Chapter Forty Three.

Chapter Forty Three.Our Warning.After a whispered consultation we crept on again through the trees, until we could see a good-sized fire blazing and sparkling close down by the side of the pool, and about it—some asleep, some sitting resting, and others talking—were a group of rough-looking men, whom we had not much difficulty in making out to be our visitors at the Fort.It was plain enough. They had come down after leaving us, and had camped there for the night, perhaps found gold there; and this was their station. If so, Gunson must be higher up and safe.I whispered my ideas to Esau, who thought for a few minutes before speaking.“No,” he said, “I don’t believe they’d stop here. But p’r’aps they’re quite new-comers. What shall we do?”“Get by them,” I said resolutely. “We must hurry on to Mr Gunson now.”“But how?” he whispered. “Ain’t they stopping up all the road?”“Not all,” I said. “Let’s go down on our hands again, and creep by.”“All right, only you go first, and be careful. Mind, if they see us they’ll fire.”I don’t know whether it was recklessness or desperation. I had felt timid, and had shrunk from the task at first; but now that I felt I must go on, the dread had pretty well passed away.Going down on my hands and knees, I found to my great satisfaction that the fire was invisible; and if so, of course we must be out of sight of the men about it. I whispered this to Esau, who responded by a grunt, which, added to his position, made him bear a strong resemblance to an animal, and for the moment it amused me, and took my attention from the difficulty of my task.We had had to leave the track, and our way was amongst blocks of stone covered with moss, between which short stiff patches of bush grew, making our passage difficult, and not to be accomplished without noise.But I kept on with the light on my left, knowing that if I kept it in that position I must be going in the correct direction; and it was necessary to keep this in mind, as every now and then a tree or a block of stone forced me to diverge.The men were talking loudly, and now and then there arose a rough burst of laughter, while there was no doubt about who the party were, for I heard an allusion made to the Fort.Just then, as we were about level with the fire, a piece of a branch upon which I pressed my knee gave a loud crack, and the conversation ceased instantly.We neither of us moved, but crouched there, listening to our beating hearts, and expecting to have either a shot sent in our direction, or to see part of the men come rushing toward us.At last, after what seemed to be quite ten minutes, a voice said—“Hear that?”“Yes,” was growled.“What was it?”“Don’t know.”They began talking again slowly, and by degrees the conversation grew general and loud.“Go along,” I whispered, after carefully removing the dead branch, and once more our rustling progress began.Oh, how slow it was, and how I longed to jump up and run. But we were in the opening of the little valley now, and our only chance was to creep on till we were well beyond the light cast by the fire, and so we persevered.At last, after creeping along inch by inch, we paused, for in front of us the undergrowth ceased, and I saw an open patch of sand faintly lit by the fire, and across this we must pass to reach the shelter beyond.“Go on first,” whispered Esau, and, drawing alongbreath, I started, going as silently and quickly as I could into the darkness of the shelter beyond, and turned to look at Esau.From where I knelt I could see the fire clearly, and as he came across, I was thinking how animal-like he looked, when I fancied I saw a movement, and before I could be sure, there was a flash, a loud report, and a twig dropped from over my head upon one of my hands.“Bear! bear!” shouted a voice, and the men sprang to their feet. But by this time Esau was alongside of me, and rising up we hurried along in a stooping position, leaving the eager voices more and more behind, the men being evidently hunting for the bear one of them believed that he had shot.“Was he firing at me?” said Esau.“Yes; he saw you, I suppose.”“But he might have hit me,” cried Esau, indignantly. “Chaps like that have no business to be trusted with guns.”“Hist!”“Come on, lads,” we heard plainly. “I’m sure I hit him.”“Don’t be a fool,” cried another voice. “Wait till daylight. Do you want to be clawed?”“Shall I roar?” whispered Esau.“Don’t—don’t, whatever you do,” I whispered back in alarm, for I had not the slightest faith in my companion’s imitation, and felt certain that we should be found out.The men too seemed to be coming on, but in a few minutes the rustling and breaking of wood ceased, and we crept on again for a little way; and then, with the light of the fire reduced to a faint glow, we stood upright and began to ascend the little valley at a fairly rapid rate for the darkness.“What an escape!” I said, breathing more freely now.“That’s what I ought to say,” grumbled Esau. “That bullet came close by me.”“And by me too,” I replied. “I felt a twig that it cut off fall upon me. But never mind as we were not hit.”“But I do mind,” grumbled Esau. “I didn’t come out here to be shot at.”“Don’t talk,” I said. “Perhaps we shall come upon another camp before long.”I proved to be right, for at the end of an hour we came upon a rough tent, so dimly seen that we should have passed it where it stood, so much canvas thrown over a ridge pole, if we had not been warned by a low snoring sound.We crept down to the waterside, and slowly edged our way on; but when we were some fifty yards farther we stopped to consider our position.“S’pose that’s old Gunson,” said Esau, “and we’re going away from him now?”The idea struck me too, but I set it triumphantly aside directly.“If it were Mr Gunson there would be a fire, and most likely Quong keeping watch. Besides, we don’t know that he had a tent like that.”“No, he hadn’t got a tent,” assented Esau; and we went on, to find that at every quarter of a mile there was a tent or a fire; and it soon became evident that the solitary little valley we had explored on the day of my accident was rapidly getting to hold a population of its own.We had passed several of these busy encampments, and were beginning to despair of finding Mr Gunson, when, as nearly as we could guess in the darkness, just about where we washed the gold, we came upon a fire, whose warm yellow glow lit up a huge pine, and at the scene before us we stopped to reconnoitre.“That’s where I was cutting the tree,” muttered Esau; “and—yes, there’s old Quong. Look!”Sure enough there was the yellow-faced, quaint little fellow coming out of the darkness into the light to bend down and carefully lay some fresh wood upon the fire, after which he slowly began to walk back.Mr Gunson must be here, I thought, for Quong would naturally be drawn to him as a strong man who would protect him.“Come along,” I said; “we are right after all.”“No, no, stop!” he cried, seizing me and holding me back, for Quong evidently heard our voices, and darted back among the trees.“Nonsense,” I said, struggling.“Keep back, I tell you. ’Tain’t safe. They don’t know it’s us, and somebody may shoot.”It was a foolish thing to do, but I wrested myself free and ran forward.As I did so I heard the ominousclick clickof a gun-lock, and stopped short.“Halt! Who’s that? Stand!” cried a deep voice; and the effect was so great upon me, that I felt like one in a nightmare trying to speak, but no words came.Esau was not so impressed, however, for he shouted wildly—“Hi! Don’t shoot. It’s only us. Mr Gunson there?”The boughs were parted, and the familiar figure of the prospector came out into the light, rifle in hand.“Why, Gordon!” he cried. “You? Glad to see you; you too, Dean. But that’s risky work, my lad. Don’t you know the old proverb—‘Let sleeping dogs lie’? I did not know you were friends, and these are dangerous times; I might have tried to bite.”He shook hands with us both as he spoke, and Quong came cautiously out from among the trees.“Ay, ay, ay!” he cried, beginning to caper about. “You come along? How de-do-di-do. Quong make hot flesh tea.”“No, no; they don’t want tea at this time of night.”“Yes, please give me some,” I said, for I was hot and faint with exertion. “I shall be glad of a mug.”“Hot flesh tea,” cried Quong, beginning to rake the fire together. “Makee cakee dleckly.”“Why, Gordon, what brings you here?” cried Mr Gunson. “You belong to the opposite camp. Raydon hasn’t let you come gold-washing?”“No,” I said, hurriedly. “Have you seen those men?”“What men? There are plenty about here.”“I mean those men you quarrelled with on the steamer about Quong.”“Eh? ’Bout Quong?” cried the little Chinaman, looking up sharply. “Bad man on puff-boat pullee tail neally off. No.”“Yes; they have been at the Fort to-day—yesterday—which is it—and they are down below yonder now.”“What, those fellows?” cried Gunson, excitedly; and he gave vent to a long low whistle. “That’s awkward.”“I was afraid you did not know,” I said, hurriedly. “I knew you were here, and I came to warn you. Mr Raydon—”“Sent you to warn me?” interrupted Gunson.“No,” I said; “we had to break out of the Fort to-night and come. Mr Raydon is not good friends with me.”“Humph!” ejaculated Gunson. “So you came to let me know?”“To put you on your guard,” I said. “Yes.”I saw him look at me fixedly for a few moments, and then in a half-morose way he nodded his head at me, saying—“Thank you, my lad—thank you too, Dean.”“Warn’t me,” said Esau, sourly. “It was him. I only come too.”“Well, it is awkward,” continued Gunson, after a few moments’ thought, “for I have got to the spot now that I have been looking for all these years.”“Then you’re finding lots of gold?” cried Esau, eagerly.“I am finding a little gold,” replied Gunson, quietly; “and Quong is too.”“Eh? Me findee gole?” cried Quong, looking up from the half-boiling kettle, and hastily-made cakes which he had thrust in the embers to bake. “Yes; findee lil bit, and put um in littlee bottle.”“But these men—will they attack you?” I said, anxiously.“Yes, if they find that I have a good claim. More than two, you say?”I told him all about the coming to the Fort, and how we had passed them down below. Gunson looked very serious for a while; then with a smile he said quietly—“Well, union is strength. Now you two lads have come, my force is doubled. You will stay with me now?”“No,” I said, firmly. “As soon as it is light I must go back to the Fort to our friends.”“But you have quarrelled with Mr Raydon, and after this night’s business he will not have you back.”“No,” cried Esau, eagerly. “Let’s stop and wash gold.”“And leave your mother,” I said, “for the sake of that.”“I wish you wouldn’t be so nasty, Mayne Gordon,” cried Esau. “Who’s a-going to leave his mother? Ain’t I trying to get a lot o’ money so as to make her well off?”“We cannot stay,” I said. “I don’t want Mr Raydon and my friends—”“They have arrived then?”“Yes,” I said. “What would they think if I ran off like this?”“Humph! you’re a strange lad. You take French leave, and come to warn me. They fire at you, and hunt you with that great hound, and yet you are going back!”“Yes,” I said, “as soon as it is light; Esau too.”“And suppose old Raydon won’t have us back?” cried Esau.“But he will when he knows why I came.”“I am not so sure,” said Gunson. “Well, I suppose you are right.”“No, no,” cried Esau. “I meant to stop along with you. I shan’t go. If I do, it’ll be to fetch mother.”I told Esau I did not believe him, and Gunson went on—“It’s awkward about those fellows, for at present might is right up here. The worst of it is, Quong can’t fight.”“No fightee,” said Quong, looking up sharply. “Melican man fightee. Quong makee flesh tea, talkee ploper English. Makee flesh blead all hot. Hot closs bun.”“I should like to stay with you, Mr Gunson,” I said; “and it is very tempting. But I must go back.”“And if Mr Raydon refuses to have you, my lads, come back, and I’ll make you as welcome as I can.”“Flesh tea all leady,” said Quong; and I was soon after gladly partaking of the simple meal, close to the spot where I had met with the terrible accident six months before.Before we lay down for a few hours’ rest, I wanted to tell him more about my trouble, and how Mr Raydon suspected me. I wanted to ask him too how he had found out about this spot. But Esau was lying close by me, and I suspected him of playing a double part. I felt sure just then that he had been Gunson’s informant, so I had to put it all off till a more favourable opportunity; and while I was thinking this I dropped off fast asleep.

After a whispered consultation we crept on again through the trees, until we could see a good-sized fire blazing and sparkling close down by the side of the pool, and about it—some asleep, some sitting resting, and others talking—were a group of rough-looking men, whom we had not much difficulty in making out to be our visitors at the Fort.

It was plain enough. They had come down after leaving us, and had camped there for the night, perhaps found gold there; and this was their station. If so, Gunson must be higher up and safe.

I whispered my ideas to Esau, who thought for a few minutes before speaking.

“No,” he said, “I don’t believe they’d stop here. But p’r’aps they’re quite new-comers. What shall we do?”

“Get by them,” I said resolutely. “We must hurry on to Mr Gunson now.”

“But how?” he whispered. “Ain’t they stopping up all the road?”

“Not all,” I said. “Let’s go down on our hands again, and creep by.”

“All right, only you go first, and be careful. Mind, if they see us they’ll fire.”

I don’t know whether it was recklessness or desperation. I had felt timid, and had shrunk from the task at first; but now that I felt I must go on, the dread had pretty well passed away.

Going down on my hands and knees, I found to my great satisfaction that the fire was invisible; and if so, of course we must be out of sight of the men about it. I whispered this to Esau, who responded by a grunt, which, added to his position, made him bear a strong resemblance to an animal, and for the moment it amused me, and took my attention from the difficulty of my task.

We had had to leave the track, and our way was amongst blocks of stone covered with moss, between which short stiff patches of bush grew, making our passage difficult, and not to be accomplished without noise.

But I kept on with the light on my left, knowing that if I kept it in that position I must be going in the correct direction; and it was necessary to keep this in mind, as every now and then a tree or a block of stone forced me to diverge.

The men were talking loudly, and now and then there arose a rough burst of laughter, while there was no doubt about who the party were, for I heard an allusion made to the Fort.

Just then, as we were about level with the fire, a piece of a branch upon which I pressed my knee gave a loud crack, and the conversation ceased instantly.

We neither of us moved, but crouched there, listening to our beating hearts, and expecting to have either a shot sent in our direction, or to see part of the men come rushing toward us.

