceeded upon their jovimey at a considerably 
 increased rate of speed. 
 
 Flower-time was past in Cariboo, and the whole 
 forest was full of fruit. Upon every stony knoll, where 
 the sun's rays were reflected from white boulders or 
 charred black stumps, there grew innumerable dwarf 
 raspberry canes, bearing more fruit than leaves. By 
 the side of the trail the broad-leaved salmon-berry 
 held up its fruit of crimson velvet, just high enough 
 for a man to pluck it without stooping, and every bush 
 which Steve and Ned passed was loaded either with 
 the purple of the huckle-berry or the clear coral red of 
 the bitter soap-berry. Best of all berries to Ned's mind 
 was that of a little creeper, the fruit of which resembled 
 a small huckle-berry, and reminded the thirsty palate 
 of the combined flavours of a pine-apple and a Ribston 
 pippin. 
 
 Altogether, what with the fool-hens and the grouse 
 (which were too careful of their young to care properly 
 for themselves) and the berries, it was evident to Ned 
 
THE ACCURSED RIVSIL 
 
 189 
 
 on 
 
 ed 
 
 that no man need starve in the forests of Carihoo in 
 early autumn; but there were broad tracks through 
 the long grass and traces amongst the ruined bushes 
 of another danger to man's life every bit as real and as 
 terrible as the danger of starvation. The fruit season 
 is also the bear season, and the long sharp claw -marks 
 in front of the track told Corbet t that the bears were 
 not all black which used the trail at night and rustled 
 in the dense bush by day. Though they ne • had the 
 luck to meet one, Ned and Steve had their eyes 'skinned 
 and their rifles loaded for grizzly every day until they 
 issued from the forest on to the bare kuis above the 
 Frazer. 
 
 As they could not get a canoe at Soda Creek they 
 had lo tramp down stream to Chimney Creek, where a 
 few Chinamen were washing for gold. These men, in 
 return for some trifling gift of stores, took the party 
 across the river, and so worked upon the mind of their 
 fellow-countryman with stories of the great "finds" 
 up stream of which they had heard that his eyes began 
 to glisten with the same feverish light which had filled 
 them at Lillooet. 
 
 The Frazer had a peculiar fascination for Phon, 
 and no wonder, for there is something about this 
 river unlike all other rivers — something which it 
 owes neither to its size nor its beauty. The Frazer 
 looks like a river of hell, if hell has rivers. From 
 where Ned Corbett stood, high up above the right 
 bank, he could get glimpses of the river's course for 
 some miles. Everywhere the scene was the same, a 
 yellow turbid flood, surging savagely along through a 
 deep gully between precipitous mud bluffs, whose sides 
 stained here and there with metallic colours — vivid 
 crimson and bright yellow, made them look as if they 
 
 , I 
 
 • I 
 
 I 
 
 . s 
 
,1 I 
 
 190 
 
 »'GOLi», GOLD IN CARIBOO I" 
 
 had been poured liot and hisflinj^ from nature's cauldron, 
 and that so recently that they had not yet lost the 
 colours of their molten state. The rollinjaf years arc 
 kind to most things, beautifying them with the soft 
 tints of age or veiling them with gracious foliage, but 
 the banks of the Frazer still look raw and crude; the 
 gentler things of earth will have nothing to do with 
 the accursed river, in which millions of struggling 
 salmon rot and die, while beside its waters little will 
 grow except the bitter sage bush and the prickly pear. 
 
 When Corbctt and Chance reached Chimney Creek 
 the fall run of salmon was at its height, and added, if 
 possible, to the weird ugliness of the river. From 
 mid-stream to either bank every inch of its surface 
 was broken by the dorsal fins or broad tails of the 
 travelling fish, while in the back waters, and under 
 shelter of projecting rocks, they lay in such thousands 
 that you could see the black wriggling mass from a 
 point several hundred yards away. From the shingle 
 down below you could if you chose kill salmon with 
 stones, or catch them with your hands, but you could 
 not walk \vithout stepping on their putrefying bodies, 
 which while they still lived and swam took the vivid 
 crimson or sickly yellow of the Frazer's banks. They 
 looked (these lean leprous fiah) as if they had swallowed 
 the yellow poison of the river, and it was burning 
 their bodies alive. 
 
 And yet like the men their betters they still 
 struggled up and up, reckless of all the dangers, 
 though out of every hundred which went up the 
 Frazer not three would ever find their way back again 
 to the strong wholesome silvery sea. The glutted 
 eagles watched for them, the bears preyed upon 
 them, Indians speared them; they were too weak 
 
 % 
 
THE ACOURSED RIVER. 
 
 191 
 
 again 
 utted 
 upon 
 weak 
 
 almost to swim; their bodies were rottinpf whilst tlioy 
 still lived, and yet they swam on, though thoir stniiigth 
 was spent and they rolled feohly in a flood through 
 which, only a few months earlier, they wonid liave 
 shot straight and strong as arrows fre.sh looH<;d from 
 the bow. Gold and desolation and death, and a river 
 that roared and rattled as if playing with dead iiuti's 
 bones; a brittle land, where the banks fell in antl the 
 ruined pines lay, still living, but with their heads 
 down and their roots turned up to the buiTiing sky; 
 a land without flowers, jaundiced with gold and dry 
 with desire for the fairer things of earth — this is 
 what Corbett saw, and seeing, he turned away with a 
 shudder. 
 
 "My God!" he said, "gold should grow there; nothing 
 else will; even the fish rot in that hell broth!" 
 
 "You aren't polite to Father Frazer, Ned. So I 
 will propitiate him;" and the Yankee turned to the 
 yellow river, and holding high a silver dollar he cried, 
 " See here, old river, Steve Chance of N'York is doad 
 broke except for this, and this he gives to you. Take 
 his all as an ottering. The future he trusts to you." 
 
 And so naying Steve sent his last coin spinning out 
 into the gully, where for u moment it glittered and 
 then sunk and was lost, swallowed up in the waves of 
 the great river, which holds in her bed more wealth 
 than has ever been won from nature by the greed and 
 energy of man« 
 
 I 
 
 ;f • 
 

 '■' ( 
 
 : ]i 'I 
 
 m 
 
 192 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO I" 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 PETE S CREEK 
 
 FOR an hour Steve and Ned toiled steadily up the 
 yellow banks, bluff rising above bluff and bench 
 above bench, and all steep and all crumbling to the tread. 
 The banks of the Frazer may possess the charm of 
 picturesqueness of a certain kind for the tourist to 
 whom time is no object, and for whom others work and 
 carry the packs, but they were hateful as the tread- 
 mill and a very path of thorns to the men who toiled 
 up them carrying a month's provisions on their backs, 
 and wearing worn-out mocassins upon their swollen, 
 bleeding feet. It was with a sigh of heartfelt thank 
 fulness that Corbett and Chance topped the last bench, 
 and looked away to the west over the undulating 
 forest plateau of Chilcotin. Men know Chilcotin now, 
 or partly know it, as the finest ranching country west 
 of Calgary, but in the days of which I am writing it was 
 very little known, and Steve and his friends looked 
 upon the long reaches and prairies of yellow sun-dried 
 grass, dotted here and there with patches of pine 
 forest, as sailors might look upon the coast of some 
 untrodden island. To Steve and Phon this yellow 
 table-land was the region of fairy gold. It was some- 
 where here that the yellow stuff which all men love 
 lay waiting for man to find it. Surely it was some- 
 thing more than the common everyday sun which 
 made those Chilcotin uplands so wondrously golden ! 
 So thouglit Steve and Phon. 
 
 To Ned all was different. As far as the eye could 
 see a thousand trails led across the bluffs, gradu- 
 
pete's creek. 
 
 193 
 
 up the 
 bench 
 3 tread, 
 arm of 
 irist to 
 )rk and 
 tread- 
 3 toiled 
 • backs, 
 iwoUen, 
 thank 
 i bench, 
 ulating 
 in now, 
 ry west 
 Tit was 
 looked 
 n-dried 
 )f pine 
 ^f some 
 yellow 
 some- 
 n love 
 some- 
 which 
 folden ! 
 
 could 
 rradu- 
 
 ally fading away in the distance. They were but 
 cattle trails — the trails of the wild cattle of those hills 
 — blacktail deer and bighorn sheep, but to Ned they 
 were paths along which the feet of murder had gone, 
 and his eye rested on the dark islands of pine, as if he 
 suspected that the man he sought lurked in their 
 shadow. 
 
 "Well, Ned, which is the way? Let's look at the 
 map," said Chance. 
 
 Ned produced the map, and together the two men 
 bent over it. 
 
 "The trail should run south-west from the top of 
 this ridge, until we strike what old Pete calls here a 
 ' good-sized chunk of a crik.* That is our first land- 
 mark. 'Bear south-west from the big red bluff,' he 
 says — and there's the bluff," and Ned pointed to a big 
 red buttress of mud upon the further bank of the 
 Frazer. 
 
 " That's so, Ned, but I can see another big red bluff, 
 and there are any number of trails leading more or less 
 south-west," replied Chance. 
 
 " Well, let's take the biggest," suggested Corbett, and 
 no one having any better plan to propose, his advice 
 was taken. 
 
 For some time all went well. The trail was plain 
 enough for a blind man to follow, and the walking, 
 after that which they had experienced in the forest 
 and along the banks of the Frazer, was almost a plea- 
 sure ''^ them. Unfortunately there were a few draw- 
 backs lyj the pleasures of travel even in Chilcotin. 
 In Cariboo and up the Frazer the Indians had already 
 learnt that the white man's rifle could kill nearly as 
 far as a man could see, and they respected the white 
 men, or feared them, which did as well. But in Chil- 
 '796) IT 
 
 ! I 
 
 ; 
 
 \ 
 
 . 
 
194 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO !" 
 
 cotin the red men were untamed (they are less tamed 
 still, probably, than any Indians on the Pacific coast), 
 and it was necessary for Ned and his friends to take care 
 lest they should blunder unasked into some hunter's 
 camp. 
 
 This upon the evening of their first day upon 
 these table-lands they very nearly did, but as luck 
 would have it, they saw the thin column of blue smoke 
 winding up from a clump of pines just in time, and 
 slunk away into the bed of Pete's " good-sized chunk of 
 a crik," where they lay without a fire until the dawn 
 of the next day. 
 
 Luckily for them the nights were still fairly warm 
 as high-land nights go, but after sundown the air is 
 always fresh upon these high tablelands, and no one 
 was sorry when the day brok \ The expedition, Steve 
 Chance opined, had ceased to be "a picnic." Food was 
 becoming somewhat scarce, and already Ned in his 
 capacity of leader had put them upon rations of one 
 tin cupful of flour per diem, two rashers of bacon, and 
 a little tea. A cupful of flour means aboi : four good- 
 sized slices of bread, and although a man can live very 
 well upon two slices of bread for breakfast and two at 
 dinner, with a rasher of bacon and a little weak tea at 
 each meal, and nothing between meals except twelve 
 hours' hard work in the open air, he ought not to be 
 sneered at if he feels a craving for some little luxury 
 in the way of sugar or butter, or even another slice of 
 bread. 
 
 Every now and then, it is true, something fell to one 
 of the rifles; but they dared not shoot much for fear 
 of attracting the attention of wandering Indians, and 
 besides it is astonishing how little game men see upon 
 the mPTch. You can march or hunt, but it is difficult 
 
 
pete's creek. 
 
 196 
 
 tamed 
 coast), 
 te care 
 iinter's 
 
 upon 
 ,s luck 
 smoke 
 le, and 
 unk of 
 > dawn 
 
 ^ warm 
 B air is 
 no one 
 I, Steve 
 >od was 
 1 in his 
 of one 
 on, and 
 r good- 
 ve very 
 two at 
 ;: tea at 
 twelve 
 t to be 
 luxury 
 slice of 
 
 to one 
 [or fear 
 [ns, and 
 pe upon 
 lifficult 
 
 to both march and hunt successfully at the same time. 
 On the third day upon the Chilcotin table-lands, the 
 trail which the prospectors had been following " played 
 out." For four or five miles it had grown fainter and 
 fainter, and now the party stood out in the middle of 
 a great sea of sunburnt grass, with no road before them 
 and no land-marks to guide them. 
 
 " I'll tell you what it is, Steve, we have rather made 
 a mess of this journey. It seems to me that unless 
 there is something wrong with the sun we have been 
 bearing too much to the west. It looks as if we were 
 going a point to the north of west, instead of south- 
 west, as we intended to do," said Ned after a careful 
 survey of their position. 
 
 " Likely enough," assented his companion. " I don't 
 see how a fellow is to keep his course amongst all 
 these ups and downs. Besides, we followed the trail." 
 
 " Yes, and the trail has played out. I expect it was 
 only a watering trail, though it is funny that it seems 
 to start out of the middle of nowhere. Let's steer by 
 the sun and go nearly due south. We must hit off the 
 Chilcotin in that way." 
 
 " What, the Chilcotin river? Yes, that seems a good 
 idea. Lead on, MacDufF!" 
 
 So it was that with his companion's assent Ned 
 tu^i^oJ nearly south, and hour after hour strode on in 
 silence over the yellow downs, until the sun had sank 
 below the horizon, 
 
 "It's time to camp, Ned," cried Steve, who had 
 fallen a good deal behind his companions; "and that is 
 rather a snug-looking hollow on our left. We should 
 be sheltered from that beastly cold night-wind in 
 there. What do you say?" 
 
 " All right, if you must stop," replied Ned, looking 
 
 I' 
 
 r 
 

 
 196 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO I" 
 
 forward regretfully. "But ought wo not to make 
 another mile or two before we camp?" 
 
 "You can do what you please, but I cain't crawl 
 another yard, and don't mean to try to. Bring your- 
 self to an anchor, Ned, and let's have grub." 
 
 Of course Ned yielded. It was no good going on 
 alone. 
 
 "Say, Ned," cried Steve a few minutes later, "we 
 aren't the first to camp here. Look at this." 
 
 "This" was the carcase of a mule-deer, which lay 
 in the hollow in which Steve wanted to camp. 
 
 " Well, old chap, that spoils your hollow, I'm afraid. 
 It is too high to be pleasant as a bed-fellow. By Jove, 
 look here!" and stooping, Ned picked up the empty 
 shell of a Winchester cartridge. 
 
 " The fellow who killed that deer has camped right 
 alongside his kill," remarked Steve. "See here, he has 
 cut oft* a joint to carry away with him;" and Steve 
 pointed to where a whole quarter had evidently been 
 neatly taken oft" with a knife. " It's some Indian, I 
 reckon, out hunting." ' 
 
 "No, that is no Indian's work, Steve. An Indian 
 would have cleaned his beast, and even if he did not 
 mean to come back for the meat he would have severed 
 the joints and laid them neatly side by side. It is 
 almost a part of his religion to treat what he kills 
 with some show of respect. The man who slept here 
 was a white man." 
 
 " Cruickshank?" suggested Steve. 
 
 "Yes, I think so," replied Ned quietly. "But he 
 must have been here some weeks ago." 
 
 "Great Scott! then we'll get the brute yet." 
 
 " We may, but he has a long start of us, and the grub 
 is getting very light to carry;" and Ned lifted his little 
 
 
pete's creek. 
 
 197 
 
 grub 
 little 
 
 pack and weighed it thoughtfully. And Ned was 
 right, the man had a long start of them. 
 
 From the evening upon which they found the 
 ungralloched stag to the end of the month Corl)(3tt and 
 his friends wandered about day after day looking for 
 Pete's Creek or Cruickshank, but found neither. They 
 had reached the Chilcotin of course, and on its banks 
 had been lucky enough to kill one of a band of sheep, 
 upon which they lived for some days, but they could 
 find no traces of that stream which, according to the old 
 miner, flowed over a bed of gold into the river. Tliey 
 had washed pansful of dirt from a score of good- 
 sized streams, and Phon had let no rill pass him without 
 peering into it and examining a little of the gravel 
 over which its waters ran, but so far the gold-seekers 
 had not found anything which seemed likely to pay 
 even moderate daily wages. 
 
 Neither had they found anywhere traces of Cruick 
 shank. Between the dead stag and the Chilcotin they 
 had come across two or three camps, probably the 
 camps of the man who had killed that stag, but even 
 Corbett began to doubt if the man could be a white 
 man. Whoever he was he had worn moccasins, had 
 had but one pack animal with him, and there were no 
 scraps of paper, or similar trifles, ever left about the 
 camps to show that he had carried with him any of the 
 scanty luxuries which even miners sometimes indulge 
 in. It was odd that he left no Indian message in his 
 old camps — no wooden pegs driven in by the dead 
 camp-fire, with their heads bent the way he was 
 going. 
 
 But this proved nothing. He might be a white or 
 he might be an Indian. In either case it looked as if, 
 after hunting on the left bank of the Chilcotin, he had 
 
 t 1 
 
 
 
 I 
 
j-irim 
 
 198 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO f 
 
 m 
 
 crossed to the other bank as if making for Empire 
 Valley, and, knowing as much as he knew about the 
 position of Pete's Creek, Cruickshank would hardly 
 have been likely to leave the left bank. Ned began to 
 fear that his quest was as hopeless as Steve's. 
 
 It was a chill, dark evening, with the first menace 
 ot winter in the sky, when Ned announced that the 
 grub would not hold out more than another week. 
 
 "We have made it go as far as possible, and of 
 course if we kill anything we can live on meat 
 'straight* again for a time, but I think, Steve, we 
 have hunted this country pretty well for Pete's Creek, 
 and we may as well give it up," said Ned. 
 
 " And how about Cruickshank ? Do you think he 
 has cleared out, or do you think he has never been 
 here?" 
 
 " I don't know what to think, but I expect we shall 
 come across old Rampike on the Frazer, and I shall 
 stop and hunt with him." 
 
 That word "hunt" has an ugly sound when the 
 thing to be hunted is a man like yourself, and Steve 
 looked curiously into Ned's face. Would he never get 
 tired and give up the chase, this quiet man who looked 
 as if he had no malice in his nature, and yet stuck to 
 his prey with the patience of a wolf? 
 
 " What do you propose, Ned? Fix things your own 
 way. I am sick of dry bread and sugarless tea, any- 
 way." 
 
 Corbett laughed. He thought to himself that had 
 he been as keen after the gold as Steve had been, he 
 would hardly have remembered that the tea had no 
 sugar in it. Phon, to his mind, was a much better 
 stamp of gold-seeker than his volatile Yankee friend. 
 
 " All right! If you leave it to me, I propose that we 
 
pste's greek. 
 
 199 
 
 go down to the Frazer, following the Chilcotin to its 
 mouth, and prospecting the sources of all these little 
 streams as we go. You see, so far we have only been 
 low down near the bed of the Chilcotin. What I 
 propose to do now, is to keep along the divide where 
 the streams rise. At any rate we shall see more game 
 up there than down here." 
 
 " Naivitka and hyaa sloosh, as the siwashes say. 
 Any blessed thing you please, Ned, only let us get out 
 of this before we starve. What do you say, Phon?" 
 
 " Very good, not go yet," replied the Chinaman. 
 " S'pose not find gold down low, find him high up." 
 
 " Phon sticks to his guns better than you do, Steve,** 
 remarked Corbett. 
 
 "I daresay. A herring-gutted Chinaman may be 
 able to live on air. I cain't." 
 
 But the morrow brought Phon the reward of his 
 faith, and twenty-four hours from the time when 
 Steve Chance had asked only to be allowed to " get out 
 of the confounded country by the shortest road," he 
 would not have left it for ten thousand dollars 
 
 This was how it happened. 
 
 About mid-day, the sun being unusually hot, a halt 
 had been called to smoke the mid-day pipe and rest 
 legs wearied with the steep climb from the river bed 
 to the crest of the divide. 
 
 "Don't you think, Ned, we might be allowed a 
 square inch of damper for lunch to-day? We are 
 going back now, and I am starving," said Steve. 
 
 "All right. Half a damper among the three if 
 you like, but not a mouthful more." 
 
 Even this was more than he had hoped for, so Steve 
 chewed the heavy damp morsel carefully; not that he 
 distrusted the powers of his digestion, but because he 
 
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 200 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO 1' 
 
 was anxious to make the most of eveiy crumb of his 
 scanty repast. 
 
 Just below where the three were sitting grew a 
 patch of orange-coloured Indian pinks. "I guess 
 there's water not far from those flowers," remarked 
 Steve, " and I want a drink badly before I light my 
 pipe." 
 
 Dry bread is apt to stick in a man's gullet however 
 hungry he may be, so that the three went down 
 together, and found that, as Steve suspected, the pinks 
 were growing in a damp spot, from which oozed a tiny 
 rill, which, as they followed it, grew and grew until 
 the rapidity of its growth roused their curiosity, and 
 led them on long after they had found the drinking- 
 place they sought. 
 
 All at once it seemed as if the stream had been 
 augmented by water from some subterranean source, 
 for its volume grew at a bound from that of a rill to 
 that of a good-sized mountain stream, which gurgled 
 noisily through the mosses for a few hundred yards, 
 and then plunged through a cleft in the rocks to re- 
 appear, three or four hundred feet below, a dark rapid 
 mountain-torrent, running between walls of wet black 
 rock. 
 
 "It is a queer-looking place, isn't it, Steve? Any 
 fellow might go all over this country and miss seeing 
 that creek. I wonder if it is worth while climbing 
 down that place to prospect it?" 
 
 But whilst the strongest stood doubting, the weakest 
 of the party had scrambled like a cat over the rocks, 
 and could now be seen on his knees by the brink of the 
 dark waters, washing as he had never washed before. 
 At last the little blue figure sprang to its feet, and 
 waving its arms wildly, yelled: 
 
 I 
 V 
 
PETE S CREEK. 
 
 201 
 
 iing 
 
 the 
 
 " Chicamon ! chicamon ! Me find hira. Hydu Chica- 
 mon!" (anglice heaps of money). 
 
 Diphtheria, cholera, the black death itself, rapid 
 though they are in their spread, and appalling though 
 they are in their strength, are sluggish and weak com- 
 pared to the gold fever. In one moment, at that cry 
 of "chicamon! chicamon!" (money! money!), Chance 
 had recovered from his fatigue, Corbett had awakened 
 from his dreams of vengeance, and both together were 
 scrambling recklessly down the rocks to the pool, 
 beside which Phon was again kneeling, washing the 
 golden dirt. 
 
 In spite of his native phlegm and his professed dis- 
 regard for gold, Ned Corbett actually jostled his 
 companions in his eagerness to get to the water; and 
 though his pet pipe dropped from his mouth and broke 
 into a hundred pieces, he never seemed to know what 
 had happened to him. 
 
 When Phon washed his first panful of dirt in Pete's 
 Creek it was broad noon; when Ned Corbett straightened 
 his back with a sigh and came back for a moment 
 almost to his senses, it was too dark to see the glitter- 
 ing specks in their pans any longer. 
 
 From noon to dusk they had toiled like galley slaves, 
 without a thought of time, or fatigue, or hunger, and 
 yet two of these were weak, tired men, and the third, 
 under ordinary circumstances, really had quite a beau- 
 tiful contempt for the sordid dollar. 
 
 When Corbett looked at the gleaming yellow stuff", 
 and realized what power it had suddenly exerted over 
 him, he actually felt afraid of it. There was something 
 uncanny about it. But there was no longer any doubt 
 about Pete's Creek. They had struck it this time, and 
 no mistake; and if there was much "dirt" like that 
 
 I- 
 
 t 
 
 \P 
 
 4 - 
 
 ilni 
 
 . i-: 
 
 
 i 
 
lit I 
 
 202 
 
 "QOLD, OOLD IN CARIBOO 1" 
 
 which they had been washing since noon, a few months 
 of steady work would make all three rich men for life. 
 In most places which they had seen, the gold had been 
 found in dust: here it was in flakes and scales, as big 
 as the scales upon the back of a chub. In most places 
 a return of a few cents to the pan would have been 
 considered "good enough:" here the return was not in 
 cents but in dollars, and yet even now what was this 
 which Phon the Chinaman was saying, his features 
 working as if he were going into an epileptic fit? 
 
 "This nothing, nothing at all! You wait till to- 
 mollow. Then we see gold, — heap gold not all same 
 this, but in lumps!" 
 
 And he got up and walked about, nodding his head 
 and muttering: "You bet you sweet life! Heap gold! 
 You bet you sweet life!" whilst the red firelight 
 flickered over his wizened features, and dwelt in the 
 corners of his small dark eyes, until he resembled one 
 of those quaint Chinese devils of whom he stood so 
 much in awe. 
 
 As far as Ned and his companions could calculate, 
 their first seven hours' work had yielded them some- 
 thing like a thousand dollars-worth of pure gold; and 
 already Ned Corbett almost regretted the price he 
 had paid for it, as he listened to the eager, crazy chatter 
 of his companions, and tried in vain to put together 
 the good old pipe which he had shattered in his rush 
 for that yellow metal, which gleamed evilly, so Ned 
 thought, from the tin pannikin upon Chance's knee. 
 
 There was another thing which Corbett could not 
 forget. It was true that they had found Pete's Creek 
 and the gold, but there was no trace of Cruickshank. 
 
GOLD BT THE GALLON) 
 
 20S 
 
 CHAPTER XXIL 
 
 GOLD BY THE GALLON ! 
 
