Chapter Thirty Five.

Chapter Thirty Five.“On my Word of Honour.”I felt rather startled when we left the valley, for we came suddenly upon a large party of Indians who seemed very different to the quiet, stolid-looking beings we had been accustomed to see with their skin canoes, or busy fishing along the side of the river. These were swarthy, fierce-looking fellows, mounted on sturdy, wiry-looking ponies—steeds which they sat admirably.It might be thought that they would be as much surprised and startled as we were, but they did not make a sign to indicate that they even saw us, but rode slowly along, well armed, and with their long hair, feathers, and gaily-coloured blankets, giving them a brightly picturesque look.“They don’t mean mischief, do they?” whispered Esau.“No, they must be friendly Indians,” I said; “and look, they’ve got packs on those other horses. I know: they are taking skins up to the Fort.”This proved to be the case, for the party kept right on in the same track as we were taking, halting a short distance from the gate of the Fort; but, though we were pretty close to them all the time, they never made the slightest sign of being aware of our presence; and when we entered, and I glanced back, I could see that they were already beginning to make their little camp, while others were seeing to the laden horses.“What!” said Mr Raydon, when I told him of my discovery. “Gold?”“Yes; and I think in large quantities.”“Are you sure it is gold?” he said. I took out what I had found, and placed the little scales before him. He seized them, and examined them carefully, closing his hand over them afterward, and sitting gazing straight before him for some moments, while a chill of dread ran through me.“It is not gold,” I thought; and as I gazed at him intently, he looked up. “Well?” he said.“You think it is not gold, sir?” I said. “I am sure it is,” he replied, sadly. “Tell me whereabouts you found it;” and I described the place.“Yes,” he said; “one of our most lovely valleys. Here, are you tired?”“No.”“Are you?” he said, turning to Esau, who replied that he was not the least so.“Stop a moment—to whom have you spoken?”“Spoken, sir?”“How many people about the place have you told about the gold?”“No one, sir.”“Neither of you?” he said, with a sharp look at Esau.“We came straight to you,” I said, “because I felt that you ought to know about it, and I thought you would give us your advice.”He laid his hand on my shoulder, and gripped it fast, speaking very firmly, but in a kindlier tone than I had heard from him before.“That’s right,” he said, “quite right. We’ll go up there at once, and see if this is an important discovery, or only one of the little patches that are found at times.”“Then no one saw you there?” he said, after a few minutes’ thought.“We did not see a soul, sir, till we came out of the little valley, and found that party of Indians coming here.”He stood with his brows knit, thinking deeply, and then he nodded his head sharply.“Yes,” he said, “we’ll go at once. Come along.”He led us to his garden, and out of the shed took a shovel and a shallow wooden basket.“You lads can carry these,” he said, “and I’ll take my rifle. It will look as if we are going on some pleasure trip. One minute, though, while I give orders about those Indians.”He spoke to his second in command, giving him some instructions, whose import I did not understand then; and afterwards we strolled out through the gate slowly enough, and wandered away along the track and down by the lake, Mr Raydon stopping every now and then to pick up some flower or stone to which he drew my attention.This went on till we were out of sight of the Fort, when his whole manner changed.“Now, boys,” he said, sharply, “on as fast as you can. How far is it from here?”“About two hours’ walk,” I said.“Then we shall not be back much before dusk; so best leg foremost.”It was quite the two hours before we got to the spot where the tree was blazed, and Mr Raydon’s keen eyes detected the sign long before we were abreast of it.“Your mark to show the spot, eh?” he said. “Very ingenious. It would have deceived me. Now wait a few minutes.”He walked forward for a few hundred yards, and then returned.“No one has been along here,” he said. “There is not a footmark. Now then; to work.”He stood his rifle against a tree, stripped off his boots and stockings, and signed to me to do the same.“You, my lad,” he said to Esau, “keep watch by my rifle, and at the slightest sign or sound give me warning. Now then, Gordon, in with you and use the shovel.”I stepped into the stream, where it was shallow, and in obedience to his instructions plied the tool, and threw three or four spadefuls into the shallow wooden basket, which he held down then in the running water, and rapidly agitated, giving it a curious circular motion, and letting the light sand run with the water over the side. Then he stopped from time to time to pick out stones.