The three, agreeing, began at once the task.
It was perhaps fortunate for the explorers and fur hunters that the great mountains of northwestern America abounded in swift, clear streams and little lakes, many of the lakes being set at a great height in tiny valleys, enclosed by forests and lofty cliffs. There was no dying of thirst, and about the water they always found the beaver. Wood, too, was sure to be plentiful and, in the fierce cold of the northwestern winters they needed much of it. If the valleys were not visited for a long period, and often the Indians themselves did not come to them in years, elk and other game, large and small, made a home there.
It was into one of these most striking nooks that the three had now come. They had been in a valley of the same type before, but this was far deeper and far bolder. There were several acres of good grass, on which the horses and mules might find forage, even under the snow, and the lake, two or three acres in extent, was sure to contain fish good for eating.
But the two men examined with the most care the rocky, western cliff, weathered and honeycombed bythe storms of a thousand centuries. As they had expected, they found great cave-like openings at its base, and after much hunting they decided upon one running back about fifty feet, with a width half as great, and a roof varying from seven to twenty feet in height. The floor, fairly level, sloped rather sharply toward the doorway, which would protect them against floods from melting snows. The interior could be fitted up in a considerable degree of comfort with the material from their packs and furs they might take.
They found about fifty yards away another, though shallower, cavern which Will, with his gift for dealing with animals, could induce the horses and mules to use in bad weather. He proved his competency for the task a few hours after their arrival by leading them into it, tolling them on with wisps of fresh grass.
"That settles it so far as they are concerned," said Boyd, "and we had to think of them first. If we're snowed in here it's of the last importance to us to save our animals."
"An' we're goin' to be snowed in, I think," said the Little Giant, looking at the sombre heavens. "How high up did you say we wuz here, young William, ten miles above the level o' the sea?"
"Not ten miles, but we're certainly high, high enough for it to be winter here any time it feels like it. Now I'm going to rake and scrape as many old dead leaves as I can find into the new stone stable. The floor is pretty rough in places, and we don't want any of our beasts to break a leg there."
"All right, you set to work on it," said Boyd, "andGiant and me will labor on our own house."
Will toiled all the day on the new stable, and he enjoyed the homely work. Sometimes he filled in the deeper places in the floor with chunks of dead wood and then heaped the leaves on top. When it was finished it was all in such condition that the animals could occupy it without danger, and he also set up a thick hedge of boughs about the entrance, allowing only four or five feet for the doorway. Even if the snow should be driving hard in that direction the animals would yet be protected. Then he led them inside and barred them there for the night.
He was so much absorbed in his own task that he paid small heed to that of the men, but he was enthusiastic when he took a little rest. They had unpacked everything, and had put all the extra weapons and ammunition on shelves in the stone. They had made three wooden stools and they had smoothed a good place for cooking near the entrance, whence the smoke could pass out. They had also cut great quantities of firewood which they had stored along the sides of the cavern.
About nightfall the hunter shot an elk on the northern slope, and all three worked far into the night at the task of cleaning and cutting up the body, resolving to save every edible part for needs which might be long. All of it was stored in the cavern or on the boughs of trees, and leaving the horses to graze at their leisure on the grassy acres they lay down on their blankets in the cavern and slept the sleep of the little death, that is the sleep ofexhaustion, without a dream or a waking moment.
Will did not awake until the sun of dawn was shining in the cavern, although it was at its best a somewhat obscure sun, and the dawn itself was full of chill. When he went outside he found that heavy clouds were floating above the mountains and masses of vapor hung low over the valley, almost hiding the forest, which was thickest at the northern end and the lake which cuddled against the western side.
"I look for a mighty storm, maybe a great snow," said Boyd. "All the signs are here, but it may hang about for several days before coming, and the more time is left before it hits the better for us. It was big luck for us to find so deep a valley just when we did. Now, Will, suppose you take the beasts out to pasture and by the time you get back Giant and me will have breakfast ready."
Will found the horses and mules quite comfortable in the new stable and they welcomed him with neighs and whinnies and other sounds, the best of which their vocal cords were capable. The friendship that he had established with them was wonderful. As the Little Giant truly said, he could have been a brilliant success as an animal trainer. Perhaps they divined the great sympathy and kindness he felt for them, or he had a way of showing it given to only a few mortals. Whatever it may have been, they began to rub their noses against him, the big horse, Selim, finally thrusting his head under his arm, while the mules proudly marched on either side of him as he led the way down to the pasture.
"Ain't it wonderful," said the Little Giant, who saw them from the mouth of the cavern where he and Boyd were cooking, "the way the boy has with animals? My mules like me, but I know they'd leave me any minute at a whistle from young William, an' follow him wherever he went."
"Same way with that horse of mine, Selim. He'd throw me over right away for Will. He's a good lad, with a clean soul and a pure heart, and maybe the animals, having gifts that we don't have, to make up for gifts that we have and they haven't, can look straight into 'em. Do you think, Giant, that Felton could have had a line on our mine?"
"What's your drift, Jim?"