At last, after what seemed to be quite ten minutes, a voice said—

“Hear that?”

“Yes,” was growled.

“What was it?”

“Don’t know.”

They began talking again slowly, and by degrees the conversation grew general and loud.

“Go along,” I whispered, after carefully removing the dead branch, and once more our rustling progress began.

Oh, how slow it was, and how I longed to jump up and run. But we were in the opening of the little valley now, and our only chance was to creep on till we were well beyond the light cast by the fire, and so we persevered.

At last, after creeping along inch by inch, we paused, for in front of us the undergrowth ceased, and I saw an open patch of sand faintly lit by the fire, and across this we must pass to reach the shelter beyond.

“Go on first,” whispered Esau, and, drawing alongbreath, I started, going as silently and quickly as I could into the darkness of the shelter beyond, and turned to look at Esau.

From where I knelt I could see the fire clearly, and as he came across, I was thinking how animal-like he looked, when I fancied I saw a movement, and before I could be sure, there was a flash, a loud report, and a twig dropped from over my head upon one of my hands.

“Bear! bear!” shouted a voice, and the men sprang to their feet. But by this time Esau was alongside of me, and rising up we hurried along in a stooping position, leaving the eager voices more and more behind, the men being evidently hunting for the bear one of them believed that he had shot.

“Was he firing at me?” said Esau.

“Yes; he saw you, I suppose.”

“But he might have hit me,” cried Esau, indignantly. “Chaps like that have no business to be trusted with guns.”

“Hist!”

“Come on, lads,” we heard plainly. “I’m sure I hit him.”

“Don’t be a fool,” cried another voice. “Wait till daylight. Do you want to be clawed?”

“Shall I roar?” whispered Esau.

“Don’t—don’t, whatever you do,” I whispered back in alarm, for I had not the slightest faith in my companion’s imitation, and felt certain that we should be found out.

The men too seemed to be coming on, but in a few minutes the rustling and breaking of wood ceased, and we crept on again for a little way; and then, with the light of the fire reduced to a faint glow, we stood upright and began to ascend the little valley at a fairly rapid rate for the darkness.

“What an escape!” I said, breathing more freely now.

“That’s what I ought to say,” grumbled Esau. “That bullet came close by me.”

“And by me too,” I replied. “I felt a twig that it cut off fall upon me. But never mind as we were not hit.”

“But I do mind,” grumbled Esau. “I didn’t come out here to be shot at.”

“Don’t talk,” I said. “Perhaps we shall come upon another camp before long.”

I proved to be right, for at the end of an hour we came upon a rough tent, so dimly seen that we should have passed it where it stood, so much canvas thrown over a ridge pole, if we had not been warned by a low snoring sound.

We crept down to the waterside, and slowly edged our way on; but when we were some fifty yards farther we stopped to consider our position.

“S’pose that’s old Gunson,” said Esau, “and we’re going away from him now?”

The idea struck me too, but I set it triumphantly aside directly.

“If it were Mr Gunson there would be a fire, and most likely Quong keeping watch. Besides, we don’t know that he had a tent like that.”

“No, he hadn’t got a tent,” assented Esau; and we went on, to find that at every quarter of a mile there was a tent or a fire; and it soon became evident that the solitary little valley we had explored on the day of my accident was rapidly getting to hold a population of its own.

We had passed several of these busy encampments, and were beginning to despair of finding Mr Gunson, when, as nearly as we could guess in the darkness, just about where we washed the gold, we came upon a fire, whose warm yellow glow lit up a huge pine, and at the scene before us we stopped to reconnoitre.

“That’s where I was cutting the tree,” muttered Esau; “and—yes, there’s old Quong. Look!”

Sure enough there was the yellow-faced, quaint little fellow coming out of the darkness into the light to bend down and carefully lay some fresh wood upon the fire, after which he slowly began to walk back.

Mr Gunson must be here, I thought, for Quong would naturally be drawn to him as a strong man who would protect him.

“Come along,” I said; “we are right after all.”

“No, no, stop!” he cried, seizing me and holding me back, for Quong evidently heard our voices, and darted back among the trees.

“Nonsense,” I said, struggling.

“Keep back, I tell you. ’Tain’t safe. They don’t know it’s us, and somebody may shoot.”

It was a foolish thing to do, but I wrested myself free and ran forward.

As I did so I heard the ominousclick clickof a gun-lock, and stopped short.

“Halt! Who’s that? Stand!” cried a deep voice; and the effect was so great upon me, that I felt like one in a nightmare trying to speak, but no words came.

Esau was not so impressed, however, for he shouted wildly—

“Hi! Don’t shoot. It’s only us. Mr Gunson there?”

The boughs were parted, and the familiar figure of the prospector came out into the light, rifle in hand.

“Why, Gordon!” he cried. “You? Glad to see you; you too, Dean. But that’s risky work, my lad. Don’t you know the old proverb—‘Let sleeping dogs lie’? I did not know you were friends, and these are dangerous times; I might have tried to bite.”

He shook hands with us both as he spoke, and Quong came cautiously out from among the trees.

“Ay, ay, ay!” he cried, beginning to caper about. “You come along? How de-do-di-do. Quong make hot flesh tea.”

“No, no; they don’t want tea at this time of night.”

“Yes, please give me some,” I said, for I was hot and faint with exertion. “I shall be glad of a mug.”

“Hot flesh tea,” cried Quong, beginning to rake the fire together. “Makee cakee dleckly.”

“Why, Gordon, what brings you here?” cried Mr Gunson. “You belong to the opposite camp. Raydon hasn’t let you come gold-washing?”

“No,” I said, hurriedly. “Have you seen those men?”

“What men? There are plenty about here.”

“I mean those men you quarrelled with on the steamer about Quong.”

“Eh? ’Bout Quong?” cried the little Chinaman, looking up sharply. “Bad man on puff-boat pullee tail neally off. No.”

“Yes; they have been at the Fort to-day—yesterday—which is it—and they are down below yonder now.”

“What, those fellows?” cried Gunson, excitedly; and he gave vent to a long low whistle. “That’s awkward.”

“I was afraid you did not know,” I said, hurriedly. “I knew you were here, and I came to warn you. Mr Raydon—”

“Sent you to warn me?” interrupted Gunson.

“No,” I said; “we had to break out of the Fort to-night and come. Mr Raydon is not good friends with me.”

“Humph!” ejaculated Gunson. “So you came to let me know?”

“To put you on your guard,” I said. “Yes.”

I saw him look at me fixedly for a few moments, and then in a half-morose way he nodded his head at me, saying—

“Thank you, my lad—thank you too, Dean.”

“Warn’t me,” said Esau, sourly. “It was him. I only come too.”

“Well, it is awkward,” continued Gunson, after a few moments’ thought, “for I have got to the spot now that I have been looking for all these years.”

“Then you’re finding lots of gold?” cried Esau, eagerly.

“I am finding a little gold,” replied Gunson, quietly; “and Quong is too.”

“Eh? Me findee gole?” cried Quong, looking up from the half-boiling kettle, and hastily-made cakes which he had thrust in the embers to bake. “Yes; findee lil bit, and put um in littlee bottle.”

“But these men—will they attack you?” I said, anxiously.

“Yes, if they find that I have a good claim. More than two, you say?”

I told him all about the coming to the Fort, and how we had passed them down below. Gunson looked very serious for a while; then with a smile he said quietly—

“Well, union is strength. Now you two lads have come, my force is doubled. You will stay with me now?”

“No,” I said, firmly. “As soon as it is light I must go back to the Fort to our friends.”

“But you have quarrelled with Mr Raydon, and after this night’s business he will not have you back.”

“No,” cried Esau, eagerly. “Let’s stop and wash gold.”

“And leave your mother,” I said, “for the sake of that.”

“I wish you wouldn’t be so nasty, Mayne Gordon,” cried Esau. “Who’s a-going to leave his mother? Ain’t I trying to get a lot o’ money so as to make her well off?”

“We cannot stay,” I said. “I don’t want Mr Raydon and my friends—”

“They have arrived then?”

“Yes,” I said. “What would they think if I ran off like this?”

“Humph! you’re a strange lad. You take French leave, and come to warn me. They fire at you, and hunt you with that great hound, and yet you are going back!”

“Yes,” I said, “as soon as it is light; Esau too.”

“And suppose old Raydon won’t have us back?” cried Esau.

“But he will when he knows why I came.”

“I am not so sure,” said Gunson. “Well, I suppose you are right.”

“No, no,” cried Esau. “I meant to stop along with you. I shan’t go. If I do, it’ll be to fetch mother.”

I told Esau I did not believe him, and Gunson went on—

“It’s awkward about those fellows, for at present might is right up here. The worst of it is, Quong can’t fight.”

“No fightee,” said Quong, looking up sharply. “Melican man fightee. Quong makee flesh tea, talkee ploper English. Makee flesh blead all hot. Hot closs bun.”

“I should like to stay with you, Mr Gunson,” I said; “and it is very tempting. But I must go back.”

“And if Mr Raydon refuses to have you, my lads, come back, and I’ll make you as welcome as I can.”

“Flesh tea all leady,” said Quong; and I was soon after gladly partaking of the simple meal, close to the spot where I had met with the terrible accident six months before.

Before we lay down for a few hours’ rest, I wanted to tell him more about my trouble, and how Mr Raydon suspected me. I wanted to ask him too how he had found out about this spot. But Esau was lying close by me, and I suspected him of playing a double part. I felt sure just then that he had been Gunson’s informant, so I had to put it all off till a more favourable opportunity; and while I was thinking this I dropped off fast asleep.