 4 
 
 AFTER the finding of Pete's Creek there was no 
 more talk of returning to the Frazer. In Cor- 
 bett's camp the reign of gold had begun, so that no 
 man spoke of anything or thought of anything but 
 the yellow metal. Gold was a god to all the three of 
 them, and Phon and Chance and Corbett alike bowed 
 their backs and worshipped, grovelling on their knees 
 and toiling with pick and pan and roc^ er a,ll the day 
 long. Only Corbett rebelled at all against the tyranny 
 of the strange god, and he rebelled in thought only. 
 Each day, in his heart, he swore should be the last 
 which he would waste down by the creek, and yet 
 every fresh dawn found him at his place with the 
 others. Luckily for the gold-Seekers, Pete's Creek was 
 rich in other things besides mere gold. Trout abounded 
 in the water, and huckle-berries grew thick some little 
 distance down stream; and in addition to these good 
 things Corbett soon discovered that the trails which 
 ran thread-like over the face of the cliffs above Pete's 
 Creek owed their existence to the feet of generations 
 upon generations of white goats — staid stolid brutes, 
 with humps upon their backs, little black horns upon 
 their heads, wide frills to their hairy pantaloons, and 
 beards worn as seafaring men used to wear them, all 
 round their chins and cheeks. 
 
 These were the aborigines of Pete's Creek, and were 
 if anything more confi. ing and more easily killed than 
 the trout. Every meaning at early dawn the gold- 
 seekers saw the goats clambering slowly back to the 
 
 it 
 
 : 1; 
 
 
204 
 
 <*GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO I' 
 
 lairs, in which they hid (luring the daytime, and just 
 after dark the rattling .stones told tliom that their noigli- 
 bours were on tlu/ir way down again to the lowlands. 
 Whenovor Ned wanted one for the pot, the stalk was a 
 very siniple thin<j^, the goat standing looking at the ap- 
 proaching gunner with atony indifference, until a bullet 
 rolled him over. Food was plentiful enough about the 
 creek, and Ned was able to lay aside what little flour 
 remained, keeping it until the time came when winter 
 should make a move to some lower camping ground 
 an absolute necessity. 
 
 So then the three had nothing to do but to gather 
 up the gold-dust, and add pile to pile and bag to bag 
 of the precious metal. 
 
 All worked with energy, but no one with such tire- 
 less patience, such feverish vigour, as the little China- 
 man. Compared to him Chance was a sluggard, and 
 even Corbett's strength was no match for the ceaseless 
 activity of this withered, yellow little mortal, whose 
 bones stared through his skin, and whose eyes seemed 
 to be burning away their sockets. 
 
 The stars tis they faded in the morning sky saw 
 Phon come down to work; the sun at mid-day beat 
 upon his head but could not drive him away from his 
 ixxiker; and night found him discontented because the 
 hours in which man can labour are so few and so short. 
 As long as Phon could see the " colours" in his pan he 
 stuck to his work, and when he could see no longer 
 he canned his treasure to camp and kept it within 
 reach of him, and if possible under the protection of 
 Ned and Ned's rifle. 
 
 Even in the night season this slave of gold took no 
 rest In Victoria in old days the devils used to come 
 to him, and tell him all manner of things — when to 
 
md just 
 r neigh - 
 iwIjukIs. 
 k was n 
 the ap- 
 a bullet 
 )out the 
 tie flour 
 1 winter 
 ground 
 
 • gather 
 f to bag 
 
 ich tire- 
 China- 
 rd, and 
 aseless 
 whose 
 seemed 
 
 :y saw 
 [y beat 
 pm his 
 lise the 
 
 short. 
 
 >an he 
 
 longer 
 ithin 
 
 [ion of 
 
 >k no 
 
 come 
 
 len to 
 
 GOLD BY THE OALI/)N 
 
 20ft 
 
 
 gamble and when not to gamble, for instance; now 
 they haunted him, and filled him with fears lest some- 
 one else should fnatch his treasure from him. 
 
 In spit(3 of the absolute stillness which reigned rourul 
 the crook, Phon believed that ho was watched day and 
 night, nor could Corbott's rough rebukes or Chance's 
 chaff shako him in this belief. Twice he woke up, 
 screaming that someone w»is taking away the gold, 
 and once ho swore positively that he had seen a face 
 looking at him as he washed the rich dirt — a face which 
 peered at him from the bushes, and disappeared without 
 a sound before he could identify it. There wore no 
 tracks, so of course Phon was dreaming; but perhaps, 
 even if there had been anyone watching from the 
 place at which Phon saw the face, lie would not have 
 left a very distinct track, as the rock just there was 
 as hard and unimpressionable as adamant. 
 
 Corbett, as he watched his servant muttering to him- 
 self and glancing nervously over his shoulder at every 
 wind which stirred in the bush, felt convinced that the 
 gold had turned his brain. And yet in some things 
 Phon was sane enough. It happened that there was, in 
 a sudden bend of tho stream, a great boulder, which 
 broke the course of the water, and sent it boiling and 
 gurgling in two small streams about the boulder's base. 
 From the very first this boulder fascinated Phon. For 
 centuries it had stood in the same place, until green 
 things had grown upon it, and gray lichens had spread 
 over it. 
 
 It was a favourite resting-place for the white- 
 breasted dipper on his way up stream; the fish used 
 to lie in the shelter of it, where their struggle against 
 the water need not be so severe, or to wait for the food 
 which was washed off its piers and buttresses; and 
 
 i-^ 
 
MR 
 
 "NJ:-|-'l 
 
 206 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO !' 
 
 
 
 ; .11 
 
 i 
 
 sometimes even the deer would come and stand knee- 
 deep in the stream, to rub the velvet off their horns 
 against its angles. 
 
 But Phon the Chinaman had guessed a secret which 
 the old rock had kept for centuries — a secret which 
 neither the birds nor the fish nor the deer, nor even 
 those wise white-bearded patriarchs, the goats, had 
 ever heard a whisper of. 
 
 That rock was set in gold, and Phon knew it. 
 
 Year by year the pebbles and the gravel and disin- 
 tegrated rock were washed lower and lower down the 
 bed of the stream, and all the while the gold kept sink- 
 ing and staying, whilst the gravel and sand went on. 
 But even gold must move, however slowly, in the bed 
 of a rapid stream, and at last golden sand and flakes 
 and nuggets all came to the bend where Phon's rock 
 stood. Here the gold stopped. Gravel migh rest for 
 a while, and then rattle on again; pebbles and boulders 
 might be torn away from their anchorage under the 
 lee of the rock by the eager waters, but gold never. 
 Once there Phon knew it would stay, clinging to the 
 bottom, and even working under the rock itself. 
 Knowing this Phon looked at the rock, and greed and 
 discontent tortured him beyond endurance. He had 
 already amassed far more gold than he could possibly 
 spend upon the paltry pleasures he cared for; but he 
 loved the yellow metal for itself, not for the things it 
 can purchase, and this being so, he proceeded to match 
 his cunning against the strength of the rock. 
 
 First he gathered great piles of quick burning wood 
 from the banks and piled them upon his victim as if he 
 would offer a sacrifice to mammon, and this he set fire 
 to, bringing fresh supplies of wood as his fire burnt low. 
 After a while the rock beneath the fire grew to a white 
 
GOLD BY THE GALLON I 
 
 207 
 
 never, 
 to the 
 itself, 
 jd and 
 .e had 
 >ssibly 
 )ut he 
 [ngs it 
 Latch 
 
 wood 
 if he 
 it fire 
 It low. 
 rhite 
 
 
 heat, and then by means of a wooden trough which he 
 had made, Phon turned a stream of cold water from the 
 creek upon the place where the fire had been, and these 
 things he continued to do for many days, until at last 
 the giant yielded to the pigmy, and the great boulder, 
 which for centuries had withstood the force of the 
 stream in flood-time and the grinding ice in winter, 
 began to break up and melt away before the cunning 
 of a wizened, yellow-skinned imp from China. 
 
 About this time, and before the rock was finally split 
 up and removed, Phon suggested that it would be 
 better to try to divert the stream from its bed at some 
 point just above the rock, so that they might be able 
 to get at the gold when the boulder had been removed. 
 To do this flumes had to be made, and axes were in 
 request to hew them out. At the first mention of axes 
 Steve became uneasy. There had been two axe-heads 
 in the outfit originally, and he had been intrusted with 
 one of them, and had lost it. 
 
 " I know I had it in the last camp," he asserted. 
 
 " Then you had better go back for it; the last camp 
 is only about five hours' tramp from here. Or if you 
 think that you can't find your way to it, I will go," 
 remarked Corbett. 
 
 " I can find my way all right," replied Chance in an 
 injured tone, nettled at the implied slur upon his wood- 
 craft; "but do you think it is worth while going back 
 for it?" 
 
 " Certainly. You could no doubt nrake a hundred 
 dollars here in the time it will take you to get that 
 axe, but a hundred dollars would not buy us an axe- 
 head at Pete's Creek." 
 
 This argument being unanswerable, Steve took the 
 back track, and after being away from camp all day, 
 
 11 
 
 ) , 
 
wmmm 
 
 lii^' 
 
 208 
 
 "G0IJ5, GOLD IN CARIBOO 1" 
 
 returned about sundown with the missing axe and an 
 old buckskin glove. 
 
 "Sc/ you found the axe, I see?" was Corbett's greet- 
 ing when the two met. 
 
 "Yes, I found it; I knew to a dot where I left it. 
 But it was deuced careless to leave it anyway, wasn't 
 it ? By the wny, you did not leave anything behind 
 you in that camp, did you?" 
 
 " No, not I. I always go round camp before leaving 
 to look for things. I only wonder that I did not see 
 your axe." 
 
 " Oh, you wouldn't do that, I left it sticking in a 
 cotton-wood tree a quarter of a mile from camp. But 
 didn't you leave your 'mitts' behind?" 
 
 " No, my dear chap. I tell you I don't leave things 
 behind. Here are my mitts;" and the speaker drew 
 from his pocket a pair of buckskin gloves much frayed 
 and worn. 
 
 "Then who in thunder is the owner of this?" ex- 
 claimed Chance, holding up a single glove very similar 
 in make to those which Corbett wore. 
 
 " Your own glove, I expect, Steve, isn't it ? I haven't 
 seen you wearing any lately, and one wants them 
 pretty badly amongst these rocks. You thought that 
 you had caught me tripping, did you, my boy?" and 
 Ned laughed heartily at his companion's crest-fallen 
 appearance. 
 
 " No, Ned, this isn't mine," replied Steve seriously. 
 " See here, it would hold both my hands." 
 
 "That is odd. Where did you find it, Steve?" and 
 taking the glove in his hands Ned examined it care- 
 fully. 
 
 " You can't tell how long it has been out," he mut- 
 tered, " the chipamuks or some other little beasts have 
 
 
md an 
 greet- 
 left it. 
 wasn't 
 behind 
 
 leaving 
 not see 
 
 ig in a 
 p. But 
 
 J things 
 Br drew 
 I frayed 
 
 r ex- 
 similar 
 
 haven't 
 them 
 it that 
 ?" and 
 -fallen 
 
 iously. 
 
 r and 
 care- 
 
 mut- 
 have 
 
 GOLD BY THE GALLON! 
 
 209 
 
 gnawed the fingers; but the only wonder is that they 
 haven't destroyed it altogether. Where did you say 
 you found it?" 
 
 " About a (juarter of a mile from camp. A boar has 
 been round the camp since we wore there, and I was 
 following his trail for a bit to see what I could make 
 of it wlien I came across tliis." 
 
 " Was it a grizzly's or a black bear's track which 
 you followed?" 
 
 " I couldn't make out. The ground was hard, and 
 I'm not much good at tracking. I could hardly be sure 
 that it was a bear's track at all." 
 
 " It wasn't a man's track by any chance ? ' 
 
 " Confound it, Ned, I am not such an infernal fool 
 as you seem to think. Yesterday you suggested that 
 I couldn't find my way to the old camp, and now you 
 ask me whether I know a bear's track from a man's." 
 
 "Don't lose your temper about it, old fellow. A 
 man's track is very like a bear's, especially if the man 
 wears moccasins and the ground is at all hard. Of 
 course if you are certain that what you saw were 
 bears' tracks there's an end of it. After all, this glove 
 may have been where you found it since last summer. 
 It might have been Pete's perhaps." 
 
 And so the matter dropped and the glove was for- 
 gotten, for there were many things to occupy the atten- 
 tion of Ned and Steve in those days; and as for Phon, 
 he never even heard of the glove, being busy at the 
 time upon some engineering work in connection with 
 that great boulder of his at the bend in the stream. 
 
 For several days the Chinaman had ceased to wash 
 or dig, all his time being devoted to preparations for the 
 removal of the boulder, and at last, one morning, when 
 the gully was full of the pent smoke of his tires, he 
 
 (796) 
 
 i^ 
 
 II 
 
210 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO !" 
 
 was ready for the last act in his great work, and came 
 to Corbett and Chance for help. On the top of the 
 rock were the ashes of Phon's fires, and at its feet, 
 where once the waters ran, was dry ground, while 
 from summit to base the rock itself was split into a 
 hundred pieces, so small as to offer no serious difficul- 
 ties to the united efforts of the three men who wanted 
 to remove them. For centuries the rock had stood upon 
 a kind of shelf, from which the three men, using a pine- 
 pole as a lever, pitched one great fragment after another 
 until the whole of the rock's bed lay bare. 
 
 Then for a moment they paused, while the smoke 
 drifted about them, and the corded veins stood out 
 strangely upon their pale faces. Surely they were 
 dreaming, or their eyes were tricked by the smoke! 
 Phon had guessed that the boulder had caught and 
 held some portion of the gold which had come down 
 the mountain stream in the course of the last few cen- 
 turies, but the sight upon which he gazed now was 
 such as even he had only dreamed of when the opium 
 had possession of him body and soul. 
 
 The bed of the boulder was a bed of gold — gold in 
 fiakes and lumps and nuggets; gold in such quantities 
 that as Steve and Ned looked at it a doubt stole into 
 their minds. Surely, they thought, it cannot be for 
 this common, ugly stuff, of which there is so much, that 
 men toil and strive, live and die, and are damned! 
 
 The wet pebbles amongst which the gold lay were 
 twice as beautiful, and as Ned wiped the perspiration 
 from his brow he thought that a quart of gold would 
 be but a small price to pay for a quart of honest Bass. 
 But Phon had no such fancies. With a wild cry, like 
 the cry of a famished beast, the Chinaman threw him- 
 self into the hollow he had cleared, clawing and scratch- 
 
 
 
m hornet's nest. 
 
 211 
 
 i I 
 
 and came 
 op of the 
 t its feet, 
 nd, while 
 plit into a 
 IS difficul- 
 iio wanted 
 stood upon 
 ing a pine- 
 ier another 
 
 the smoke 
 stood out 
 they were 
 the smoke! 
 jaught and 
 come down 
 st few cen- 
 l now was 
 the opium 
 
 ing at the gold with his long, lean hands until his nails 
 were all broken and his flesh torn and bleeding. 
 
 Nor was Chance far behind Phon in the scramble. 
 Together the two delved and scratched and picked 
 about the bed-rock, amassing little piles and stacks of 
 nuggets from the size of a pea to the size of a hen's 
 egg, and so busy were they and so intent upon their 
 labour that neither of them noticed Corbett, who after 
 Phon's first wild cry had turned away in disgust, and 
 now sat solemnly smoking on a log by the camp-fire. 
 
 Taking his pipe from his mouth, he blew away a long 
 wreath of fragrant smoke, and as he watched it dissolve 
 in space his thoughts fashioned themselves into these 
 strange words: 
 
 "Confound your gold anyway! I don't want any 
 more of it in my share of life's good things." 
 
 CHAPTER XXIIL 
 
 THE hornet's nest. 
 
 ^■f : 
 
 1 
 
 
 AFTER the removal of Phon's boulder there was no 
 more talk of washing with pan or rocker, no more 
 thought of digging or mining. Even Chance and Phon 
 were content with the quantity of gold which lay ready 
 to their hands at Pete's Creek. The only trouble was 
 that at Pete's Creek the yellow stuff" was absolutely 
 woHhless, and that between Pete's Creek, where the 
 gold lay, and those cities of men in whicli gold is of 
 more value than anything else upon earth, were several 
 hundred miles of wild country, where a man might be 
 lost in the forest, or drowned in the river, or starved 
 
 mi^ 
 
 
212 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO I' 
 
 l^m. r 
 
 on the mountain, just like a beggarly coyotS, and that 
 although he was richer than a Rothschild. 
 
 Steve had heard of men in Cariboo who had paid 
 others ten dollars a day to carry their gold-dust for 
 them, and he would gladly have done as much himself; 
 but, unluckily, the only men within reach of him were 
 as rich as he was, and wanted help just as badly. So 
 Steve joined Corbett and Phon, and the three men sat 
 together looking down upon as much wealth as would 
 buy the life-long labour, aye, the very bodies and souls, 
 of a hundred ordinary men, and yet they were con- 
 scious that it was about even betting that they would 
 all three die beggars — die starving for want of a loaf 
 of bread, though each man carried round hia waist the 
 price of a score of royal banquets ! 
 
 Steve was the first to break the silence. Pointing 
 away over the rolling forest lands, towards the bed of 
 the Frazer river, he said: 
 
 " It looks pretty simple, Ned, and I guess we could 
 get there and back in a week." 
 
 " Do you ? You would be a good woodsman if you 
 got to the river in a week, and a better one if you ever 
 found your way back here at all." 
 
 " How's that ? You don't mean to say that you think 
 it possible that we shall lose the creek again now that 
 we have found it?" 
 
 " We ought not to, Steve, but that is a bad country 
 to get through and an easy one to get lost in;" and 
 Corbett's eyes dwelt mistrustingly upon the dark, dense 
 woods, the deep gullies, the impervious stretches of 
 brdl/, and the choking growth of young pines which 
 lay between the knoll upon which they sat and the 
 distant benches of the Frazer river. 
 
 "Well what had we better do. Ned? If we don't take 
 
THE HORNETS NEST. 
 
 213 
 
 id that 
 
 d paid 
 ast for 
 imself; 
 m were 
 
 iy. So 
 aen sat 
 I would 
 d souls, 
 re con- 
 ' would 
 [ a loaf 
 aist the 
 
 Pointing 
 ) bed of 
 
 e could 
 
 if vou 
 )u ever 
 
 think 
 kw that 
 
 )untry 
 ;" and 
 [, dense 
 Ihes of 
 1 which 
 id the 
 
 I'ttake 
 
 care we shall get caught in a cold snap before we know 
 where we are." 
 
 "We had better leave here to-morrow morning, I 
 think, Steve, carrying all the gold we can with us, and 
 make straight for the Frazer. There we may meet some 
 miners going out for the winter, and if they have not 
 struck it rich themselves they may be willing to pack 
 the stuff out for us. If not, we must look for old Kam- 
 pike and wait for the spring." 
 
 "What! and put up with nearly another year of 
 this dog's life with all thai lying there?" 
 
 " I'm afraid so, Steve. You can't order a special train 
 from here to New York though you are a millionaire." 
 
 For a little while Steve Chance sat moodily biting 
 at the stem of his unlit pipe, and then he asked 
 Oorbett — 
 
 " Are you going to join Rampike for his fall hunt, 
 Ned?" 
 
 "Certainly. Why not?" 
 
 " Oh, I don't know, only I thought that you might 
 have changed your mind;" and Chance's eyes wandered 
 round to the pile of gold nuggets over which Phon 
 kept guard. 
 
 " That can make no difference, Steve. I don't want 
 what Cruickshank stole from me. I want to settle with 
 him for my countryman's life." 
 
 " Much good that will do poor old Roberts. But as 
 you please. We are all mad upon one subject or 
 another. Do you still think that Cruickshank is 
 somewhere hereabouts?" 
 
 " I don't think that he is on this side of the river or 
 we should have come across his tracks before now, but 
 I fancy he is somewhere in this Chilcotin country." 
 
 "You don't think that that glove could have been his?' 
 
 :; 
 
 <1 
 
 i 
 
 li 
 
 i ! 
 
 Mi 
 
 ' 'I 
 \% 
 
 ] 
 
w 
 
 
 I :1 
 
 214 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN OARIBOOl" 
 
 ! ^'1 
 
 i \ 
 
 " You said that there were no men's tracks anywhere 
 near it, so I suppose not." 
 
 " That's so ; but I've seen some of your tracks since, 
 Ned, which looked awfully like those bear tracks. I'm 
 hanged if I know whether they were bear tracks 
 after all!" 
 
 " It is a pity you were so positive about them at 
 first then. But it is too late now in any case. If the 
 tracks were made by Cruickshank he is far enough 
 from here by now." 
 
 Again the conversation ceased for a time, the only 
 sound being the rattle of Pete's Creek in the dark 
 gorge below. 
 
 " It is a pity the goats have all cleared out. Don't 
 you think you could find one, Ned, before we start?" 
 asked Chance at length. 
 
 "No, I'm certain that I could not. We must be 
 content with trout (if Phon can catch any), and the 
 flour which I saved when we struck the creek." 
 
 " Ah, I had forgotten thai Is there much of it?" 
 
 " About half a pound apiece 'per diem for a week." 
 
 " Short commons for a hungry man, especially as the 
 berries are nearly all gone." 
 
 " It w\U be hungry work for us until we reach the 
 Frazer, but there is a little goat's meat left and the 
 fish." 
 
 "Say, Phon, you think you catch plenty fish by 
 to-morrow?" 
 
 " S'pose you come 'long an' help I catch *em," replied 
 Phon. 
 
 "All right, I'll come. How much gold you pack 
 along with you, Phon?" Steve added as the three went 
 down to the creek to fish. 
 
 " Me halo pack any," was Phon's unexpected reply. 
 
THB hornet's NEBT. 
 
 S16 
 
 pack 
 Iwent 
 
 eply. 
 
 " Halo pack any! Why, don't you want any gold?" 
 
 " Yes, me want him, but me not pack any. Me not 
 go to-moUow. Me stop here!" 
 
 "Stop here! What, alone! How about the devils?" 
 
 Poor Fhon glanced nervously over his shoulder. 
 The shadows were growing deeper and deeper amongst 
 the pine stems, and the trees were creaking and groan- 
 ing with a little wind which generally rose about sun- 
 down. 
 
 " S'pose you want find men carry gold to VictoUia, 
 one man go catch 'em. One man plenty. S'pose two 
 man stop here, that heap good. No one steal 'um gold 
 then," and the speaker pointed to the bags of dust. 
 
 " Nonsense, Phon. Who do you suppose would take 
 the gold?" 
 
 " Debil take him ; debil take him, sure. Debil watch 
 him all the time. S'pose all go, debil take him quick." 
 
 " Well, I'm afraid your friend the devil will take the 
 stuff to-morrow morning, for to-morrow morning we 
 all leave this place. You had bette** pack as much 
 dust as you can carry if you are afraid to leave it." 
 
 "No. Me halo pack any. S'pose all go, me stop 
 'lone." 
 
 It was a resolute reply in spite of the man's frightened 
 face, and the tone of it arrested Ned's attention. 
 
 " Have you ever really seen anyone about the camp?" 
 he asked. 
 
 " No, me halo see him, me halo see him. Only me 
 know him there. All the time he go lound an' lound 
 and look at the gold and come closer. Me halo see 
 him, me feel him looking all the time. Stop here, 
 Misser Ned, stop here." 
 
 "The gold has made you crazy, Phon," said Ned, 
 somewhat contemptuously, disregarding the piteous 
 
 t 
 
 i 
 
 5, 
 
216 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO 1" 
 
 
 i 
 
 ■: I 
 
 i- i 
 
 appeal in the man's tone and gesture. " However, if 
 you like to stay, it will do no harm. You can catch 
 plenty of fish, and we shall be back in a fortnight or so." 
 And then turning to Steve, Ned added, in a lower tone: 
 " He'll change his mind when he sees us start, and if he 
 doesn't we cannot drag him through that country, gainst 
 his will." 
 
 That night the three discoverers of Pete's Creek 
 worked as hard to collect a store of little trout as they 
 had ever worked to gather gold, and at dawn two of 
 the three stood ready to start on their march to the 
 Frazer. In spite of all Ned's persuasions Phon remained 
 firm in his resolution to stay with his treasure. For 
 him the woods were devil-haunted; articulate voices 
 whispered in every wind; faces of fear were reflected 
 from every starlit pool; and yet, in spite of all the terrors 
 which walk at night, Phon refused to leave his gold. 
 In him greed was stronger even than fear. 
 
 " He will be raving mad before we get back," mut- 
 tered Ned, as he gazed at the frail blue figure crouch-' 
 ing over the camp-fire; "but what can we do? We 
 can't * pack ' the fellow along with us." 
 
 " No, we cain't do that," replied Steve. " Poor beggar ! 
 I wouldn't be in his shoes for all the gcM in the creek." 
 
 And as he stared in a brown study at the charred 
 stumps and rough white woodwork in that gloomy 
 canyon, at the broken rock and the dead fires, Chance 
 began unconsciously to hum the air of " The Old Pack- 
 mude." 
 
 " Confound you, Steve," cried Corbett angrily, " stop 
 that! Isn't it bad enough to hear the winds crooning 
 that air all night, and the waters of the creek keeping 
 time to it? Shut up, for heaven's sake, and come 
 along!" and without waiting for an answer Ned turned 
 
 
THE hornet's nest. 
 
 217 
 
 Bver, if 
 I catch 
 I or so." 
 5r tone: 
 d if he 
 , gainst 
 
 Creek 
 Eis they 
 
 two of 
 
 to the 
 mained 
 B. For 
 
 voices 
 eflected 
 
 terrors 
 ^is gold. 
 
 " mut- 
 jrouch- 
 We 
 
 I" stop 
 
 ming 
 
 leping 
 
 Icome 
 
 irued 
 
 his back upon the gold camp and plunged boldly into 
 the woods between it and the Frazer. 
 
 It had been arranged that Corbett should go ahead 
 with the rifle, and that Chance should follow him with 
 an axe. "Any fool can blaze a tree, but it takes ja 
 quick man to roll over a buck on the jump," had been 
 Steve's verdict, and he had alloted to himself the 
 humbler office. 
 