“Another shovelful,” he said, “from that place. Yes,” he continued, as I obeyed him; “now another from as deep as you can. In with it.”Thus in the late afternoon, with the sun getting low, and throwing our shadows far over the stream, he worked the basket about in the water somewhat after the manner adopted by Quong, but of course on a large scale, for the basket was heavy with what I had thrown in, and it made the muscles stand out in knots upon his arms where he had rolled his sleeves up to his shoulders; and I remember thinking, as I gazed at his sun-browned face and grey hair, what a fine thing it must be to feel so big and strong and manly.Esau stood resting on the rifle, for he could not resist the temptation of taking hold of it to stand like a sentry, while I, nearly up to my knees in water, raised one foot and rested it on the blade of the shovel, as intent as my companion, and, I am afraid, indulging in all kinds of golden dreams of wealth and position, and of how happy we should all be.It did not take long to arrange what I should do for Mrs John Dempster. I know I had determined upon a carriage and pair, with a very careful coachman, expressly for her use; though how it was to be got out to that wilderness, or used there, I did not stop to think. I only meant her to grow well and strong, and have every luxury, while Mr John could be a perfect country gentleman, and study, and be my friend. That gold was to be regular Arabian Nights wealth, and I felt already quite a prince. These ideas floated rapidly through my brain, while Mr Raydon made a low washing noise with the tiny basket, and discoloured the flowing water as he let the fine sand pass away.All at once he stopped, held the dripping basket—every drop which ran from it turned to ruddy gold by the sinking sun—tightly between his knees, and again rapidly picked out the larger stones, sending them flying about, to fall with a splash in the water.“Can I help you, sir?”“No, my boy, no,” he said. “I have done this thing before. One can manage it best.”Just then I heard a sigh from Esau, who could not refrain in his anxiety from coming nearer the river.This made Mr Raydon look up sharply, and he smiled.“Hullo, sentry,” he said, “you’re not keeping a good look out. Mind what you are about with that rifle.”“Yes, sir, I’ll be very careful,” said Esau, “and I am looking out well.”“For the gold,” said Mr Raydon, in an undertone, which words I caught, as he went on picking and throwing out smaller stones, then washing the basket round again and again, and the more he worked, the more his countenance seemed to change, till it looked older and more careworn than I had ever seen it before.I knew that there were a few scales and beads of gold, for I had seen them glisten in the sunshine as he rapidly moved the basket but directly after I felt horribly disappointed, for he set it right down in the water, the weight of stones within it keeping it at the bottom, and splashed toward me.“Here,” he said roughly, “give me the shovel.”I gave it into his hand, and he waded half across to where there was an eddy behind a huge mass of rock, and bending down here, he scraped away the stones and sand, as if trying to make a hole, discolouring the water right along the stream. Then, forcing the shovel down as far as he could drive it, he brought up a dripping quantity of sand and small gravel, placed it in the basket, returned for another shovelful, and placed it with the other before handing the shovel to me.“If there is much gold,” he said, “it would lie at the bottom of that eddy, where it would be swept when the stream is in flood. Now, then, we shall see.”For another ten minutes he went on washing again, while I could see Esau, as he crept nearer and nearer, perspiring with impatience, and glancing up and down what in the setting sun now seemed to be a golden valley, for water, rocks, and the ferns seemed to be tinted of a ruddy yellow, and the tall fir-trees stood up like spires of gold.At last I caught a glimpse of something bright again, but I could not be sure that there was more gold in the basket; it might only be the stones glistening in the wonderful ruddy light that filled the ravine.“Hah!” ejaculated Mr Raydon, and he once more set down the basket beneath the water. “Hard work. What trouble men take to get gold!”“There is some in the basket, isn’t there, sir?” I said anxiously, and in no wise prepared for the result.“We’ll see directly,” he said. “Let’s get out of this. The water is bitterly cold.”He waded out now with the basket, from which the golden water dripped as if the contents were melting.“Why, there is some,” cried Dean, excitedly.“Some?” cried Mr Raydon, bitterly. “Unfortunately, yes. Look!” and he held the basket sidewise in the full blaze of the glowing sun, giving it a shake, so that we could see scales, beads, and tiny nuggets dotted about among the flashing stones, and all looking of that beautiful pure yellow colour which is possessed alone by native gold.“Why, there must be pounds,” cried Esau, excitedly.“Pish!” ejaculated Mr Raydon, contemptuously. “How you boys let your imagination go wild! There must be, however, a full ounce—a wonderful washing for the trial.”“Then you are not disappointed, sir?” I said, eagerly.“Yes,” he cried, turning upon me fiercely; “horribly.”“But there must be quantities more, sir.”“Yes. I was in hopes that it was a mere patch, but everything points to the fact that the stream is rich, and it may be far better higher up.”“But you said you were disappointed, sir?” I said, as he sat down, and began to replace his stockings and boots.“I am boy, horribly.”“With all that wealth before us?”