Chapter Forty Four.Grey’s Message.“Flesh tea allee leady,” cried a familiar voice in my ear; and I started up to see the sun peering over the edge of the mountains to light up the beautiful opalescent mists floating below. There was the scent of the bruised pine-boughs where I lay, and a more familiar one wafted from the fire—that of hot, newly-made bread.“Yes, all right, I’m getting up,” grunted Esau; and directly after we went down to the stream and had a good wash, finding Gunson waiting by the fire and watching the frizzling of some slices of bacon on our return.“Good morning,” he said. “Come and have your breakfast. Well,” he continued, as we began, “what’s it to be? Going back?”“Yes,” I said, “directly after breakfast.”“Oh!” cried Esau.“I can’t help it, Esau; we must. We are in honour bound.”“And we might make our fortunes.”“You leave me, then, to the mercy of those scoundrels down below?” said Gunson, drily.“I am only a boy, sir,” I said; “how can I fight for you? I’ll beg Mr Raydon to send help to you though, directly.”“Yes; do, my lad. I shall be in rather a dangerous position. Say I beg of him to try and give me protection, for though I am fighting against him here, all this was sure to come, and I might as well grow rich as any one else.”I promised eagerly that I would; and we were hurrying through our breakfast, when there was the trampling of feet and the breaking of wood just below.Gunson looked up and seized his rifle, to stand ready; and directly after a man strode out of the dense forest and stood before us.“Grey!” I exclaimed, wonderingly.“Yes,” he said, stolidly. “Morning.”“Have some breakfast?” said Gunson.“Yes. Bit hungry,” said Grey. Then turning to me and Esau—“Chief says I’m to tell you both that as you have chosen to throw in your lot with Mr Gunson here, you are not to come back to the Fort again.”I dropped my knife and sat half stunned, wondering what Mr and Mrs John would say; and as I recovered myself, it seemed as if when a few words of explanation would have set everything right, those words were never to be spoken.Esau had been as strongly affected as I was; but he recovered himself first.“Not to come back to the Fort again?” he cried.“No,” said Grey, with his mouth full. “Chief said if you were so mad after gold, you might go mad both of you.”“Hurray!” cried Esau. “Then I’m going to be mad as a hatter with hats full.”“Right,” said Grey, stolidly, as he munched away at the cake and bacon. “You’re in the right spot.”“But hold hard,” cried Esau, as another thought struck him. “This won’t do. He ain’t going to keep her shut up in the Fort. I want my mother.”“Right,” said Grey, setting down the tin mug out of which he drank his hot tea. “I’ll tell him you want your mother.”“Yes, do. I don’t mind. I wanted to come up here.”“Well, Gordon, what have you to say?” cried Mr Gunson. “Any message to send back?”“Yes,” I said, flushing and speaking sharply. “Tell Mr Raydon—no, tell Mr and Mrs John that I have been cruelly misjudged, and that some day they will know the whole truth.”“Right,” said Grey. “I won’t forget. Nothing to say to the chief?”“No,” I said; “nothing.”“Yes; a word from me,” said Gunson. “Tell him that something ought to be done to preserve order here, for the people are collecting fast, and some of them the roughest of the rough.”“Yes,” said Grey. “I’ll tell him; but he knows already; we had a taste of ’em yesterday. Anything else?”“No,” said Gunson; “only that perhaps I may want to send to him for help.”“Best way’s to help yourselves,” said Grey, at last rising from a hearty breakfast. “Good-bye, my lads,” he said, “till we run agen each other later on. I say,” he continued, after shouldering his rifle, “did you two lads bring away guns?”“No,” I said; “of course not.”“Haven’t got any then. How many have you?” he continued, turning to Gunson.“Only my own and a revolver.”“Lend you mine, young Mr Gordon,” he said, handing it to me, and then unstrapping his ammunition-belt, and with it his revolver in its holster. “Better buy yourself one first chance, and then you can send mine back. Take care of the tackle; it’s all good.”“Thank you, Grey,” said Gunson, grasping his hand. “You couldn’t have made him a better loan. I won’t forget it.”“Course you won’t. Nor him neither, I know.”“Ain’t got another, have you?” said Esau.Grey shook his head.“Good-bye,” he said.“I say, tell mother not to fret, I’m all right,” cried Esau.“And give old Rough a pat on the head for me,” I cried.“I will. Nice game you had with him last night,” said Grey, laughing. “Too good friends with you to lay hold.”“Oh, was I, sir?” cried Esau; “he’s made one of my trousers knee-breeches. Look!”He held up his leg, where the piece had been torn off below the knee, and Grey laughed as he went and disappeared in the forest that fringed the banks of the stream.“Then now we can begin gold-digging in real earnest,” cried Esau, excitedly. “I say, Mr Gunson, how’s it going to be?”“What, my lad?”“Each keep all he finds?”“We’ll see about that later on,” said Gunson, sternly. “There will be no gold-washing yet.”Esau stared.“There are too many enemies afoot. I am going to wait and see if those men come up this way. If they do, there will be enough work to maintain our claim, for, setting aside any ill-feeling against me, they may want to turn us off.”“Well, they are ugly customers,” said Esau, rubbing one ear. “I say, do you think they’ll come to fight?”“If they think that this is a rich claim, nothing is more likely.”“And I say,” cried Esau, “I didn’t mean that.”“If you feel afraid you had better go. I dare say you can overtake that man.”“But I don’t want to go.”“Then stay.”“But I don’t want to fight.”“Then go.”“But there ain’t nowhere to go, and—Oh, I say, Mayne Gordon, what is a fellow to do?”“Do what I do,” I said, quickly.“What’s that?”“Trust to Mr Gunson the same as we have done before.”“Thank you, Mayne Gordon,” said Gunson, laying his hand on my shoulder; “but I hardly like exposing you to risk.”“The danger has not come yet,” I said, smiling, though I confess to feeling uncomfortable. “Perhaps it never will.”“At any rate we must be prepared,” said Gunson. “Only to think of it! What a little thing influences our careers! I little fancied when I protected that poor little fellow on board the steamer, that in so doing I was jeopardising my prospects just when I was about to make the success of my life.”“It is unfortunate,” I said.“Unfortunate, boy?—it is maddening. But for this I should once more have been a rich man.”I looked at him curiously, and he saw it.“Yes,” he said, laughingly, “once more a rich man.”“Is one any the happier for being rich?” I said.“Not a bit, my lad. I was rich once, and was a miserable idiot. Mayne, I left college to find myself suddenly in possession of a good fortune,” he continued, pausing excitedly now, and speaking quicker, for Esau had strolled off to a little distance with Quong. “Instead of making good use of it, I listened to a contemptible crew who gathered about me, and wasted my money rapidly in various kinds of gambling, so that at the end of a year I was not only penniless, but face to face with half a dozen heavy debts of honour which I knew I must pay or be disgraced. Bah! why am I telling you all this?”“No, no; don’t stop,” I said eagerly; “tell me all.”“Well,” he said, “I will; for I like you, Mayne, and have from the day we first met on board theAlbatross. It may be a warning to you. No: I will not insult you by thinking you could ever grow up as I did. For to make up for my losings, I wildly plunged more deeply into the wretched morass, and then in my desperation went to my sister and mother for help.”“And they helped you?” I said, for he paused.“Of course, for they loved me in spite of my follies. It was for the last time, I told them, and they signed away every shilling of their fortunes, Mayne, to enable me to pay my debts. And then—”“And then?” I said, for he had paused again.“And then I had the world before me, Mayne,” he said, sadly. “I was free, but I had set myself the task of making money to restore my mother and sister to their old position. I tried first in London, but soon found out it would be vain to try and save a hundredth part of what I ought to pay them, so I tried adventure. There were rumours of gold being discovered in Australia, then in the Malay Peninsula, and again at the Cape, so I went to each place in turn and failed. Other men made fortunes, but I was always unlucky, till once at the Cape, where I hit upon a place that promised well, but my luck was always against me. My tent was attacked one night, and I was left senseless, to come to myself next morning, and find that I had been robbed, and so cruelly ill-used that the sight of one eye was gone for ever, and there was nothing left for me to do but sell my claim for enough money to take me back to England amongst my poor people to be nursed back to health. Then, as I grew strong again, there came rumours of the gold in British Columbia, and I started once more, taking passage as a poor man in the steerage, and meeting on board one Mayne Gordon, with whom I became friends. Am I right?”“Indeed, yes,” I cried, giving him my hand.“That’s well,” he said, smiling. “Since then I have worked, as you know, for the golden prize that, if it does not make those at home happy, will place them far above want, but always without success, passing away from Fort Elk, when there was abundance near, and returning poorer than I went, to find out quite by accident that here was indeed the golden land. Mayne, I have gold worth hundreds of pounds already hidden away safe.”“I am very, very glad,” I cried. “But I want to know—”“Yes?” he said, for I had stopped.“Have you—no, not now,” for just then Esau came up to us.“Look here, my lad,” said Gunson, quickly, “I sincerely hope that we may never have cause to use weapons against our fellow-men; but we must be prepared for emergencies. Do you know how to handle a revolver?”Esau shook his head.“Hit ever so much harder with my fists,” he said.“But that will not do. The sight of our weapons may keep evil visitors off. Let me show you how to load and fire.”“Will it kick?” said Esau.“Not if you hold it tightly. Now, look here.”And as I looked on, Mr Gunson showed Esau how to load and fire, and generally how to handle the weapon, the lesson acting as well for me.“There,” said Mr Gunson at last, “you ought to be a valuable help to me now; for the beauty of a weapon like this is, that the very sight of its barrel will keep most men at a distance; and if they come I hope it will these.”“Did yesterday, didn’t it?” said Esau, laughingly, to me.“Now,” said Gunson, “about your rifle, Mayne; can you manage it?”“I think so,” I said; and I handled it in a way which satisfied my master.“That’s right,” he said. “Never mind about hitting. To fire is the thing; the noise will, I hope, scare enemies. Now if Quong could be of some use, it would make a show of four defenders; but we know of old his strong point.”“Getting up a tree,” I said, laughing.“Exactly. Perhaps he could throw boiling water, but I shall not ask him to do that. There, we are all right; every force must have a commissariat department, and some general once said that an army fights upon its stomach. We’ll have him to feed us, while we keep guard about the place.”“And won’t you wash for gold at all?” said Esau, in a disappointed tone of voice.“No, nor yet mention it,” said Gunson, firmly. “To all intents and purposes there is no gold here whatever. We are settlers, and we are going to hold this spot. You see, there is our brand on that tree.”As he spoke he pointed to the mark we had cut on the great fir-tree hard by, and I could not help a shudder as I recollected the events of that day.The morning passed, and the afternoon came without our hearing a sound but those made by the birds and squirrels, and after partaking of a meal we began to look anxiously for the night as the time of danger; but we saw the ruddy blaze of light die out on snow-topped peaks, and then the pale stars begin to appear.“This place is wonderfully like Switzerland in parts,” said Gunson, as we sat near the fire always on thequi vivefor danger; and in a low voice he chatted to us till it was quite night, and the sky was a blaze of stars.“I think we may sleep in peace to-night,” said Gunson, and he was a true prophet, for, though I woke twice with a start of fear, the noise which had wakened me was only caused by Quong going to throw some wood upon the fire, which he never suffered to die out, but coaxed on so as to have a plentiful heap of hot ashes in which to bake.Two days passed in peace, and then a third, with the inaction telling upon us all. For we were constantly on the strain, and the slightest sound suggested the coming of an enemy.“You see we cannot stir,” Gunson said to me. “We must keep together. If one of us played spy and reconnoitred, the chances are that the enemy would come while we were away.”“But what does Quong say?” I asked. “He went down the stream last night.”“That there are thirty parties between here and the river, and that means some of them are new-comers, making their way up here before long. To-morrow we shall have to send him to the Fort to beg for food.”“But there is a store lower down, Quong told me.”“Yes, and to buy off the people at their exorbitant prices, I shall have to pay with gold, and for the present I wish to avoid showing that there is any here.”The next day dawned, and was passing as the others had passed, for Mr Gunson was hesitating still about sending Quong for provisions, that little gentleman having announced that there would be “plenty bread, plenty tea, plenty bacon for another day.”“Mayne,” said Mr Gunson, as the sun was getting low, “I think I shall go down the stream to-night, and see if those men are there. Perhaps, after all, we are scared about nothing; they may have gone up another of the valleys instead of this, and found gold in abundance—who knows? But I must end this suspense some—”He started, for I was pointing down stream at something moving.“Is that a deer?” I whispered; and before he could answer a voice cried—“Come on, lads, it’s more open up here, and it looks a likely spot.”

“Flesh tea allee leady,” cried a familiar voice in my ear; and I started up to see the sun peering over the edge of the mountains to light up the beautiful opalescent mists floating below. There was the scent of the bruised pine-boughs where I lay, and a more familiar one wafted from the fire—that of hot, newly-made bread.

“Yes, all right, I’m getting up,” grunted Esau; and directly after we went down to the stream and had a good wash, finding Gunson waiting by the fire and watching the frizzling of some slices of bacon on our return.

“Good morning,” he said. “Come and have your breakfast. Well,” he continued, as we began, “what’s it to be? Going back?”

“Yes,” I said, “directly after breakfast.”

“Oh!” cried Esau.

“I can’t help it, Esau; we must. We are in honour bound.”

“And we might make our fortunes.”

“You leave me, then, to the mercy of those scoundrels down below?” said Gunson, drily.

“I am only a boy, sir,” I said; “how can I fight for you? I’ll beg Mr Raydon to send help to you though, directly.”

“Yes; do, my lad. I shall be in rather a dangerous position. Say I beg of him to try and give me protection, for though I am fighting against him here, all this was sure to come, and I might as well grow rich as any one else.”

I promised eagerly that I would; and we were hurrying through our breakfast, when there was the trampling of feet and the breaking of wood just below.

Gunson looked up and seized his rifle, to stand ready; and directly after a man strode out of the dense forest and stood before us.

“Grey!” I exclaimed, wonderingly.

“Yes,” he said, stolidly. “Morning.”

“Have some breakfast?” said Gunson.

“Yes. Bit hungry,” said Grey. Then turning to me and Esau—“Chief says I’m to tell you both that as you have chosen to throw in your lot with Mr Gunson here, you are not to come back to the Fort again.”

I dropped my knife and sat half stunned, wondering what Mr and Mrs John would say; and as I recovered myself, it seemed as if when a few words of explanation would have set everything right, those words were never to be spoken.

Esau had been as strongly affected as I was; but he recovered himself first.

“Not to come back to the Fort again?” he cried.

“No,” said Grey, with his mouth full. “Chief said if you were so mad after gold, you might go mad both of you.”

“Hurray!” cried Esau. “Then I’m going to be mad as a hatter with hats full.”

“Right,” said Grey, stolidly, as he munched away at the cake and bacon. “You’re in the right spot.”

“But hold hard,” cried Esau, as another thought struck him. “This won’t do. He ain’t going to keep her shut up in the Fort. I want my mother.”

“Right,” said Grey, setting down the tin mug out of which he drank his hot tea. “I’ll tell him you want your mother.”

“Yes, do. I don’t mind. I wanted to come up here.”

“Well, Gordon, what have you to say?” cried Mr Gunson. “Any message to send back?”

“Yes,” I said, flushing and speaking sharply. “Tell Mr Raydon—no, tell Mr and Mrs John that I have been cruelly misjudged, and that some day they will know the whole truth.”

“Right,” said Grey. “I won’t forget. Nothing to say to the chief?”

“No,” I said; “nothing.”

“Yes; a word from me,” said Gunson. “Tell him that something ought to be done to preserve order here, for the people are collecting fast, and some of them the roughest of the rough.”

“Yes,” said Grey. “I’ll tell him; but he knows already; we had a taste of ’em yesterday. Anything else?”

“No,” said Gunson; “only that perhaps I may want to send to him for help.”

“Best way’s to help yourselves,” said Grey, at last rising from a hearty breakfast. “Good-bye, my lads,” he said, “till we run agen each other later on. I say,” he continued, after shouldering his rifle, “did you two lads bring away guns?”

“No,” I said; “of course not.”

“Haven’t got any then. How many have you?” he continued, turning to Gunson.

“Only my own and a revolver.”

“Lend you mine, young Mr Gordon,” he said, handing it to me, and then unstrapping his ammunition-belt, and with it his revolver in its holster. “Better buy yourself one first chance, and then you can send mine back. Take care of the tackle; it’s all good.”

“Thank you, Grey,” said Gunson, grasping his hand. “You couldn’t have made him a better loan. I won’t forget it.”

“Course you won’t. Nor him neither, I know.”

“Ain’t got another, have you?” said Esau.

Grey shook his head.

“Good-bye,” he said.

“I say, tell mother not to fret, I’m all right,” cried Esau.

“And give old Rough a pat on the head for me,” I cried.

“I will. Nice game you had with him last night,” said Grey, laughing. “Too good friends with you to lay hold.”

“Oh, was I, sir?” cried Esau; “he’s made one of my trousers knee-breeches. Look!”

