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"Gold, Gold, in Cariboo!

Gold, Gold, in Cariboo!

A Story of

Adventure in British Columbia

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

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;

ILLUSTRATIONS

Page
♦'Gold— Gold in Flakes, and Lumps, and Ndoobts" Frotia. ?10

CORBETT SEIZES HIS ONE CHANCE 70R LiFE

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

"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.

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.

"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

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

"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,

THE GOLD FEVER.

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

**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.

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

"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.

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

"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.

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."

•'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.

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.

, 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."

'fr-

!. -'^

"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

k "gilt-edged" speculation.

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-

"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.

)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

"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.

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

*'<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.

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^^

"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)

"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.

■'■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

\l^

"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."

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A UTTLE QAMB OF POKER.

"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

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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

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

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"GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO 1"

m < f

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.

" 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.

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"GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO 1"

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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

THB MOTHER OF QOLD.

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,

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"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.'

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-

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*'<!OLD, OOLD IN CARIBOO 1"

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'

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

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"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."

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)

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*'OOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO !"

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."

Ithe
md

" 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."

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"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.

CHAPTER V.

"IS THE COLONEL 'STRAIGHT?

f»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?'"

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

i,i

"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

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 ;
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"GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO!"

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?'"

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

**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

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

!S HI

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"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'"

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

111

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«OOLD, GOLD IN OARIBOOl"

''J

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>

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

"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

THE WET CAMP

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

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■i i

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"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.

"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

"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-

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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"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

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THE WET CAMP.

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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"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'

FAOINO DEATH ON THE STONK-BLIDE.

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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"GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO 1"

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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.

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.

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

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FACINa DEATH ON THE jTONE-SLIDE.

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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"GOLD, GOLD IN CAPIBOOl'

}

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

CORBETT SEIZES HIn ONE CIIANCK \0\\ I. HE

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FACING DEATH ON THE STONE-SUDE.

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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"GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO!"

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."

'o^

. 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

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"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.'

igst

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

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"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

THEIR FIRST "COLOURS."

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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WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580

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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.

;

uimui

UNDER THE BALM-OF-GILEAD TREE.

"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

''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."

"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.

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

ill''

*<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.

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

"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.

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)

<*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

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,

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

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

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 ^

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

"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

"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 !"

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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"(JharirV ho Hhoiit/^;'!, "hohl ti^hi! I am jrOffi'/ t/>
Nlioot thai curHf!i) (/liinaman!"

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 ?

"WITH A SCRliAM OK IKAR IHK CHINAMAN Sl'RANt; OUT"

▲ SHEER SWINDLE.

117

CHAPTER XII.

A SHEER SWINDLE.

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

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

rf i

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

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-

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wsncBRSjasf"

128

»*GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO 1"

I ra;

"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;

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,

If
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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

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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

be
if

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,

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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

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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

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

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

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"GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO!"

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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

WHAT THE WOLF FOUND.

141

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

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143

"ooiiD, (joM> m OAumool"

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

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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

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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-

es, a
to a
\vho

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l.ll.I.A ACCO!5lS THK COI.ONEI. IN Tilt, DANCK-liOLSli

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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

i ill

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•■-1

•-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."

!?!!

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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

IN TilK DANCE-H0U8B.

161

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:

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^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

tffW! I'UUm n» Uttdftt.

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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

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rnji »MM< ir, /»»f nf.o<»r»

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(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
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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

» (

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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 ■!

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1 '5

^. H

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^^

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.

' i

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

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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

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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,

ir.

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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-

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

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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

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168

"GOLD, r.OLD IN CAniBOOl"

i#f!|

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

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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

'^'

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.

■1 i )'

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172

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-J tili

"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.

I ;

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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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Sciences

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23 WEST MAIN STREET

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.

?f.l

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i ^

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

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

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.

CHAPTER XX.

THE ACCURSED RIVER.

I i iM
'1

■.t
■ ''I

''■■ 'A

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

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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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.

!.l

ill

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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

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

. 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«

;f •

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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

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

j-irim

198

"GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO f

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

•I

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1

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E. ' B 1 !

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-

4 -

ilni

. 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 !

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

: 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-^

"NJ:-|-'l

206

"GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO !'

; .11

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,

) ,

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)

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 :

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?'

i !

' 'I
\%

]

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

216

"GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO 1"

■: 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

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

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^

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^

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 !"

y.i

i '1

Uv/--- It'

■ ;gvjM"' ■ VT^TPP

wmmm

■m

222

"GOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO 1"

CHAPTER XXIV.

DROWNING IN THE FOREST.

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.

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'^

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

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

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

HiMilbiM

li iiiiii r ii rfl ii i iii iM i t ii an

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 (

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) --....'^•^ -

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

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

i: II

m'i •

246

"aOLD, GOLD IN CARIBOO I"

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

? 11

mwf

1 ^ '

m '

f' :

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 '

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

;;

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)

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

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

:■

•!>

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 ?

' I

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,"

"(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

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

1 V

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TEST TARGET (MT-S)

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2.8

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1 U 1.6

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Hiotographic

Sciences

Corporation

4»^

23 WR5T MAIN STi.EET

WEBSTER,' .V 1 4580

(716) 472-4503

. ' I

S72

**QOU), QOLD IN OARIBOOr

ife' ; !

Mi;

&-H

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"

' 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

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 !

^.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"

!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

.. 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

"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

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Bonnie Prince Charlie: Fontenoy and CuUoden.

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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.

A March on London: Wat Tyler's Insurrection.

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.

A Jacobite Exile: Charles XII of Sweden.

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Maori and Settler: The New Zealand War.

One of the 28th: Waterloo.

In the Reign of Terror: The French Revolution.

Orange and Green: Boyne and Limerick.

The Bravest of the Brave: Peterborough in Spain.

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.