"Could he have been out here somewhere when the Captain, Will's father, found it, and have got some hint about its discovery? Maybe he guesses that Will's got a map, and that's what he's after. He wouldn't have followed us at such terrible risks, unless he had a mighty big motive."
"That's good reasonin', Jim, an' I think thar's somethin' in your notion. Ef it's so, Felton will hang on to the chase o' us ez long ez he's livin', an' fur the present, with Sioux on one side o' us an' outlaws on the other, I'm mighty glad we're hid away here in so deep a cut in the mountings."
"So am I, Giant. I think that coffee is boiling now. Call the lad."
"Young William! Young William!" cried the Little Giant. "Don't you dare to keep breakfus' waitin' the fust mornin' we've moved into our new home."
After breakfast Will and Bent worked on the cavern, while Boyd went hunting on the slopes. They cut many poles and made a palisade at the entrance to the great hollow, leaving a doorway only about two feet wide, over which they could hang the big bearskin in case heavy wind, rain or snow came. Then they packed the whole floor of the cavern with dry leaves, making a kind of matting, over which they intended to spread furs or skins as they obtained them.
"Caves are cold when left to theirselves," said the Little Giant, "an' it's lucky thar's a good nateral place fur our fire jest beside the door. We'll have lots o' meat in here, too, 'cause Jim's a fine hunter an' the valley is full o' game. Thar must be a lot o' grizzly bears roun' in these mountings, too, Young William. Wouldn't it be funny ef we went out some day an' come back to find our new house occupied by a whole family o' fightin' grizzlies, every one o' them with iron claws, ten inches long?"
"No, it wouldn't be funny, Giant, it would be tragic."
"Ef you jest knew it, Young William, we're mighty well off. Many a trappin' outfit hez been froze in in the mountings, in quarters not half so good ez ours."
Boyd shot another elk and smaller deer, and on the next day secured more game, which they cured, concluding now that they had enough to last them indefinitely. Will and the Little Giant, meanwhile, had been working on the house, and Boyd, his hunting over, joined them. The cured skins of the animals were put over the leaf thatch of the floor as they had planned,and as they procured them they intended to hang more on the walls, for the sake of dryness and warmth.
Although the clouds threatened continuously the storm still held off. They expected every morning to wake up and find the snow drifting, but the sun always showed, although dim and obscured by vapors. Will still led the horses and mules down to the grass every morning, and, every night, led them back to the new stone stable. The valley began to wear the aspect of home, of a home by no means uncomfortable, but on the sixth night there Will was awakened by something cold and wet striking upon his face. He went to the door, looked out and saw that the snow they had been expecting so long had come at last. It was thick, driving hard, and for the first time he hung in place the great bearskin, securing it tightly with the fastenings they had arranged and then went back to sleep.
He was the first to awake the next morning, and pushing aside the bearskin, he looked out to see snow still falling and apparently a good six inches in depth already.
"Wake up, Jim, and you, too, Giant!" he called. "Here's our storm at last, and lucky it is that we're holed up so well."
Boyd joined him. The snow was so dense that they could not see across the valley, but it was not driving now, merely floating down lazily and persistently.
"That means it will come for a long time," said Boyd. "Snow clouds are like men. If they begin to pour out their energy in vast quantities they're soon exhausted, but if they work in deliberate fashion theydo much more. I take it that this snow won't stop today, nor maybe tonight, nor the next day either."
"We can stand it," said Will. "We're well housed up and we're safe from invasion. If you and Tom will get breakfast I'll feed the horses and mules."
They had employed a large part of the time cutting the thick grass with their hunting knives, and it was now stored in the stable in a considerable quantity, out of the reach of the longest neck among the horses and mules. They were responsive as usual when he came among them, and nuzzled him, because they liked him and because they knew he was the provider of food, that is, he was in effect a god to them.
Will talked to the animals and gave to every one his portion of hay, watching them with pleasure as they ate it, and returned thanks in their own way. When he made his way back through the snow, breakfast was ready and, although they were sparing with the coffee and bread, every one could have all the meat he wished.
"Now, there'll be nothing for us to do but sit around the house," said Boyd, the breakfast over.
"Which means that I kin put in a lot o' my spare time readin'," said the Little Giant. "Young William, bring me my Shakespeare! What, you say I furgot to put it in my pack! Well, then bring me my copy o' the Declaration o' Independence. I always like them words in it, 'Give me lib'ty or give me death!' 'Sic semper tyrannis!'"
"'Give me liberty or give me death' is not in the Declaration of Independence, Giant. Thosewords were used by Patrick Henry in an address."
"Well, they ought to hev been thar, an' ef Patrick Henry hadn't been so fresh an' used 'em first they would a-been. But you can't go back on 'sic semper tyrannis!'"
"They couldn't possibly be in the declaration, Giant, because they're Latin."
"I reckon the signers o' the Declaration wuz good enough to write Latin an' talk it, too, ef they wanted to."
"They were used eighteen or nineteen hundred years ago by a Roman."
"I guess that's one advantage o' livin' early. You kin git the fust chance at what's best. Anyway, they did say a lot o' rousin' things in the Declaration, though I don't remember exactly what they wuz. But I see I won't hev no chance to git on with my lit'ry pursuits, so I think I'll jest do chores about the house inside."