He held up his leg, where the piece had been torn off below the knee, and Grey laughed as he went and disappeared in the forest that fringed the banks of the stream.

“Then now we can begin gold-digging in real earnest,” cried Esau, excitedly. “I say, Mr Gunson, how’s it going to be?”

“What, my lad?”

“Each keep all he finds?”

“We’ll see about that later on,” said Gunson, sternly. “There will be no gold-washing yet.”

Esau stared.

“There are too many enemies afoot. I am going to wait and see if those men come up this way. If they do, there will be enough work to maintain our claim, for, setting aside any ill-feeling against me, they may want to turn us off.”

“Well, they are ugly customers,” said Esau, rubbing one ear. “I say, do you think they’ll come to fight?”

“If they think that this is a rich claim, nothing is more likely.”

“And I say,” cried Esau, “I didn’t mean that.”

“If you feel afraid you had better go. I dare say you can overtake that man.”

“But I don’t want to go.”

“Then stay.”

“But I don’t want to fight.”

“Then go.”

“But there ain’t nowhere to go, and—Oh, I say, Mayne Gordon, what is a fellow to do?”

“Do what I do,” I said, quickly.

“What’s that?”

“Trust to Mr Gunson the same as we have done before.”

“Thank you, Mayne Gordon,” said Gunson, laying his hand on my shoulder; “but I hardly like exposing you to risk.”

“The danger has not come yet,” I said, smiling, though I confess to feeling uncomfortable. “Perhaps it never will.”

“At any rate we must be prepared,” said Gunson. “Only to think of it! What a little thing influences our careers! I little fancied when I protected that poor little fellow on board the steamer, that in so doing I was jeopardising my prospects just when I was about to make the success of my life.”

“It is unfortunate,” I said.

“Unfortunate, boy?—it is maddening. But for this I should once more have been a rich man.”

I looked at him curiously, and he saw it.

“Yes,” he said, laughingly, “once more a rich man.”

“Is one any the happier for being rich?” I said.

“Not a bit, my lad. I was rich once, and was a miserable idiot. Mayne, I left college to find myself suddenly in possession of a good fortune,” he continued, pausing excitedly now, and speaking quicker, for Esau had strolled off to a little distance with Quong. “Instead of making good use of it, I listened to a contemptible crew who gathered about me, and wasted my money rapidly in various kinds of gambling, so that at the end of a year I was not only penniless, but face to face with half a dozen heavy debts of honour which I knew I must pay or be disgraced. Bah! why am I telling you all this?”

“No, no; don’t stop,” I said eagerly; “tell me all.”

“Well,” he said, “I will; for I like you, Mayne, and have from the day we first met on board theAlbatross. It may be a warning to you. No: I will not insult you by thinking you could ever grow up as I did. For to make up for my losings, I wildly plunged more deeply into the wretched morass, and then in my desperation went to my sister and mother for help.”

“And they helped you?” I said, for he paused.

“Of course, for they loved me in spite of my follies. It was for the last time, I told them, and they signed away every shilling of their fortunes, Mayne, to enable me to pay my debts. And then—”

“And then?” I said, for he had paused again.

“And then I had the world before me, Mayne,” he said, sadly. “I was free, but I had set myself the task of making money to restore my mother and sister to their old position. I tried first in London, but soon found out it would be vain to try and save a hundredth part of what I ought to pay them, so I tried adventure. There were rumours of gold being discovered in Australia, then in the Malay Peninsula, and again at the Cape, so I went to each place in turn and failed. Other men made fortunes, but I was always unlucky, till once at the Cape, where I hit upon a place that promised well, but my luck was always against me. My tent was attacked one night, and I was left senseless, to come to myself next morning, and find that I had been robbed, and so cruelly ill-used that the sight of one eye was gone for ever, and there was nothing left for me to do but sell my claim for enough money to take me back to England amongst my poor people to be nursed back to health. Then, as I grew strong again, there came rumours of the gold in British Columbia, and I started once more, taking passage as a poor man in the steerage, and meeting on board one Mayne Gordon, with whom I became friends. Am I right?”

“Indeed, yes,” I cried, giving him my hand.

“That’s well,” he said, smiling. “Since then I have worked, as you know, for the golden prize that, if it does not make those at home happy, will place them far above want, but always without success, passing away from Fort Elk, when there was abundance near, and returning poorer than I went, to find out quite by accident that here was indeed the golden land. Mayne, I have gold worth hundreds of pounds already hidden away safe.”

“I am very, very glad,” I cried. “But I want to know—”

“Yes?” he said, for I had stopped.

“Have you—no, not now,” for just then Esau came up to us.

“Look here, my lad,” said Gunson, quickly, “I sincerely hope that we may never have cause to use weapons against our fellow-men; but we must be prepared for emergencies. Do you know how to handle a revolver?”

Esau shook his head.

“Hit ever so much harder with my fists,” he said.

“But that will not do. The sight of our weapons may keep evil visitors off. Let me show you how to load and fire.”

“Will it kick?” said Esau.

“Not if you hold it tightly. Now, look here.”

And as I looked on, Mr Gunson showed Esau how to load and fire, and generally how to handle the weapon, the lesson acting as well for me.

“There,” said Mr Gunson at last, “you ought to be a valuable help to me now; for the beauty of a weapon like this is, that the very sight of its barrel will keep most men at a distance; and if they come I hope it will these.”

“Did yesterday, didn’t it?” said Esau, laughingly, to me.

“Now,” said Gunson, “about your rifle, Mayne; can you manage it?”

“I think so,” I said; and I handled it in a way which satisfied my master.

“That’s right,” he said. “Never mind about hitting. To fire is the thing; the noise will, I hope, scare enemies. Now if Quong could be of some use, it would make a show of four defenders; but we know of old his strong point.”

“Getting up a tree,” I said, laughing.

“Exactly. Perhaps he could throw boiling water, but I shall not ask him to do that. There, we are all right; every force must have a commissariat department, and some general once said that an army fights upon its stomach. We’ll have him to feed us, while we keep guard about the place.”

“And won’t you wash for gold at all?” said Esau, in a disappointed tone of voice.

“No, nor yet mention it,” said Gunson, firmly. “To all intents and purposes there is no gold here whatever. We are settlers, and we are going to hold this spot. You see, there is our brand on that tree.”

As he spoke he pointed to the mark we had cut on the great fir-tree hard by, and I could not help a shudder as I recollected the events of that day.

The morning passed, and the afternoon came without our hearing a sound but those made by the birds and squirrels, and after partaking of a meal we began to look anxiously for the night as the time of danger; but we saw the ruddy blaze of light die out on snow-topped peaks, and then the pale stars begin to appear.

“This place is wonderfully like Switzerland in parts,” said Gunson, as we sat near the fire always on thequi vivefor danger; and in a low voice he chatted to us till it was quite night, and the sky was a blaze of stars.

“I think we may sleep in peace to-night,” said Gunson, and he was a true prophet, for, though I woke twice with a start of fear, the noise which had wakened me was only caused by Quong going to throw some wood upon the fire, which he never suffered to die out, but coaxed on so as to have a plentiful heap of hot ashes in which to bake.

Two days passed in peace, and then a third, with the inaction telling upon us all. For we were constantly on the strain, and the slightest sound suggested the coming of an enemy.

“You see we cannot stir,” Gunson said to me. “We must keep together. If one of us played spy and reconnoitred, the chances are that the enemy would come while we were away.”

“But what does Quong say?” I asked. “He went down the stream last night.”

“That there are thirty parties between here and the river, and that means some of them are new-comers, making their way up here before long. To-morrow we shall have to send him to the Fort to beg for food.”

“But there is a store lower down, Quong told me.”

“Yes, and to buy off the people at their exorbitant prices, I shall have to pay with gold, and for the present I wish to avoid showing that there is any here.”

The next day dawned, and was passing as the others had passed, for Mr Gunson was hesitating still about sending Quong for provisions, that little gentleman having announced that there would be “plenty bread, plenty tea, plenty bacon for another day.”

“Mayne,” said Mr Gunson, as the sun was getting low, “I think I shall go down the stream to-night, and see if those men are there. Perhaps, after all, we are scared about nothing; they may have gone up another of the valleys instead of this, and found gold in abundance—who knows? But I must end this suspense some—”

He started, for I was pointing down stream at something moving.

“Is that a deer?” I whispered; and before he could answer a voice cried—

“Come on, lads, it’s more open up here, and it looks a likely spot.”

Chapter Forty Five.Gunson’s Decision.“Sit fast,” said Gunson, “both of you. Don’t make any sign, and leave me to speak. But mind, if I say ‘Tent,’ run both of you to the tent, and seize your weapons ready to do what I say.”I gave him a nod, and sat with beating heart watching the moving figure, which directly after caught sight of us.“Hullo!” he said; “some one here?” Then turning, “Look sharp, some of you.”Both Gunson and I had recognised the man as Quong’s principal assailant, and I glanced sharply toward the Chinaman, to catch sight of the soles of his shoes as he crept rapidly in amongst the trees, a pretty evident sign that he too had recognised his enemy.“Nice evening, mate,” said the big fellow, advancing, as Gunson sat by me, coolly filling his pipe. “Ah, I just want a light.”He came closer, looking sharply round, while we could hear the trampling and breaking of the fir-boughs, as others were evidently close at hand.Gunson drew a burning stick from the fire, and offered it to the man, who took it, and said quietly, as he lit his own pipe—“Camping here for the night, mate?”“Yes: camping here.”“Going on in the morning?”“No; this is my claim.”The man dropped the burning stick, and stared at Gunson.“What?” he said. “Oh no, that won’t do. Me and my mates have chosen this patch, so you’ll have to go higher up or lower down; haven’t we, lads?” he continued, as one by one the rest of the gang came up.“Eh? all right, yes, whatever it is,” said one of them, whom I recognised as the second of Quong’s assailants.“There, you see,” continued the first man; “it’s all right, so you’ll have to budge.”“No,” said Gunson, quietly; “this is my claim. I’ve been here some days now, and here I stay.”“Oh, we’ll see about that,” said the fellow, in a bullying tone. “It’s the place for us, so no nonsense. Been here some days, have you?”“Yes, some days now, my lad; and the law gives me a prior right.”“Ah, but there arn’t no law up here yet. Look here,” he cried, suddenly seizing Gunson, and forcing him back. “What’s the pay dirt worth? How much gold have you got? How—Why, hallo! it’s you, is it? Here, old lad,” he cried to the other speaker, “it’s our wrastling friend. I told you we should run up agen each other again, and—why of course—here’s the boy too. This is quite jolly.”“Keep your hands off,” said Gunson, shaking himself free, and springing up, an example we followed. “This part of the country’s wide enough, so go your way. I tell you again, this claim is mine. What I make is my business, so go.”“Hear all this?” said the big fellow, quickly. “Hear this, mates? We arn’t inside a fence now, with a lot o’ riflemen ready, so just speak up, some of you. Isn’t this the spot we mean to have—isn’t this the claim Tom Dunn come up and picked?”“Yes, yes,” came in chorus, as the men closed up round us in the gathering gloom; while I felt sick with apprehension, and stood ready to spring away as soon as Mr Gunson gave the order to go, while, fortunately for us, the way was open, being beyond the fire.“You hear, mate,” cried the big fellow, fiercely, “so no more words. You and your boys can go, and think yourselves lucky we don’t slit your ears. Do you hear?”“Yes,” said Gunson, smiling.“There’s plenty of other places, so be off. Where’s your traps? Now then, cut!”He took a step forward, and his companions seemed about to rush at us, when Mr Gunson’s voice rang out—“Tent!”We sprang across the fire, whose thin smoke half hid us as we rushed in among the trees, and seized our weapons.“Scared ’em,” roared the big fellow; and there was a chorus of laughter from his companions, who gathered about the fire, kicking it together to make a blaze, and get lights for their pipes.We were in darkness, and they were in full light, the flames flashing up, and giving a strangely picturesque aspect to the group.“Soon jobbed that job,” said the big fellow. “How they ran! wonder whether they got any dust.”“You ought to have searched ’em,” said the second. “I know they had, or they wouldn’t have run.”“Cock,” whispered Gunson, as there was a momentary pause; and the men all started, and their hands went to their hips for their pistols, as the ominous clicking of our pieces was heard.“Bail up!” roared Gunson, his voice pealing out of the darkness; “you are covered by rifles, and the man who moves dies.”There was an angry growl, and the men threw up their hands, one of them holding a pistol.“Put that iron away,” roared Gunson; and the man slowly replaced it, and then raised his hands like his fellows.“Now go back the way you came, or strike up further,” said Gunson, firmly. “Show your faces here again, and it is at your own risk, for I shoot at sight. Off!”There was a low muttering growl at this, and the men walked slowly away in the direction by which they had come, while we sat listening till there was not a sound.“Gone,” I said, with the painful beating of my heart calming down.“Yes, my lad, gone,” said Gunson; “and we shall have to follow their example. It is a horrible shame, but till we have people sent up by the governor, those scoundrels take the law in their own hands.”“But they will not dare to come back.”“I don’t know. But I shall not dare to try and hold the place against such a gang.”“But you weren’t afraid of ’em?” said Esau.“Indeed, but I was,” said Gunson, with a bitter laugh, “horribly afraid. I should have fought to the end though, all the same, and so would you.”“Dunno,” said Esau; “but I was going to try and hit one, for I thought it a pity to waste a shot, and I can hit without killing; can’t I, Mayne Gordon?”“Don’t talk about it,” I said, with a shudder.“Why not? Wish we could wound all that lot like I wounded you, and that they would be as bad for six months.”“Don’t talk,” said Mr Gunson. “We will not stir to-night, and the best way will be not to show ourselves—only one at a time to make up the fire. No sleep to-night, lads; or if there is, it must be in turns. Here, Quong! What tree has he gone up?”There was no reply, and we sat listening with the darkness closing in all around, and the silence growing painful. It was a weary watch in the gloom, though outside the fire lit up the valley, and from time to time I went out and threw on a few sticks, just enough to keep it up.I don’t know what time it was, probably about midnight, when Mr Gunson said softly.“Two will be enough to watch. You, Dean, lie down and take your spell till you are called.”There was no reply.“Do you hear?”Still no answer.“What!” cried Mr Gunson, “has he forsaken us?”“No, no,” I whispered; “here he is, and fast asleep.”Mr Gunson uttered a low, half-contemptuous laugh.“Nice fellow to trust with our lives,” he said. “Shall I wake him to watch while we sleep?”“Don’t be hard upon him,” I said. “He was very tired, and it always was his weak point—he would go to sleep anywhere.”“And your weak point to defend your friends, eh, Mayne? There, I will not be hard upon him. Talk in whispers, and keep on thequi vive; we must not be surprised. Are you very tired?”“Not at all now,” I said. “I don’t want to go to sleep.”“Then we’ll discuss the position, Mayne. Hist!”We listened, but the faint crack we heard was evidently the snapping of a stick in the fire, and Mr Gunson went on.“Now, Mayne,” he said, “after years of such toil as few men have lived through, I have found wealth. No, no, don’t you speak. Let me have the rostrum for awhile.”He had noted that I was about to ask him a question, for it was on my lips to say, “How did you get to know of this place?”“I am not selfish or mad for wealth,” he continued. “I am working for others, and I have found what I want. In a few months, or less, I shall be a rich man again, and you and your friends can take your share in my prosperity. That is, if I can hold my own here till law and order are established. If I cannot hold my own, I may never have another chance. In other words, if those scoundrels oust me, long before I can get help from the settlement they will have cleared out what is evidently a rich hoard or pocket belonging to old Dame Nature, where the gold has been swept. Now then, for myself I am ready to dare everything, but I have you two boys with me, and I have no right to risk your injury, perhaps your lives. What do you think I ought to do?”“Stand your ground,” I said, firmly. “I would.”I said this, for I had a lively recollection of the cowardice these men had displayed, both at the Fort and here, as soon as they had been brought face to face with the rifles.Gunson grasped my hand and pressed it hard.“Thank you, my lad,” he said, in a low deep whisper. “I half expected to hear you say this, but my conscience is hard at work with me as to whether I am justified in tying your fate up with that of such an unlucky adventurer as I am.”“I am only an adventurer too,” I said; “and it is not such very bad luck to have found all this gold.”He was silent for a few minutes, as if he were thinking deeply, but at last he spoke.“I’ve been weighing it all in the balance, Mayne,” he said, “and God forgive me if I am going wrong, for I cannot help myself. The gold is very heavy in the scale, and bears down the beam. I cannot, gambler though I may be, give up now. Look here, Mayne, my lad, here is my decision. I am going to try and get a couple of good fellows from down below to come in as partners. So as soon as it is light you had better get back to the Fort, explain your position, and I know Mr Raydon to be so straightforward and just a man, that he will forgive you.”“There is nothing to forgive,” I said, firmly; “and I’d sooner die than go back now.”“Nonsense! heroics, boy.”“It is not,” I said. “Mr Gunson, would two strange men, about whom you know nothing, be more true to you than Esau Dean and I would?”“No; I am sure they would not,” he cried eagerly. “Then I shall stay with you, and whatever I do Esau will do. He will never leave me. Besides, he is mad to get gold too. We are only boys, but those men are afraid of the rifles, and even if they mastered us, they would not dare to kill us.”“No, my lad, they would not,” cried Mr Gunson. “Then you shall stay.”He turned toward me, and grasped my hand. “And look here, Mayne, I have for years now been the rough-looking fellow you met in the steerage of the ship; but I thank heaven there is still a little of the gentleman left, and you shall not find me unworthy of the trust you place in—Ah!”I started back, for there was the sound of a heavy blow, and Mr Gunson fell forward upon his face, while two strong hands seized me from behind, and I was thrown heavily, while some one lay across my chest.