“Yes. Do you know what it means?”“Riches for us all, sir,” I said, proudly.“Hah! Look here, boy. I have been out in these glorious valleys many years now. The place is a perfect Eden, where nature smiles upon us, and wealth showers her golden gifts. You know my home, and that no troubles come, save some trifle with the Indians now and then. Do you know what would happen if it were known that this ravine teems with gold?”“We should set to work and make fortunes of it, sir, and not let it be known.”“Bah! Impossible, Gordon. In one month from now the news would have spread; and as long as the gold lasted, this place would be turned from a Paradise into a horror. The scum of the American population would float here, with all the lawlessness that was in California in its early days. Drinking-bars and gambling-saloons would rise like mushrooms; and where now all is beauty and peace, there would be robbery, violence, murder, drunkenness, and misery too horrible to contemplate.”“What!” I cried, incredulously, “because a rich supply of gold is found?”“Yes. I have seen it all, and I know,” he cried; “and I have often hoped and prayed that no gold might be found near here. Gold can be made a blessing, but too often it has proved a curse.”I looked at Esau, and in spite of my trouble and disappointment as I saw my fortune fading away, and with it Mrs John’s carriage and my life of ease and plenty, I could not help smiling, for my companion’s face was comic in the extreme.“There, let’s get back,” said Mr Raydon, stamping his feet in his heavy boots.“But what—”“Am I going to do with the gold?” he said, quickly. “Oh, we’ll take it home with us. Dig up a root or two of those ferns to put in the basket, and hide what we have found.”“Then you will not work for the gold with us, sir?” I said, as Esau stood holding the rifle, listening eagerly.“No,” said Mr Raydon, sternly. “And now listen. I am chief officer of this fort and station. I am, so to speak, almost a king here among these people; and amongst the tribes who come to trade I am their father and chief of chiefs, and my word is law.”“Yes, sir, I know,” I said.“You two lads were sent out to me by my thoughtless brother-in-law, who is always meaning well and doing ill. You were delighted by the prospect, and did not see what a mad scheme it was. As it happens, all has turned out well, though it is almost a miracle to me that you have both reached me in safety.”I thought of Gunson, and how we could not have done it without his help; and as I thought of him, I recalled the object of his visit to this region—prospecting for gold and other metals—and of what he would say to our discovery.“Well,” said Mr Raydon, “you reached me safe and sound, and though I was annoyed at your coming and being thrown on my hands as you were, I think I may say I have not treated you unkindly.”“Indeed you have not,” I cried earnestly, as I held out my hand to him. “You have been very generous to us both, sir, and I am most grateful.”“Then prove it,” he cried, gripping my hand.“How, sir? What shall I do?”“Hold your tongue. Do not say a word of your discovery to a soul. Above all, that friend of yours, Gunson, the prospector, must never know.”“Not tell any one, sir? Not make use of our discovery?”“No,” he said, firmly. “Promise.”“Oh, I say!” cried Esau.“And you too, sir!” said Mr Raydon.I stood looking at him for a few minutes, thinking as he fixed his eyes on mine, and then I pressed his hand firmly.“Yes, sir; I promise.”“On your word of honour as a gentleman’s son?”“On my word of honour as a gentleman’s son, sir,” I said, proudly.“That will do,” he said, releasing my hand, and smiling at me warmly. “I like that, Mayne, better than any oaths. Now, Esau Dean, what have you to say?”“Oh, I don’t like it at all, sir,” said Esau, bluntly; “but him and me’s been mates all through, and I won’t go back from anything he says. But it is disappointing, now ain’t it?”“It seems so to you, my lad,” said Mr Raydon, kindly; “but give me your promise, and it may prove of more value to you than your share of the gold. You see I give up my claim, and mine would be a big one if I liked to exercise it, I dare say.”“Am I to promise, Mr Gordon, sir?” said Esau.“Yes, just as I have.”“All right, I promise too.”“I look to you both to keep your words.”“I shan’t tell nobody unless he does,” said Esau, gruffly, as he stood the rifle against a stone.“And he will not,” said Mr Raydon. “There, let’s get back. I never leave the place as a rule when Indians are about.”“Are they dangerous?” I asked.“No; and yet not to be trusted. What savages really are, Gordon? Thanks, my lad,” he said, as I dug up and placed a couple of fern-roots with their spreading fronds in the basket, so as to completely cover the fine gravel at the bottom, and the gold. “We must wash it again when we get back,” he continued, “and then divide it in two equal portions, for you lads to keep as a memento of to-day’s work. Now, Dean, give me my rifle.”Esau ran back to where he had stood the rifle, and was coming back, when he tripped and fell.At the same moment it seemed to me that some one struck me a violent blow beneath my left shoulder which drove me partly round, and made me drop the basket just as there was a sharp report, followed by a peculiar ringing in my ears, and then all was blank.