He went to work in the best of spirits. Will had seldom seen a happier man. He fixed shelves in the stone, arranged the materials from their packs, and all the time he whistled airs, until the cavern seemed to be filled with the singing of nightingales, mocking birds and skylarks. Will and Boyd began to help him, though Will stopped at times to look out.
On every occasion he reported that the snow was still drifting down in a steady, thick, white stream, and that he could not see more than thirty or forty yards from the door. About eleven o'clock in the morning, when he pulled the bearskin aside for perhaps the sixth time, he heard a sound which at first he took to be thedistant moan of the wind through a gorge. But he had not heard it on his previous visits, although the wind had been blowing all the morning, and he stood there a little while, listening. As he did not hear it again just yet, he thought his fancy had deceived him, but in a minute or so the sound came once more. It was a weird note, carrying far, but he seemed to detect a human quality in it. And yet what human being could be out there in that lone mountain valley in the wild snow storm? It seemed impossible, but when he heard it a third time the human quality seemed stronger. He beckoned to the hunter and Little Giant.
"Come here," he said, "and tell me if my imagination is playing tricks with me. It seems to me that I've heard a human voice in the storm."
The two came to the doorway and, standing beside him, listened. Once more Will discerned that note and he turned an inquiring face to them.
"There!" he exclaimed. "Did you hear it? It sounded to me like a man's voice!"
Neither Boyd nor Bent replied until the call came once more and then Boyd said:
"It's not your imagination, Will. It's a man out there in the snow, and he's shouting for help. Why he should expect anybody to come to his aid in a place like this is more'n I can understand."
"He's drawin' nearer," said the Little Giant. "I kin make out the word 'hello' said over an' over ag'in. Maybe Felton's band has wandered on a long chase into our valley, an' it's some o' them lost from the others in the storm, callin' to em."
"Like as not," said the hunter. "The snow has covered up most of the traces and trails we've left, and anyway they couldn't rush this cavern in the face of our rifles."
"It's no member of Felton's gang," said Will, with great emphasis.
"How do you know that?" asked Boyd in surprise.
"I can scarcely tell. Instinct, I suppose. It doesn't sound like the voice of an outlaw, though I don't know how I know that, either. Hark, he's coming much nearer! I've an idea the man's alone."
"In the storm," said the Little Giant, "he's likely to pass by the cavern, same ez ef it wuzn't here."
"But we mustn't let him do that," exclaimed Will. "I tell you it's a friend coming! a man we want! Besides, it's no Indian! It's a white man's voice, and we couldn't let him wander around and perish in a wilderness storm!"
The hunter and the Little Giant glanced at each other.
"A feller that kin talk with hosses an' mules, an' hev the toughest mule eat out o' his hand the fust time he ever saw him may be able to tell more about a voice in the wilderness than we kin," said the Little Giant.
"I don't believe you're wrong," said the hunter with equal conviction.
Will threw aside the bearskin and dashed out. The two men followed, their rifles under their fur coats, where they were protected from the storm. The voice could now be heard very plainly calling, and Boyd and Bent were quite sure also that it was not one ofFelton's band. It truly sounded like the voice of an honest man crying aloud in the wilderness.
Will still led the way and, as he approached, he gave a long, clear shout, to which the owner of the voice replied instantly, not a hundred yards away. Then the three pressed forward and they saw the figure of a man, exaggerated and gigantic in the falling snow. Behind him stood three horses, loaded heavily but drooping and apparently almost frozen. He gave a cry of joy when the three drew near, and said:
"I called upon the Lord when all seemed lost, but I did not call in vain."
He was tall, clothed wholly in deerskin, and with a fur cap upon his head. His figure was one of great strength, but it was bent somewhat now with weariness. The Little Giant uttered an exclamation.
"By all that's wonderful, it's Steve Brady!" he said. "Steve Brady, the seeker after the lost beaver horde!"
The man extended a hand, clothed in a deerskin gauntlet.
"And it's you, Tom Bent, the Little Giant," he said. "I surely did not dream that when you and I met again it would be in such a place as this. Providence moves in a mysterious way its wonders to perform, and it's a good thing for us it does, or I'd have frozen or starved to death in this valley. That quotation may not be strictly correct, but I mean well."
The Little Giant seized his hand and shook it violently. It was evident that the stranger was one whom he admired and liked.
"Ef we'd knowed it wuz you callin', Steve Brady," he said, "we'd hev come sooner. But hev you found that huge beaver colony you say is somewhar in the northwestern mountings, the biggest colony the world hez ever knowed?"
"I have not, Tom Bent. 'Search and ye shall find' says the Book, and I have searched years and years, but I have never found. If I had found, you would not see me here in this valley, a frozen man with three frozen horses, and I ask you, Tom Bent, if you have ever yet discovered a particle of the gold for which you've been looking all the years since you were a boy."