 From the moment they left camp until nightfall, it 
 seemed to Steve that he and his companion did nothing 
 but step over or crawl under logs of various sizes and 
 difterent degrees of slipperiness. To follow the sinuous 
 course of a mountain stream through a pine-forest may 
 look easy enough from a distance, but in reality to do 
 so at all closely is almost impossible. 
 
 As for Pete's Creek, it ran through a deep and 
 narrow canyon, the walls of which were precipitous 
 rocks, along which no man could climb. The bed of 
 the creek for the most part was choked with great 
 boulders, amongst which the water broke and foamed, 
 rendering wading impossible; and along the edges of 
 the canyon up at the top the pines grew so thick, or 
 the dead-falls were so dense, that it was all Ned could 
 do to keep within hearing of the creek. 
 
 The constant forking of the stream made careful 
 blazing very necessary, and this took time, and the 
 course of the stream was so tortuous that they had 
 frequently to walk four miles to gain one in the 
 direction in which they wanted to go, so that when at 
 last they reached a bare knoll, from which they could 
 look out over the forest, it seemed to Ned and Steve 
 that the Frazer valley was no nearer, and the crawling 
 folds of the great Chilcotin mountains no more distant 
 than they had been at dawn. 
 
 
 
 ill i 
 
If 
 
 218 
 
 ••(1ULI>, UOl.U IN CARIBOO I" 
 
 1 1 
 
 i|!*' 
 
 But tlio foidN of tho inountiiinH were niroady full of 
 inky ^looin, nnd it wius ovidoiit tliat h Htoriny ni^lit was 
 close at haiul, ho titat whetlier tlioy had iiiado inaiiy 
 milen or tow upon thoir way, it \v»ih inifterativoly 
 noc*>ssary to camp at ouco. Almost boforo tho liro had 
 luHM) lii^htcd night fell, a night of intouHo darknivsNand 
 vsovoiv cold, a coKl which Hoi'mcd to bo drivon into tho 
 tirod travelloi\s by a shrill littlo wind, which got up 
 and grow and grow until tho groat pines bogan to 
 ttippio down by tho tloztMi, Krom timo to timo ono or 
 othi*r of tho slo(>pora W(mld wn.Uo with a shivor and 
 colloot fresh fuel for tho dying firo, or r(»arrango tho 
 log which ho had laitl at his back to koop tho wind oil"; 
 b\it in spite of every otlbrt tho night was a weary and 
 a slooploss ono both for Nod and Stove, and in tho 
 morning, wintor, the minor's tloadliost foe, liad come. 
 
 For A month or more yot there might not be any 
 serious snowfall, but the first flakes of snow were 
 molting upon Oorbott's clothes when ho got up for tho 
 liist timo that night and found that the dawn had 
 come. Far away upon tho distant crest of the black 
 mountains at his back, Ned saw the delictito lacc-work 
 of tho lirst snow-storm of the year like a mantilla 
 upon the head of some statedly Spanish beauty. 
 
 *' By Jove, Steve, we have no time to lose," said 
 Ned. "Look at that!" and ho pointed to the moun- 
 tains. " If this is going to be an early winter, Phon is 
 a lost man." 
 
 " Lead on, Ned," replied Steve, " I'll follow you as 
 long as my logs will let me, but if you can find any 
 way of avoiding those dead-falls to-day, do so. Nature 
 never meant me for a squirrel or a Blondin." 
 
 " The only other way if you don't like balancing along 
 these logs is down there over these boulders, and the 
 
TIIK IIOKNKTH NKHT. 
 
 'dlV 
 
 h\\\ of 
 lit was 
 
 many 
 itivoly 
 Vii had 
 \sH aiul 
 »to tho 
 ^ot up 
 Liaii to 
 
 ono or 
 or aii<l 
 \^Q th« 
 ind olV; 
 ,ry ftud 
 
 in the 
 come. 
 
 bo any 
 
 I '' 
 
 W(3r« 
 
 ;or tho 
 ha<l 
 black 
 work 
 
 antilla 
 
 ," said 
 moun- 
 *hoii is 
 
 fOVL BS 
 
 id any 
 Mature 
 
 along 
 id the 
 
 vn 
 
 wator tljoro Ih tlii|^h-d«'<'j) in placoH, an<l cold as ico;" 
 and Corbc-tt pointed U) tlio b<!(l of tlnj cnuik a hundrod 
 fo(!t b(^low. 
 
 " Lot'H try it for a vhtiu^c, No<l, it cain't )>« worHO 
 than thiH," panted Steve, who at the inonierit wan 
 crawling on liis IuumIh and knecH through a liKtwh-work 
 of burnt rootH and rairi|>ikeH. 
 
 "All right, come along," said NjmI, and UHing their 
 handH more tlian tlwir feet, the two i.-ien cn^pt down 
 tho rock wall of the canyon until tiiey reached tlicj 
 bed of the crer^k. 
 
 Here things went fnirly well with tlM-.m at firs^ 
 Tho water wjim icy cold, but their limbH were ho brui.sed 
 and foveriHh that Ukj cold water was [)h,'M.Hant to them; 
 and though tlie, bouhlerw ovcsr whi(;h they liafl to climb 
 were Hlippory and hard to fall against, they were not 
 more Hlippory and wry little harder than the logH 
 above. After two or thnMi miles of wading, however, 
 Sttno's limbs began to g<;t too numbed with coid to 
 carry him any further, and a return to dry land 
 became necesnary. LfK)king up for Home fejusible w.vy 
 out of tlio trap into which they had fallen, Nf;d at last 
 caught Hight of wJiat appeared to V>e fairly open 
 country along the edge of tho canyon, and of a way 
 up tho rock wall which, though diilicult, was not 
 impossible. 
 
 • Hero we are, Steve," lie cried as soon as he saw the 
 opening. " Here's an open place and a fairly easy way 
 to it. Come along, let's get out of this freezing creek ;" 
 and so saying he went at the rc>ck wall and began to 
 scramble up like a cat. 
 
 Steve was either too tire<l or too deliberate to follow 
 his friend at once, and in this instance it was well for 
 him that he was so, for a second glance showed him a 
 
 
Mil! 
 
 'U :i 
 
 220 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO I " 
 
 far easier way to the upper edge of the canyon than 
 the direct route taken by Ned. 
 
 Clambering slowly up by the easier way of the two, 
 Steve was surprised not to find Ned waiting for him 
 when he at length gained the top of the rocks, and 
 still more surprised when, after waiting for some 
 minutes, he heard a faint voice below him calling him 
 by name. 
 
 "Steve! Steve!" cried the voice. 
 
 "What is it, and where are you, Ned?" answered 
 Chance. 
 
 " Here, underneath you. Look sharp and lend me a 
 hand, I can't hold on much longer!" 
 
 By Ned's tones his need was urgent, and yet Chance 
 could not get a glimpse of him anywhere. Dropping 
 or* to his knees and crawling to the edge, Steve leaned 
 over until half his body was beyond the edge of the 
 cliff. Then he saw his friend, but even then he did 
 not comprehend his peril. The rock wall at the point 
 at which Ned had tried to scale it ended in a kind of 
 coping, which now projected over his head; but as if 
 to make amends for this, a stout little juniper bush 
 offered the climber a convenient hand-rail by which to 
 swing himself up on to the top. And yet with the 
 juniper within reach of him, there hung Ned Corbett 
 yelling for help. 
 
 " Why don't you get hold of the bush, Ned, and haul 
 yourself up ? I cain't reach you from here," cried Steve. 
 
 " Daren't do it!" came the sliort answer. " There's a 
 hornet's nest on it!" and as Ned spoke Ste"e caught 
 sight of a great pear-shaped structure of dry mud 
 which hung from the bush over the creek. 
 
 " Well, get down and come round my way." 
 
 " Can't do it. I can't get back," answered Ned, who^ 
 
 7 
 
 1 ; 
 
a than 
 
 le two, 
 or him 
 Ls, and 
 :■ some 
 ng him 
 
 iswered 
 id me a 
 
 Chance 
 ropping 
 ) leaned 
 J of the 
 he did 
 le point 
 kind of 
 .t as if 
 r bush 
 hich to 
 ith the 
 lorbett 
 
 id haul 
 
 Steve. 
 
 lere's a 
 
 [caught 
 
 mud 
 
 I, who^ 
 
 I 
 
 THE hornet's nest. 
 
 221 
 
 like many another climber, had managed to draw him- 
 self up by his hands to a spot from which descent was 
 impossible. 
 
 At that moment, whilst Steve was devising some 
 kind of extempore ladder or rope, there was a rattie of 
 falling stones, and a cry : " Look out, Steve, catch hold 
 of me if you can!" and as the frail hold of his hands 
 and feet gave way, Ned made a desperate spring and 
 clutched wildly at the ver^ bough from which that 
 innocent-looking globe of gray mud hung. The next 
 moment, at the very first oscillation of their home, out 
 rushed a host of furious-winged warriors straight for 
 Corbett's face. Luckily for him Steve had clutched 
 him by the wrist, and though the sudden attack of the 
 hornets upon his eyes made Ned himself let go his 
 liold, his friend managed to maintain his until, amid a 
 perfect storm of angry wings and yellow bodies, the 
 two lay together upon the top of the cliff. If Steve had 
 let go at that moment when the hornets rushed out to 
 war, Ned Corbett must have fallen back upon the 
 rocks at the bottom of the canyon, and there would 
 navo been an end to all his troubles. As it was he lay 
 the top of the cliffs, and realized that the worst 
 troubles were but beginning. 
 4.r i you much stung, Steve?" he asked. 
 
 ' i m bet I am, Ned. Look! that wjuld hardly go 
 into an eight-and-a-half lavender kid iiow," and Steve 
 held out his right hand, which v.ad already much 
 swollen. 
 
 But Ned did not take any notice of it. Instead he 
 pressed his hands against his eyes and writhed with 
 fv'i'rx, and when Steve laid his hand on him he only 
 .; uttered: "My God! my God! Steve, how will you 
 and Phon ever find your way out? I am stone blind !" 
 
 J: 
 
 y.i 
 
 i '1 
 
 n 
 
Uv/--- It' 
 
 ■ ;gvjM"' ■ VT^TPP 
 
 wmmm 
 
 ■m 
 
 222 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO 1" 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 DROWNING IN THE FOREST. 
 
 I 
 
 PERHAPS no two men were ever in more desperate 
 plight than were Steve Chance and Ned Corbett 
 as they lay upon the edge of Pete'si Creek canyon in 
 the Chilcotin com ; n that 2d of October, 1862. 
 
 For a week at leti. ney had been living upon very 
 meagre rations, made up principally of brook trout and 
 berries; for a day and a half they had been stumbling 
 hurriedly through one of the densest mountain forests 
 in British Columbia; and now, when Chance's strength 
 was exhausted and the grub half gone, Ned the guide 
 and hunter was utterly bereft of sight. 
 
 For ten long minutes the two sat silent, then Ned 
 lifted his head in a helpless dazed way, and Steve saw 
 that both his eyes were completely closed by the 
 hornets' stings. 
 
 " Chance, old chap, this ia bad luck, but it will all 
 rub off when it's dry. There are only two things now 
 for you to choose between, either you must go on alone 
 and bring help for Phon and myself from the Frazer, 
 or go back and bring Phon out with you. You and 
 he could catch a fresh supply of trout up at the pool, 
 enough at any rate to keep body and soul together." 
 
 "And what is to become of you, Ned?" 
 
 " Oh, I shaU get all right. I must get on as best I 
 can in the dai k for a day or two, and then if you can 
 spare mo the rifle, I shall be able to forage for myself. 
 If you can spare the rifle I can do with half my share 
 of the grub." 
 
Bsperate 
 Corbett 
 ,nyon in 
 .862. 
 >on very 
 rout and 
 umbling 
 1 forests 
 strength 
 tie guide 
 
 tien Ned 
 eve saw 
 by the 
 
 will all 
 igs now 
 Dn alone 
 Frazer, 
 Tou and 
 he pool, 
 her." 
 
 best I 
 
 TOVL can 
 
 [myself. 
 
 share 
 
 DROWNING IN THE FOREST 
 
 223 
 
 Steve Chance laughed. It was not the time which 
 most men would have chosen for laughing, but still 
 Steve Chance laughed a quiet dry laugh. The Yankee 
 didn't like hard times, and didn't pretend to, but he 
 had got into a comer, and had not the least idea of 
 trying to back out of it, 
 
 " Say, Ned, is that what you'd expect an 'old country- 
 man' to do? I guess not. And if it comes to that, men 
 don't go back on a pal in the new country any more 
 than they do in the old. If you stay here, I stay with 
 you. If we get out of this cursed country we get out 
 together, and if we starve we starve together. Let's 
 quit talking nonsense;" and Chance, whose spirit was 
 about two sizes too big for his body, got up and busied 
 himself about making a fire and a rough bed for his 
 sick comrade, as if he himself had just come out for a 
 pic-nic. 
 
 Now you may rail at Fortune, and the jade will only 
 laugh at you: you may pray to her, an 1 she will turn 
 a deaf ear to your prayers: you may try to bribe her, 
 and she will swallow your bribes and give you nothing 
 in return: but if you harden your heart and defy her, 
 in nine cases out of ten she will turn and caress you. 
 
 Thus it was in Steve's case. 
 
 He was as it were fighting upon his knees, half 
 dead but cheery still, and the woman-heart of Fortune 
 turned towards him, and from the time when he set 
 himself to help his blind comrade things began to 
 mend. In the first place, when he tried the creek for 
 trout, he found no difficulty in catching quite a 
 respectable string of fish in a little over an hour, 
 although for the last two days he and Ned had almost 
 given up fishing as useless outside Plion's pool. Then 
 on the way back from his fishing he met a stout old 
 
 I . I 
 
 '. fe:s' 
 
 » 
 
 i'^ 
 
 Kt 
 

 I 
 
 n* 
 
 224 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO!" 
 
 porcupine waddling off to winter quarters. Stout as 
 he was, the porcupine managed to move along at quite 
 a lively pace until he reached a pine, up which he went 
 as nimbly as a monkey ; but Steve was ready to do a 
 good deal of climbing to earn a dinner, and did it (and 
 the porcupine, too, " in the eye "). 
 
 Thanks to these unhoped-for supplies of fish and 
 hesh meat the two companions were able to camp and 
 rest for a couple of days, during which the inflamma- 
 tion in Ned's eyes abated considerably, although he still 
 remained totally blind, in spite of the rough-and-ready 
 poultices of chewed rose-leaves constantly prepared 
 for him by Steve. 
 
 " Do you feel strong enough to walk, Ned, if I lead 
 you ?" asked Steve after breakfast, on the third morning 
 in the homet's-nest camp. 
 
 " Yes, I'm strong enough, but you can't lead a blind 
 man through this country." 
 
 "Cain't I? I've been looking round a bit, and it's 
 pretty clear ahead of us. I've caught a good lot of 
 trout now, and if you will carry the rilie and the axe, 
 Ned, I'll try if I cain't find a way out for both of us." 
 
 "And how about blazing the trail?" 
 
 " Oh, I reckon we must let that slide. We can go by 
 the creek when we want to get in again. My blazing 
 don't amount to much so far, anyway." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "Well, it's no good raising Cain now, old man, 
 because the thing is done. I said 'any fool could 
 blaze a trail,' and I was wrong ; seems as if I'm a fool 
 who cain't blaze one. Anyway, I blazed all those trees 
 for the first two days as they came to me, not as they 
 passed me, and I reckon my blazes won't show much 
 from this side of the trees." 
 
tout as 
 it quite 
 he went 
 to do a 
 I it (and 
 
 ftsh and 
 imp and 
 flamma- 
 h he still 
 id-ready 
 prepared 
 
 if I lead 
 morning 
 
 d a blind 
 
 and it's 
 
 Dd lot of 
 
 the axe, 
 
 h of us." 
 
 m go by 
 blazing 
 
 Wd man, 
 lol could 
 [m a fool 
 lose trees 
 as they 
 Lw much 
 
 DROWNING IN THE FOREST. 
 
 226 
 
 
 A moment's reflection will make the whole signifi- 
 cance of Steve's admission plain even to those who 
 have never seen a blazed tree. In making a new trail 
 through a thickly-timbered country it is customary to 
 blaze or chip with the axe a number of trees along the 
 trail, so that anyone following you has only to look 
 ahead of him and he will see a succession of chipped 
 trees clearly defining the path. 
 
 If the trail is to be a permanent one, the man blazing 
 it chips both sides of the marked tree, so that a man 
 coming from either end of the trail can see the blazes. 
 If, however, you only want to enable a friend or 
 pack-train to follow you, you save time and blaze the 
 trees as you come up to them, on the side facing you 
 as you advance. This of course affords no guidance to 
 you if you want to return along your own trail, and 
 this was exactly what Steve had done. But bad as his 
 mistake was, it was too late to set it right, and realizing 
 this Ned made light of it, hoping against hope that 
 whenever his eyes should be opened again he would be 
 able to recognize the country through which they had 
 passed, and so find his way back to Phon. 
 
 But in his heart Ned never expected to see Phon or 
 the Golden Creek again. As he trudged along in the 
 darkness, holding on to the end of Steve's stick, he 
 could hear the refrain of that old song following him; 
 and though his eyes were shut he could see again 
 both those camps in the woods, the one in which he 
 had found Roberts dead, and the one in which, as he 
 now believed, he had left Phon his servant to die. 
 
 As a rule Ned's mind was far too busy with the 
 things around him to indulge in dreams and fore- 
 bodings, but now that his eyes were shut his head was 
 full of gloomy fancies and prophesies of evil. 
 
 (TUftt P 
 
 III 
 
226 
 
 **GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO!" 
 
 " I can't hear the creek any longer, Stove," he said at 
 length, as he and his guide paused for breath. 
 
 " No, and I'm afraid, old fellow, that you won't hear 
 it again. I've lost it somehow or other, trying to get 
 round those dead-falls." 
 
 " Are you sure that you can't hit it off again?" 
 
 "Sure! You bet I'm sure. What do you suppose 
 that we have been going round and round for the last 
 half hour for? I've tried all I know to strike it again." 
 
 "That's bad, but it can't be helped; steer by the sun 
 now and the wind. The Frazer is down below us, to 
 our left front." 
 
 For an hour leader and led blundered on in silence. 
 Following Ned's advice Steve took his bearings care- 
 fully, and then tried to steer his course by the sun and 
 the way the wind blew upon his cheek. But in an 
 hour he was, to use an Americanism, " hopelessly turned 
 round." You cannot go straight if you want to in the 
 woods unless you have a gang of men with you to cut 
 a road through live timber and dead-fall alike; you 
 must diverge here to escape a canyon, there to avoid a 
 labyrinth of young pines, and even if you try to cut 
 across a dead-fall you will be obliged to achieve your 
 object by tacking from point to point, just as the fallen 
 trees happen to lie. When he took his bearings, Steve 
 was confident that nothing could make him mistake his 
 general direction: a quarter of an hour later, when he 
 had sunk out of sight of the sun, in a perfect ocean of 
 young pines, he began to doubt whether his course lay 
 to his right or to his left. The sun was hidden from 
 him, no wind at all touched his cheek, and in that 
 hollow amongst the pines he could not tell even which 
 way the land sloped. He felt like a drowning man 
 over whom the waves were closing, and in his helpless- 
 
DROWNING IN THE FOREST. 
 
 227 
 
 e said at 
 
 3n't hear 
 ig to get 
 
 in? 
 
 I suppose 
 
 r the last 
 
 it again." 
 
 y the sun 
 
 low us, to 
 
 in silence, 
 ings care- 
 le sun and 
 But in an 
 3sly turned 
 t to in the 
 you to cut 
 alike; you 
 to avoid a 
 try to cut 
 lieve your 
 the fallen 
 [ngs, Steve 
 listake his 
 ', when he 
 jt ocean of 
 course lay 
 iden from 
 id in that 
 )ven which 
 ning man 
 helpless- 
 
 ness he became more and more confused, until at last he 
 was hardly certain whether the sun rose in the east or 
 in the west. 
 
 To the man who sits quietly at home and reads this 
 it may seem incredible that a level-headed man, and no 
 mean woodsman as woodsmen go, should ever entirely 
 lose his head and distrust his memory of the common 
 things which he has known all his life. And yet in 
 real life this happens. Men will get so confused as to 
 doubt whether the needle of their compass points to 
 the north or froTn the north, and so muddled as to 
 their landmarks as to be driven to the conclusion that 
 "something has gone wrong" with the compass, mak- 
 ing it no longer reliable. 
 
 As for Steve he had lost confidence in everything, 
 and was wandering at random amongst woods which 
 seemed endless — woods which shut out all life and 
 stifled all hope, which laid hold of him and his com- 
 rade with cruel half -human hands, otopping and tripping 
 their tired feet and tearing flesh as well as clothes to 
 ribands. 
 
 " Are we getting near the bench country yet, Steve?" 
 asked Ned at length. "We don't seem to me to be 
 going very straight." 
 
 " How can you tell, Ned ? Are you beginning to see 
 a little?" 
 
 " Devil a bit, but it feels as if we were scrambling 
 along side-hills instead of going steadily downhill all 
 the time, though I daresay it is only my fancy. I'm 
 not used to going about with my eyes shut." 
 
 "And / am," said Steve bitterly. "That is just 
 what I've been doing all my life, and now we shall 
 both have to pay for it. We may as well sit down and 
 die here, Ned. I cain't keep this farce up any longer. 
 
" !l!!ii 
 
 ml 
 llilij 
 
 i! 
 
 228 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO 1" 
 
 I'm clean turned round and have been all day;" and 
 with a great weary sigh Steve Chance sank down 
 upon a log and buried his head in his hands. He was 
 utterly broken down, physically and mentally, by the 
 difficulties of forest travel. 
 
 Even to the hunter these British Columbian forests 
 are full of difficulties, but to a man like Steve they are 
 more full of dangers than the angriest ocean. For an 
 hour or two hours, or for half a day, a patient man may 
 creep and crawl through brush and choking dead-fall, 
 putting every obstacle aside with gentle temperate hand, 
 and hoping for light and an open country; but even the 
 most patient temper yields at last to the persistent 
 buffets of every mean little bough, aiid the most en- 
 during strength breaks down when dusk comes and 
 finds the forest tangle growing thicker at every step. 
 
 To Steve Chance every twig which lashed him across 
 the eyes, every log against which he struck his shins,had 
 become a sentient personal enemy, whose silence and 
 apathy only made his attacks the harder to bear, until 
 before the multitude of his enemies and the darkness of 
 the trackless woods, the young Yankee's strength and 
 courage failed him, and he sat down ready if need be 
 to die, but too thoroughly exhausted to make another 
 effort for life. Had there been a ray of hope to cheer 
 him he would have kept en, but a day's wandering in 
 the dark labyrinths of a mountain forest, where the 
 winds have built up barriers of fallen pines, and where 
 the young trees rise in dark green billows above the 
 bodies of their unburied predecessors, is enough to kill 
 hope in the most buoyant heart 
 
 " Don't throw up the sponge, Steve," said a voice at 
 his elbow. '* We'll reach the Frazer yet." 
 
 The speaker was blind, and though he had never 
 
DROWNING IN THE FOREST. 
 
 22i) 
 
 lay;" and 
 
 Qk down 
 
 He was 
 
 ly, by the 
 
 an forests 
 e they are 
 I. For an 
 , man may 
 ; dead-fall, 
 jrate hand, 
 it even the 
 persistent 
 D most en- 
 comes and 
 very step. 
 I him across 
 8 shins,had 
 jilence and 
 bear, until 
 larkness of 
 rength and 
 if need be 
 :e another 
 le to cheer 
 [ndering in 
 where the 
 land where 
 above the 
 igh to kill 
 
 a voice at 
 
 lad never 
 
 opened his mouth to complain all through that weary 
 day, be sure that the led man had borne many a shrewd 
 buffet which his leader had escaped. If the forest was 
 dark to Steve, it was darker to blind Ned Corbett, but 
 he at any rate was unbeaten still. 
 
 " I think that I shall be able to see a little to-morrow, 
 Steve," he went on ; " and I believe that I can put your 
 head straight now." 
 
 " I don't see how even you can do that, Ned," replied 
 Chance despondently. 
 
 " Don't you ? Well, let's try. Are there any deer 
 tracks near us?" 
 
 "Yes, here's an old one leading right past the log 
 we are sitting on." 
 
 "That's good. Now follow that downhill, and if 
 you lose sight of it look for another and follow that 
 downhill too. The stags may go a long way round, but 
 it is long odds that they will go at leist to water, and 
 all water in this country leads to the Frazer." 
 
 Ned's reasoning seemed so sound to Steve that for a 
 time it inspired him with fresh energy, and although 
 at nightfall he had not yet reached the promised 
 stream, he rose again next day with some faint hope 
 to renew the search. 
 
 But the stags of Chilcotin were neither blind nor 
 lame nor tired, so that a journey which occupied more 
 than a day ao the pace at which tired men travel, 'y*i.s 
 but an afternoon's ramble for them. For the men, • ' ur 
 followers, the end was very near. At mid-day upon 
 the fourth day of Corbett's blindness, he and Steve 
 were slowly picking their way through logs and over 
 boulders which seemed to everlastingly repeat them- 
 selves, when Ned felt a jerk at the stick by which Steve 
 led him, and the dry sal-lal bushes crushed and the 
 
230 
 
 "GOLD, aOLD IN CARIBOO I" 
 
 :r S: 
 
 m m 
 
 Htick hung limply in his hand. Thero waa no one hold- 
 ing on to tho other end of itl 
 
 " What, Stove, down again?" he cried. "Hold up, old 
 nianl" But there wuh no auHWor. 
 
 "Stove," he cried again, "are you hurt?" but not 
 even a rustling bush replied. Wliatover was the 
 matter, Steve Chance lay very still. 
 