“Sit fast,” said Gunson, “both of you. Don’t make any sign, and leave me to speak. But mind, if I say ‘Tent,’ run both of you to the tent, and seize your weapons ready to do what I say.”

I gave him a nod, and sat with beating heart watching the moving figure, which directly after caught sight of us.

“Hullo!” he said; “some one here?” Then turning, “Look sharp, some of you.”

Both Gunson and I had recognised the man as Quong’s principal assailant, and I glanced sharply toward the Chinaman, to catch sight of the soles of his shoes as he crept rapidly in amongst the trees, a pretty evident sign that he too had recognised his enemy.

“Nice evening, mate,” said the big fellow, advancing, as Gunson sat by me, coolly filling his pipe. “Ah, I just want a light.”

He came closer, looking sharply round, while we could hear the trampling and breaking of the fir-boughs, as others were evidently close at hand.

Gunson drew a burning stick from the fire, and offered it to the man, who took it, and said quietly, as he lit his own pipe—

“Camping here for the night, mate?”

“Yes: camping here.”

“Going on in the morning?”

“No; this is my claim.”

The man dropped the burning stick, and stared at Gunson.

“What?” he said. “Oh no, that won’t do. Me and my mates have chosen this patch, so you’ll have to go higher up or lower down; haven’t we, lads?” he continued, as one by one the rest of the gang came up.

“Eh? all right, yes, whatever it is,” said one of them, whom I recognised as the second of Quong’s assailants.

“There, you see,” continued the first man; “it’s all right, so you’ll have to budge.”

“No,” said Gunson, quietly; “this is my claim. I’ve been here some days now, and here I stay.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that,” said the fellow, in a bullying tone. “It’s the place for us, so no nonsense. Been here some days, have you?”

“Yes, some days now, my lad; and the law gives me a prior right.”

“Ah, but there arn’t no law up here yet. Look here,” he cried, suddenly seizing Gunson, and forcing him back. “What’s the pay dirt worth? How much gold have you got? How—Why, hallo! it’s you, is it? Here, old lad,” he cried to the other speaker, “it’s our wrastling friend. I told you we should run up agen each other again, and—why of course—here’s the boy too. This is quite jolly.”

“Keep your hands off,” said Gunson, shaking himself free, and springing up, an example we followed. “This part of the country’s wide enough, so go your way. I tell you again, this claim is mine. What I make is my business, so go.”

“Hear all this?” said the big fellow, quickly. “Hear this, mates? We arn’t inside a fence now, with a lot o’ riflemen ready, so just speak up, some of you. Isn’t this the spot we mean to have—isn’t this the claim Tom Dunn come up and picked?”

“Yes, yes,” came in chorus, as the men closed up round us in the gathering gloom; while I felt sick with apprehension, and stood ready to spring away as soon as Mr Gunson gave the order to go, while, fortunately for us, the way was open, being beyond the fire.

“You hear, mate,” cried the big fellow, fiercely, “so no more words. You and your boys can go, and think yourselves lucky we don’t slit your ears. Do you hear?”

“Yes,” said Gunson, smiling.

“There’s plenty of other places, so be off. Where’s your traps? Now then, cut!”

He took a step forward, and his companions seemed about to rush at us, when Mr Gunson’s voice rang out—

“Tent!”

We sprang across the fire, whose thin smoke half hid us as we rushed in among the trees, and seized our weapons.

“Scared ’em,” roared the big fellow; and there was a chorus of laughter from his companions, who gathered about the fire, kicking it together to make a blaze, and get lights for their pipes.

We were in darkness, and they were in full light, the flames flashing up, and giving a strangely picturesque aspect to the group.

“Soon jobbed that job,” said the big fellow. “How they ran! wonder whether they got any dust.”

“You ought to have searched ’em,” said the second. “I know they had, or they wouldn’t have run.”

“Cock,” whispered Gunson, as there was a momentary pause; and the men all started, and their hands went to their hips for their pistols, as the ominous clicking of our pieces was heard.

“Bail up!” roared Gunson, his voice pealing out of the darkness; “you are covered by rifles, and the man who moves dies.”

There was an angry growl, and the men threw up their hands, one of them holding a pistol.

“Put that iron away,” roared Gunson; and the man slowly replaced it, and then raised his hands like his fellows.

“Now go back the way you came, or strike up further,” said Gunson, firmly. “Show your faces here again, and it is at your own risk, for I shoot at sight. Off!”

There was a low muttering growl at this, and the men walked slowly away in the direction by which they had come, while we sat listening till there was not a sound.

“Gone,” I said, with the painful beating of my heart calming down.

“Yes, my lad, gone,” said Gunson; “and we shall have to follow their example. It is a horrible shame, but till we have people sent up by the governor, those scoundrels take the law in their own hands.”

“But they will not dare to come back.”

“I don’t know. But I shall not dare to try and hold the place against such a gang.”

“But you weren’t afraid of ’em?” said Esau.

“Indeed, but I was,” said Gunson, with a bitter laugh, “horribly afraid. I should have fought to the end though, all the same, and so would you.”

“Dunno,” said Esau; “but I was going to try and hit one, for I thought it a pity to waste a shot, and I can hit without killing; can’t I, Mayne Gordon?”

“Don’t talk about it,” I said, with a shudder.

“Why not? Wish we could wound all that lot like I wounded you, and that they would be as bad for six months.”

“Don’t talk,” said Mr Gunson. “We will not stir to-night, and the best way will be not to show ourselves—only one at a time to make up the fire. No sleep to-night, lads; or if there is, it must be in turns. Here, Quong! What tree has he gone up?”

There was no reply, and we sat listening with the darkness closing in all around, and the silence growing painful. It was a weary watch in the gloom, though outside the fire lit up the valley, and from time to time I went out and threw on a few sticks, just enough to keep it up.

I don’t know what time it was, probably about midnight, when Mr Gunson said softly.

“Two will be enough to watch. You, Dean, lie down and take your spell till you are called.”

There was no reply.

“Do you hear?”

Still no answer.

“What!” cried Mr Gunson, “has he forsaken us?”

“No, no,” I whispered; “here he is, and fast asleep.”

Mr Gunson uttered a low, half-contemptuous laugh.

“Nice fellow to trust with our lives,” he said. “Shall I wake him to watch while we sleep?”

“Don’t be hard upon him,” I said. “He was very tired, and it always was his weak point—he would go to sleep anywhere.”

“And your weak point to defend your friends, eh, Mayne? There, I will not be hard upon him. Talk in whispers, and keep on thequi vive; we must not be surprised. Are you very tired?”

“Not at all now,” I said. “I don’t want to go to sleep.”

“Then we’ll discuss the position, Mayne. Hist!”

We listened, but the faint crack we heard was evidently the snapping of a stick in the fire, and Mr Gunson went on.

“Now, Mayne,” he said, “after years of such toil as few men have lived through, I have found wealth. No, no, don’t you speak. Let me have the rostrum for awhile.”

He had noted that I was about to ask him a question, for it was on my lips to say, “How did you get to know of this place?”

“I am not selfish or mad for wealth,” he continued. “I am working for others, and I have found what I want. In a few months, or less, I shall be a rich man again, and you and your friends can take your share in my prosperity. That is, if I can hold my own here till law and order are established. If I cannot hold my own, I may never have another chance. In other words, if those scoundrels oust me, long before I can get help from the settlement they will have cleared out what is evidently a rich hoard or pocket belonging to old Dame Nature, where the gold has been swept. Now then, for myself I am ready to dare everything, but I have you two boys with me, and I have no right to risk your injury, perhaps your lives. What do you think I ought to do?”

“Stand your ground,” I said, firmly. “I would.”

I said this, for I had a lively recollection of the cowardice these men had displayed, both at the Fort and here, as soon as they had been brought face to face with the rifles.

Gunson grasped my hand and pressed it hard.

“Thank you, my lad,” he said, in a low deep whisper. “I half expected to hear you say this, but my conscience is hard at work with me as to whether I am justified in tying your fate up with that of such an unlucky adventurer as I am.”

“I am only an adventurer too,” I said; “and it is not such very bad luck to have found all this gold.”

He was silent for a few minutes, as if he were thinking deeply, but at last he spoke.

“I’ve been weighing it all in the balance, Mayne,” he said, “and God forgive me if I am going wrong, for I cannot help myself. The gold is very heavy in the scale, and bears down the beam. I cannot, gambler though I may be, give up now. Look here, Mayne, my lad, here is my decision. I am going to try and get a couple of good fellows from down below to come in as partners. So as soon as it is light you had better get back to the Fort, explain your position, and I know Mr Raydon to be so straightforward and just a man, that he will forgive you.”

“There is nothing to forgive,” I said, firmly; “and I’d sooner die than go back now.”

“Nonsense! heroics, boy.”

“It is not,” I said. “Mr Gunson, would two strange men, about whom you know nothing, be more true to you than Esau Dean and I would?”

“No; I am sure they would not,” he cried eagerly. “Then I shall stay with you, and whatever I do Esau will do. He will never leave me. Besides, he is mad to get gold too. We are only boys, but those men are afraid of the rifles, and even if they mastered us, they would not dare to kill us.”