"Not a speck, Steve, not a speck of it. If I had I wouldn't be here. I'd be in old St. Looey, the grandest city in the world, stoppin' in the finest room at the Planters' House, an' tilted back in a rockin' chair pickin' my teeth with a gold tooth pick, after hevin' et a dinner that cost a hull five dollars. But you come into our house, Steve, an' warm up an' eat hot food, while Young William, here, takes your hosses to the stable, an' quite a good hoss boy is young William, too."
"House! Fire! Food! Stable! What do you mean?"
"Jest what I say. These are my friends, Thomas Boyd and William Clarke, young William. Boys, this is Stephen Brady, who has been a fur hunter all his life but who hasn't been findin' much o' late. Come on, Steve."
Will took the three horses and led them to the stable, into which he pushed them without much trouble, and where they received a fair welcome. Healso threw them a quantity of the hay, and then he ran back to the house, where Boyd and Bent were rapidly fanning the coals into a blaze and were warming food. Brady's outer garments were steaming before the fire, and he was sitting on a stone outcrop, a look of solemn satisfaction on his face.
"It is truly a habitation in the wilderness," he said, "and friends the best and bravest in the world. It is more, far more, than I, a lone fur hunter, had a right to expect. Truly it is more than any humble mortal such as I had a right to hope for. But as the sun stood still over Gibeon, and as the moon stood still over the vale of Ajalon at the command of Joshua, so the wilderness and the storm opened at the command of the Lord, and disclosed to me those who would save me."
There was nothing of the unctuously pious about his tone and manner, instead it was sternly enthusiastic, full of courage and devotion. He made to Will a mental picture of one of Cromwell's Ironsides, or of the early New England Puritans, and his Biblical language and allusions heightened the impression. The lad felt instinctively that he was a strong man, great in the strength of body, mind and spirit.
"Take another slice o' the elk steak, Steve," said the hospitable Little Giant, who was broiling them over coals. "You've et only six, an' a man o' your build an' hunger ought to eat at least twelve. We've got plenty of it, you won't exhaust the supply, never fear. An' take another cup o' coffee; it will warm your insides right down to your toes. I'm mighty glad tosee you, an' young William's mighty glad to see you."
"You couldn't have been as glad to see me as I was to see you," said Brady with a solemn smile. "Truly it seems that one may be saved when apparently his last hour has come, if he will only hope and persist. It may be that you will yet find your gold, Thomas Bent, that you, James Boyd and William Clarke, will find whatever you seek, though I know not what it is, nor ask to know, and that I, too, will find some day the great beaver colony of which I have dreamed, a colony ten times as large as any other ever seen even in these mountains."
Boyd and Bent exchanged glances, but said nothing. It was evident that they had the same thought and Will's quick and active mind leaped up too. In their great quest they needed at least another man, a man honest, brave and resourceful, and such a man in the emergency was beyond price. But for the present they said nothing.
"Thar's one thing I'd like fur you to explain to me, Steve," said the Little Giant, who was enjoying the hospitality he gave, "why wuz you callin' so much through the storm? Wuz it jest a faint hope, one chance in a million that trappers might be here in the valley?"
"No, Thomas, it was not a hope. A sign was vouchsafed to me. When I knew the storm was coming I started for this valley, which I visited once, years ago, and, although the snow caught me before I could reach it, I managed, owing to my former knowledge, to get down the slope without losing any of myhorses. Then in the valley I saw saplings cut freshly by the axe, cut so recently in truth that I knew the wielders of the steel must still be here, and in all likelihood were white men. Strong in that faith I called aloud and you answered, but I did not dream that one whom I knew long ago, and one, moreover, whom I knew to be honest and true, was here. It is a lesson to us that hope should never be wholly lost."
All were silent for a little space, feeling deeply the truth of the man's words and manner, and then, when Brady finished his last elk steak and his last cup of coffee, Boyd said:
"I think, Mr. Brady, that you've had a terrible time and that you need sleep. You can roll in dry blankets in the corner there, and we'll arrange your packs for you. Will reports that your animals have made friends with ours, as you and we have surely made friends, and there's nothing left for you now but to take a big sleep."
"That I'll surely do," said Brady, smiling a solemn smile, "but first promise me one thing."
"What is that?"
"Don't call me Mr. Brady. It doesn't sound right coming from men of my own age. To you I'm Steve, just as I am to our friend Thomas."
"All right, Steve, but into the blankets with you. Even a fur hunter can catch pneumonia, if he's just bent on doing it."
Brady rolled himself in the blankets and soon slept. The hunter, the Little Giant and Will drew to the other side of the cavern, and before a word was spokenevery one of the three was conscious of what was in the minds of the others. Will was the first to speak.
"He's the man," he said.
"We shorely need him," said the Little Giant.
"I don't think we could do better," said Boyd.
"It's luck, big luck, that we found him or he found us," continued the Little Giant. "When these solemn, prayin' men are real, they're real all over. He's as brave as a lion, he'll hang on like a grizzly bear, an' he's as honest as they ever make 'em. He's a fightin' man from start to finish. From what you say thar must be more'n a million in that mine, an' in huntin' fur it an' keepin' it after we find it, Steve Brady is wuth at least a quarter o' a million to us."