 "Great hoavens, ho can't bo doadl" muttered the 
 poor fellow; and the horror of the thought made the 
 cold perspiration break out upon his brow. 
 
 "Stove! Steve!" he cried, and falling upon his knees 
 he groped among the bushes until liis hand rested upon 
 his comrade's quiet face. There was no blood upon 
 either brow or cheek (Ned's questioning hand could 
 tell that much), so no stone had struck him in his fall, 
 and as he pressed his hand against Steve's chest a 
 faint fluttering told J^ed that life was not yet extinct. 
 But if not extinct it was at a very low ebb, and when 
 he had raised his comrade's head and made a rough 
 pillow for it of logs, Ned Corbett sat down in the 
 silence and in the darkness to wait alone for death. 
 
 He could do no more for Steve. If he wanted water 
 he could not get it, indeed if he dared to move a yard 
 or two away it was ten to one but that he would never 
 find his way back again. There was food enough in 
 his pack for one more slender meal, and probably the 
 food in poor Chance's pack would never be wanted by 
 him, but when that was gone, unless God gave him 
 back his sight, strong man though he was, Ned Corbett 
 could only sit there day by day in the darkness and 
 starve to death. He wondered whether a death by 
 starvation was painful, whether in such straits as his 
 it would be unmanly to kiss the cold muzzle of his 
 good Winchester and then go straight to his Maker 
 
DROWNINO IN TH2 FOREST. 
 
 231 
 
 one hold- 
 Id up, old 
 
 but not 
 
 woH tho 
 
 bered the 
 Diude the 
 
 his knees 
 
 a ted upon 
 
 ood upon 
 
 md could 
 
 D his fall, 
 
 ? chest a 
 
 it extinct. 
 
 md when 
 
 ! a rough 
 
 n in the 
 
 death. 
 
 ,ed water 
 
 ^e a yard 
 
 dd never 
 
 aough in 
 
 )ably the 
 
 anted by 
 
 ave him 
 
 Corbett 
 
 less and 
 
 eath by 
 
 as his 
 
 le of his 
 
 Maker 
 
 and ask Him what ho had done amiss that all these 
 troubles should have come upon him. 
 
 But Ned Corbett put the thoughts away from hiin. 
 Suicide was after all only a way of sneaking out of 
 danger and away from pain — it was a form of "funking;" 
 and though ill luck might dog him, and bully him, and 
 eventually kill him, Nod ground his teeth and swore 
 that it should not make him " funk." 
 
 Hut it did seem hard to think of Steve's sanguine 
 hopes as they sat in their tent by Victoria's summer 
 sea, to think of the weary pack-trail to Williams 
 Creek, the worthless claims, old Roberts' stony face 
 gazing piteously to heaven, tho gold in piles at Pete's 
 Creek, and all the rest of it; and then to think that 
 their share in the play must end 1 re, drowned in a 
 forest of pines, lost in the dark and forgotten, whilst 
 that thief would return to the light and live out his 
 days amongst his fellow-men in wealth and honour. 
 
 Just at this point the bushes at Ned's feet stirred, 
 and a faint voice murmured: 
 
 "Ned — are you there, Ned?" 
 
 In a moment Cruickshank was forgotten, and the 
 whole pageant of the unsuccessful past vanished. 
 Steve lived, that was enough for Ned. 
 
 " Yes, old man, of course I am. What is it?" 
 
 " Where am I, Ned, and what has happened?" 
 
 "You've tumbled down and stunned yourself, I 
 think, Steve; but lie still a little and you'll come round 
 all right." 
 
 " I don't think that's it, old man. I'm not in any 
 pain, but I think (don't get riled at me)— I think I am 
 going to send in my chips!" 
 
 " Nonsense, Steve. Don't make a blessed school-girl 
 of yourself." Corbett spoke roughly to rouse hiscomrade 
 
 I I 
 
 ' I 
 
 M 
 
wxmm 
 
 232 
 
 GOT,D, GOLD IN CARIBOO T 
 
 to fresL effort, but his own voice was very husky in 
 spite of himself. 
 
 " VSa no good, Ned, you cain't get another kick out 
 of me; and it doesn't much matter, anyway. Do you 
 remember that Indian superstition about the owls 
 hooting when a chief is going to die?" 
 
 "One of poor Rob's yarns, wasn't it?" 
 
 "Yes, one of Rob's. There! do you hear the owls 
 now ? There must be a dozen of them at least." 
 
 "What rubbish, Steve; and anyway you aren't a 
 chief, and the owls only hoot for a chief's death." 
 
 Chance did not answer, but instead, from somewhere 
 high up in the mountain forest, came a deep liollow 
 *' V/ho6, whC5!" answered almost immediately from the 
 pines just below where the white men lay. 
 
 Again and again the cries reverberated through the 
 forest, and Chance shuddered as he heard the hollow 
 prophecy of death, whilst Corbett, who had started to 
 his feet, stood straining every muscle and every sense 
 to catch each note of that weird hooting. 
 
 Suddenly a smile spread over his swollen features as 
 he said: "Do you hear that, Steve?" and at the same 
 moment a sharp "thud, thud" seemed to come through 
 the forest and stop suddenly at the very edge of the 
 clearing in which Ned stood, and Steve turning feebly 
 on his elbow saw a beautiful black and gray face, out 
 of which stared two great eyes, and above it were ears, 
 long twitching ears, which seemed to drink in every 
 forest whisper. For a moment Steve saw this, and 
 noted how the shadow of the fluttering leaves played 
 over the deer's hide, and then there came a sudden 
 flash of white, and in a few great bounds the apparition 
 vanished, cleai'ing six-foot logs as if they had been 
 sheep hurdles. 
 
DROWNING IN THE FOREST. 
 
 233 
 
 usky in 
 
 ick oufc 
 Do you 
 le owls 
 
 he owls 
 
 aren't a 
 
 lewhere 
 I liollow 
 Tom the 
 
 •ugh the 
 ! hollow 
 artcd to 
 •y sense 
 
 Itures as 
 .e same 
 ihrough 
 of the 
 feebly 
 -ce, out 
 ire ears, 
 every 
 |is, and 
 ayed 
 ludden 
 rition 
 been 
 
 " A mule deer, wasn't it?" asked Ned, who in spite of 
 his blindness seemed to have understood all that was 
 happening. 
 
 " Yes, a mule deer, and a rare big one too. Of course 
 I was too slow and too weak to get the rifle;" and 
 with a groan Steve sank back upon his side and shut 
 his eyes again. 
 
 "No matter, Steve, the owls will get him, and we 
 shall have our share. Did you hear that?" 
 
 As Ned spoke a rifle-hhot woke the mountain echoes, 
 followed by another and another, each shot lower down 
 the mountain ^han the one preceding it. 
 
 " Qreat Scott, how infamously they shoot!" muttered 
 ^Ted. *'The first fellow wounded him and he isn't 
 down yet. Ah, there — at last!" he added, as a fourth 
 shot was followed by an owl's cry, differing somewhat 
 from those which had preceded the advent of the 
 deer. 
 
 " What do you mean, Ned?" asked Chance, who had 
 been sitting up watching and listening open-mouthed 
 to his comrade's soliloquy. 
 
 " Mean ? Why, Indians, of course. ' Whoo, v/h55 ' 
 means 'where are you?' and ' h^, hh ' means 'I've killed, 
 come and help me pack him home;'" and Ned put his 
 hands to his mouth, and drawing a de(;p breath sent 
 the ^eep sepulchral call-note of the owl echoing through 
 the forest. 
 
 " It's life or death, Steve," he remark ;d ; " if the In- 
 dians aren't friendly it's deatli, but ii will be a better 
 death anyway than starving here in the dark." 
 
wmimm^mmmmmMm 
 
 234 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO I" 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 IN THE CAMP OF THE CHILCGTINS, 
 
 AS the echoes of Ned's hoot died away amongst the 
 pines, both he and Steve became conscious that 
 tliey were no longer alone. Someone else had entered 
 the clearing, and a pair of human eyes were intently 
 fixed upon them. This both the white men knew, not 
 by sigiit or hearing, but by that other sense for which 
 we have no better name than instinct. They had not 
 heard a rustle among the leaves, nor had Steve seen 
 so much as a shadow upon the grass, and yet both men 
 turned simultaneously towards the same point, and 
 Ned, in spite of his blindness, said '' Clahowyah" as 
 confidently as if he held his visitor by the hand, 
 
 "Clahowyah" (How do?), repeated a deep guttural 
 voice from the shadow of the pines, and as he spoke 
 a broad-shouldered wiry redskin stepped softly over 
 the logs to meet the whites. If he always moved as 
 silently as he moved then, it was no wonder that the 
 listening deer so often found themselves looking down 
 the barrel of Anahem's Hudson Bay musket before their 
 great ears had given them any warning of their danger, 
 
 " Thank God, we are saved," whispered Ned, as the 
 chief's words reached him. "He has traded with 
 whites, or he wouldn't speak Chinook. Lead me up 
 to him." 
 
 But Anahem saw the outstretched hand as soon as 
 Chance, and stepping quickly forward took it. 
 
 " ^dika halo nanitch?" (You don't see ?), he asked. 
 
 'Halo!" replied Ned, and he pointed to his swollen 
 eyelids. 
 
IN THB CAMP OF THE OHILOOTINS. 
 
 2S5 
 
 igst the 
 )us that 
 entered 
 intently 
 lew, not 
 r which 
 had not 
 )ve seen 
 3th men 
 int, and 
 yah" as 
 id, 
 
 juttural 
 e spoke 
 ily over 
 oved as 
 ihat the 
 g down 
 ire their 
 danger, 
 , as the 
 Id with 
 me up 
 
 Isoon as 
 
 sked. 
 jwollen 
 
 " Mika comtax — by and by skookum nam>itch" (I 
 understand, by and by you'll see all right), replied the 
 chief, and then turning he repeated the owl's call twice, 
 and almost immediately a low answer came to him 
 from the woods above. 
 
 Luckily for Steve and Ned, the chief of the Chil- 
 cotins had met many white men when in his early 
 days he had hunted on the Stikeen river, and all tho?a 
 whom he had met had been servants of a company 
 which has always kept good faith with iiT Indian 
 neighbours and employes. The honesty and fair deal- 
 ing of the Hudson Bay Company saved the two white 
 men's lives from Anahem and his tribesmen, as it has 
 saved many a hundred lives both of rsdskins and 
 whites since the day when the two races first met. 
 Anahem knew that a fresh class of whites had lately 
 come into his country — whites who cared nothing for 
 skins and trading, but who spent all their time digging 
 and making mud-pies by the river banks. He knew 
 it because he had heard of them, had seen their strange 
 canoes upon the Frazer, bottom u ards sometimes; 
 and once he had found one of their tiu cups, with some- 
 thing scratched upon it, hanging to a pine-tr' , under- 
 neath which lay a little pile of bones which the oyotds 
 had cleaned. 
 
 Probably these men, he thought, were gold-diggers, 
 and lost as that other one had been lost, whose bones 
 he had seen; but at any rate they were both very weak, 
 and one was blind, so for the sake of that great Com- 
 pany which was honest, Anahem determined to hel[» 
 these men, who, within half an hour of their first meet- 
 ing with the chief, lay warm and at rest within the 
 glow of his camp-fire. 
 
 Then it seemed to Steve that their troubles fell away 
 
 
 f 
 
 I 
 
HiMilbiM 
 
 li iiiiii r ii rfl ii i iii iM i t ii an 
 
 i 
 
 
 m 
 
 236 
 
 "GOLD, HOLD IN OARIBOOl" 
 
 from thorn like the forest shadowH before the firelight, 
 and it seemed already years ago since he and Ned had 
 sat down in the bushes to die. Anahcm's tribe was 
 out for itvs fall hunt, and Ned and Steve had luckily 
 wandered within the arms of the groat drag-net of 
 men, which was still sweeping the hillsides for game. 
 As they lay by the camp-fire Ned and liis compani(m 
 could hear th(^ hunters calling to each other; but the 
 net was broken now, and the cries were the cries of the 
 owl who has killed, not of the owl who still seeks his 
 q\iarry. 
 
 Here and there high up amongst the woods Steve 
 could see a little column of smoke, marking the spot 
 where some belated hunter had made up his ndnd to 
 pass the night. The fire would serve to cook his fix)d 
 and keep him warm ; and if any friend choro to come 
 and help him home with his game, the smoke would 
 guide him. But most of the hunters biought back 
 their game to camp that night, dragging it along the 
 trails, or packing it on their backs, so that before Steve 
 slept he had seen fifteen carcases brought in as the 
 result of this oi.e hunt. 
 
 He had often wondered in old days, how men who 
 neither ploughed nor sowed nor kept cattle could 
 manage to live through the long winter months: now 
 he wondered no longer. The Chilcotins had been in 
 camp for a week, and there \\ ere only six men amongst 
 them who had muskets, and }'ot there were four great 
 stacks of raw hides in their camp already — stacks as 
 high as a man's head, and on every bough within a 
 hundred yards of the fires were hanging strips and 
 chunks of deers' meat. 
 
 The camp reminded Steve of the appearance of a 
 hawthorn bush, in which a butcher-bird has built its 
 
 
IN THK OAMP OF THE OHILOOTINH. 
 
 237 
 
 relight, 
 led had 
 ho wan 
 luckily 
 ;-not of 
 r game, 
 ipanion 
 but the 
 s of the 
 jeka hia 
 
 Is Stove 
 ".he Hpot 
 [uind to 
 liis food 
 to como 
 e would 
 it hack 
 ong clio 
 Stove 
 as the 
 
 on who 
 3 could 
 s: now 
 eon in 
 rnongst 
 great 
 icks as 
 ithiu a 
 )s and 
 
 te of a 
 lilt its 
 
 noflt, — the whole place was red with raw moat.and there 
 were piles of soft gray down and hair, throe and four 
 foot hig'/». Those wore the scrapings of a hundred 
 hides, roughly cleaned by the Indian women during 
 the wook. 
 
 In such a camp as Anahom's hunger is an easy thing 
 to cure, and that and blindness wore Ned's chief com- 
 plaints; and oven the blindness yielded in a day or two 
 to a C(!rtain dressing prepared for Ned by the squaws. 
 But Stove Chance did not recover Jis easily as Corbett 
 did. The prostration from which he sudcrod was too 
 severe to be cured by a long night's rest and a couple 
 of square meals. At night he lay and tossed in broken 
 slumbers, and dreams came to him which wearied him 
 more than if he had never slept. Fie saw, so he said, 
 thi gold-camp every night of his life, and Phon the 
 only human being in it; and all the while Phon stood 
 in a flood of gold dust, which rose higher and higher, 
 until it swelled and broke over him and ran on a yellow 
 heavy flood like the flood of the Frazer. 
 
 Day after day Ned waited and hoped against hope, 
 until the Chilcotins were ready to strike their camp 
 and go home for the winter. He had already done his 
 utmost to persuade Anahcm to search for Phon, but tlie 
 chief took very little notice of him. Either he thought 
 that Ned like Steve was rambling in his mind, or he 
 did not understand him (for iUiahem spoke very little 
 Cliinook, and Ned spoke less), or, and that is probable 
 too, he did not think it mattered much what became 
 of a Chinaman ; and as to the gold, if it really was there, 
 it would probably wait until the white men could go 
 and look for it themselves. If Ned would have gone 
 with him, Anahem would have gone perhaps to look 
 for the creek; but Ned could not leave Chance whilst 
 
B WMrff ISiWWHI 
 
 238 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN OARIBOO!" 
 
 K ( 
 
 m: 
 
 Wi\ f.' 
 
 he was ill, and Steve would not get well, so that ended 
 the matter. 
 
 There seemed only one course open to Ned, and he 
 prepared to take it. Anahem had told him as they 
 talked one night over the camp-fire that he had seen 
 the smoke of a white man's fire coming from a dug-out 
 on the hanks of t^** Frazer. 
 
 "How long ago »y is that?" asked Ned. 
 On my way up here, about the time of the young 
 moon," answered Anahem. 
 
 "Then that may be Rampike," muttered Ned; and 
 the next day he got Anahem to siiow him the direc- 
 tion in which the dug-out lay. 
 
 "Could I get there in two days?" he asked. 
 
 " A ekukum (strong) Indian could. The sick white 
 man can be there on the third day at nightfall." 
 
 This was enough for Ned. Next morning he bought 
 some meat and dried salmon from his Indian friends, 
 and guided by Anahem and followed by Chance he 
 left the camp. If Chance's strength would hold out 
 until they could reach the dug-out, he could nurse him 
 there at his leisure, and by and by, when Steve was 
 stronger, Ned and Rampike could go out together to 
 look for Phon and Cruickshank. It was not impossible 
 after all that they should find Phon still alive, though 
 fish and roots and the inner bark of trees would be all 
 that he could get to live upon. But would Chance's 
 strength hold out? That was the trouble. He was 
 terribly worn and weak, and his eyes shone feverishly, 
 and he neither slept well nor eat well in spite of the 
 fresh keen air. As he followed Anahem up a steep 
 bluff Steve panted and his knees were unsteady, and 
 when the chief stopped at last upon a bald ridge over- 
 looking the pine-woods, he lay back upon his light 
 
it ended 
 
 , and he 
 
 as they 
 
 lad seen 
 
 dug-out 
 
 e young 
 
 fed; and 
 le direc- 
 
 5k white 
 I." 
 
 5 bought 
 friends, 
 ance he 
 old out 
 rse him 
 )ve was 
 sther to 
 )ossible 
 [though 
 be all 
 Ihance's 
 [e was 
 jrishly, 
 of the 
 steep 
 fy, and 
 over- 
 light 
 
 m THB OAMP OF THE OBILCOTINS. 
 
 S39 
 
 load spying, "It's as well you've Stopped, chief, at last 
 Another hundred yards, and I should have bucked my 
 pack off." 
 
 Anahem looked surprised that even a sick man 
 should complain of such a trifling hill. An old squaw 
 would have carried two sacks (a hundred pounds) of 
 flour up it without a murmur, and Steve's pack did not 
 weigh half that. 
 
 "Your bones," he said, smiling rather contemptu- 
 ously, "white bone, our bones wild bone," and then 
 turning to Corbett he pointed out *x) him where the 
 deep-bellied Frazer roared along in the valley below 
 the pine-woods, and to one spot upon its banks, where, 
 so he said, was the white man's dug-out. 
 
 " You see," he said, " where the sun will set. 
 
 " Nawitka" (Certainly), answered Ned. 
 
 " Now, look on the Frazer's banks under there where 
 the sun will set, and you will see one patch all the 
 same, like blood." 
 
 "Yes, I see it" 
 
 " Now, look to that side of it," and he waved his 
 hand to the left, " and you will see one great mud- 
 mountain like this;" and with his stick he drew in the 
 sandy soil at his feet a picture of « great cathedral 
 organ, with pipes reaching from the river to the 
 sky. 
 
 Ned was startled by the strange likeness which the 
 chief's picture bore to a thing which the chief could 
 never have seen, but he held his peace and looked for 
 the mud-mountain. 
 
 " Yes, chief," he said. " I see a great mountain of 
 mud, but I cannot see the shape of it from here." 
 
 "Not see the shape of him! Ah, my friend not see 
 well yet," said Anahem pityingly; and though Ned 
 
 I i 
 
 \ ^ 
 
amma 
 
 uaaa 
 
 240 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO !' 
 
 f!-' f 
 
 knew very well that his sight was as good as it had 
 ever been, he said nothing. 
 
 He didn't want Anahem to think that wild sight 
 like wild bone was better than the civilized samples of 
 the same. 
 
 " Well, you see the mountain. By and by you come 
 closer and see his shape. Under that mountain, in the 
 bank on this side the river, stop one white man. You 
 keep along this trail," and Anahem pointed to the track 
 upon which they stood, "along the ridge, and by and by 
 it will go downhill, and on the night of the third day 
 you will see the white man. Good-bye," and before 
 they knew that he was going the old chief turned, and 
 like the shifting shadow of a cloud which the winds 
 blow across the hillside, he moved away and was gone. 
 There was no sound as he went — no twig snapped, no 
 overall scraped against the bushes. In silence he had 
 come, and in silence he had gone. For a moment the 
 two with " parted lips and straining eyes stood gazing 
 where he sank," for indeed it seemed to them as if 
 the sea of the woods had opened and swallowed up 
 their friend. Then Chance spoke: 
 
 "A creepy old gentleman, Ned; rather like one of 
 Phon's devils." 
 
 " A deuced good devil to us, anyway. If we ever 
 find Phon and the gold we shall owe our good luck to 
 him, as we owe him our lives." 
 
 " Yes, I wish he had stopped. I should like to have 
 given him a 'potlatch.'" 
 
 "Just as well that you didn't offer him anything. 
 He might have liked this rifle, but I really doubt 
 whether he knows enough about gold-dust to make 
 him value that." 
 
 " That's what, Ned. But come on and let us get 
 
a it had 
 
 ild sight 
 imples of 
 
 rou come 
 In, in the 
 an. You 
 the track 
 y and by 
 bird day 
 id before 
 med, and 
 he winds 
 was gone, 
 ipped, no 
 ce he had 
 >ment the 
 )d gazing 
 lem as if 
 owed up 
 
 e one of 
 
 we ever 
 I luck to 
 
 to have 
 
 lything. 
 
 doubt 
 
 to make 
 
 us get 
 
 IN THE CAMP OP THE OHILOOTINS. 
 
 241 
 
 through this beastly forest to those open benches 
 below ;" and Chance made as if he would burst his way 
 through the barriers of serried pines which intervened 
 between him and the Frazer valley. 
 - " What, again, Steve?" cried Ned. " Isn't one lesson 
 enough for you? If you tried that you would be lost 
 again in ten minutes. No more short cuts for me. I 
 mean to stick to the trail, and you must follow me;" 
 and so saying Corbett took up his bu idle and went 
 ahead at a quiet steady pace which, in five or six 
 hours, brought Steve to the land of his desire, where 
 what trees there were were great bull-pines standing 
 far apart, and giving men lots of room for their feet 
 below and wide glimpses of heaven above their heads. 
 
 As soon as they reached the open country Chance's 
 spirits improved, and his strength came back with his 
 spirits, but for all that he was still so weak that the 
 progress which Ned and he made was very slow, and 
 their provisions were again at a perilously low ebb 
 when they came in sight of that strange freak of 
 nature, opposite to which dwelt (so they hoped) their 
 old friend Eampike. The bluff was exactly as Anahem 
 had drawn it: an organ cast in some Titanic mould, 
 the pipes of it two hundred feet from base to summit, 
 and stained with all manner of vivid metallic colours. 
 At its foot was the gray Frazer, and the dull sky of 
 early winter hung low about its head; but the organ 
 was dumb from all eternity, unless those were its 
 voices which ignorant men attributed to the winds 
 and the fretting foaming river. 
 
 For awhile the two wanderers stood staring in 
 wonder at this strange landmark, and then Steve's 
 weary face lit up with a smile and a mist came over 
 his eyes. 
 
 (796) --....'^•^ - 
 
w 
 
 242 
 
 **aOLD, OOLD IN CARIBOO 1" 
 
 " Ned, as I hope for heaven, there's smoke!" and he 
 stretched out his arm and pointed to where a thin blue 
 column curled up against the sky. 
 
 Ned saw the smoke as clearly as Steve, but in spite 
 of Steve's entreaties he absolutely refused to press on 
 towards it. 
 
 " No, old fellow, we will camp here for a couple of 
 hours, and you must eat and sleep. That smoke is a 
 long way from here yet, and we may miss it to-night 
 after all when we get low down amongst those sand- 
 hills." 
 
 From where they stood the column of smoke looked 
 within a stone's-throw, but Corbett knew well how 
 the clear atmosphere of British Columbia can deceive 
 eyes unused to measure distance amongst her moun- 
 tains. So in spite of Steve's protestations the two men 
 camped, and though he did not know it, Stove eat 
 Ned's lunch, and Ned carried Steve's away in his 
 pocket in case they should not be able to reach the 
 river by nightfall. That slender ration in Ned's 
 pocket was the very last food which the two men 
 possessed, and Ned was already reproaching himself 
 for his rashness in starting so poorly provided. 
 
 " What if after all Rampike should not be at the dug- 
 out, or, if there, should be himself short of grub?" 
 
 Luckily for Steve and Ned it seemed as if fortune 
 had almost spent her malice upon them, for that 
 evening as they reached the edge of the last bench 
 above the Frozer, they saw that they had steered a 
 true course. Right below them, issuing from a little 
 black funnel in the mud-bank itself, rose the column 
 of smoke, and in the bed of the river, upon a sand-bar, 
 they could see a man working a cradle. 
 
ke!" and he 
 ) a thin blue 
 
 «AMP,w'g WINTER Q17AR7TCR8. 
 
 343 
 
 but in Hpite 
 to press on 
 
 a couple of 
 
 smoke is a 
 
 it to-night 
 
 bhose sand- 
 
 loke looked 
 well how 
 Jan deceive 
 her moun- 
 le two men 
 Stove eat 
 r&y in his 
 reach the 
 in Ned's 
 two men 
 ig himself 
 ed. 
 
 it the dug- 
 rub?" 
 if fortune 
 for that 
 ast bench 
 steered a 
 m a little 
 le column 
 sand-bar. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 HALLO, therel HaJloI" cried ^fn. 
 eyes fell unon fhl ^^^^ ^^ ^^on as his 
 
 «teve's voice wJ«o ^Ibi? '"f '"« ^^^^^^i ^ 
 country where mud ba^ k?^^^ T^^ ^"^^ «^«ali i„ a 
 
 «-y t did not even^atLTeho""* ''^ "^^^'^^^ 
 
 Ned, and so saying he r,\L , '^'"^^^ P'"""'" «aid 
 who«e beggarly'Ufrenne^ S T t !''''" ™--. 
 come and hide it from the fecToUhtn *° "'"'"' '" 
 Its ail very wpII f« * n •'"^ ^un. 
 