“No, my lad, they would not,” cried Mr Gunson. “Then you shall stay.”

He turned toward me, and grasped my hand. “And look here, Mayne, I have for years now been the rough-looking fellow you met in the steerage of the ship; but I thank heaven there is still a little of the gentleman left, and you shall not find me unworthy of the trust you place in—Ah!”

I started back, for there was the sound of a heavy blow, and Mr Gunson fell forward upon his face, while two strong hands seized me from behind, and I was thrown heavily, while some one lay across my chest.

Chapter Forty Six.The Representative of the Law.“Right behind him, mate. Don’t be afraid. Tie his thumbs together too.” I heard these words as I lay there in the darkness, and knew that our assailants must be securing Gunson, while directly after Esau’s angry expostulations told what was going on with him.“Let go, will you! Oh, I say, it hurts. What yer doing of? Here, hi! Mr Gunson, Mayne Gordon, don’t be such cowards as to run away and leave a fellow. They’re a-killing of me.”“Hold your row, will you,” cried a gruff voice that was familiar to me now. “There, you won’t run away in a hurry. Have you tied that other shaver up?”“No,” growled the man, who was lying across me.“Look sharp then, and let’s see what they’ve got to eat. Done the job neatly this time.”“Yes,” said another voice, whose words made me shudder; “bit too well, mate. This chap’s a dead ’un.”“Bah! not he. Crack on the head with a soft bit o’ wood won’t kill a man. Here, let’s see what they’ve got. Make up that fire a bit. Plaguey dark.”While this was being said, I felt hands busy about my hands and legs, and then a voice by me said—“There he is, tight as a bull-calf in a butcher’s cart.”Soon after the fire blazed up vividly, sending its light in amongst the trees; and I saw the faces of the two big fellows, our old friends, and several of the others, who, after making sure of the rifles and revolvers, hunted out what food there was in Gunson’s little tent, and began to prepare themselves a meal.“Don’t seem to be no whiskey,” said the big fellow, who was leader, as he passed close by me; and there I lay listening, perfectly helpless, and with my heart beating heavily with dread, as I pondered on the man’s words about Gunson.I waited till the men were talking round the fire, and then whispered—“Mr Gunson—Mr Gunson,” but there was no reply, and a chill feeling of horror ran through me, and the cold dew gathered on my forehead.“Ain’t you going to say a word to me, Mayne Gordon?” said Esau, in a piteous voice.“Say? What can I say?” I replied.“Dunno, but you might say something. They’ve tied me so tight that the ropes cut right down to the bone.”“So they have me, and it hurts horribly.”“Can’t hurt you so much as it does me. Pretty sort of chap you were to keep watch, and let them jump on us like that.”“Pretty sort of fellow you were to go to sleep,” I returned, bitterly.“Didn’t go to sleep,” grumbled Esau. “Only shut my eyes for a moment.”“There, don’t make paltry excuses,” I said, angrily.“Dare say you two was asleep too,” he said, sulkily. “I say, have they killed poor old Gunson?”“Don’t—don’t—don’t!” I whispered, piteously; and in spite of the pain it gave me, I rolled myself over and struggled along, till at last, after a terrible struggle, I reached Gunson’s side.“Mr Gunson,” I said; “Mr Gunson, pray, pray speak.”He uttered a low groan, and it sent a thrill of joy through me.“Hurray!” whispered Esau; “he ain’t dead. I say, can’t we get untied and drop on to them now when they don’t expect it?”“Impossible,” I said, bitterly, “they’ve got the rifles too.”“Oh, I say,” groaned Esau, “ain’t it too bad, Mayne Gordon! Just as we was all going to be rich, and now we shall be cheated out of it all. Only wish I could get my hands undone.”What he would have done I cannot say, for his hands were tied fast, and we lay there listening to the talking and coarse laughter of the men about the fire, and a faint groan now and then from Mr Gunson, till the day began to break; and as the sun lit up the misty valley, and shot its bright, golden arrows through the trees, the men rose, and two of them took hold of Mr Gunson’s head and heels, and carried him out into the open. “Dead?” said one of them.“Not he. Take a harder crack to kill him,” said the big fellow. “Bring out them two boys and lay ’em here. I’m going to hold a court.”“Here, mind what you’re doing,” cried Esau, as he was lifted. “You hurt.”“Hold your row, warmint,” growled one of his hearers; and as Esau kicked out viciously, they threw him down by Gunson just as if he was a sack of wheat.“All right, cowards,” exclaimed Esau, viciously. “I’ll serve you out for this.”I set my teeth hard, so as not to make a sound, though they hurt me horribly, and I too was thrown down on the grass near the fire, while the big leader seated himself on a stone, took out and filled his pipe, lit it with a burning brand, and then began to smoke, while the men formed a circle round.“Now then, young ’un,” the big ruffian said to me, “speak up, and we shan’t hurt you, but if you don’t tell the whole truth, one of my mates here will take you into the woods there, and use his knife.”“And then you’ll be hung,” said Esau, sharply. “For cutting off his ears, monkey,” growled the fellow. “Well, they wouldn’t do it for cutting off yourn, so we’ll try them first.”“Yah! you daren’t,” cried Esau, viciously. “Don’t, don’t,” I said. “It’s of no good.”“Not a bit,” said the big fellow. “Now then, boy, where’s your mate hid his pile?”“I don’t know,” I said.“What! No lies, or—”He clenched his fist, and held it towards me threateningly.“I tell you I don’t know, and if I did I wouldn’t tell you.”“We’ll soon see about that. Now then, you,” he said, turning to Esau, “where’s your mate keep his pile?”“Dunno,” said Esau, laughing. “Find out.”“Oh, we can soon do that. Won’t take long. Here, you, how much did you get out of the stream every day?”“Don’t know,” I said, “anything about it.”“Ho! Very good. I say, mates, who’s got the sharpest knife?”“All on us,” said his principal companion—the man who was with him first.“Well then, we’ll have his ears off, and if that don’t make him speak, his tongue ain’t no use, and we’ll have off that.”“You dare to touch him,” cried Dean, fiercely, “and I’ll never rest till the police catch you.”“Thank ye,” said the big ruffian, and one man burst into a roar of laughter. “There, it’s of no use, boys; tell us where he buried his pile, and you shall have a handful apiece. I don’t know but what we’ll let you stop in camp and cook for us. Now then, out with it.”“I told you before,” I said firmly, “I don’t know, and if I did I would not tell you.”“Look here,” said one of the men, “give him a taste o’ Indian. That’ll make him speak.”“What d’yer mean?”“Pull off his boots, and put his feet close to the fire to warm.”“Oh!” cried Esau, “I wish my hands were untied.”“And serve him the same,” said the man who had made the proposal. “It’ll be a race between ’em who shall speak first.”“There, it’s all right. Ears off last. But they’re going to speak; arn’t you, boys?”We both remained silent.“Oh, very well,” said the big fellow; “off with their boots then.”“Don’t you say a word, Esau,” I whispered; “it’s only to frighten us.”“No, it arn’t,” said the big ruffian, fiercely, for he must have guessed what I said. “It arn’t done to frighten you. Off with ’em, lads, and hold their feet close. That’ll make ’em speak—or squeak,” he added, with a grin.“It will not, you cowardly brute,” I cried, desperately, “for we neither of us know.”“And him as does can’t speak,” cried Esau, fiercely. “Call yourselves men to tie us two lads up, and do this? Yah! you’re afraid.”“Where’s he hid his pile, then?” growled the big ruffian.“Don’t answer him,” I said; “it’s of no use.”“Not a bit, my saucy young whelps. Now I give you one more chance. Hold hard a moment,” he cried to the men who held us. “Now then, where’s that there gold?”“I don’t know,” I said, furiously, for the pain I suffered made me reckless; “and I tell you again, if I did know I wouldn’t say.”“I say, mates,” said the big fellow, with mock seriousness, “arn’t it awful to hear two boys lie like that? Must teach ’em better, mustn’t us?”There was a burst of laughter at this, and the men dragged off our boots and stockings.“That’s the way,” he said; “now set ’em down close to the fire, and just warm their soles a bit; just to let ’em know what it’s like.”“Oh, Esau!” I groaned, as I was seized; but he did not hear me, for as they took hold of him he began to struggle and writhe with all his might. Then for a few moments I began to think that this was all done to frighten us, till I heard Esau give a shriek of pain.“Now, will you tell us?” cried the big fellow. “Give the other a taste too.”Four men laid hold of me, and they carried me close up to the fire, whose glow I felt upon my face, as I too made a desperate effort to escape. But it was useless, and I was turning faint with horror and dread combined, for in another moment they would have forced my feet close to the glowing embers, when I uttered a cry of joy, for Mr Raydon, rifle in hand, suddenly strode out from among the pines, and I was dropped, for every man seized his weapon.“Put up your pistols,” cried Mr Raydon, in a voice of thunder, as he came up to us, his piece in his left hand, while with his right he struck the man nearest to me a blow full in the eyes which sent him staggering across the fire, to fall heavily on the other side.“Stand fast, mates,” cried the big ruffian, fiercely; “he’s only one. It’s him from the Fort, and we’ve got my gentleman now.”“Stand back, sir!” roared Mr Raydon, “if you value your life.”“Give up that gun if you value yours,” cried the man, and, bowie-knife in hand, he sprang right at Mr Raydon.But at that moment there was the sharp crack of a rifle, the ruffian’s legs gave way beneath him, and he fell forward, sticking his knife deep into the earth.“Fool! I warned you,” said Mr Raydon, hoarsely. “Stand! all of you. You are surrounded and covered by rifles—look!”He pointed to where a thin film of smoke rose from among the pines, close by where Esau had blazed the tree.“It’s a lie, mates,” groaned the prostrate ruffian; “there’s only two of ’em. Don’t let him bully you like that.”“No, mate,” cried his chief companion. “It was a shot from behind. Come on.”He in turn rushed at Mr Raydon, who merely stepped back as the man raised his hand to strike, when a second shot rang out from the same place, and, with a yell of agony, the hand which held a knife dropped, and the blade fell with a jingling sound upon a block of stone.“Will you believe me now?” said Mr Raydon. “I tell you there are men all round you, and every one is a marksman who can bring you down. Do you surrender?”“No,” cried the big ruffian, through his set teeth, as he dragged himself up on his hands. “It’s the same one fired both shots. Mates, you won’t cave in and give up a claim like this?”“No!” came in chorus. “It’s our claim, and we’ll fight for it.”“It is Mr Gunson’s claim,” I cried, angrily; “and it was ours before he came.”“If any one has a right to the claim, it is I,” said Mr Raydon; “and I give you warning, my men, if one of you is seen in these parts after to-day, he shall be hunted down and placed in irons till he can be sent back to the coast for attempted murder and robbery.”“Don’t listen,” cried the big ruffian, hoarsely; and I could see that he was ghastly pale. “He’s nobody. He’s trying to scar’ you. Stand up and fight for your rights.”“Mr Raydon, quick!” I shouted. “Take care!”I was too late, for a revolver-shot rang out, fired by the second man; but it was with his left hand, and I uttered a cry of joy, for it had missed.“Keep to your places,” cried Mr Raydon; “I am not hurt. Grey and number two advance. Stop number two and number three advance, and collect their weapons. You others cover your men. Grey, bring down the next who lifts a hand.”Two of the men from the Fort ran out from the pines, rifle in hand; but at that moment there was a crackling and rustling of branches, and one by one at least a dozen gold-finders from below came running up, armed with rifles and revolvers.“Ah,” cried the big ruffian, from where he lay; “come on, mates. They’re trying to put a stop to the gold-washing, and to rob us of our claim.”“Gag that scoundrel if he speaks again,” cried Mr Raydon, coolly, as the rough-looking men clustered together, dirt-stained, unkempt, and drenched with water some of them, and all anxiously handling their pieces. There was a low angry murmur from the new-comers, and our assailants shouted—“Yes; come to rob us of our claim.”“Silence!” cried Mr Raydon, turning then to the gold-finders. “I am Mr Daniel Raydon, chief officer of Fort Elk, the station of the Hudson’s Bay Company.”“Ay, that’s right,” said one of the new-comers.“I stand to all here as the magistrate of this district till the Governor, her Majesty’s representative, sends officers to preserve order, and protect you and your rights and claims in this newly-discovered goldfield.”“That’s right, sir; that’s right, sir,” said the same man. “But when we’ve chosen claims you’re not to take them away.”“Hear, hear!” roared the big ruffian, faintly.“And shoot him down,” cried another of the fresh coiners; and there was a loud murmur like a chorus of approval.“Of course not, my men,” said Mr Raydon, calmly.“Don’t listen to him. It’s a robbery,” cried one of the big ruffian’s gang. “Fired at us; shot two of our men.”“Yes; we heard the shots,” said the first gold-finder.“And I am glad you have come,” said Mr Raydon. “Now then, you boys. Has either of you seen a man here and those two lads before?”“Seen the man,” said the first speaker; “not the boys.”“Well, do you know he was working this claim with a Chinaman?”“Yes,” said another; “I saw the Chinaman only yesterday morning.”“Last night the Chinaman came to the Fort to tell me they were attacked by a gang of ruffians, and I brought my men over the mountains to come to their help.”“It’s all a lie,” said the big fellow, in a faint voice.“Ask the boys, my good fellows,” said Mr Raydon. “Ask them where Mr Gunson is.”“Lying yonder,” cried Esau, “half dead. They did it.”“These boys are bound too, you see. Tell them, Mayne Gordon, what they were about to do when I came to your help.”“Hold our feet in the fire to make us tell where the gold is hidden.”“No, no; a bit of a game,” chorussed the gang.“Look at my feet,” cried Esau, piteously; “is that a bit of a game?” and he tried to hold up his bound legs, which the leader of the new-comers raised and examined.“It’s true enough,” said the chief speaker, indignantly; and a roar of execration arose.“It is all true,” cried Mr Raydon. “Where is the Chinaman?”“Allee light—me come along,” cried Quong; and there was a roar of laughter, for his voice came from high up in a tree.“Come down, Quong; there is no danger,” said Mr Raydon. “Some of you cut these poor lads’ limbs free. Stop, fool!” he roared, as one of the gang began to sidle off. “Stand, all of you, if you value your lives. Fire on the first scoundrel who tries to escape. I have men planted, and good shots,” he said to the leader of the gold-finders.“You carry it with a high hand, governor,” said this man, rather abruptly.“Well, sir, I have come to save these people here. I should have done the same for you. This is English ground, where every man’s life and property must be protected by the law. For the time being I represent the law, and I’ll have myself obeyed. Now what have you—what have any of you to say?”“Three cheers for old England and the law!” cried the man. “I beg your pardon, sir: you’re right, and I’m wrong. What shall we do? Hang this lot?”“That’s not obeying the law,” said Mr Raydon, smiling. “No; two of them are wounded. Their leader has his thigh broken; and his companion his hand smashed, as he tried to stab me. They have got their punishment. Disarm the rest. Then four of my men shall go with you to see these scoundrels well down the valley. If they show their faces here again they know the risks.”“Right!” cried the leader; and he snatched the revolver from the nearest man, and his example was so rapidly followed, that in a few minutes the utterly cowed gang was huddled together, unarmed, and guarded by four of the Company’s people, who had advanced from the wood at a word from their chief.“And now what about our claims along this stream?” said the leader of the new-comers.“I am here to help you maintain your just rights, sir,” said Mr Raydon, quietly. “Now help me to maintain order, and to see to the wounded men. Bring lint and bandages, Grey.”And as that individual produced the linen from his haversack, Mr Raydon handed his rifle to one of the gold-finders, and went down on one knee to examine Mr Gunson’s injury, which he carefully washed and bandaged.“A terrible cut,” he said, in answer to my inquiring eyes, “and concussion of the brain. I hope not more serious. Now, my man,” he continued, turning to the big ruffian, “you tried to take my life, and I have got to try and save yours.”The fellow made no answer, but winced and groaned with pain as his shattered limb was set and supported by rough splints.“This fellow will have to be carried,” said Mr Raydon, rising; “he will not walk again for many months. Now, sir, you.”He bent over the second ruffian and examined his hand, bathed and bandaged it, and then went to the stream to wash his own.By this time several more armed men had come up from the lower part of the stream, and eagerly asked for particulars, while I heard a great deal, and noted nearly everything, as I sat by Mr Gunson, suffering agonies, for my arms and legs throbbed with the return of the circulation.Mr Raydon had only just finished his task when the chief speaker of the gold-finders came up with half a dozen more.“All my mates here, sir,” he said, “from down stream ask me to speak, and say we thank you for what you’ve done. We want protection, and law, and order, and for every man to make his pile in peace. We see you’ve got half a dozen men with you, and you talk of sending four down the river with this gang.”“Yes,” said Mr Raydon.“Well, sir, we think we can save you that job. We’ll see those chaps off the premises.”“No violence,” said Mr Raydon, sternly.“Not if they behave themselves, sir, I promise that. For we think, as there’s no knowing who may come next, we should be glad if you’ll keep your men, so that in case of trouble we can appeal to you.”“Very well,” said Mr Raydon; “let it be so then.”“Don’t trust him,” snarled one of the wounded men; “he’ll rob you all of your claims.”“Not he,” said the chief speaker.“No,” said Mr Raydon, “and the first step I shall take will be to leave two of my men in charge of this claim, which has been taken up by the wounded prospector, Gunson.”“That’s right; that’s fair,” came in chorus, and after a little more conversation the men moved off with the prisoners, the wounded fellow being carried on a litter of poles.“Edwards,” said Mr Raydon, “you and another had better stay here with the Chinaman. Gordon, where is the gold?”“I have not the least idea, sir.”“Oh, then you, Dean.”“Don’t know a bit, sir,” said Esau, who was nursing his blistered feet.“Here, Quong, where has Mr Gunson stored the gold he has found?”“Me no sabbee, sah. Quong give allee gole Mis Gunson take callee. No sabbee. Hide allee gole ploply.”“Cut poles and lash them together,” said Mr Raydon to Grey; “we must carry him to the Fort. Gordon, Dean, you had better come and stay till he is better.”I looked up at him doubtingly.“Yes,” he said; “it will be best.”Half an hour after we were on our way back, with Esau limping painfully. Two of the miners volunteered to help carry the litter, so as to relieve the four we had, and the claim was left in charge of the two others, for whom, as we came away, Quong was making, as he expressed it, “plenty good flesh tea.”It was dark night again as we reached the gate of the Fort, and heard the deep-toned baying of the great dog; and a few minutes later Mrs John was holding my hands, and as she kissed me there was a tear left upon my cheek.“So glad, so very glad to see you back, Mayne,” said Mr John, warmly. “I hope all the trouble now is at an end.”I said nothing, only helped to get Mr Gunson in his old quarters, after Esau had at last extricated himself from his mother’s arms.“Is it all real, Esau?” I said, after Mr Raydon had gone, telling us not to be alarmed at Mr Gunson’s insensibility, for it might be hours before he came to.“I shall come and see him twice in the course of the night,” he said, as he went out. “You, Esau, you must rest those feet.”“Yes, sir; all right,” said Esau; and it was then that I said, “Is it all real?”“If your feet smarted like mine do, you wouldn’t ask that,” he replied, sulkily. “I want to know why I wasn’t carried back in a litter too?”“It was impossible,” I said.“Wasn’t impossible to have given a fellow a pig-a-back. Oh, my feet, my feet! Oh, yes, it’s precious real.”“I never expected to come back here like this,” I said.“Nor I neither,” replied Esau. “I say, you’ll keep watch by Mr Gunson, won’t you?”“Yes, of course,” I said.“That’s right. I’m going to do something for my trotters.”“What are you going to do?”“Go off to sleep.”In a few minutes I was listening to his hard breathing, and asking myself whether, after the past night, I could do duty in watching the wounded man, when there were footsteps, and two of the men’s Indian wives came in.“To nurse Mr Gunson,” they said, in fair English, and a short time after I too was fast asleep.