"All of that," said the hunter. "But the mine really belongs to Will, here, and it's for him to bring in a new partner."
"It belongs to us all now," said the lad, "though I'll admit I was the original owner. I think Mr. Brady will just round out our band. I'm for offering him a full partnership."
"Then you do the talkin'," said the Little Giant. "It's right that it should come from you."
When Brady awoke many hours later three very serious faces confronted him, and his acute mind saw at once that he was about to receive a communication of weight.
"It looks like a committee," he said with solemn importance. "Who is the spokesman?"
"I am," replied Will, "and what we have to say to you is really of importance, of vast importance. Mr.Bent has been looking many years for gold, but has never yet found a grain of it. Now he has given up his independent search, and is joining with Mr. Boyd and me in a far bigger hunt. You've been looking eight or ten years, you say, for the gigantic beaver colony, but have never found it. Now we want you to give up that hunt for the time, and join us, because we need you much."
"Your words have an earnest sound, young man, and I know that you and your comrades are honest, but I do not take your full meaning."
"It is this," said Will, and he produced from his secret pocket the precious map. "My father, who was a captain in the army, found a great mine of gold, but before he could work it, or even make any preparations to do so, he was called for the Civil War, in which he fell. But he left this map that tells me how to reach it somewhere in the vast northwestern mountains. To locate it and get out the treasure I need fighting men, the best fighting men the world can furnish, wilderness fighters, patient, enduring and full of knowledge. I have two such in Mr. Boyd and Mr. Bent, but we need just one more, and we have agreed that you should be the fourth, if you will favor us by entering into the partnership. It is full of danger, as you know. We have already had a fight with the Sioux, and another with a band of outlaws, led by Martin Felton."
A spark leaped up in the stern eye of Stephen Brady.
"I am a fur hunter," he said, "though there is little prospect of success for me now, owing to the Indian wars, but I have spent all my manhood years amongdangers. Perhaps I should feel lonely if they were absent, and you may dismiss that idea."
"I thought so. Will you enter into full partnership with us in this great enterprise? Mr. Bent has appraised your full value as a fighting man in this crisis at a quarter of a million dollars, and we know that the mine contains at least a million. I beg you not to refuse. We need your strong arm and great heart. You will be conferring the favor upon us."
"And the vast beaver colony that I'm going to find some day?"
"It can wait. It will be there after we get out the gold."
"And you are in full agreement with this, James Boyd?"
"I am."
"And you are in full agreement with this, too, Thomas Bent?"
"I am."
"Then I accept. A quarter of a million dollars is a great sum. I scarcely thought there was so much money in the world, but one may do much with it. I am already forming certain plans in my mind. Will you let me take another and thorough look at your map, William?"
He studied it long and attentively, and then as he handed it back to the owner, he said:
"It will be a long journey, as you have said, full of dangers, but I think I am not boasting when I say we be four who know how to meet hardship and peril. I make the prediction that after unparalleled dangers wewill find the mine. Yet a quarter of a million is too vast a sum for my services. I could not accept such an amount. Make it about ten thousand dollars."
Will laughed.
"You must bear in mind, Mr. Brady," he said, "that we haven't all this gold yet, and it will be a long time before we do get it. We're all to be comrades and full partners, and you must be on exactly the same terms as the others. We've probably saved your life, and we demand, therefore, that you accept. Standing squarely on our rights, we'll take no refusal."
The stern eyes of Brady gleamed.
"Since you give me no choice, I accept," he said.
It snowed for two days and two nights without ceasing, and then turned so cold that the snow froze over, a covering like glass forming upon it. Will broke a way to the stable, where he talked to the animals and fed them with the hay which had been cut with forethought. With the help of the others he also opened a path down to a little stream flowing into the lake, where the horses and mules were able to obtain water, spending the rest of the time in the cavern.
The men usually had a small fire and they passed the time while they were snowed in in jerking more meat, repairing their clothes and doing a hundred other things that would be of service later on. Brady stored his traps in a remote corner of the cavern, hiding them so artfully that it was not likely anyone save the four would ever find them.
"I shall have no further use for them for a long time," he said, "but after we reach our gold I mean to return here and get them."
Will, who noticed his grammatical and good English, rather unusual on the border, asked him how he came to be a fur hunter.
"Drift," he replied. "You would not think it, but it was my original intention to become a schoolmaster. An excursion into the west made me fall in love with the forest, the mountains, solitude and independence. I've always taken enough furs for a good living, and I'm absolutely my own master. Moreover, I'm an explorer and it gives me a keen pleasure to find a new river or a new mountain. And this northwest is filled with wonders. After we find the gold and my beaver colony, I'm going to write a book of a thousand pages about the wonders I've seen."
"I never saw anybody that wrote a book," said the Little Giant with the respect of the unlettered for the lettered, "an' I confess I ain't much of a hand at readin' 'em, but when I'm rich ez I expect to be a year or two from now, an' I build my fine house in St. Looey, I mean to have a room full of 'em, in fine leather an' morocco bindin's."
"Will you read them?" asked Will.