 Ned turned and «aw S^vl "llf.^ °'i^ ^"^ ''<'-"• 
 woe-begone face of his comr!,]/^, *'.'"''' ">« ^W^ 
 comedy of the position So tW 0°"'^ heightened the 
 S'ck and worn-out these 7^ I"?' '''"'«'««' g««P 
 stomachs empty and ihJ 7° **''"""'^' «'ith their 
 and laughed un^i,Theteat;otd d"" "' J''"™^' ^^ 
 . From the nezt step in the t "^r".*''"'' <=''««'''^ 
 nver Ned joined hi. d'lep ba^s ^ sf "^ '^ '"'* *^ *^« 
 they shouted their loudest rattaofT.'' ""•^ *°««"'«' 
 ton. In vain. Whoever he w^tht J!* "'"°'"'"^"- 
 
 " ^^a* 'he man worked on, 
 
 ,^t 
 
 Ji 
 
244 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO i' 
 
 bending over his rocker, with the gold fever at his 
 heart and the boom of the great river in his ears. 
 
 " It's no good, we must go right down to him," said 
 Ned; and five minutes later he and Steve stood 
 together upon the bar on which the man was at work. 
 But so intent was he upon his rocking, or so silent was 
 the approach of his visitors' bare and bleeding feet over 
 the great boulders, that it was not until Ned's shadow 
 fell upon him that the gold-worker was aware of a 
 stranger's presence. 
 
 Then quick as thought he sprang to his feet, snatch- 
 ing up a Winchester as he did so, and covering his men 
 with it before he had time to look into their faces. 
 
 "Stand off!" he roared, "or by 'Mity I'll let light 
 through you!" and for the moment it seemed a mere 
 toss-up whether he would shoot or not. But the men 
 he spoke to were as reckless of life as he was. Hard- 
 ship had taught them that a human life is not such a 
 wonderfully big stake as the fat townsmen seem to 
 think. 
 
 "You're in a tearing hurry to shoot, ain't you?" 
 asked Steve coolly. " How would it be if we were to 
 talk first? Don't you know us, Rampike?" 
 
 At the first sound of Steve's voice the miner had 
 dropped his rifle into the hollow of his arm, and now 
 he came forward, and holding out a huge hairy paw, 
 yellow with river mud, said simply, " Shake." 
 
 It was not a very effusive greeting, but men don't 
 "gush" much in the upper country, and yet that 
 glimpse of a friendly face, and grip of a friendly hand, 
 acted as a wonderful restorative upon the tired natures 
 of both Steve and Ned. The sky itself seemed to get 
 clearer and the mountain air less chill now that they 
 had run against a " pal " once more. 
 
jr at his 
 ars. 
 
 lim," said 
 ve stood 
 at work, 
 lilent was 
 ; feet over 
 *8 shadow 
 Yare of a 
 
 it, snatch- 
 g his men 
 ' faces. 
 I let light 
 ed a mere 
 it the men 
 m. Hard- 
 not such a 
 m seem to 
 
 in't you?" 
 re were to 
 
 imer had 
 
 and now 
 
 lairy paw, 
 
 len don't 
 yet that 
 Idly hand, 
 \d natures 
 led to get 
 (that they 
 
 RAMPIKE'S WINTER QUARTERa 
 
 245 
 
 " Wal, sonny, did you strike Pete's Creek?" was old 
 Rampike's first question after they had all three 
 " shaken some." 
 
 " We did so," answered Steve. 
 
 "Any 'pay' up there?" 
 
 " I should smile," r*^plied the Yankee, using the slang 
 of his country, and throwing down the belt of dust 
 whicli he had clung to through all his wanderings. 
 
 "Why, this is free gold!" 
 
 " You bet it is; and there is enough for everyone we 
 know and to spare," added Steve, "where that came 
 from." 
 
 For a minute or two Rampike only turned the gold 
 over and over in his hands and said nothing. At last 
 he asked: 
 
 "Did you git Cruickshank?" 
 
 " No, never saw him," answered Ned. 
 
 " Praise the Lord you ain't got everything. I ain't 
 sure as I wouldn't ruthcr look at him through the 
 back-sights of this here, than find a crik like youm ;" 
 and the old man passed his hand caressingly along the 
 barrel of his " 4470." 
 
 " But, say, you look mighty hard set. Have you any 
 grub along with you?" 
 
 " Not an ounce of fiour, and this is the last of our 
 meat;" and so saying Ned pulled out of his pocket the 
 ration which he had kept for Chance. 
 
 " It's pretty lucky that I'm well heeled in the way 
 of provisions, ain't it, else we'd all starve. Wal, come 
 along up to the ' dug-out;* " and so saying he picked up 
 his coat and rifle and led up to the bluff, until all three 
 stood before the door of his winter residence. 
 
 Next to the homes of the pre-historic cavemen, and 
 a few rude stone-heaps in which the Caucasian Ossetes 
 
 t! 
 
 i: II 
 
m'i • 
 
 246 
 
 "aOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO I" 
 
 II 
 
 live, tlio "dug-outs" along the Frazer river are the 
 most miserable abodes ever fashioned for themselves 
 by men. And yet these holes in the hill, with doora 
 and roofs aflush with the hillside, are better adapted 
 to resist the intense cold of a British Columbian winter 
 than either frame-shack or Jog-hut. 
 
 "Come right in, lads," said Rampike, putting his 
 foot against the planks which served him for a door, 
 and thus rudely clet^rinp the v.'ay for his visitors into 
 a little dark interior with walls and floor of Frazer 
 river niua. 
 
 A rough table, a solitary chair, and a kind of bench 
 furnished the hovel somewhat more luxuriously than 
 might have been expected, but unless you took a deep 
 interest in geology the walls and general surroundings 
 in Rampiko's reception- ruoia were distinctly crude and 
 unpleasant. 
 
 If, however, you cared for geology, you could study 
 specimens of the Frazer river system through the wide 
 chinks between the boards which walled the room 
 without even leaving your chair. Indeed, there was 
 more " bed rock," as Rampike called it, than boarding 
 in the composition of his walls. 
 
 But neither geology nor furniture attracted any 
 attention from Steve or Ned. When they ent >red 
 the cabin their eyes lit upon two ohing*' only, and it 
 was a good hour before they took any real interest in 
 anything else. The two centres of attraction were a 
 frying-pan and a billy, round which all three men 
 knelt and served, making thei selves iiito cooks, 
 stokers, or bellows, until tlie l)illy sang on the hearth 
 and the bacon hissed in the pan. 
 
 Then for a while there was silence, and this story 
 does not begiri agaiu until someoup i»iruck a mai^h 
 
\ 
 
 • are the 
 icmselvcs 
 ith doors 
 r adapted 
 ill winter 
 
 tting his 
 :)r a door, 
 litors into 
 ji Frazer 
 
 of bench 
 ualy than 
 ok a deep 
 roundings 
 crude and 
 
 uld study 
 
 the wide 
 
 the room 
 
 here was 
 
 boarding 
 
 cted any 
 en t red 
 ly, Hud it 
 ^terest in 
 were a 
 iree men 
 cooks, 
 ie hearth 
 
 lis story 
 ma^ch 
 
 rampike's winter QU>i';rER& 
 
 247 
 
 upon the seat of his pants. I believe it was Rampike, 
 because, having had more experience than Steve, he 
 could bolt his food faster. I know that it was not Ned, 
 for he could never finish his meal until about the end 
 of Steve's first pipe. Steve said it was because the 
 Englishman eat so much. Ned said that in England 
 men eat their food, in America they "swallered down 
 their grub." " Swallerin' down your grub," he said, 
 " was a faster but less satisfactory process than eating 
 your food," But as I wish to remain upon friendly 
 terms wit>. botli disputants, I cannot enter into this 
 matter. 
 
 "Do you reckon to go in again this fall?" asked 
 Rampike, without any prelude but a puff of tobacco 
 smoke. 
 
 "To the creek?" said Ned, reaching across his 
 neighbour for the billy. " Yes, we must go in, and 
 that soon." 
 
 " What's your hurry ? Steve here cain't travel, and 
 you're pretty nigh played out though you are hard ; 
 and as for the gold, that'll stay right there till spring." 
 
 " You forget that there were three of us at Antler. 
 Phon is up at the creek now." 
 
 "Phon! What, that Chinee! Is he up at the 
 crikV" 
 
 "If he is alive he is," answered Ned. "He may 
 have starved for all I know." 
 
 "Starved! rot he; but you'll never see that heathen 
 agen. He'd live on dirt or nothin' at all, any Chinee 
 can do that; but you bet your life he ain't up there 
 now. He's just skipped out to Victoria by some other 
 road with all the dust he can pack along. That's what 
 Phon has done." 
 
 " You don't know him, Jim, and you aren't fair to 
 
 I 
 
 ? 11 
 
w^ 
 
 7m 
 
 
 mwf 
 
 1 ^ ' 
 
 
 m ' 
 
 f' : 
 
 l\ 
 
 
 ill 
 
 248 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO!" 
 
 him. No westerner ever is fair to a Cliinaman. Phon 
 will stay by the creek. My only fear is that wo 
 sha'n't be able to find the creek." 
 
 "Not find the crik, you say! Why, Ned Corbett, 
 you ain't no bloomin' tenderfoot in the woods, are 
 you? You ain't likely to forgit your way to the 
 bank when the whole business belongs to you?" 
 
 " Perhaps not, but I've been blind for a week ;" and 
 then answering the inquiry in Rampike's eyes, Ned 
 lighted his pipe and told the whole story of his own 
 and Steve Chance's wanderings, from the time when 
 they struck Pete's Creek until their return to the 
 Frazer. 
 
 Now and again Rampike broke in upon the thread 
 of the narrative with some pertinent question, or a 
 comment as forcible as a kick from a mule, but he 
 managed to keep his pipe going pretty steadily until 
 Ned came to Steve's feat in " blazing." Then the old 
 man's wrath broke out, and his pipe even dropped 
 from his mouth. For a moment he looked at Steve 
 in speechless indignation, and then he expressed him- 
 self thus : 
 
 " Strike me pink," he said, " ef a real down-easter 
 ain't a bigger born fool in the woods than any 
 bloomin' Britisher I ever heerd tell on. That's so." 
 
 After this there was a pause, during which Steve 
 snored peacefully, and old Rampike, having made an 
 exhaustive examination of the bowl of his pipe, pro- 
 ceeded to refill it with chips from his plug of T. & B. 
 
 At length Ned began again: 
 
 " You've been looking for the creek yourself, haven't 
 you?" 
 
 "No. I stayed right here, making wages on that 
 bar there." 
 
rampike's winter quarters. 
 
 249 
 
 . Phon 
 ihat wc 
 
 Corbett, 
 ods, are 
 to the 
 f" 
 
 ek ;" and 
 es, Ned 
 hid own 
 ne when 
 1 to the 
 
 le thread 
 
 on, or a 
 
 3, but he 
 
 ily until 
 
 the old 
 
 dropped 
 
 ,t Steve 
 
 led him- 
 
 l^n-easter 
 lan any 
 Is so. 
 Ih Steve 
 
 lade an 
 |pe, pro- 
 
 ?. &B. 
 
 I haven't 
 Ion that 
 
 " I wonder who made those camps then which we 
 found along the divide. I can't think that those were 
 Indian camps;" and Ned told his companion of the 
 camps which he and Steve had stumbled upon during 
 their search for Pete's Creek, as well as of that glove 
 found by the bear tracks. 
 
 "Bear tracks!" growled Rampike, "not they. A 
 softy who would blaze the wrong side of a tree 
 wouldn't know bear tracks from the tracks of a gal's 
 shoe with a French heel to it. Cruickshank's tracks, 
 that's what they was, and ef you don't see more of 'em 
 before you get your gold out of Pete's Crik you may 
 call me the biggest liar in Cariboo!'* 
 
 " You don't mean to say that you think Cruickshank 
 would dare to dog ws/" 
 
 "Dog you! That man would dog the devil for 
 gold" 
 
 This was a new idea to Ned. If there was any 
 truth in it, then all Phon's stories of faces seen in the 
 pool, of eyes which watched the gold, of figures which 
 rustled ever so lightly over the dry sal-lal on the 
 canyon's edge, when all save Phon and the night owls 
 slept, all these stories might be something more than 
 the imaginings of a crazed Chinaman's brain. 
 
 For a while Ned sat silently smoking and looking 
 thoughtfully into the embers. Then he rose, and 
 knocking the ashes out of his pipe said: 
 
 "I am going to look for Phon to-morrow if Steve 
 seems well enough to be left here. Shall you come?" 
 
 "Yes, I reckon I may as well. You cain't hev all 
 the sport, sonny. I'm ruther partial to gunning my- 
 self." 
 
^Rr > r " 
 
 I ■ 
 
 I ' 
 
 
 
 
 I 
 
 250 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO 1" 
 
 CHAPTER XXVH 
 
 THE SEARCH FOR PHON. 
 
 FOR ten days or a fortnight after the conversation 
 recorded in the last chapter, Rampike and Ned 
 Corbett wandered about the country trying to "locate" 
 Pete's Creek. 
 
 They started, as they had arranged to, upon the very 
 next morning, leaving Steve Chance with ample pro- 
 visions, to sleep and eat and rest himself after the 
 hard times which he had been through, or if he wanted 
 a little exercise and amusement there was the bar 
 down below the dug-out upon which he could earn 
 very fair wages by using Eampike's rocker. 
 
 From the dug-out to vhe mouth of the Chilcotin 
 was no great distance, and Ned felt certain that any- 
 one who knew his way to it could reach the camp in 
 which he had left Phon in one day from the river's 
 mouth. Unfortunately neither he nor Rampike knew 
 their way to it, and still more unfortunately they went 
 the wrong way to work to find it. At the end of a 
 fortnight they both saw their mistakes, but it was too 
 late to remedy them. Instead of taking up his own 
 tracks at once and trying to follow them back through 
 the woods to the creek, Ned had taken Rampike up 
 the course of the Chilcotin, in the hope that he would 
 be able to identify Pete's Creek amongst the hundred 
 and one creeks and streams which emptied themselves 
 into the main river from its right bank. 
 
 In this he failed signally, and when the search was 
 over it was somewhat late to take up the back tracks, 
 which were already faint and partly obliterated. How- 
 
ersation 
 nd Ned 
 "locate" 
 
 khe very 
 iple pro- 
 fter the 
 J wanted 
 the bar 
 aid earn 
 
 ^hilcotin 
 
 lat any- 
 
 camp in 
 
 B river's 
 
 :e knew 
 
 iey went 
 
 nd of a 
 
 was too 
 
 lis own 
 
 bhrough 
 
 )ike up 
 
 would 
 
 lundred 
 
 Imselves 
 
 rch was 
 tracks, 
 . HoW' 
 
 THE SBARCH FOR PHON. 
 
 361 
 
 ever, there was nothing else to be done, so Rampike 
 and Corbett started again, following the tracks step 
 by step until they came at last to the Chilcotins' camp. 
 Here they found dead fires and dry bones, and piles 
 upon piles of soft gray fur, and over all these signs of 
 slaughter more than one track of the inquisitive deer 
 whose kinsmen had been so ruthlessly butchered all 
 round. Where the principal camp-fire had stood, was 
 a message written to whomsoever it might concern, a 
 message written with twelve unpeeled sticks, each 
 about six inches long, driven into the ground one 
 behind the other, in Indian file, their tops or heads all 
 bent one way, towards the south. 
 
 There were two other sticks, but these were peeled 
 and white, and their heads bowed towards the Frazer. 
 
 Old Rampike touched the sticks with the toe of his 
 moccasin. 
 
 "Pretty good writin', I call that," said he; "beats 
 school-teachers' English to my mind. * Twelve Injuns 
 gone south, two whites gona down to the Frazer,' that's 
 what that fellow says, and the piles of fur will tell you 
 why they were all here, and a squint at them bones 
 will give you a pretty fair notion when they went 
 away." 
 
 So far, no doubt, the records were plain enough. 
 Unfortunately it had not occurred to the Indian his- 
 torians to point out from which direction those two 
 whites had come to them, and a short distance outside 
 the limits of the Chilcotin camp all trace of them 
 ceased, for winter had come upon the Chilcotin uplands. 
 The higher Ned went the colder the weather grew, 
 until at last he felt that he had fairly entered the 
 domain of the ice king. On the bald hills the yellow 
 grass was hidden, and on the long pastures the little 
 
 'i| 
 

 253 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO!" 
 
 '" f 
 
 dumps of pir<« were powdered and plumed with 
 snow. 
 
 All colour had gone from the landscape. There were 
 no more red flushes of Indian pinks amongst the sun- 
 dried grass, no more gleamings of sunlight upon lakes 
 of sapphire blue. All was white, white, dead white, or 
 a still more lifeless gray where the wind had swept 
 the lakelets and left the rough ice bare. 
 
 In the glare of the winter sun, ice crystals floated 
 instead of the mites which used to dance in the summer 
 sunshine, and on those gray blots, whi'*h had been lakes 
 where ducks called and shook their dripping wings, 
 stood now the mud-huts of the musk-rats, and beside 
 them at the edge of the ice stood their owners, rigid, 
 silent, and watchful, as everything seemed to be in this 
 silent winter-world. As far as the eye could see, in 
 heaven or on the earth, there was nothir ' which lived 
 or moved except those musk-rats, and you could not 
 tell that they lived until the ice crunched under your 
 feet. Then they vanished. There was no sound. 
 You did not see them go, only when you looked again 
 the little rigid figures were there no longer. Even old 
 Rampike almost shivered as the biting wind caught 
 him when he topped the ridge, and he drew his coat 
 together and buttoned it as he turned to Ned. 
 
 " It's real winter up here, sonny, and I reckon it will 
 be mighty lonesome for that heathen of yours by the 
 crik, unless he and Oruickshank hev jined and gone 
 into partnership. I'm beginning to think as he has 
 got starved after all." 
 
 Ned made no reply. It was horribly lonesome; but 
 if Phon and Cruickshank had met, Ned didn't think 
 that the Chinaman would care whether the sun warmed 
 or the winter wind froze him, whether he lay alone or 
 
I with 
 
 re were 
 le sun- 
 n lakes 
 hite, or 
 swept 
 
 floated 
 lummer 
 »n lakes 
 
 wings, 
 [ beside 
 s, rigid, 
 J in this 
 [ see, in 
 ch lived 
 uld not 
 er your 
 
 sound, 
 d again 
 ven old 
 
 caught 
 ds coat 
 
 it will 
 by the 
 d gone 
 he has 
 
 le; but 
 
 think 
 
 [armed 
 
 lone or 
 
 THE SEARCH FOR PHON. 
 
 263 
 
 
 in the midst of his fellow-men. Ned had a hideously 
 vivid recollection of another snow scene, and of a cer- 
 tain little black bullet hole in the nape of a man's 
 neck. 
 
 Well, after all, he reflected, death by gunshot might 
 be preferable to a slow death by starvation and cold, 
 and day by day it became more abundantly clear that 
 neither Rampike nor Ned would find their way to 
 Phon that winter. 
 
 The snow had changed the whole surface of the 
 country so thoroughly that even had Ned passed 
 through every inch of it with his eyes open he would 
 never have recognized it again. There were hollows 
 where before there had been hills, hills where there 
 had been hollows. The drifting snow had made a 
 false surface to the land and covered every landmark; 
 and, moreover, the two searchers began to feel that it 
 would not do to remain in the uplands any longer, 
 unless they too would be cut off and buried away from 
 their fellow-men by the tons upon tons of soft feathery 
 stuff which the skies threatened to pour down upon 
 them every day. 
 
 " It's no good talking, Ned, we're beat and we've got 
 to give in. If your heathen hasn't skipped out some 
 other way he's a corpse, that's just what he is, and 
 we've no call to risk our skins collecting corpses," said 
 Rampike as he sat in the dug-out, to which the two 
 had returned after nearly three weeks' search for 
 Phon. " The Almighty seems to have a down on you, 
 my lad, somcways, and if one may say so without harm, 
 He seems to be standin' in with Cruickshank, but you 
 bet He'll straighten it out by and by. Up to now 
 Cruickshank has won every trick, and you're jest about 
 broke; but no matter, we'll stay right with him all the 
 
Hi I 
 it [ 
 
 \ V 
 
 ;; 
 
 
 
 i 
 
 il 
 
 il 
 
 364 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO 1" 
 
 while, and we'll get four kings or a straight flush and 
 bust the beggar sky-high at the finish: see if we don't. 
 What we've got to do now is jest to hole up like the 
 bars. Winter's coming right away." 
 
 It was a long speech for Rampike, but the occasion 
 was a serious one, and the old man felt that it would 
 require all the influence which he could bring to bear 
 to make Ned Corbett accept his defeat, and take some 
 thought for his own safety. 
 
 "What makes you think that winter is so close?" 
 Ned asked. 
 
 " Wal, there's a many reasons. The weather has 
 been hardenin' up slowly all the while, and yesterday 
 I saw the tracks of a little bunch of ewes along the 
 top of that bench above us. The big-horns are comin' 
 down, and when they come down you may look out 
 for real winter. You bet." 
 
 After this there was silence for a time. Steve and 
 Ned were thinking of the long account unsettled be- 
 tween themselves and Cruickshank, and a little too of 
 the weary months during which they must lie dormant, 
 as Rampike said, " like bears in a hole." 
 
 At last there was a clatter on the floor. Jim's pipe 
 had fallen from his mouth, and the old man was 
 snoring peacefully in that beauty sleep with which he 
 generally preluded his night's est. 
 
 As he lay there with his coat under his head and his 
 patched flannel shirt turned up to his elbows, showing 
 a hard sinewy forearm, Jim Rampike was a type of 
 that strong wild manhood which flooded the West from 
 '48 to '62, spending its force in a search for gold in 
 spite of nature and in the face of any odds, and yet 
 utterly careless of the gold when won. 
 
 Let those who will preach upon the sordid motives 
 
THl SBABOH FOR PHON. 
 
 355 
 
 ish and 
 e don't, 
 like the 
 
 Dccaslon 
 t would 
 to bear 
 ke some 
 
 close?" 
 
 ,her has 
 Bsterday 
 long the 
 e coram' 
 look out 
 
 ieve and 
 
 .tied be- 
 
 le too of 
 
 ormant, 
 
 's pipe 
 Ian was 
 rhich he 
 
 and his 
 [howing 
 type of 
 1st from 
 rold in 
 ^nd yet 
 
 lotives 
 
 which drew all that muscle and pluck to the West; 
 others will remember how freely the miners squandered 
 that for which they risked so much. 
 
 There were no misers amongst the miners of the 
 West; the fortunes they made were mere counters in a 
 game which they played, not for the stakes but for 
 the sake of the game itself — for its very dangers and 
 hardships; and, thanks chiefly to one strong man, who 
 still lives in the country which owes him so much, 
 their game was played in British Columbia with less 
 loss of life and less lawlessness than in any other 
 mining centre in America. 
 
 To Jim mining or prospecting was what big game 
 hunting is to richer men. He had prospected alone 
 for months in the Rockies, he had won big stakes in 
 California in the great "rushes," and he had starved and 
 toiled, loafed and squandered in turn, until his hair 
 was as gray as a badger's coat and his lean frame 
 strong and wiry as a wolf's. When he made a pile he 
 set himself diligently to " paint the nearest town red." 
 Drinks for every man and jewellery for every woman 
 he met as long as the dust lasted was his motto; and 
 if the dust which he had taken months to gather would 
 not melt quick enough by fairer means, he would 
 smash costly mirrors, fill champagne glasses only to 
 sweep rows of them down with his cane until the 
 champagne or the dust was all gone, or else he would 
 put every cent upon the turn of a card in the hands 
 of a man whom he knew did not play fair. 
 
 In a month at most Jim's spree was over. For that 
 month he had been the most noticeable fool in a town 
 of noisy roisterers; at the end of it he was "dead- 
 broke" again and happy. Then without an idea of 
 the eccentricity either of his own or the gambler's 
 
JWniTBflfW 
 
 266 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO I' 
 
 conduct, he would betake himself to that worthy and 
 borrow from him enough gold to begin life again; and 
 to the gambler's credit bo it said, that he never refused 
 to grant such a loan, never looked for interest upon it, 
 nor troubled himself much about the return of the 
 capital. Freely if dishonestly he came by his gains, 
 freely at any rate he gave; and many a man owes a 
 good turn to the very men whose delicate sense of 
 touch drew more gold into their pockets than was 
 ever won by any single miner's pick. 
 
 They are, after all, only symbols for which we all of us 
 spend our lives, and if the yellow dust led the old man 
 to live the life he loved, and which suited him, what 
 did it matter ? As Ned watched the red firelight flicker 
 about the strong square jaw, and redden like blood on 
 the great forearm, he felt that i.icre was at any rate 
 one man in Cariboo in whom he could unhesitatingly 
 trust. 
 
 Before turning over to sleep Ned softly opened the 
 door of the hut and looked out. The night was clear 
 and bright, so clear that the hills opposite seemed to 
 have come closer to the hut than they had been by 
 day. Overhead stars and moon seemed to throb with 
 a strange vitality, and burn with a cold fire all unlike 
 the faint and far presentment of stars in an English 
 sky. Nor was the boom of the river, which was as the 
 accompaniment to every song of nature's changing 
 moods, the only sound upon the night air. There was 
 a voice somewhere amongst the stars — a loud clear 
 "Honk, honk!" a cry of unseen armies passing over- 
 head, and Ned as he listened recognized in the cry of 
 the geese another of nature's prophecies of winter. 
 