“Right behind him, mate. Don’t be afraid. Tie his thumbs together too.” I heard these words as I lay there in the darkness, and knew that our assailants must be securing Gunson, while directly after Esau’s angry expostulations told what was going on with him.

“Let go, will you! Oh, I say, it hurts. What yer doing of? Here, hi! Mr Gunson, Mayne Gordon, don’t be such cowards as to run away and leave a fellow. They’re a-killing of me.”

“Hold your row, will you,” cried a gruff voice that was familiar to me now. “There, you won’t run away in a hurry. Have you tied that other shaver up?”

“No,” growled the man, who was lying across me.

“Look sharp then, and let’s see what they’ve got to eat. Done the job neatly this time.”

“Yes,” said another voice, whose words made me shudder; “bit too well, mate. This chap’s a dead ’un.”

“Bah! not he. Crack on the head with a soft bit o’ wood won’t kill a man. Here, let’s see what they’ve got. Make up that fire a bit. Plaguey dark.”

While this was being said, I felt hands busy about my hands and legs, and then a voice by me said—

“There he is, tight as a bull-calf in a butcher’s cart.”

Soon after the fire blazed up vividly, sending its light in amongst the trees; and I saw the faces of the two big fellows, our old friends, and several of the others, who, after making sure of the rifles and revolvers, hunted out what food there was in Gunson’s little tent, and began to prepare themselves a meal.

“Don’t seem to be no whiskey,” said the big fellow, who was leader, as he passed close by me; and there I lay listening, perfectly helpless, and with my heart beating heavily with dread, as I pondered on the man’s words about Gunson.

I waited till the men were talking round the fire, and then whispered—

“Mr Gunson—Mr Gunson,” but there was no reply, and a chill feeling of horror ran through me, and the cold dew gathered on my forehead.

“Ain’t you going to say a word to me, Mayne Gordon?” said Esau, in a piteous voice.

“Say? What can I say?” I replied.

“Dunno, but you might say something. They’ve tied me so tight that the ropes cut right down to the bone.”

“So they have me, and it hurts horribly.”

“Can’t hurt you so much as it does me. Pretty sort of chap you were to keep watch, and let them jump on us like that.”

“Pretty sort of fellow you were to go to sleep,” I returned, bitterly.

“Didn’t go to sleep,” grumbled Esau. “Only shut my eyes for a moment.”

“There, don’t make paltry excuses,” I said, angrily.

“Dare say you two was asleep too,” he said, sulkily. “I say, have they killed poor old Gunson?”

“Don’t—don’t—don’t!” I whispered, piteously; and in spite of the pain it gave me, I rolled myself over and struggled along, till at last, after a terrible struggle, I reached Gunson’s side.

“Mr Gunson,” I said; “Mr Gunson, pray, pray speak.”

He uttered a low groan, and it sent a thrill of joy through me.

“Hurray!” whispered Esau; “he ain’t dead. I say, can’t we get untied and drop on to them now when they don’t expect it?”

“Impossible,” I said, bitterly, “they’ve got the rifles too.”

“Oh, I say,” groaned Esau, “ain’t it too bad, Mayne Gordon! Just as we was all going to be rich, and now we shall be cheated out of it all. Only wish I could get my hands undone.”

What he would have done I cannot say, for his hands were tied fast, and we lay there listening to the talking and coarse laughter of the men about the fire, and a faint groan now and then from Mr Gunson, till the day began to break; and as the sun lit up the misty valley, and shot its bright, golden arrows through the trees, the men rose, and two of them took hold of Mr Gunson’s head and heels, and carried him out into the open. “Dead?” said one of them.

“Not he. Take a harder crack to kill him,” said the big fellow. “Bring out them two boys and lay ’em here. I’m going to hold a court.”

“Here, mind what you’re doing,” cried Esau, as he was lifted. “You hurt.”

“Hold your row, warmint,” growled one of his hearers; and as Esau kicked out viciously, they threw him down by Gunson just as if he was a sack of wheat.

“All right, cowards,” exclaimed Esau, viciously. “I’ll serve you out for this.”

I set my teeth hard, so as not to make a sound, though they hurt me horribly, and I too was thrown down on the grass near the fire, while the big leader seated himself on a stone, took out and filled his pipe, lit it with a burning brand, and then began to smoke, while the men formed a circle round.

“Now then, young ’un,” the big ruffian said to me, “speak up, and we shan’t hurt you, but if you don’t tell the whole truth, one of my mates here will take you into the woods there, and use his knife.”

“And then you’ll be hung,” said Esau, sharply. “For cutting off his ears, monkey,” growled the fellow. “Well, they wouldn’t do it for cutting off yourn, so we’ll try them first.”

“Yah! you daren’t,” cried Esau, viciously. “Don’t, don’t,” I said. “It’s of no good.”

“Not a bit,” said the big fellow. “Now then, boy, where’s your mate hid his pile?”

“I don’t know,” I said.

“What! No lies, or—”

He clenched his fist, and held it towards me threateningly.

“I tell you I don’t know, and if I did I wouldn’t tell you.”

“We’ll soon see about that. Now then, you,” he said, turning to Esau, “where’s your mate keep his pile?”

“Dunno,” said Esau, laughing. “Find out.”

“Oh, we can soon do that. Won’t take long. Here, you, how much did you get out of the stream every day?”

“Don’t know,” I said, “anything about it.”

“Ho! Very good. I say, mates, who’s got the sharpest knife?”

“All on us,” said his principal companion—the man who was with him first.

“Well then, we’ll have his ears off, and if that don’t make him speak, his tongue ain’t no use, and we’ll have off that.”

“You dare to touch him,” cried Dean, fiercely, “and I’ll never rest till the police catch you.”

“Thank ye,” said the big ruffian, and one man burst into a roar of laughter. “There, it’s of no use, boys; tell us where he buried his pile, and you shall have a handful apiece. I don’t know but what we’ll let you stop in camp and cook for us. Now then, out with it.”

“I told you before,” I said firmly, “I don’t know, and if I did I would not tell you.”

“Look here,” said one of the men, “give him a taste o’ Indian. That’ll make him speak.”

“What d’yer mean?”

“Pull off his boots, and put his feet close to the fire to warm.”

“Oh!” cried Esau, “I wish my hands were untied.”

“And serve him the same,” said the man who had made the proposal. “It’ll be a race between ’em who shall speak first.”

“There, it’s all right. Ears off last. But they’re going to speak; arn’t you, boys?”

We both remained silent.

“Oh, very well,” said the big fellow; “off with their boots then.”

“Don’t you say a word, Esau,” I whispered; “it’s only to frighten us.”