"Me read 'em! O' course not!" replied the Little Giant. "I'll hire a man to read 'em, an' he kin keep busy on them books while I'm away on my long huntin' trips."
"But that won't be you reading 'em."
"What diff'unce does that make? All a book asks is to be read by somebody, en' ef it's read by my reader 'stead o' me it's jest the same."
The days confirmed them in their choice of Brady as the fourth partner in the great hunt. Despite his rather stern and solemn manner he was at heart a man of most cheerful and optimistic temperament.He had, too, a vast fund of experience and he knew much of the wilderness that was unknown to others.
"What do you think of our plan of going straight ahead as soon as we can travel, and passing over the left shoulder of the White Dome?" asked Boyd.
"It's wisest," replied Brady thoughtfully. "I've heard something of this Felton, with whom you had such a sanguinary encounter, and I'm inclined to think from all you tell me that he has had a hint about the mine. He has affiliated with the Indians and he can command a large band of his own, white men, mostly murderous refugees from the border, and the worst type of half breeds. It's better for us to keep as long as we can in the depths of the mountains despite all the difficulties of travel there."
On the fifth day it turned much warmer and rained heavily, and so violent were the changes in the high mountains that there was a tremendous manifestation of thunder and lightning. They watched the display of electricity with awe from the door of the cavern, and Will saw the great sword blades of light strike more than once on the rocks of the topmost peaks.
"I think," said Brady devoutly, "that we have been watched over. Where else in the mountains could we have found such a refuge for our animals and ourselves?"
"Nowhere," said the Little Giant, cheerfully, "an' I want to say that I'm enjoyin' myself right here. We four hev got more o' time than anythin' else, an' I ain't goin' to stir from our nice, comf'table home 'til the travelin's good."
The others were in full agreement with him, and, in truth, delay was absolutely necessary as a march now would have been accompanied by new and great dangers, snow slides, avalanches, and the best of the paths slippery with mud and water. When the rain ceased, although a warm sun that followed it hastened the melting of the snow, Will released the animals from the stable and with pleasure saw them run about among the trees, where the snow had melted and sprigs of hardy grass were again showing green against the earth. After they had drunk at the lake and galloped up and down awhile, they began to nibble the grass, while Will walked among them and stroked their manes or noses, and was as pleased as they were. Brady's three horses were already as firm friends of his as the earlier animals.
"Did you ever notice that boy's ways with hosses an' mules?" said the Little Giant to Brady. "He's shorely a wonder. I think he's got some kind o' talk that we don't understand but which they do. My critters and Boyd's would quit us at any time fur him, an' so will yours."
"I perceive it is true, my friend, and so far as my horses are concerned I don't grudge him his power. Now that the snow has gone and the greenness is returning this valley truly looks like the land of Canaan. And it is well for us to be outside again. People who live the lives that we do flourish best in the open air."
The warm days lasted and all the snow melted, save where it lay perpetually on the crest of the WhiteDome. Often they heard it thundering in masses down the slopes. The whole earth was soaked with water, and swift streams ran in every gulch and ravine and canyon. Will, although he was impatient to be up and away, recognized now how thoroughly necessary it was to wait. The mountains in such a condition were impassable, and the valley was safe, too, because for the time nobody could come there either.
Big game wandered down again and Brady shot another large grizzly bear, the skin of which they saved and tanned, thinking it might prove in time as useful as the first. Another deer was added to their larder, and they also shot a number of wild fowl. But as the hills began to dry their minds returned with increasing strength to the great mine, hidden among far-away peaks. All were eager to be off, and it was only the patience coming from experience that delayed the start.
The valley dried out rapidly. The snow, deep as it had been, did not seem to have done any harm to the grass, which reappeared fresher and stronger than ever, forming a perfect harvest for the horses and mules. Then the time for departure came and they began to pack, having added considerably to their stores of skins and cured meats.
Brady also had been exceedingly well equipped for a long journey, and the temporary abandonment of his traps gave them a chance to add further to their food supplies. All four of them, in addition to their food, carried extra weapons, including revolvers, rifles, and a fine double-barreled shotgun for everyone. The two caverns, the one for the men and the other for the horses, they left almost as they had fitted them up.
"We may come here ag'in," said the Little Giant. "It's true that Felton's men an' the Sioux also may come, but I don't think it's ez likely, 'cause the Sioux are mostly plains warriors, an' them that ain't are goin' down thar anyhow to fight, while the outlaws likely are ridin' to the west huntin' fur us."
"Anyway," said Stephen Brady, in his deep, bass voice, "we'll trust to Providence. It's amazing how events happen in your favor when you really trust."
Although eager to be on their way, they felt regret at leaving the valley. It had given them a snug home and shelter during the storm, and the melting of the snow had acted like a gigantic irrigation scheme, making it greener and fresher than before. As they climbed the western slope it looked more than ever a gem in its mountain setting. Will saw far beneath him the blue of lake and the green of grass, and he waved his hand in a good-bye, but not a good-bye forever.
"I expect to sleep there again some day," he said.
"It's a fine home," said Brady, "but we'll find other lakes and other valleys. As I have told you before, I have trapped for years through these regions, and they contain many such places."