 But the cry of the geese and the boom of the river 
 only emphasized the solitude which reigned around 
 
THE SBAROH FOR PHON. 
 
 267 
 
 rthy and 
 rain; and 
 r refused 
 b upon it, 
 n of the 
 lis gains, 
 n owes a 
 sense of 
 than was 
 
 re all of us 
 e old man 
 [lim, what 
 grht flicker 
 3 blood on 
 t any rate 
 jsitatingly 
 
 fpened the 
 was clear 
 leenied to 
 been by 
 irob with 
 lall unlike 
 English 
 as as the 
 changing 
 'here was 
 »ud clear 
 ling over- 
 \he cry of 
 linter. 
 I the river 
 around. 
 
 Nature was alone on the Frazer that night, except for 
 one great shadowy figure which Ned suddenly became 
 aware of, moving upon the sand-bar upon which he 
 had first seon Rampike. For a while Corbett thought 
 that the moon was playing strange freaks with him, 
 and so thinking he covered his eyes and changed his 
 position. But no, it was no fancy. From side to side 
 with a slow swinging motion the great dark bulk 
 lurched silently along. If its tread had been as heavy 
 as that of a battalion, Ned would not have heard it at 
 that distance through the roar of the river, but that 
 never occurred to him. The form gave him the idea of 
 noiseless motion, and besides, at the second glimpse, he 
 knew the beast that he was watching. The Lord of 
 the Frazer walked in his own domain. 
 
 A moment before the mystery of the night had Ned 
 Corbett in its clutches, but the sight of the grizzly 
 banished dreams at once, and the moon a minute later 
 looked down upon another actor in the night's drama, 
 one who hid his shining rifle barrels beneath his ragged 
 coat, and tried hard but in vain to still the loud beat- 
 ings of his heart; for the sight of so noble a foe stirred 
 the blood of the Shropshireman as fiercely as the sight 
 of the gold had stirred Phon's sluggish blood. But 
 the hunter toils in vain quite as often as his brother 
 the gold-seeker, and when Ned Corbett reached the 
 river bed the bear had gone — gone so silently and so 
 speedily that but for those huge tracks in one of 
 which both Ned's feet found room, Corbett would 
 have vowed that what he had seen was but another 
 shadow of that haunted river bed. 
 
 IW) 
 
w^ 
 
 258 **OOLD, QOIiD IN OARlSUUl" 
 
 CIIArTEll XXVIII. 
 
 TUE KINO OF TUB BIQ-UOIINS. 
 
 THIS here's the lost day's huntiii' as you'll get for 
 quite a while, and don't you forget it." 
 
 The speaker was Hainpike, and he spoke with 
 the emi)haHi8 of conviction. Ned Corbett, who stood 
 beside him at the door of the dug-out, seemed inclined 
 to argue with him, but Rampike did not wait to liear 
 what he had to say. 
 
 " You think," said the old man, " as it ain't partickler 
 cold jest because the air is dry and there's plenty of 
 sunshine. Wait until you get out of the sunshine and 
 you'll know more about it. Why, look there at the 
 old river — she don't close up for nothing." 
 
 Ned looked in the direction indicated by Rampike's 
 outstretched hand, and noticed for the first time that 
 on the yellow flood of the Frazer a strange white scum 
 had risen, which seemed to gather as it drifted by so 
 as to almost impede the river's progress in places. 
 This was the beginning of the ice. 
 
 " There'll be a bridge to-morrow, I shouldn't wonder, 
 as you mout drive cattle over. If you want any more 
 huntin' you'd better get it to-day. We could do with 
 another sheep or two." And so saying the old man 
 went back into the cabin. 
 
 The air of British Columbia is so dry and the sun- 
 light so bright, that until the shadows begin to fall or 
 the wind begins to blow, it never occurs to anybody 
 that the thermometer may have fallen to " ten below." 
 To Ned Corbett, as he shouldered his rifle and climbed 
 
II get for 
 
 oke with 
 vlio stood 
 d incUnod 
 lit to hear 
 
 partickler 
 
 plenty of 
 
 ashine and 
 
 lero at the 
 
 Rampike's 
 
 time that 
 
 yhite scum 
 
 £ted by so 
 
 in places. 
 
 ;'t wonder, 
 any more 
 ^d do with 
 old man 
 
 the sun- 
 to fall or 
 
 anybody 
 m below." 
 Id climbed 
 
 THB KINO OF TBI BIO-HORNS. 
 
 269 
 
 the first hill, it seemed that the weather was about 
 what you would exp« ;t in England in October, but he 
 chang >d his mind ut't'T ho had been for five minutcH iu 
 a narrow ffuliy with a noi^^hcm awpoct into which no 
 sunlight came. There indeed he began to wonder why, 
 in spite of his toil, he e.. ned no healthy glow such an 
 exorcise nhould bring, and even when he emerged upon 
 the top of the bench he was almost afraid to open his 
 mouth lest the bitter cold should creep down his throat 
 and freeze his vitals. 
 
 But there waw that upon the glittering snow-covered 
 table dand which diverted his attention from the cold. 
 At first ho thought that the herds of some distant 
 rancher had wandered to the Frazer, and were now 
 feeding before him in little mobs and bunches of from 
 ten to twenty head. There were so many bea8t8 in 
 sight, and in the wonderfully clear atmosphere they 
 looked so large, their dark coats contrasting with the 
 snow upon which they stood, that it never occurred to 
 Ned that they were sheep. 
 
 A second glance, however, revealed the truth, just ae 
 a second thought reminded him that there was no 
 rancher then in British Columbia from whom these 
 herds could have wandered. 
 
 Here and there Ned could see the yellowish-white 
 stems of a band feeding from him, or the splendid 
 sweep of a noble pair of horns against the clear sky. 
 These were no domestic cattle, bred to be butchered, 
 but a great army of big-horns driven from their moun- 
 tain haunts by the advance of winter. For a while 
 Ned lay and looked at them as they scraped away the 
 snow to get at the sweet sun-dried grasses beneath, and 
 then he began to consider how best he might win some 
 trophy from them with which to adorn the hall of that 
 
 I 
 
r" ; niji^fjfi 
 
 " ,?*pWM^i!limmm»mMi*» 
 
 :. I 
 
 i I 
 
 260 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO I" 
 
 lon^, low house of his f ather s which looked from Shrop- 
 shire across the hills to Wales. 
 
 Thei'e were giants amongst them, Ned could see that, 
 and his lingers itched to pull the trigger at more than 
 ono great ram; but the chiefs of the herd, nine in 
 Dumbvjr, lay like nine gray images of stone in the 
 middle of a level, park-like expanse, round which the 
 smaller beasts fed and kept guard. For a long time 
 Oorbett lay and looked at the silent nine, with their 
 hend-G turned in different directions, as if each had 
 undertaken to watch one particular q viarter for a cora- 
 ino- foe. At last one of the nine rose slowly, and stood 
 looki/ig intently towards Corbett. At the momeixt he 
 himyolf had risen somewhat upon his hands and knees 
 to get a fai/er view- of the coveted horns, and possibly 
 at a thousimd yards the ram had seen enough o'i Ned's 
 cap above the sky-lino, to make him suspicious. Had 
 a gray-faced old ewe seen as much she would have 
 gi ven the alarm, but the ram was bolder or more care- 
 less. 
 
 For ten minutes Corbett had to remain as he was, 
 his head rigid, and the spines of a prickly pear run- 
 ning into the palms of his hands. At the end of that 
 time the ram lowered his head, turned round, and lay 
 flown again. It was only an odd -looking boulder, 
 ho thought, after all ; but had he looked ten minutes 
 later the ram would have missed that boulder upon 
 the sky-line, foi Ned Corbett was going at his best 
 pace downhill to a point from wdiich he thought that he 
 could creep to within two hundretl yards of his prey. 
 
 Ned was going at his best pace, because ..he sun stood 
 so high in the heavens, that under ordinary circum- 
 stances the siheep would have already been on thct 
 move for the timber. 
 
 -tfs: 
 
irmmt—nirim "^ i 
 
 om Shrop- 
 
 id see that, 
 more than 
 d, nine in 
 )ne in the 
 
 which the 
 , long time 
 
 with their 
 [ each had 
 • for a com- 
 T, and stood 
 momei>t he 
 s and knees 
 ,nd possibly 
 o-h o'i Ned's 
 
 :ious. 
 
 Had 
 
 ^ould have 
 more care- 
 as he was, 
 pear run- 
 2nd of that 
 ^id, and lay 
 icf boulder, 
 |en minutes 
 ilder upon 
 it his best 
 rht that he 
 his prey, 
 sun stood 
 :y circum- 
 leu on th€i 
 
 THE KINO OF THE BIG-HORNS. 
 
 261 
 
 As it was there could not be much time to spare in 
 spite of the temptations of the new-found pasture, and 
 as Ned's snow-clogged moccasins kept letting him down 
 upon the hillside, he just lay where he fell, and, in his 
 own words, "let himself rip" until he reached the 
 bottom. There he pulled up with a jerk, a somewhat 
 bruised and breathless person, but utterly reckless of 
 such small matters as biuises if he could only get up 
 to his point of vantage in time. 
 
 Alas for the hopes of mortals! When Ned Corbett 
 had reached the top of the opposite bank his breath 
 was coming thick and short, and great drops of per- 
 spiration were splashing on to the snow from liis 
 brow, but there was not one single sheep in sight 
 where half an hour before he had seen five hundred. 
 The white table-land was empty. Ned could have 
 seen a sparrow on it if there had been one to see, but 
 there was no living thing there, only across and across 
 it were the tracks of many feet, and in one place where 
 the rams had been, long plunging tracks, and then, as 
 it were, a road along which the herd had trotted 
 steadily away to the timbered gulches above. That 
 stalker's cuise, the wind, had brought some hint of 
 Ned's presence to the watchful beasts, and they had 
 not waited for anything more. 
 
 "Confound the wind!" Ned muttered, "I'll be shot 
 if I can understand how it happened;" and plucking a 
 few hairs from his yeilow head he let them go, and 
 watched them as they drifted straight back into his face. 
 
 " The wind is all right now," he growled. " Well, I've 
 not done with them yet;" and having made quite sure 
 that the nine chiefs had gone up a certain gully, he 
 began to make another detour in order to get above 
 them. 
 
'MM",_.Jn,._JI^-Vi,l^i^fl -:W',W'!'' 
 
 'Mm 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
 :■ 
 
 •!> 
 
 262 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO I" 
 
 Up and up he went, the snow getting deeper as he 
 climbed higher, and the trees growing wider apart. 
 Now and again he had to force his way through a 
 thick place of young pines, where, as his shoulders 
 brushed against them, the boughs discharged whole 
 avalanches of soft, heavy snow upon his head, half 
 blinding him for the moment. Once he saw the sun- 
 light gleam upon what looked like a spear-head low 
 down on the other side of a pine-bole, but as he looked 
 a big brown ear flickered forward beside the spear- 
 head, and next moment a great stag had risen, and for 
 half a second stood looking at the intruder. But Ned 
 let the stag go. He did not want stags just then, and, 
 besides, in the green timber on the ridge where he stood 
 there were lots of them, and all large ones. The little 
 fellows lived lower down, it seemed. 
 
 So he pushed on, until all at once the frost got hold 
 of him. In a moment his heart seemed to stop beating, 
 his knee remained bent in the very act of climbing 
 over a log, his hands stuck to his sides, and his eyes 
 stared as if he had seen a ghost. Right below him, not 
 sixteen paces away, stood the statue of the thing he 
 sought. It could not be a live beast; it was too still. 
 Only for a second Ned dared to look before he sank into 
 the snow behind a juniper bush, but in that second 
 he saw that what he looked on was the statue of an 
 old, old ewe, big almost as a six-year old ram, and 
 gray with age, her villainously-inquisitive head turned 
 (luckily for Ned) downhill. For a few seconds the ewe 
 stood seaiching the depths of the gully below, ai^d 
 then, without so much as a glance uphill, tossed her 
 head in the air and walked silently forward past 
 Corbett's hiding-place. One after another, all at the 
 same sober pace and all as silent as shadows, ten or 
 
jt.i..^-..ki^. -I-, -.y-.a»^..»..».. 
 
 THE KING OP THE BIG-HORNS. 
 
 263 
 
 a dozen old ewes went by in the footsteps of the 
 first. 
 
 Then there was a little noise — you would not have 
 heard it anywhere else, but in the silence of the snow 
 it was quite loud — and forty or fifty ewes and lambs 
 went by, all, even the lambs, looking inquiringly 
 down into the gully below, but none of them wasting 
 so much as a glance upon the ground above them. 
 After the lambs had gone by there was a pause, a break 
 in the stream, and Corbett's heart began to throb louder 
 than it had any right to. So far he had not even drawn 
 a bead upon the sheep. Sixty beasts at least had gone 
 by him one after another within sixteen paces, and he 
 had let them go. He knew well from experience that 
 the last comers would be the rams, and last of all would 
 come the master of the flock. There was a kind of 
 knoll just below him, and the first sight he got of each 
 new-comer was upon this. One after another the sheep 
 appeared, like figures upon a pedestal, at this spot, stood 
 awhile, gazed, and then passed on. At last a ram stood 
 there, his great horns standing out very wide from his 
 head. "Not of much account," thought the hunter. 
 "He's a four-year old; maybe fourteen inches round 
 the butt — not more anyway," and he let him go. 
 
 Twice after that Ned raised his rifle and refrained. 
 The biggest had not come yet. At last he could stand 
 it no longer. How could he tell that the beauty before 
 him was not the master ram? and if so, in another 
 second he would be gone. The rifle rang through the 
 mountains, a dozen blue grouse rattled out of the pines 
 and swung downhill on wide, motionless wings, the 
 ram toppled rig'at over and went bumping down the 
 gully out of sight. There was a wild rush of hurrying 
 feet and the thu.d, thud of beasts that leapt from rock 
 
 I ? 
 
 iM 
 
r 
 
 ' I 
 
 wm 
 
 i 1 
 
 ill 
 
 264 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO I" 
 
 to rock, and then all was still. Rushing forward in 
 the direction taken by the herd, Corbett found himself 
 stopped by a ravine — a deep-cut, uncompromising cleft 
 in the rock, bare stone on either side, and a sheer fall 
 between of some hundreds of feet, and from side to side 
 not less than twenty-five to thirty feet across. Ned 
 stopped dead. This was beyond any man's power, even 
 with a fair run and a good take-oft", and yet every lamb 
 in that band had jumped it — jumped it clear! 
 
 As he stood marvelling at the great leap before him, 
 a stone rattled down from the other side of the ravine, 
 and raising his eyes Corbett saw what many a man 
 has sought season after season in vain, a ram, big and 
 square-built as a mountain pony, with great horns 
 curling close against his head in a perfect curve, horns 
 which measured at the very least, eighteen good 
 inches round the butt. 
 
 Ned had only a second to look at him in, and even 
 before he could pull the trigger the ram had turned; 
 but for all that Ned heard the loud smack of his 
 bullet, and he knew that it was not the rock against 
 which it had struck. 
 
 " Got him right on the shouMer-blade," he muttered, 
 as he started full of hope to circumnavigate the hoavl 
 of the ravine. It was a long way round, but Ned got 
 over the ground quickly, and soon found his wt>un(l»Hl 
 beast hobbling sl<^wl\- away upon throe legs. For two 
 solid hours Ned fallowed his ram, who, in spite of his 
 wound, could go just fast enough to kee^ his pursuer 
 out of range. 
 
 Meanwhile the sun was sinking fn^t, p.nd in spito of 
 himself Ned had to admit that he must give ur the 
 chase. Even for an eighteen-inch liead ht dartni not 
 risk a night out on these mountains with the ther- 
 
>rwarrl in 
 d himself 
 Ising cleft 
 sheer fall 
 de to side 
 3SS. Ned 
 •wer, even 
 t'cry lamb 
 ! 
 
 3fore him, 
 he ravine, 
 ly a man 
 ti, big and 
 eat horns 
 rve, horns 
 icen good 
 
 and even 
 d turned; 
 ck of his 
 against 
 
 nnttered, 
 the head 
 
 N(hI gx)t 
 |\vi>undt»d 
 
 For two 
 Ite of his 
 
 pursnor 
 
 spite of 
 
 iir the 
 
 irvd not 
 
 lie ther- 
 
 TIIE KINO OF THE BIG-HORNS. 
 
 266 
 
 mometcr at ten degrees below zero. "Just one more 
 ridge," he muttered to himself, "and then I'll give him 
 up;" and so muttering he climbed painfully through 
 the deep snow to the top of yet one more of those 
 little ridges, over so many of which he had climbtjd 
 that day. As his head came over the sky-line, Ned's 
 heart dropped into his boots, and he felt the sicknciss 
 of despair. The ram had vanished. He could see for 
 half a mile in front of him, but there was no ram. 
 Could it be that after all that weary ti-amp, and in 
 spite of all those great splashes of blood, his prey had 
 gathered fresh strength, and making a final effort had 
 got clean away from him? For a moment Ned thought 
 that it must be so, but the next his eye lighted upon 
 what looked like a great gray boulder, a boulder 
 though which had no snow upon it, and which moved 
 ever so little. Then as he rushed forward the gray 
 thing staggered to its knees, lurched heavily forward, 
 and lay still again. A few seconds later Ned Corbett's 
 hands clutched the solid crown of one who had been a 
 king amongst the high places of the earth. 
 
 But there was no time for rest, much less for exulta- 
 tion. The crifn,s(jn of the sotting sun wfis already 
 beginning to flush along the forest floors, and Ned, as 
 ho looked over the country below him, felt his heart 
 grow sick at the thought that if he returned as he 
 came he could not reach the hut before dark. 
 
 Was there no other way — no short cut? Ned rather 
 thought that there was, and determined to try it. 
 Instead of going up and down every gully on the face 
 of the range, he would make for the edge of the 
 divide and follow it round until he reached a point 
 opposite to his camp, then he would descend, taking 
 his chance of finding an easy way down. But before 
 
 : >• 
 
M! , 
 
 266 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO I'* 
 
 starting on his homeward journey, Ned hacked off the 
 head of his victim and bound it (a heavy load) upon 
 his own shoulders. If he had to stop out all night 
 and risk death by frost-bite, he might as well take 
 with him a souvenir of his hardships should he 
 be lucky enough to survive them. As for the meat, 
 Rampike and Steve could help him bring that in, 
 later on. If the coyoUa let it alone it would keep 
 well enough ; and Ned thought that a rag, which he 
 had drawn through his rifle barrels and fastened to 
 the carcase, would keep off the coyotes. 
 
 Having made his preparations he started, and toiled 
 steadily until he reached the ridge, where the walking 
 became infinitely easier. Ned had not much time to 
 look about him, but for all that his eyes were not shut, 
 and he could not help noticing one valley some dis- 
 tance away in the opposite direction to his camp. It 
 seemed to him that he had seen that valley before, but 
 it was far off, and the light was failing. 
 
 It was night when Ned reached the dug' out; there 
 was a harsh grinding sound down in the river bed, 
 and his clothes, which had been wet with perspiration, 
 were* frozen stiff and cold. But as he gazed at his 
 ram's head, Ned Corbett was content. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 PHONS RETURN. 
 
 THE day after Ned Corbett's sheep-hunt was too 
 cold even to go and bring in the carcase. A wind 
 had risen, not much of a wind it is true, but just 
 enough to drive the cold right through a man like 
 
phon's return. 
 
 267 
 
 Lcked off the 
 ' load) upon 
 ut all night 
 IS well take 
 should he 
 3r the meat, 
 ng that in, 
 would keep 
 ig, which he 
 fastened to 
 
 i, and toiled 
 the walking 
 uch time to 
 ere not shut, 
 sy some dis- 
 is camp. It 
 ^ before, but 
 
 out; there 
 river bed, 
 )erspiration, 
 azed at his 
 
 nt was too 
 e. A wind 
 but just 
 man like 
 
 blades of sharp steel, so that Ned and Steve and 
 Rampike remained in the dug-out, smoking and trying 
 to keep warm, or from time to time going to the door 
 to watch the great river gradually yielding to the 
 power of the frost. 
 
 The white scum of the day before had grown into 
 blocks and hummocks of ice, and these came down 
 grinding and roaring through the mist. In one more 
 night the great Frazer would be fettered for the winter. 
 
 In the mist which hung over the freezing waters, 
 everything assumed unnatural proportions. Rocks 
 loomed out like mountains, bushes like forest trees, 
 and a sneaking fox looked larger than a grizzly bear. 
 
 It was a weird scene, and it held Corbett and his 
 companions fascinated until the bitterness of the cold 
 drove them back for a few moments to their fire. 
 
 In this way they spent their day until nearly three 
 o'clock, when the light began to fail, and Corbett, who 
 was at the door, cried to Rampike,, who was inside the 
 hut: 
 
 " Great Scott, Jim, come here! What is that?" 
 
 "That" to which Corbett's pointing linger called 
 attention was a strange upright mass of ice, which 
 came riding towards them upon a little floe, a floe 
 which later on was caught and whirled round and 
 round in a backwater of the nver just below the 
 cabin. 
 
 "A tree, ain't it, Steve?" said Jim, appealing to 
 Chance, who had followed liim out. " A tree, I reckon, 
 Ned, as has got wedged in somehow among the drift." 
 
 " Yes, I guess it's a tree," Steve assented. " But what 
 with the mist and the way the thing dances around, 
 it's mighty hard to tell what it is." 
 
 " Well, I'm getting as full of fancies as a woman," 
 
 J 
 
"(1 ,1. I jivmif^nnpi 
 
 "^'^^^"^"^^^^■^""iBMiNHilii 
 
 268 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO 1" 
 
 said Ned, " but I could have sworn when I saw it first, 
 that that thing was a man." 
 
 "A man? By heaven, it -w a man!" yelled Jim. 
 " Look, look!" and with white, scared face he stared at 
 the thing as it came circling round again in the endless, 
 meaningless dance of the drift through the mist. 
 
 "If it's a man, it is no good standing here," said 
 Corbett quickly. " Bear a hand to drag him ashore." 
 And snatching a rope from the inside of the hut, he 
 sprang down the steep bank to the shore, though the 
 faces of his followers showed plainly enough that, 
 terrible as dead men always are to the living, there 
 was something about this river-waif which made him 
 a horror greater even than the dead who die on land. 
 
 By some strange chance the body (for it was a body) 
 had got jammed between two pieces of drift in such a 
 manner that it stood upright, waist-high above the 
 flood, bowing and curtseying with every movement of 
 the water, but so coated with ice that, but for its 
 general outline and a rag of clothing which still 
 fluttered from it, none could have guessed its nature. 
 
 For a moment Corbett feared that it would break 
 out of the backwater, and be whirled down the stream 
 before he could get his rope over it; but no, the stream 
 had not done with its plaything yet. The winter 
 would be a long one, and what matter if this wayfarer 
 by the Frazer tarried even a day and a night in the 
 backwater? The rocks had stayed there for hundreds 
 of years. There was no hurry about such things. 
 Round and round in the same order came the hum- 
 mocks, a bit of a wrecked canoe on one, on the next 
 only the wreck of a man. Round and round whirled 
 the long loop of Corbet's lariat, until the silent rider 
 came bowing past him within his reach. Then the 
 
phon's return. 
 
 269 
 
 saw it first, 
 
 yelled Jim. 
 he stared at 
 the endless, 
 mist. 
 
 here," said 
 
 im ashore." 
 
 the hut, he 
 
 though the 
 
 lOugh that, 
 
 Lving, ther« 
 
 L made him 
 
 ie on land. 
 
 (vas a body) 
 
 ft in such a 
 
 above the 
 
 ovement of 
 
 but for its 
 
 hich still 
 
 s nature. 
 
 uld break 
 
 the stream 
 
 he stream 
 
 |he winter 
 
 wayfarer 
 
 ht in the 
 
 hundreds 
 
 h things. 
 
 the hum- 
 
 the next 
 
 whirled 
 
 lent rider 
 
 hen the 
 
 rope flew out, and the long loop poised and settled 
 silently about the rider's neck. Quick as thought 
 Ned was jerked upon his knees, and for a moment it 
 seemed as if the angry river would suck him in and 
 add him to the number of its ghastly dancers. But 
 Ned was young and strong and loved life, so that he 
 stayed himself against a great boulder and called aloud 
 for help. 
 
 "Hold on to the rope!" he yelled to his comrade. 
 "The thing fights like a salmon!" 
 
 Do you know what it is to feel the electric thrill 
 which travels all down your spine when you stick in a 
 good fish ? do you know how his every struggle vibrates 
 along your own nerves, until your heart almost stops 
 with excitement ? If you do, you may be able to picture 
 what those three men felt as the frozen corpse plunged 
 and struggled on the rope, now sucked down by the 
 under-tow, now springing beneath the buffets of the 
 drifting ice. Ned shuddered and felt sick as he braced 
 himself against its unholy strength; but the Shrop- 
 shire breed is like the bull-dog's, once fast in anything 
 it will never let go whilst life lasts ; so that in spite of 
 the river, and the fear which chilled his marrow, Ned 
 persisted until he drew his ghastly capture hand over 
 hand to shore. 
 
 There is something very horrible in the helpless 
 way in which the head of a drowned man rolls about 
 when you lay him down once more upon dry land, but 
 even that is not so ghastly as were the actions of the 
 warped and rigid mummy which Corbett and his 
 friends carried to their cabin. 
 
 From the waist up the body was stiff" and straight, 
 but below the waist the legs had been frozen into such 
 strange curves and angles, that when they laid it down 
 
 I 
 
IWJT'fJW^ 
 
 M."!?!" 
 
 370 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO !" 
 