“No, it arn’t,” said the big ruffian, fiercely, for he must have guessed what I said. “It arn’t done to frighten you. Off with ’em, lads, and hold their feet close. That’ll make ’em speak—or squeak,” he added, with a grin.

“It will not, you cowardly brute,” I cried, desperately, “for we neither of us know.”

“And him as does can’t speak,” cried Esau, fiercely. “Call yourselves men to tie us two lads up, and do this? Yah! you’re afraid.”

“Where’s he hid his pile, then?” growled the big ruffian.

“Don’t answer him,” I said; “it’s of no use.”

“Not a bit, my saucy young whelps. Now I give you one more chance. Hold hard a moment,” he cried to the men who held us. “Now then, where’s that there gold?”

“I don’t know,” I said, furiously, for the pain I suffered made me reckless; “and I tell you again, if I did know I wouldn’t say.”

“I say, mates,” said the big fellow, with mock seriousness, “arn’t it awful to hear two boys lie like that? Must teach ’em better, mustn’t us?”

There was a burst of laughter at this, and the men dragged off our boots and stockings.

“That’s the way,” he said; “now set ’em down close to the fire, and just warm their soles a bit; just to let ’em know what it’s like.”

“Oh, Esau!” I groaned, as I was seized; but he did not hear me, for as they took hold of him he began to struggle and writhe with all his might. Then for a few moments I began to think that this was all done to frighten us, till I heard Esau give a shriek of pain.

“Now, will you tell us?” cried the big fellow. “Give the other a taste too.”

Four men laid hold of me, and they carried me close up to the fire, whose glow I felt upon my face, as I too made a desperate effort to escape. But it was useless, and I was turning faint with horror and dread combined, for in another moment they would have forced my feet close to the glowing embers, when I uttered a cry of joy, for Mr Raydon, rifle in hand, suddenly strode out from among the pines, and I was dropped, for every man seized his weapon.

“Put up your pistols,” cried Mr Raydon, in a voice of thunder, as he came up to us, his piece in his left hand, while with his right he struck the man nearest to me a blow full in the eyes which sent him staggering across the fire, to fall heavily on the other side.

“Stand fast, mates,” cried the big ruffian, fiercely; “he’s only one. It’s him from the Fort, and we’ve got my gentleman now.”

“Stand back, sir!” roared Mr Raydon, “if you value your life.”

“Give up that gun if you value yours,” cried the man, and, bowie-knife in hand, he sprang right at Mr Raydon.

But at that moment there was the sharp crack of a rifle, the ruffian’s legs gave way beneath him, and he fell forward, sticking his knife deep into the earth.

“Fool! I warned you,” said Mr Raydon, hoarsely. “Stand! all of you. You are surrounded and covered by rifles—look!”

He pointed to where a thin film of smoke rose from among the pines, close by where Esau had blazed the tree.

“It’s a lie, mates,” groaned the prostrate ruffian; “there’s only two of ’em. Don’t let him bully you like that.”

“No, mate,” cried his chief companion. “It was a shot from behind. Come on.”

He in turn rushed at Mr Raydon, who merely stepped back as the man raised his hand to strike, when a second shot rang out from the same place, and, with a yell of agony, the hand which held a knife dropped, and the blade fell with a jingling sound upon a block of stone.

“Will you believe me now?” said Mr Raydon. “I tell you there are men all round you, and every one is a marksman who can bring you down. Do you surrender?”

“No,” cried the big ruffian, through his set teeth, as he dragged himself up on his hands. “It’s the same one fired both shots. Mates, you won’t cave in and give up a claim like this?”

“No!” came in chorus. “It’s our claim, and we’ll fight for it.”

“It is Mr Gunson’s claim,” I cried, angrily; “and it was ours before he came.”

“If any one has a right to the claim, it is I,” said Mr Raydon; “and I give you warning, my men, if one of you is seen in these parts after to-day, he shall be hunted down and placed in irons till he can be sent back to the coast for attempted murder and robbery.”

“Don’t listen,” cried the big ruffian, hoarsely; and I could see that he was ghastly pale. “He’s nobody. He’s trying to scar’ you. Stand up and fight for your rights.”

“Mr Raydon, quick!” I shouted. “Take care!”

I was too late, for a revolver-shot rang out, fired by the second man; but it was with his left hand, and I uttered a cry of joy, for it had missed.

“Keep to your places,” cried Mr Raydon; “I am not hurt. Grey and number two advance. Stop number two and number three advance, and collect their weapons. You others cover your men. Grey, bring down the next who lifts a hand.”

Two of the men from the Fort ran out from the pines, rifle in hand; but at that moment there was a crackling and rustling of branches, and one by one at least a dozen gold-finders from below came running up, armed with rifles and revolvers.

“Ah,” cried the big ruffian, from where he lay; “come on, mates. They’re trying to put a stop to the gold-washing, and to rob us of our claim.”

“Gag that scoundrel if he speaks again,” cried Mr Raydon, coolly, as the rough-looking men clustered together, dirt-stained, unkempt, and drenched with water some of them, and all anxiously handling their pieces. There was a low angry murmur from the new-comers, and our assailants shouted—

“Yes; come to rob us of our claim.”

“Silence!” cried Mr Raydon, turning then to the gold-finders. “I am Mr Daniel Raydon, chief officer of Fort Elk, the station of the Hudson’s Bay Company.”

“Ay, that’s right,” said one of the new-comers.

“I stand to all here as the magistrate of this district till the Governor, her Majesty’s representative, sends officers to preserve order, and protect you and your rights and claims in this newly-discovered goldfield.”

“That’s right, sir; that’s right, sir,” said the same man. “But when we’ve chosen claims you’re not to take them away.”

“Hear, hear!” roared the big ruffian, faintly.

“And shoot him down,” cried another of the fresh coiners; and there was a loud murmur like a chorus of approval.

“Of course not, my men,” said Mr Raydon, calmly.

“Don’t listen to him. It’s a robbery,” cried one of the big ruffian’s gang. “Fired at us; shot two of our men.”

“Yes; we heard the shots,” said the first gold-finder.

“And I am glad you have come,” said Mr Raydon. “Now then, you boys. Has either of you seen a man here and those two lads before?”

“Seen the man,” said the first speaker; “not the boys.”

“Well, do you know he was working this claim with a Chinaman?”

“Yes,” said another; “I saw the Chinaman only yesterday morning.”

“Last night the Chinaman came to the Fort to tell me they were attacked by a gang of ruffians, and I brought my men over the mountains to come to their help.”

“It’s all a lie,” said the big fellow, in a faint voice.

“Ask the boys, my good fellows,” said Mr Raydon. “Ask them where Mr Gunson is.”

“Lying yonder,” cried Esau, “half dead. They did it.”

“These boys are bound too, you see. Tell them, Mayne Gordon, what they were about to do when I came to your help.”

“Hold our feet in the fire to make us tell where the gold is hidden.”

“No, no; a bit of a game,” chorussed the gang.

“Look at my feet,” cried Esau, piteously; “is that a bit of a game?” and he tried to hold up his bound legs, which the leader of the new-comers raised and examined.

“It’s true enough,” said the chief speaker, indignantly; and a roar of execration arose.

“It is all true,” cried Mr Raydon. “Where is the Chinaman?”

“Allee light—me come along,” cried Quong; and there was a roar of laughter, for his voice came from high up in a tree.

“Come down, Quong; there is no danger,” said Mr Raydon. “Some of you cut these poor lads’ limbs free. Stop, fool!” he roared, as one of the gang began to sidle off. “Stand, all of you, if you value your lives. Fire on the first scoundrel who tries to escape. I have men planted, and good shots,” he said to the leader of the gold-finders.

“You carry it with a high hand, governor,” said this man, rather abruptly.

“Well, sir, I have come to save these people here. I should have done the same for you. This is English ground, where every man’s life and property must be protected by the law. For the time being I represent the law, and I’ll have myself obeyed. Now what have you—what have any of you to say?”

“Three cheers for old England and the law!” cried the man. “I beg your pardon, sir: you’re right, and I’m wrong. What shall we do? Hang this lot?”

“That’s not obeying the law,” said Mr Raydon, smiling. “No; two of them are wounded. Their leader has his thigh broken; and his companion his hand smashed, as he tried to stab me. They have got their punishment. Disarm the rest. Then four of my men shall go with you to see these scoundrels well down the valley. If they show their faces here again they know the risks.”

“Right!” cried the leader; and he snatched the revolver from the nearest man, and his example was so rapidly followed, that in a few minutes the utterly cowed gang was huddled together, unarmed, and guarded by four of the Company’s people, who had advanced from the wood at a word from their chief.

“And now what about our claims along this stream?” said the leader of the new-comers.

“I am here to help you maintain your just rights, sir,” said Mr Raydon, quietly. “Now help me to maintain order, and to see to the wounded men. Bring lint and bandages, Grey.”

And as that individual produced the linen from his haversack, Mr Raydon handed his rifle to one of the gold-finders, and went down on one knee to examine Mr Gunson’s injury, which he carefully washed and bandaged.

“A terrible cut,” he said, in answer to my inquiring eyes, “and concussion of the brain. I hope not more serious. Now, my man,” he continued, turning to the big ruffian, “you tried to take my life, and I have got to try and save yours.”

The fellow made no answer, but winced and groaned with pain as his shattered limb was set and supported by rough splints.

“This fellow will have to be carried,” said Mr Raydon, rising; “he will not walk again for many months. Now, sir, you.”

He bent over the second ruffian and examined his hand, bathed and bandaged it, and then went to the stream to wash his own.

By this time several more armed men had come up from the lower part of the stream, and eagerly asked for particulars, while I heard a great deal, and noted nearly everything, as I sat by Mr Gunson, suffering agonies, for my arms and legs throbbed with the return of the circulation.

Mr Raydon had only just finished his task when the chief speaker of the gold-finders came up with half a dozen more.

“All my mates here, sir,” he said, “from down stream ask me to speak, and say we thank you for what you’ve done. We want protection, and law, and order, and for every man to make his pile in peace. We see you’ve got half a dozen men with you, and you talk of sending four down the river with this gang.”

“Yes,” said Mr Raydon.

“Well, sir, we think we can save you that job. We’ll see those chaps off the premises.”

“No violence,” said Mr Raydon, sternly.

“Not if they behave themselves, sir, I promise that. For we think, as there’s no knowing who may come next, we should be glad if you’ll keep your men, so that in case of trouble we can appeal to you.”

“Very well,” said Mr Raydon; “let it be so then.”

“Don’t trust him,” snarled one of the wounded men; “he’ll rob you all of your claims.”

“Not he,” said the chief speaker.

“No,” said Mr Raydon, “and the first step I shall take will be to leave two of my men in charge of this claim, which has been taken up by the wounded prospector, Gunson.”

“That’s right; that’s fair,” came in chorus, and after a little more conversation the men moved off with the prisoners, the wounded fellow being carried on a litter of poles.

“Edwards,” said Mr Raydon, “you and another had better stay here with the Chinaman. Gordon, where is the gold?”

“I have not the least idea, sir.”

“Oh, then you, Dean.”

“Don’t know a bit, sir,” said Esau, who was nursing his blistered feet.

“Here, Quong, where has Mr Gunson stored the gold he has found?”

“Me no sabbee, sah. Quong give allee gole Mis Gunson take callee. No sabbee. Hide allee gole ploply.”

“Cut poles and lash them together,” said Mr Raydon to Grey; “we must carry him to the Fort. Gordon, Dean, you had better come and stay till he is better.”

I looked up at him doubtingly.

“Yes,” he said; “it will be best.”

Half an hour after we were on our way back, with Esau limping painfully. Two of the miners volunteered to help carry the litter, so as to relieve the four we had, and the claim was left in charge of the two others, for whom, as we came away, Quong was making, as he expressed it, “plenty good flesh tea.”

It was dark night again as we reached the gate of the Fort, and heard the deep-toned baying of the great dog; and a few minutes later Mrs John was holding my hands, and as she kissed me there was a tear left upon my cheek.

“So glad, so very glad to see you back, Mayne,” said Mr John, warmly. “I hope all the trouble now is at an end.”

I said nothing, only helped to get Mr Gunson in his old quarters, after Esau had at last extricated himself from his mother’s arms.

“Is it all real, Esau?” I said, after Mr Raydon had gone, telling us not to be alarmed at Mr Gunson’s insensibility, for it might be hours before he came to.

“I shall come and see him twice in the course of the night,” he said, as he went out. “You, Esau, you must rest those feet.”

“Yes, sir; all right,” said Esau; and it was then that I said, “Is it all real?”

“If your feet smarted like mine do, you wouldn’t ask that,” he replied, sulkily. “I want to know why I wasn’t carried back in a litter too?”

“It was impossible,” I said.

“Wasn’t impossible to have given a fellow a pig-a-back. Oh, my feet, my feet! Oh, yes, it’s precious real.”

“I never expected to come back here like this,” I said.

“Nor I neither,” replied Esau. “I say, you’ll keep watch by Mr Gunson, won’t you?”

“Yes, of course,” I said.

“That’s right. I’m going to do something for my trotters.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Go off to sleep.”

In a few minutes I was listening to his hard breathing, and asking myself whether, after the past night, I could do duty in watching the wounded man, when there were footsteps, and two of the men’s Indian wives came in.

“To nurse Mr Gunson,” they said, in fair English, and a short time after I too was fast asleep.

Back to IndexNext