They pressed forward three more days and three more nights toward the left shoulder of the White Dome, which now rose before them clear and dazzlingly bright against the shining blue of the sky. The air was steadily growing colder, owing to their increasingelevation, but they had no more storms of rain, sleet or snow. They were not above the timber line, and the vegetation, although dwarfed, was abundant. There was also plenty of game, and in order to save their supplies they shot a deer or two. On the third day Will through his glasses saw a smoke, much lower down on their left, and he and the Little Giant, descending a considerable distance to discover what it meant, were able to discern a deep valley, perhaps ten miles long and two miles broad, filled with fine pastures and noble forest, and with a large Indian village in the centre. Smoke was rising from at least a hundred tall tepees, and several hundred horses were grazing on the meadows.
"Tell me what you can about them," said the lad, handing the glasses to the Little Giant.
"I think they're Teton Sioux," said Bent, "an' ez well ez I kin make out they're livin' a life o' plenty. I kin see game hangin' up everywhar to be cured. Sometimes, young William, I envy the Indians. When the weather's right, an' the village is in a good place an' thar's plenty to eat you never see any happier fellers. The day's work an' huntin' over, they skylark 'roun' like boys havin' fun with all sorts o' little things. You wouldn't think they wuz the same men who could enjoy roastin' an enemy alive. Then, they ain't troubled a bit 'bout the future, either. Termorrer kin take care o' itself. I s'pose that's what downs 'em, an' gives all the land some day to the white man. Though I hev to fight the Indian, I've a lot o' sympathy with him, too."
"I feel the same way about it," said Will. "Maybe we won't have any more trouble with them."
The Little Giant shook his head.
"We may dodge 'em in the mountains, though that ain't shore," he said, "but when we go down into the plains, ez we've got to do sooner or later, the fur will fly. I'm mighty glad we picked up Steve Brady, 'cause fur all his solemn ways he's a pow'ful good fightin' man. Now, I think we'd better git back up the slope, 'cause warriors from that village may be huntin' 'long here an', however much we may sympathize with the Indians we're boun' to lose a hull lot o' that sympathy when they come at us, burnin' fur our scalps."
"Correct," laughed Will, and as fast as they could climb they rejoined the others, telling what they had seen. Brady showed some apprehension over their report.
"I've noticed that mountain sheep and goats are numerous through here, and while Indians live mostly on the buffalo, yet they have many daring hunters in the mountains, looking for goats and sheep, and maybe in the ravines for the smaller bears, the meat of which they love."
"And you think we may be seen by some such hunters?" said Will.
"Perhaps so, and in order to avoid such bad luck I suggest that we seek still greater height."
They agreed upon it, though the Little Giant grumbled at the hard luck that compelled them to scale the tops of high mountains, and they began at once a perilous ascent, which would not have been possiblefor the horses had they not been trained by long experience. They also entered a domain of bad weather, being troubled much by rain, heavy winds and occasional snows, and at night it was so cold that they invariably built a fire in some ravine or deep gully.
Will calculated that they were at least ten thousand feet above the sea level, and that the White Dome, which was now straight ahead, must be between three and four thousand feet higher. They reckoned that they could circle the peak on the left at their present height, and they made good progress, as there seemed to be fewer ravines and canyons close to the dome.
Nevertheless, as they approached they came to a dip much deeper than usual, but it was worth the descent into it, as they found there in the sheltered spaces plenty of grass for the horses, and they were quite willing to rest also, as every nerve and muscle was racked by the mountain climbing. Still holding that time was their most abundant possession, the hunter suggested that they spend a full day and night in the dip, and all the others welcomed the idea.
Will, being younger than the others, had more physical elasticity, and a few hours restored him perfectly. Then he decided to take his rifle and go up the dip looking for a mountain sheep, and the others being quite willing, he was soon making his way through the short bushes toward the north. He prided himself on having become a good hunter and trailer, and even here in the heart of the high mountains he neglected no precaution.
The dip extended about two miles into the northand then it began to rise rapidly, ending at last in huge, craggy rocks, towering a thousand feet overhead, and Will considered himself in great luck when he saw a splendid ram standing upon one of these stony pinnacles.
The sheep, sharply outlined against the rock and the clear sky, looked at least double his real size, and Will, anxious to procure fresh game, and feeling some of the hunter's ambition, resolved to stalk him. The animal reminded him of a lookout, and perhaps he was, as he stood on his dizzy perch, gazing over the vast range of valley, and the White Dome that now seemed so near.
The lad reached the first rocky slope and began slowly to creep in a diagonal line that took him upward and also toward the sheep. It was difficult work to keep one's footing and carry one's rifle also, but his pride was up and he clung to his task, until his muscles began to ache and the perspiration came out on his face. He was in fear lest the sheep would go away, but the great ram stood there, immovable, his head haughtily erect, a monarch of his tribe, and Will became thoroughly convinced that he was a watchman.