 Upon the floor the corpse went rolling and bumping 
 over and over, and then lay rocking to and fro as if it 
 would never be still. Every gust of wind set it in 
 motion again, and the horror of the thing grew to 
 such an extent that Ned at last rose, saying: 
 
 " I can't stand this, boys ; the thing seems to be 
 laughing at us. Let's flx it in a chair so as to keep it 
 still until morning." 
 
 "And what are you going to do with it, then?" 
 asked Chance. 
 
 " Bury it, I suppose, Steve. Oughtn't we to?" 
 
 "Wal, I don't want to dictate to no man, but ef 
 you're goin' to make a practice of bringing corpses to 
 this shanty, I quit," remarked Jim, who had been 
 strongly opposed to robbing the Frazer of its prey 
 from the first. 
 
 " Don't cut up rough, old chap. If your body was 
 going down in that seething hell of waters, you'd be 
 glad if anyone would drag you ashore and give you 
 decent burial. Let it bide until to-morrow, Jim, and 
 I'll bury it myself." 
 
 " ^'ery well. That's a go. Now just lend a hand 
 to cinch him on to this chair for the night, so as he 
 won't be crawlin' around in the dark;" and old Jim 
 with Ned's assistance fastened the body into a chair 
 which stood by the rough deal board which served 
 them for a table, and there left it. 
 
 Why is it that, to even the boldest men, the dead are 
 so very terrible? Is it their inhuman calm, their 
 silence, or the mystery to which they alone hold the 
 key, that awes and chills the hottest human heart? 
 Whatever the cause of it, the . nameless terror exists, 
 and neither strong Ned Corbett, nor scoffing Chance, 
 nor hard old Jim were proof against it. With that 
 
nd bumping 
 id fro as if it 
 nd set it in 
 ing grew to 
 ng: 
 
 seems to be 
 as to keep it 
 
 bh it, then?" 
 
 ve to?" 
 man, but ef 
 ig corpses to 
 10 had been 
 : of its prey 
 
 ur body was 
 jrs, you'd be 
 nd give you 
 )W, Jim, and 
 
 end a hand 
 ht, so as he 
 md old Jim 
 nto a chair 
 hich served 
 
 the dead are 
 
 |calm, their 
 
 le hold the 
 
 lan heart? 
 
 Irror exists, 
 
 ig Chance, 
 
 With that 
 
 phon's return. 
 
 J71 
 
 thing sitting in their one seat waiting for the morning 
 to come that it might be buried, all three men crept 
 away mto the furthest corner of their tiny shack, and, 
 trembling at every log which creaked and sputtered on 
 the hearth, covered their heads with their blankets 
 and prayed for daylight to come. 
 
 But the hours of the night are longer than those of 
 the day. The lesson-books say that the twenty-four 
 hours are all of the same length, just sixty minutes of 
 sixty seconds in each, but the lesson-books lie. Who 
 that has lain awake from midnight till dawn will 
 believe that the six hours before sunrise are no longer 
 than the six which succeed sunset ? Of course they are 
 longer, but the hours of that one night in the hillside 
 above the fast-freezing Frazer were the longest since 
 God made the world. 
 
 Down below the listeners could hear the grinding 
 and roaring of the frozen river, and the shriek of the 
 rising night wind as it tore through the deep canyons. 
 Now and again a loud report echoed in the stillness as 
 an ice-crack spread from side to side of some frozen 
 mountain lake, and all night long there were inarticu- 
 late murmurs and groanings of water prisoned beneath 
 ice, and the long howling of starved wolves amongst 
 the snow. 
 
 The Indians believe that their dead hunters assume 
 the forms of wolves, and if so, the whole of the dead 
 Chilcotins were out hunting, adding their hideous 
 voices to those other voices of the night, which had in 
 them noihii n; that was familiar, nothing that was in 
 sympathy ■•".•1 1 man or man's daily life. It seemed to 
 the sleepl.-H ..steners that their own souls had lost 
 their way and strayed into some waste place, where 
 it wa» always winter and always night, and then as 
 
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 they strained their ears so that they could hear the 
 l>eat of each others' hearts, a terrible thing happened. 
 
 It was only a chair which creaked, but the creaking 
 of it seemed to deaden every other sound, and nature 
 herself held her breath to listen. There it was again ! 
 Creak, creak, creak, and a scraping sound upon the mud 
 door. Unless the ears of three men had gone crazy with 
 fright, that grisly visitor of theirs was pushing its chaix 
 along the floor as if it would rise up and be gone. All 
 through the night the noises went on: the chair 
 creaked, the feet of the dead moved upon the floor, and 
 once in the dim light of early dawn, one who dared 
 to look for a moment, fancied that he saw a long lean 
 hand move slowly across the table. 
 
 Yet even fear yields at last to sleep, and before the 
 full dawn came there were four sleepers in that hut, 
 — three who should wake and one who should sleep on 
 for ever, and all four comrades, who for a little while 
 had pursued that will-o'-the-wisp. Wealth, together. 
 
 For the dead man was Phon! 
 
 The ice shroud which had hidden him before had 
 melted in the night, and the strength of the frost had 
 gone out of his poor dead limbs, and in the searching 
 white light of the day he lay huddled up on the chair, 
 his head fallen forward upon the table, and his body a 
 limp mass of faded blue rags. 
 
 Even before Ned raised his head they all knew him, 
 and when Ned pointed silently to a little dark spot at 
 the nape of the dead man's neck, no one expressed any 
 surprise. 
 
 There had been just such another mark at the nape 
 of dead Robert Roberts' neck. 
 
 "Twol" groaned Rampike. "My God, two of 'em, 
 and we ain't beginning to get level with him yet I" 
 
>r 
 
 ' could hear the 
 hing happened. 
 3ut the creaking 
 und, and nature 
 re it was again ! 
 id upon the mud 
 gone crazy with 
 )ushing its chaii 
 d be gone. All 
 on: the chair 
 3n the floor, and 
 one who dared 
 3aw a long lean 
 
 and before the 
 rs in that hut, 
 should sleep on 
 r a little while 
 th, together. 
 
 im beiore had 
 I the frost had 
 the searching 
 p on the chair, 
 ind his body a 
 
 all knew him, 
 e dark spot at 
 expressed any 
 
 k at the nape 
 
 1, two of *em, 
 him yet!" 
 
 ^HON'S RBTURN. 
 
 ing^tt menT^^^^^ "Po^*?^e previous even- 
 
 round their rough tebie^Lr"'^'"^ ^ ^^'^ wont, 
 
 tbeir P-e.Vand VerXn'P^^^^ ^> a book in 
 yai^s about it; but the ni/h^ Vf ^'^^* *^^ ™^e 
 three ha^ bent over it vHthmn ''\^^''''^ arrival all 
 interest, because ^edCtjT^ *^^. *^«^^ ^^^4 
 ^e had recognized atr^^ ^^^ '"^'^ '^' 
 
 J* waa just in front of thilm T" *^® '"^^^ ^dge. 
 been placed, when LIS "T^ *^^V^' cozpse h!d 
 chair for the night ^ ^ ^"'^^^^ i* into its 
 
 of liishandheindicatBd *l^; comprehensive wave 
 
 and the h^^^o^^S T^l^" '"''?■ «>« C 
 Ned and Steve a^S^HL^tf '*'" ""''^'^ ""e tabk 
 a?d the three ra^ i^ ^^^'J°^">^f^ assistance, 
 h'f.seat, but at the vTr^flr«t\?!!'^ '" ^''°n ^""n 
 whjle Chance cried out^ ^"^ "^ "^^k bacic, 
 
 *^mt>tSJht^^^''•"--ri«n,r 
 move or to spe^k XuZ^" ""^ '"^ "^We to 
 upon the map moved sl«^f T^ '**° '"«'J ^'"ch lay 
 f a clock, o? a sit '^t^^,. , I^i^e the fin^^ 
 «lowIy. slowly, and eveT 2^t tf '?'''' <=«>P' along 
 gwtmgof onelonguntrimmJ T' ^'^^ ''«ard thi 
 ^ It seemed to the^n"oX« 1^ .'^'"^ "^e canvas, 
 to travel across three inchro^ th. ^'^^ ^^ ''°»« 
 "np body gave a lurch wdl.M "ff ' ""* ""»" 'he 
 thud to the ground "^ '''"' a soft heavy 
 
 i>-£pL*dX^S2"a^ee"Xe'Lf''-''' «"* 'o"'* 
 (,8,, "axance of the body, out of which 
 
 a 
 
274 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO I" 
 
 all the rigid strength of the frost had now gone, so 
 that the slackened muscles left to themselves shrank 
 up and collapsed This was what really happened, but 
 to Rampike and the rest it seemed that the dead wrote. 
 
 " That's jest what he's come for. Thet's the way to 
 Pete's Crik as he's bin a showin' you, and thet's where 
 you'll find the man as shot him and old Bob. Bear a 
 hand, we can carry him out now. I guess there ain't 
 no call for him here any longer." And so saying Ham- 
 pike took hold of the corpse, and with Ned's assistance 
 bore it out and laid it down upon the snow. 
 
 Upon the map upon which Phon's dead hand had 
 rested there was a fine wet line drawn by his nail — a 
 line which led from the very spot where the dug-out 
 stood upon the bank of the Frazer, to a point upon the 
 right bank of the Chilcotin, a good deal to the north 
 of the spot at which Corbett believed that the gold- 
 camp lay. 
 
 Steve Chance took a pencil, and whilst the others 
 bore out the body he marked the line carefully, that 
 it might not dry up and vanish away. Even as he did 
 so, a wild cry which he knew well came from the bench 
 above the cabin. It began in a low key, and rose higher 
 and higher until it was like the wail of a banshee, then 
 it died away sullenly, and Steve heard Rampike's voice 
 outside the cabin calling to him: 
 
 " Come along and lend a hand, Steve. If we don't 
 bury him pretty soon those blasted wolves will get him." 
 
 Steve hurried out, and together the three tried hard 
 to make some sort of a grave for Phon in the hillside. 
 They might as well have tried to dig into adamant. 
 
 *' It ain't no good," growled Rampike at length; "and 
 if you jest bury him in the snow the wolves *11 get 
 him. Not as it matters much." 
 
peon's return. 
 
 275 
 
 now gone, so 
 jelves shrank 
 lappened, but 
 :Q dead wrote. 
 i's the way to 
 I thet's where 
 Kob. Bear a 
 ess there ain't 
 ) saying Ram- 
 ed's assistance 
 
 lOW. 
 
 [ead hand had 
 by his nail— a 
 re the dug-out 
 point upon the 
 al to the north 
 that the gold- 
 
 ^ilst the others 
 
 carefully, that 
 
 JEven as he did 
 
 [from the bench 
 
 md rose higher 
 
 banshee, then 
 Lampike's voice 
 
 If we don't 
 [swill get him." 
 hree tried hard 
 [in the hillside. 
 Ito adamant. 
 It length; "and 
 
 wolves '11 get 
 
 " We'd better put him back in the Frazer than leave 
 him here," said Ned. 
 
 " That's so. He cain't stay in the cabin now as he's 
 thawed out, but I ain't sure as we can get him back 
 agen into the river." 
 
 Jim was right. 
 
 The earth which the Chinaman had robbed of its 
 hidden treasure refused to receive him ; the friends he 
 had lived amongst would have none of him, now that 
 death's seal was upon him; and even the river, which 
 had spewed him up upon its banks, had now closed its 
 portals against him, so that it was only after half an 
 hour's hard labour that Chance and Corbett were able 
 to hew out a hole in the solid ice, through which to 
 send back its dead to the Frazer. 
 
 For one moment Ned Corbett stood with his hat in 
 his hand, looking up to the sky, wondering whither 
 the spark of life had gone and commending it to its 
 Creator, and then he pushed the body head first 
 through the hole. The ice round the spot where the 
 three men stood was clear and still fairly thin, so that 
 they saw, or thought that they saw, a face pressed 
 against it for a moment, staring with wild eyes towards 
 the world of the living, and then the stream caught it 
 and it shot down and was gone. 
 
 The man had dreamed all his life of the golden 
 secrets which lay in the bed of the mighty Frazer. He 
 had looked forward to the days when he should carry 
 the golden spoils of British Columbia to his own sunny 
 land; but fate had mastered him, and though his body 
 might roll amongst those golden sands, and his dead 
 hands touch the heavy nuggets, it would profit him 
 nothing. The dead have no need of gold ! 
 
J 
 
 ^.I 
 
 276 **QOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO I' 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 CRUICKSHANK AT LAST! 
 
 AFTER the burial of Phon there was no more rest 
 for the men in the " dug-out" The Frazer was 
 frozen hard, and offered a firm white way by which 
 the three outcasts might return to some place where 
 there were warmth and light and the voices of their 
 fellow-men. But none of the three cared to profit by 
 this way of escape. To them a mist seemed always to 
 hang over the river, and the voices of the dead came 
 to them through it; and to Ned Corbett it seemed that 
 day and night one mournful old tune rang in his ears, 
 and day and night Rampike polished his rifle and 
 thought of the "pal" he had lost, and the murderer 
 who had escaped him. 
 
 " It ain't no manner of use, Ned," he said one day 
 towards the end of winter, when the ice was already 
 breaking up. " I know as I might jest as well stay 
 another month, and then go with you to look for this 
 crik. But I cain't do it. Somethin' keeps callin' to 
 me to git, and I mean makin' a start to-morrow whether 
 you and Steve come or stay." 
 
 They had been together all through the dreary 
 winter, and had hoped to go out together in the spring, 
 back to that summer land by the sea from which they 
 had all come. They were weary for awhile of the rush 
 and struggle for wealth, and were pining for the smell 
 of the salt waves and the drowsy lap of the sea upon 
 the shore. They had talked over these things together 
 when the noonday was dark with falling snow, and 
 
CRUICK8HANK AT LAST! 
 
 277 
 
 no more rest 
 le Frazer was 
 ray by which 
 B place where 
 oicesof their 
 d to profit by 
 aed always to 
 he dead came 
 it seemed that 
 ng in his ears, 
 his rifle and 
 the murderer 
 
 said one day 
 fe was already 
 ft as well stay 
 
 look for this 
 leeps callin' to 
 
 )rrow whether 
 
 [h the dreary 
 in the spring, 
 Im which they 
 |ile of the rush 
 for the smell 
 the sea upon 
 lings together 
 ig snow, and 
 
 now that spring was at hand they little liked the idea 
 of being parted. 
 
 " Hold hard, old man," said Corbett. " Let us see if 
 we can't arrange to go together. Which way do you 
 think of going?" 
 
 " Thar's only one way, the way as he showed us," 
 answered Rampike, nodding over his shoulder towards 
 the river down which Phon had gone to his rest. 
 
 For a few minutes Corbett made no answer, but sat 
 staring fixedly out of the little window at the Frazer. 
 
 " It's infernal foolishness," he said at last — " infernal 
 foolishness, I know, and yet I feel as you do, Jim. I 
 shall never rest until I have tried Phon's way, I'm 
 getting as superstitious as a Siwash." 
 
 " Superstitious is a mighty long word, but it don't 
 amount to much. There's a heap of things happens 
 as you cain't account for." 
 
 "Perhaps," assented Ned, and then took up once 
 more Steve's ragged map of British Columbia, and 
 studied for the hundredth time the course traced upon 
 it by the dead man's nail. 
 
 " It runs south-south-east from here," he said. 
 
 " Yes, I know, and that'll be clar up that bluff" and <»n 
 to the divide, and then over a lot of gulches, I reckon, 
 until we strike the Chilcotin. It'll be a pretty rough 
 trail, you bet." 
 
 " Well, rough or smooth, Jim, if Steve doesn't mind 
 waiting here lor us, I'll come with you and start as 
 soon as you please. What do you say, Steve?" 
 
 Now Steve Chance, as the reader knows, was by 
 nature a decent obliging fellow, and, moreover, Steve 
 had had all the rough travel that he cared about for 
 years to come, so he answered readily enough. 
 
 " If you'll pass me your word that you'll be back 
 
 ' 
 
278 
 
 "QOU>, OOLD IN OARIBOOl" 
 
 SI 
 
 !t: 
 
 
 It i 
 
 inside of three weeks, I'll stay. But you don't expect 
 to see Cruickshank, I hope?" 
 
 " I know as we shall see him," said Rampike quietly. 
 " Summat tells me as his time's up." 
 
 The very next day Rampike and Corbett started up 
 the bluffs above the dug-out. Down below them the 
 ice in the Frazer was already beginning to " run," but 
 the snow on the mountain-sides lay hard and unmelted 
 still, so that travelling without snowshoes was fatigu- 
 ing in the last degree. From the top of the ridge the 
 two men got a good view of the country through which 
 they had to travel. The mountains, as far as they 
 could see, followed the course of the Frazer until its 
 junction with the Chilcotin, where they bent into a 
 kind of elbow ; in fact the two rivers and their attendant 
 mountains formed two sides of a triangle, between 
 which lay gulches and ravines innumerable, and the 
 base of this triangle was the course laid out for them 
 by Phon. 
 
 "Looks as if that Chinee corpse had bin laughin' 
 at us after all," muttered Rampike. "A man would 
 want wings to cross that coimtry." 
 
 "Never mind, let's try it, Jim," said Corbett; and 
 together the two men pressed on, floundering sometimes 
 up to their armpits in the deep snow, and sometimes 
 finding e.n easy way where the country at first sight 
 appeared impassable. 
 
 On the third day of their journey, towards evening, 
 they entered a narrow snow-choked canyon, which 
 seemed to lead through the second main ridge of moun- 
 tains to the Chilcotin. 
 
 As they entered this canyon Ned Corbett paused and 
 looked searchingly up and down it, as if looking for 
 some sign to distinguish it from its fellows. 
 
i don't expect 
 
 ipike quietly. 
 
 )tt started up 
 low them the 
 to "run," but 
 Eind unmelted 
 58 was fatigu- 
 the ridge the 
 hrough which 
 I far as they 
 'azer until its 
 / bent into a 
 tieir attendant 
 agle, between 
 'able, and the 
 out for thsm 
 
 bin laughin' 
 man would 
 
 Corbett; and 
 
 jng sometimes 
 
 id sometimes 
 
 kt first sight 
 
 irds evening, 
 lyon, which 
 Ige of moun- 
 
 |it paused and 
 looking for 
 
 ORUIOKSHANK AT LASTl 
 
 379 
 
 But he found none. Like a himdred others which 
 they had seen, this gully was deep and narrow and full 
 of snow. The pines which grew on its sides seemed 
 only just able to keep their heads above the white 
 flood. Somewhere far down below, no doubt, there 
 was a creek, which sang and flashed in the summer 
 sunlight; but it was buried now out of sight by the 
 snow and gagged by the frost 
 
 "Do you think you know this here place, Ned?" 
 asked Rampike, who had been watching his comrade's 
 face. 
 
 " I feel as if I did, and yet I can't see anything, Jim, 
 that I could swear to." 
 
 " I > that so? Well, it's no matter, because we must 
 stick to this canyon anyway. It leads out on to the 
 Chilcotin," replied the old man, and so saying he led on. 
 
 After a while he paused. 
 
 " Say, Ned, is that a sheep-trail across there on the 
 other side?" 
 
 Ned looked hard in the direction indicated, shading 
 his eyes with his hand to get a better view. 
 
 " It looks more like a bear's trail," he replied, " only 
 the bears are all holed up still." 
 
 " It's pretty well used, whatever it is, and I guess 
 we should find it a sight better travelling there than 
 it is here. Shall we try it?" 
 
 As it happened the snow was exceptioixally deep 
 where the two men stood, so that they sank up to their 
 knees at every step. A beaten trail of any kind would 
 therefore save them an infinite amount of labour. 
 
 "Yes, let's," said Ned, with the brusqueness of a man 
 who needs all his breath for other uses. 
 
 To get to the trail Corbett and Rampike had to cross 
 the canyon, and in places this was almost impossible, 
 
' I'i 
 
 U 
 
 H' 
 
 .. hi 
 
 III 
 
 280 
 
 «OOLD, OOLD IN CARIBOO t" 
 
 both men sinking from time to time almost out of sight 
 in the snow. 
 
 Twice Rampike voted that they should give up the 
 attempt, and twice Corbett persuaded him to go on. 
 
 At last, sweating and trembling with exertion, they 
 got clear of the worst of the snow and stood upon the 
 edge of the trail. 
 
 For a moment no one noticed anything. They were 
 both too tired to use their eyes even. Then a sudden 
 gleam of triumph flashed into Rampike's face, and he 
 swore savagely between his teeth, as he was wont to 
 do when anything moved him deeply. Bending over 
 the trail he scrutinized it carefully, fingering the soiled 
 snow, and making an impression with his own foot that 
 he might compare it with the tracks before him. 
 
 When he raised his face to Corbett's he had regained 
 all his old coolness, but there was a cold glitter in his 
 eyes which spoke of repressed excitement. 
 
 " What is it, Jim?" asked Corbett. 
 
 "What is it? Don't you see? Ifs the trail of the 
 bar we've bin' huntin' this long while, that's what it is. 
 I suppose we'd better toss for the shot" 
 
 The trail was the trail of a man. The moment Cor- 
 bett looked carefully at it he saw that; and yet, cold- 
 blooded as it seemed to him afterwards, he never hesi- 
 tated for a moment, but when Rampike produced a 
 coin and sent it spinning into the air, cried " Heads!" 
 with all the eagerness of a boy tossing for first innings 
 in a cricket match. 
 
 "Tails it is! That thar is a lucky coin to me," 
 said Rampike; "that's why I always pack it around." 
 And so saying he replaced an old English shilling in 
 his pocket and began exavnining the lock of his 
 Winchester, whilst Ned looked anxiously up and down 
 
CaUICKSHANK AT LAST! 
 
 281 
 
 out of sight 
 
 give up the 
 I to go on. 
 certion, they 
 )od upon the 
 
 They were 
 len a sudden 
 face, and he 
 was wont to 
 Bending over 
 ng the soiled 
 )wn foot that 
 re him. 
 had regained 
 glitter in his 
 
 trail of the 
 b's what it is. 
 
 Qoment Cor- 
 nd yet, cold- 
 never hesi- 
 produced a 
 id "Heads!" 
 rst innings 
 
 loin to me," 
 
 it around." 
 
 shilling in 
 
 )ck of his 
 
 and down 
 
 the valley as if he expected every moment to see their 
 foe come into sight. 
 
 "Oh, no fear of his comin' just yet awhile," said 
 Jim, noticing his comrade's glances. " He went up the 
 canyon about an hour ago, and I don't reckon as he'll 
 be along this way agen before morning. I wonder 
 what he's up to, anyway?" 
 
 To men like Rampike and Corbett the testimony of 
 the trail upon which they stood put some facts beyond 
 all dispute. That some man who wore moccasins used 
 it at least twice a day, and had so used it for a month 
 past, they knew as certainly as they knew anything,'. 
 That he had passed along the trail within the hour 
 they also knew, and that he was Cruickshank they 
 guessed with a confidence which left no room for 
 doubt. 
 
 ** I guess, Ned, as this here must be Pete's Crik as 
 we've got into." 
 
 "That is what I've been thinking for some time," 
 replied Ned. 
 
 " Then that's his trail to the diggings from the river. 
 But what does he want at the river so often? That 
 licks me." 
 
 As Ned had no explanation to offer, the two stood 
 silent for a moment, until the old man's eyes fell upon 
 the tracks which he and Ned had made across the 
 canyon. 
 
 " If we don't hide those we shall scare our game," he 
 muttered. " Lend a hand, Ned, to cover some of them 
 up. 
 
 " I guess that'll do," he admitted, after half an hour's 
 hard work. "Looks as if a bar had come across until 
 he smelled them tracks of his and then turned back 
 agen. Cruickshank '11 never notice, anyway, so we 
 
 ! 
 
 « 
 
283 
 
 Vi 
 
 Si 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO 1' 
 
 may as woU f oiler this trail to the river. Step careful 
 into his tracks, Ned. I'd like to see what he has been 
 at on the river." 
 
 These were the last words spoken by either Corbett 
 or Rampike for quite half an hour, during which they 
 followed one another in Indian file, stepping carefully 
 into the same footprints, so that to anyone but a 
 skilled tracker, it would appear at first sight that only 
 one man had used the trail. 
 
 At the end of half an hour they paused. The roaring 
 of a great river was in their ears, and the grinding of 
 a drift ice. 
 
 " That's the Chilcotin," whispered Corbett. 
 
 " The Frazer, more like," replied Rampike. " Yes, I 
 thought as much," he added a moment later as he came 
 round a corner of the bluff round which the trail ran. 
 *' We've struck the junction of them two rivers. This 
 creek runs in pretty nigh the mouth of the Chilcotin." 
 
 Almost whilst he was yet speaking, Corbett caught 
 the speaker by the belt and dragged him down in the 
 snow at his side. 
 
 In spite of the suddenness and roughness of such 
 treatment the old man uttered no protest. The ques- 
 tion he wanted to ask was in his eyes as he turned his 
 head cautiously and looked into his comrade's face, but 
 with his lips he made no sound. 
 
 Putting his lips to Jim's ear, Ned whispered: "There's 
 a canoe just below us on the beach, lie still whilst I 
 take a look at it;" and then he crawled away upon his 
 belly until he could peer from behind a boulder on the 
 sky-line, at the valley below. 
 
 In that valley, between steep banks and piles of 
 great ice- worn boulders, the last two hundred yards of 
 the Chilcotin river rushed by to join the Frazer, and 
 
ORUIOKSHAMK AT LASTl 
 
 283 
 
 Step careful 
 b he has been 
 
 ither Corbett 
 g which they 
 ling carefully 
 tnyone but a 
 ght that only 
 
 The roaring 
 le grinding of 
 
 )et.t. 
 