His repeating rifle carried a long distance, but he did not want to make an uncertain shot, and he continued his laborious task of climbing which yielded such slow results. The sheep took no notice of him, still gazing over valley and ranges and at the White Dome. If he saw him, the lad was evidently in his eyes a speck in a vast world and not worth notice.Will felt a sort of chagrin that he was not considered more dangerous, and, patting his rifle, he resolved to make the ram realize that a real hunter was after him.
He crawled painfully and cautiously around a big rock and something whirring by his ear rang sharply on the stone. He saw to his amazement a long feathered arrow dropping away from the target on which it had struck in vain, and then roll down the side of the mountain.
He knew, too, that the arrow had passed within a few inches of his ear, aimed with deadly purpose, and for a moment or two his blood was cold within his veins. Instantly he turned aside and flattened himself against a stony upthrust. As he did so he heard the ring on the rock again and a second feathered arrow tumbled into the void.
His first emotion was thankfulness. He lay in a shallow hollow now and it was not easy for any arrow to reach him there. He was unharmed as yet, and he had the great repeating rifle which should be a competent answer to arrows. Some loose stones were lying in the hollow, and he cautiously built them into a low parapet, which increased his protection. Then, peeping over the stones, he tried to discover the location of his enemy or enemies, if they should be plural, but he saw only the valley below with its touch of sheltered green, the vast rocky sides about it, and over all the towering summit of the White Dome. There was nothing, save the flight of the feathered arrows, to indicate that a human being was near. Far out on the jutting crag the mountain sheep still stood,a magnificent ram, showing no consciousness of danger or, if conscious of it, defying it. Will suddenly lost all desire to take his life, due, perhaps, to his own resentment at the effort of somebody to take his own.
He believed that the arrows had come from above, but whether from a point directly overhead or to the right or to the left he had no way of telling. It was a hidden foe that he had to combat, and this ignorance was the worst feature of his position. He did not know which way to turn, he did not know which road led to escape, but must lie in his narrow groove until the enemy attacked.
He had learned from his comrades, experienced in the wilderness and in Indian warfare, that perhaps the greatest of all qualities in such surroundings was patience, and if it had not been for such knowledge he might have risked a third arrow long ago, but, as it was, he kept perfectly still, flattening himself against the cliff, sheltered by the edge of the natural bowl and the little terrace of stones he had built. He might have fired his rifle to attract the attention of his comrades, but he judged that they were at the camp and would not hear his shot. He would fight it out himself, especially as he believed that he was menaced by but a single Indian, a warrior who perhaps had been stalking the mountain sheep also, when he had beheld the creeping lad.
Great as was the strength of the youth's will and patience, he began to twist his body a little in the stony bowl and seek here and there for a sight of his besieger. He could make out stony outcrops andprojections above him, every one of which might shelter a warrior, and he was about to give up the quest when a third arrow whistled, struck upon the ledge that he had built and, instead of falling into the chasm, rebounded into the bowl wherein he lay.
The barb had been broken by the rock against which it struck so hard, though the shaft, long, polished and feathered, showed that it had been made by an artist. But he did not know enough about arrows to tell whether it was that of a Sioux or of a warrior belonging to some other tribe. Looking at it a little while, he threw it into the chasm, and settled back to more waiting.
The day was now well advanced and a brilliant sun in the slope of the heavens began to pour fiery shafts upon the side of the cliff. Will had usually found it cold at such a height, but now the beams struck directly upon him and his face was soon covered with perspiration. He was assailed also by a fierce, burning thirst, and a great anger lay hold of him. It was a terrible joke that he should be held there in the hole of the cliff by an invisible warrior who used only arrows against him, perhaps because he feared a shot from a rifle would bring the white lad's comrades.
If the Indian would not use a rifle because of the report, then the case was the reverse with Will. He had thought that the men were too far away to hear, but perhaps the warrior was right, and raising the repeating rifle he sent a bullet into the void. The sharp report came back in many echoes, but he heard no reply from the valley. A second shot, and stillno answer. It was evident that the three were too distant to hear, and, for the present, he thought it wise to waste no more bullets.
The power of the sun increased, seeming to concentrate its rays in the little hollow in which Will lay. His face was scorched and his burning thirst was almost intolerable. Yet he reflected that the heat must be at the zenith. Soon the sun would decline, and then would come night, under the cover of which he might escape.
He heard a heavy, rolling sound and a great rock crashed into the valley below. Will shuddered and crowded himself back for every inch of shelter he could obtain. A second rock rolled down, but did not come so near, then a third bounded directly over his head, followed quickly by another in almost the same place.
It was a hideous bombardment, but he realized that so long as he kept close in his little den he was safe. It also told him that his opponent was directly above him, and when the volleys of rocks ceased he might get a shot.
The missiles poured down for several minutes and then ceased abruptly. Evidently the warrior had realized the futility of his avalanche and must now be seeking some other mode of attack. It caused Will chagrin that he had not seen him once during all the long attack, but he noticed with relief that the sun would soon set beyond the great White Dome. The snow on the Dome itself was tinged now with fire, but it looked cool even at the distance, and assuaged a little his heat and thirst. He knew that bye and bye the long shadows would fall, and then the grateful cold of the night would come.