 ►ike. "Yes, I 
 ber as he came 
 the trail ran. 
 
 rivers. This 
 he Chilcotin." 
 orbett caught 
 
 down in the 
 
 mess of such 
 The ques- 
 he turned his 
 ide's face, but 
 
 jred: "There's 
 still whilst I 
 ay upon his 
 ulder on the 
 
 [and piles of 
 red yards of 
 Frazer, and 
 
 amongst these boulders, at the very edge of the open 
 water, lay a rough Indian canoa 
 
 At the side of the canoe the trail stopped. 
 
 " So that's the carcase as we have to watch," said 
 Bampike's voice in Ned's ear. "There's no need to 
 keep down, lad, he ain't here. Let's go along the 
 trail and take a look." And so saying Rampike rose 
 and walked down to the canoe. 
 
 The sight which there met his eyes and Ned's struck 
 both men dumb for a while . ith wonder. 
 
 What they saw was the work of one man, in one 
 winter, without proper tools, without sufficient food, 
 and with the awful otius against him of place and 
 weather. 
 
 " The devil fights hard for his own," muttered Ned; 
 and indeed it seemed as if one man, unaided by super- 
 natural powers, could not have accomplished what 
 this man had done. 
 
 Corbett forgot that the greed of gold is almost 
 a supernatural power. Out of the trunk of a tree, 
 felled by his own hands, the man who dwelt in this 
 snow-choked canyon had made himself a canoe, his 
 one tool the blade of his axe. The canoe so built was 
 neither beautiful nor strong, but it was just strong 
 enough for a fearless man to risk his life in, and beau- 
 tiful enough, when it had its cargo on board, to tempt 
 nine men out of ten to risk their souls to obtain it. 
 
 For the cargo of that canoe was the world's desire 
 — the omnipotent, all-purchasing gold! In a hundred 
 small sacks this cargo was stored away, each sack 
 made either of deer-skin or the clothes of the man 
 who made them. He had risked his life and sacrificed 
 the blood of others to get the yellow dust, and now he 
 gave the very clothes from off his back, in spite of the 
 
284 
 
 **OOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO !" 
 
 bittei winter cold, to make sacks to save it in. As 
 Ned looked and counted the sacks, and thought of old 
 Roberts and Phon, of the money wasted and the toil 
 unrewarded, he sighed. For the first time he regretted 
 that he had lost the toss. 
 
 "Wal, come on, Ned," said Rampike, breaking in 
 upon this train of thought suddenly, "I'm goin' to 
 watch right here. It's mighty lucky as we came when 
 we did. That fellow means to skip as soon as ever 
 the river clears." 
 
 Ned said nothing, but in silence followed his com- 
 panion to a lair behind a great block of gray stone, 
 from which they could look down upon the trail 
 opposite to them. 
 
 " I guess it's safest here, though if the ice breaks up 
 a bit more we sha'n't be able to get back if we want 
 to," said Rampike; for in order to reach a position 
 which commanded Cruickshank's trail, Rampike had 
 led the way across the river, stepping warily across 
 the ice, which was already split up into great pieces, 
 which ground against each other and moved slowly 
 with the stream. 
 
 " It's not more than a hundred yards, I reckon, and 
 I'll back her to shoot good that far, even by moon- 
 light," were the last words which Rampike muttered 
 as he drew a bead upon an imaginary figure on tne 
 trail across the river, and after this silence came and 
 wrapped the two men round. 
 
 All through the gloaming and the night, even until 
 the dawn, there was only a great gray stone which 
 stood upon one side of the Chilcotin and looked down 
 upon the trail on the other side. 
 
 There was no movement anywhere save the move- 
 ment of the ice in the river and of the moon as she rose 
 
 F I 
 
3 it in. As 
 )ught of old 
 and the toil 
 he regretted 
 
 breaking in 
 [*m goin' to 
 3 came when 
 30on as ever 
 
 ved his com- 
 : gray stone, 
 ion the trail 
 
 ce breaks up 
 
 £ if we want 
 
 5h a position 
 
 lampike had 
 
 arily across 
 
 great pieces, 
 
 lOved slowly 
 
 reckon, and 
 en by moon- 
 Ike muttered 
 figure on tne 
 pe came and 
 
 even until 
 jtone which 
 )oked down 
 
 |e the move- 
 as she rose 
 
 CRUIOKSHANK AT LAST! 
 
 285 
 
 and sank again in the clear night sky, nor was there 
 any sound save the grinding of the ice as it broke into 
 smaller and yet smaller pieces, and was borne along to 
 join the hurtling mass which was hurrying down the 
 Frazer. 
 
 At first the shadows crept out into the valley, and 
 one who was watching them gripped his rifle hard, and 
 his breath came thick and fast. Again the moon rose 
 and the shadows fled, and all was white and motionless 
 and dumb. After this it grew darker again; the moon 
 had gone and a chill wind made the watchers shiver, 
 a-ad one of them drew a white thread out of the 
 material of his coat, and doubled it and tied it round 
 the muzzle of his rifle, so that it made a great knot 
 where the sight was, serviceable instead of a sight 
 in the half darkness. The wind was cold, and the 
 watchers* clothes were rigid with frost, but Rampike's 
 fingers scarcely trembled as he tied that knot, and his 
 face was firm and cold as ice. 
 
 At last there was a sound far away up the canyon. 
 *' Crunch crunch, crunch crunch," it sounded with a 
 regularity unlike any sound in nature. It was no 
 rolling of the rocks, no creaking of the frozen pines, 
 not even the tread of any beast of prey. It was the 
 step of a man, and colonel or no colonel, the man 
 whose tread echoed in that wintry dawn, brought with 
 him to his doom some traces of that early training 
 which had come to him from the drill-sergeant. In 
 thu streets of a great city a hundred men may pass 
 and no one hears their tread, or knows that he hears it, 
 and yet in spite of the roaring of the rivers and the 
 grinding of the ice, this one man's tread, even in the 
 snow, seemed like the tread of an army, and the sound 
 of it grew and grew until Corbett knew that the 
 
 
286 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO 1" 
 
 heavens heard it, and that its vibrations were echoed 
 in hell. 
 
 At the last they saw him, this man richer than all 
 other men, this man yellow with gold and crimson 
 with other men's blood, and what they saw was a 
 wan, ragged figure, worn to a mere skeleton, its 
 shoulders bent, plodding heavily along with the last 
 load of yellow dust, stolen from Pete's Creek, hanging 
 heavily in its hands. 
 
 For a moment Corbett doubted if this could really 
 be that same stalwart, smooth-tongued knave who had 
 jockeyed him out of his dollars for three useless claims, 
 but a sharp metallic " clink " upon the rock beside him 
 called him back to himself and reminded him that 
 Bampike had no doubts even if he had. 
 
 Inch by inch Ned saw the long barrel of the Win- 
 chester pushed out over the rock, until it rested firmly, 
 its deadly muzzle dark in the dim light of dawn. 
 
 Slowly Bampike lowered his head until his cheek 
 lay against the cold metal and his eye trained the 
 weapon upon the man who for gold had not hesitated 
 to kill two of his fellows. 
 
 One more beat of his heart and he too would feel 
 the kiss of the cold lead and go whither those others 
 had gone. 
 
 "My God, I can't do it! — Cruickshank !" cried 
 Corbett, and as he cried out he sprang to his feet and 
 threw up Bampike's rifle. 
 
 "Cruickshank!" the cry startled the silence, so that 
 all nature seemed to shudder at the sound, and 
 *' Cruickshank!" "Cruickshank!" the rocks repeated 
 until the sound died away amongst the snows at the 
 head of the canyon. 
 
 At the first sound of that cry he whose name it was 
 
I were echoed 
 
 icher than all 
 and crimson 
 
 y saw was a 
 skeleton, its 
 
 with the last 
 
 /reek, hanging 
 
 s could really 
 nave who had 
 useless claims, 
 >ck beside him 
 ded him that 
 
 I of the Win- 
 ; rested firmly, 
 of dawn. 
 
 til his cheek 
 trained the 
 
 not hesitated 
 
 too would feel 
 those others 
 
 lank !" cried 
 his feet and 
 
 lence, so that 
 sound, and 
 ;ks repeated 
 mows at the 
 
 name it was 
 
 ORUIOKSHANK AT LAST! 
 
 287 
 
 stopped, and as he turned to look across the river the 
 white light of dawn came down and struck him across 
 the face, so that those who looked could see the lines 
 graven on it by fear and hunger and remorse, and then 
 his hands went wildly up towards heaven and he fell. 
 
 The path which he had trodden so often crossed at 
 this place a sheer slope of hardened snow, in which he 
 had cut footsteps for himself, narrow indeed, but 
 sufficient for the safety of a careful man. Until now 
 he had never slipped or dreamed of slipping, and yet 
 now with that cry in his ear, with the last load of 
 gold in his hand, with the river almost clear enough 
 for flight, he slipped and fell. Those who looked saw 
 only a face full of mad fear, they heard only thf clang 
 of the metal wash-pan, which he wore as miners wear it, 
 at his belt, and then, quick as the first ray of the dawn 
 shoots across the mountain-side, Cruickshank shot 
 down that ice-slope, and with a dull heavy plunge, sank 
 in the ice-choked river. 
 
 For minutes, which seemed hours, the two men who 
 lay behind the rock neither spoke nor moved, only 
 they stared with wide eyes at the empty trail where 
 he had stood, and the jostling hummocks of ice in the 
 river amongst which he sank. 
 
 " Wal," said Rampike at last, "that's all, and I guess 
 we take the pot." And he turned to where the canoe 
 full of gold, the price of three men's lives, lay alone in 
 the gray light of dawn. 
 
 Even as he spoke the canoe moved. Some will say 
 that the ice on which it rested had been sucked away 
 by the rising river, and that so, it slid down naturally 
 and was borne along with all the other river waifs, 
 — dead pines and dead men's bodies. 
 
 But Rampike, who saw the thing, says that hands 
 
288 
 
 "GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO !" 
 
 like the hands of the dead laid hold upon it and drew 
 it away. 
 
 Then they watched it drift out amongst the ice into 
 the Frazer, and there for a while the great river played 
 with it, and moaned and laughed over it by turns, and 
 then it sank, and the gold that was in it, and the sin 
 which that gold begot, are a portion of the load which 
 the old river is so glad to lay down as she rushes into 
 the salt sea beyond the sand-heads at New West- 
 minster, 
 
 L* envoi. 
 
 My story is told, and the days which I wrote of 
 have passed away, but something is still left to remind 
 old-timers of the rush of '62. Pete's Creek is still 
 yielding a fair return for work done upon it by a 
 company, whose chairman is our old friend, Steve 
 Chance, but such pockets as that found under Phon's 
 boulder have never been found again. 
 
 As for Ned Corbett, he is a rancher now on those 
 yellow Chilcotin uplands, and the gold which pleases 
 him best is that left by the sun upon his miles and 
 miles of sweet mountain grass. If others have more 
 gold, Ned has all that gold can purchase by the Frazer 
 or elsewhere, work which he loves, and such health, 
 spirits, and moderate wealth as should satisfy an honest 
 maa 
 
1 it and drew 
 
 at the ice into 
 t river played 
 , by turns, and 
 t, and the sin 
 ihe load which 
 he rushes into 
 t New West- 
 
 ch I wrote of 
 
 I left to remind 
 
 Creek is still 
 
 upon it by a 
 
 friend, Steve 
 
 I under Phon's 
 
 now on those 
 which pleases 
 his miles and 
 irs have more 
 I by the Frazer 
 such health, 
 :;isf y an honest 
 
 BLACKIE & SON Limited 
 
 A LIST OF STORY BOOKS 
 :: FOR BOYS AND GIRLS :: 
 
 BooKs hy G. A.. Henty 
 
 Beautifully Illustrated, Elegantly Bound 
 
 SIX SHILLING SERIES 
 
 By Conduct and Cottragei The Days of Nelson. 
 
 Thfough Three Campaigns: Ashanti and Chitral. 
 
 With the Allies to Pekin: The Relief of the Legations. 
 
 With Kitchener in the Sottdan: Atbara and Omdurman. 
 
 With the British Legion; The Carlist Wars. 
 
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 At the Point of the Bayonet: The Mahratta War. 
 
 With BtiUef in Natal: The South African War. 
 
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 Won by the Sword: The Thirty Years' War. 
 
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 At Agincourt: The White Hoods of Paris. 
 
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 The Tiger of Mysore: The War with Tippoo Saib. 
 
 Wttlf the Saxon: The Norman Conquest. 
 
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 Through the Sikh War: The Conquest of the Punjaub. 
 
 Beric the Briton: The Roman Invasion of Briton. 
 
A. Hcnty's Books — Continued 
 
 'i\]\ 
 
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 m 
 
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 With Lee in Virginia: The American Civil War. 
 
 Bonnie Prince Charlie: Fontenoy and CuUoden. 
 
 By Right of Conquest: With Cortez in Mexico. 
 
 With Wolfe in Canada: The Fall of Quebec. 
 
 With Clivc in India: The Birth of an Empire. 
 
 Under Drake's Flag: The Spanish Main. 
 
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 dence. 
 
 FIVE SHILLING SERIES 
 
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 To Herat and Cabul: The First Afghan War. 
 
 Out with Garibaldi: The Liberation of Italy. 
 
 For Name and Fame: Roberts at Cabul. 
 
 No Surrender! The Rising in La Vendue. 
 
 At Aboukir and Acre: The French in Egypt. 
 
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 On the Irrawaddy: The First Burmese War. 
 
 Through Russian Snows: Napoleon's Retreat from Mos- 
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 In the Heart of the Rockies: Adventure In Colorado. 
 
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 A Final Reckoning: Bush Life in Australia. 
 
 St. George for England: Cressy and Poitiers. 
 
 By Sheer Pluck: The Ashanti War. 
 
 Condemned as a Nihilist: A Story of Escape from Siberia. 
 
 See also js, 6d, Seriet 
 
 I J 
 
ttintied 
 
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 Plains. 
 :pedition. 
 :ivil War. 
 [i^ulloden. 
 1 Mexico. 
 Quebec. 
 Empire, 
 n. 
 
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 t 
 
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 in War. 
 F Italy. 
 >ul. 
 d6e. 
 
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 surrection. 
 5 War. 
 
 etreat from Mos- 
 
 ire in Colorado. 
 Iden. 
 
 Gibraltar. 
 I War. 
 
 devolution. 
 
 Igh in Spain. 
 
 ]tralia. 
 
 loitiers. 
 
 :ape from Siberia. 
 
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 Large Crown Svo^ cloth extra. Beautifully Illustrated 
 
 How Gmada was Won: Wolfe and Quebec. By Capt. 
 F. S. Brbrbton. 
 
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 F. S. Brbrbton. 
 
 Roger the Bold: Conquest of Mexico. By Capt. F. S. 
 Brbrbton. 
 
 A Knight of St. John: Siege of Malta. By Capt. F. S. 
 Brbrbton. 
 
 Foes of the Red Cockade: French Revolution. By Capt. 
 F. S. Brbrbton. 
 
 With the Dyaks of Borneo: A Tale of the Head Hunters. 
 By Capt. F. S. Brbrbton. 
 
 The White Trail: Early Days of Klondike. By Alex- 
 ander Macdonald. 
 
 The Pearl Seekers: Southern Seas. By Alexander 
 Macdonald. 
 
 The Lx)st Explorers: Australia. By Alexander Mac- 
 donald. 
 
 The Great White Chief: Unknown New Guinea. Robert 
 Macdonald. 
 
 The Adventures of Harry Rochester: Marlborough and 
 Eugene. By Herbert Strang. 
 
 Boys of the Light Brigade: The Peninsular War. By 
 Herbert Strang. 
 
 A Middy in Command: The Slave Squadron. By Harry 
 Collingwood. 
 
 With Airship and Submarine: A Tale of Adventure. 
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 The Diamond Seekers: A Story of Adventure in South 
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 Lords of the World. By A. J. Church. 
 
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 illustrations. By Paul Danby. 
 
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 other illustrations. By Cuthbert Haoden. 
 
U-^ ! 
 
 
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 By Capt. F. S. Brerbton. 
 
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 Capt. F. S. Brerbton. 
 
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 By Capt. F. S. Brerbton. 
 
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 In the King's Service: A Tale of Cromwell's Invasion 
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 With Rifle and Bayonet: A Story of the Boer War. 
 By Capt. F. S. Brerbton. 
 
 The Quest of the Black Opals: A Story of Adventure 
 in Australia. By Alex. Macdonald. 
 
 Mr. Midshipman Glover, R*N*: The Royal Navy of 
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 Brown of Moukden: A Story of the Russo-Japanese 
 War. By Herbert Strang. 
 
 Kcho: A Story of the Russo-Japanese War. By Herbert 
 
 Strang. 
 Tom Bumaby* By Herbert Strang. 
 
 Under the Flag of France: A Story of Du Guesclin. By 
 David Kbr. 
 
 Across the Spanish Main: A Tale of the Sea. By Harry 
 
 COLLINGWOOD. 
 
 The Disputed V*C* By Frederick P. Gibbon, 
 
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Boys 
 
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 S. Brereton. 
 >f tl^e Spanish- 
 
 ERETON. 
 
 Crimean War. 
 I well's Invasion 
 
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 the Boer War. 
 
 of Adventure 
 
 ^oyal Navy of 
 ^NS, R.N. 
 Lusso-Japanese 
 
 |. By Herbert 
 
 Guesclin. By 
 sa. By Harry 
 Ibbon. 
 
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 Cynthia's Bonnet Shop* ^y Rosa Mulholland. [5^.] 
 
 Daughters of tfic Dominion. By Bessie Marchant. [5;.] 
 
 Sisters of ^ver Ctvk, By Bessie Marchant. [55.] 
 
 The Romance of 'V'oman's Influence. By Alice Corkran. 
 
 Girl Gmuades. By Ethel F. Heddle. [6;.] 
 
 Strangers in the Land. By Ethel F. Heddle. [6j.] 
 
 A Mystery 6i St. Rule's. By Ethel F. Heddle. [6s.] 
 
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 Christabel Mrs. Albert G. Latham 
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 Rosa Mulholland 
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 A Heroine of the Sea 
 
 Bessie Marchant 
 Betty's First Term L. F. Wevill 
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 The Dragon and the Raven 
 
 The Cat of Bubastes 
 
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 Both Sides the Border 
 
 Condemned as a Nihilist 
 
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 A Chapter of Adventures \ 
 
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 A Rough Shaking 
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 Dick o' the Fens 
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 Quicksilver I 
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 Alexander Macdonald 
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 Charles Kenjron 
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 Lords of the World A. j. Church 
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 Harry Collingwood 
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 Every Inch a Briton 
 
 Meredith Fletcher 
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 Sheila E. Braine 
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 Boyhood of a Naturalist Fred Smith 
 
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 Capt. Brereton 
 rraders 
 
 Alexander Macdonald 
 1 and Sky 
 
 Charles Kenjron 
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 Elscott Lynn 
 e of his C9ium 
 I W. C. Rhoades 
 
 'aces W. C. Rhoades 
 Cmiser 
 
 Cutcliife Hyne 
 )ark Mountains 
 
 David Ker 
 World A. J. Church 
 Lilian Flag 
 
 Harry Collingwood 
 Flying Fish" 
 
 Harry Collingwood 
 Briton 
 
 Meredith Fletcher 
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 Automaton 
 
 Sheila E. Braine 
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 aturalist Fred Smith 
 
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 Mother Carey's Chicken 
 
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 Menhardoo 
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 Patience Wins 
 Boys of Wynport College 
 
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 Wreck of the "Oolden Fleece" 
 
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 The Disputed V.C. Fred. P. Gibbon 
 An Ocean Outlaw Hugh St. Leger 
 Congo Boyers Harry Collingwixxl 
 Borer's Secret Harry Collingwood 
 
 Missing Merchantman 
 
 Marry Collingwood 
 The Pirate Island H. Collingwood 
 Under Hatches Frankfort Moore 
 Highways and High Seas F. Moore 
 For Life and Liberty Ciordon Stables 
 To Greenland and the Pole 
 
 Dr. Stables 
 Westward with Columbus 
 
 Dr. Stables 
 'Twixt School and College 
 
 Dr. Stables 
 Grettir the Outlaw S. Raring-Gould 
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 Gulliver's Travels Jonathan Swift 
 
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 Picked up at Sea John C. Hutcheson 
 With the Sea Kings F. H. Winder 
 Carbineer and Scout E. H. Barrage 
 A Trek and a Laager Jane Spettigue 
 The Hermit Hunter Gordon Subles 
 
 Search for the Talisman H. Frith 
 Press-Gang Days Edgar Pickering 
 Dr. Jolliffe's Boys Louis Hough 
 Grit will Tell R. Stead 
 
 Boys of the Priory School 
 
 F. Coombe 
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 Historic Boys E. \i. Brooks 
 
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 Hugh Herbert's Inheritance 
 
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 Nutbrown Roger and I J. H. Yoxall 
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 A'Warrior King J. Evdyn 
 
 The White Squall J. C. Hutcheson 
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 Dick Chester G. I. Wbitham 
 
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 War of the Axe J. P. Groves 
 
 Brothers in Arms F. B. Harrison 
 Hal Hungerford J. R. Hutchinson 
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 T 
 
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 Three Oirle on a Ranch B. Marchant 
 Talei of Indian Chivalry 
 
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 In WUd Maratha Battle 
 
 Michael Macmillan 
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 Molly and her Brothers Mabel Earle 
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 Charles W. Whistler 
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 Knight of the Care W. O'Byme 
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 Stories of Old Renown Ascott Hope 
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 AdTentnxea In Field, Flood, and 
 
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 Famous DisooTerles h7 Sea and 
 
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 A UtUe Irish Girl J. M. CallweU 
 Those TwinsI E. D. Adams 
 
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 Alice Corkran 
 Langh and Lean J. Humphreys 
 
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 Dorothy's Dilemma Caroline Austin 
 Wreck of "Nancy Bell" Hutcheson 
 Thomdyke Manor MaryC. Rowsdl 
 Terrie's Travels Jennie Chappell 
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 Margery Morton's Oirlhood 
 
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 Tbings will Take a Turn 
 
 Beat I ice Harraden 
 White Lilac Amy Walton 
 
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 Daddy Samuels' Darling 
 
 Mrs. Martin 
 
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 Queen of the Daffodils Leslie Laing 
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 Mrs. Clarke 
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 Mrs. Whitney 
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 What Kat: Did Susan Coolidge 
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 English Poetry for the Tonng 
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 A. H. Stirling 
 Whispering Winds 
 
 Mary H. Debenham 
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 Best of Intentions G. Mockler 
 
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 Box of Stories Horace Happyman 
 Olive and Robin Mrs. Martin 
 
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 Pedlar and his Dog Mary Rowsell 
 Mystery of the Manor House 
 
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 Miss Orantley's GJrls 
 
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 Mona's Trust Penelope Leslie 
 
 Grannie Elizabeth J. Lysaght 
 
 Doris's High School Days C. March 
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 The " Saucy May " Henry Fr 
 A Terrible Coward Manville Feil 
 A Chum Worth Having F. Coomi 
 Edwy A. Lystj 
 
 Battlefield Treasure F. B. Harrisc 
 An Unexpected Hero E. J. Lysag]| 
 Chips and Chops R. Neis 
 
 Hammond's Hard Lines Kuppor 
 Captain Cur ley's Boy I. Homibrool 
 Our Frank Amy Walto( 
 
 A Soldier's Son Annette Lystc 
 Wild Meg and Wee Dickie Rope 
 Waif of the Sea Kate Woo< 
 
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 Little Jimmy D. Rice- J one: 
 
 The Troubles and Triumphs o 
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 May, Guy, and Jim E. D. Adams 
 The Hawthorns Amy Walton 
 
 That Examination Paper I 
 
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 Dulcie King M. Corbet-Seymour 
 Madge's Mistake 
 
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 Late Miss Hollingford 
 
 R. MulhoUand 
 A Bash Promise Cecilia S. Lowndes 
 A Pair of Clogs Amy Walton 
 
 Susan Amy Walton 
 
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 Tom Finch's Monkey J. Hutcheson 
 By Order of Queen Maud L. Crow 
 Our General J. Lysaght 
 
 Warner's Chase Annie S. Swan 
 Climbing the Hill Annie S. Swan 
 Into the Haven Annie S. Swan 
 In Days of Prince Hal H. Elrington 
 Nelson's Campaigns W. O'C. Morris 
 A Cmise in Cloudland Henry Frith 
 Brave and True Gregson Gow 
 
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 e Sea Kate Wood 
 
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 >Ies and Triuxaphs of 
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 > of Mrs. Wishing-to-be 
 Alice Corkran 
 and Jim E. D. Adams 
 oms Amy Walton 
 
 ination Paper I 
 
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 : M. Corbet-Seymour 
 stake 
 
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 lollingford 
 
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 sage Emma Leslie 
 Sowed Emma Leslie 
 Monkey J. Hutcheson 
 ^ueenMaud L. Crow 
 J. Lysaght 
 ftse Annie S. Swan 
 Hill Annie S. Swan 
 en Annie S. Swan 
 Ince Hal H. Elrington 
 >aigns W. O'C. Morris 
 oudland Henry Frith 
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 A Saxon Maid E. F. Pollard 
 
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 That Boy Jim Mrs. Henry Clarke 
 Three Troublesome Monkeys 
 
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 Teddy's Ship A. B. Romney 
 
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 Irma's Zither Edith King Hall 
 The Island of Befage M. Mackness 
 Adventures of a Leather Purse 
 
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 Prince Jon's Pilgrimage 
 
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 In the Gipsies' Van E. Lesll 
 
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 Little Hero Mrs. Musgravl 
 
 Shucks: A Story for Boys I 
 
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 Mother's Uttle Lady E. K. Hall 
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 UtUe Eric 
 
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