I felt rather startled when we left the valley, for we came suddenly upon a large party of Indians who seemed very different to the quiet, stolid-looking beings we had been accustomed to see with their skin canoes, or busy fishing along the side of the river. These were swarthy, fierce-looking fellows, mounted on sturdy, wiry-looking ponies—steeds which they sat admirably.

It might be thought that they would be as much surprised and startled as we were, but they did not make a sign to indicate that they even saw us, but rode slowly along, well armed, and with their long hair, feathers, and gaily-coloured blankets, giving them a brightly picturesque look.

“They don’t mean mischief, do they?” whispered Esau.

“No, they must be friendly Indians,” I said; “and look, they’ve got packs on those other horses. I know: they are taking skins up to the Fort.”

This proved to be the case, for the party kept right on in the same track as we were taking, halting a short distance from the gate of the Fort; but, though we were pretty close to them all the time, they never made the slightest sign of being aware of our presence; and when we entered, and I glanced back, I could see that they were already beginning to make their little camp, while others were seeing to the laden horses.

“What!” said Mr Raydon, when I told him of my discovery. “Gold?”

“Yes; and I think in large quantities.”

“Are you sure it is gold?” he said. I took out what I had found, and placed the little scales before him. He seized them, and examined them carefully, closing his hand over them afterward, and sitting gazing straight before him for some moments, while a chill of dread ran through me.

“It is not gold,” I thought; and as I gazed at him intently, he looked up. “Well?” he said.

“You think it is not gold, sir?” I said. “I am sure it is,” he replied, sadly. “Tell me whereabouts you found it;” and I described the place.

“Yes,” he said; “one of our most lovely valleys. Here, are you tired?”

“No.”

“Are you?” he said, turning to Esau, who replied that he was not the least so.

“Stop a moment—to whom have you spoken?”

“Spoken, sir?”

“How many people about the place have you told about the gold?”

“No one, sir.”

“Neither of you?” he said, with a sharp look at Esau.

“We came straight to you,” I said, “because I felt that you ought to know about it, and I thought you would give us your advice.”

He laid his hand on my shoulder, and gripped it fast, speaking very firmly, but in a kindlier tone than I had heard from him before.

“That’s right,” he said, “quite right. We’ll go up there at once, and see if this is an important discovery, or only one of the little patches that are found at times.”

“Then no one saw you there?” he said, after a few minutes’ thought.

“We did not see a soul, sir, till we came out of the little valley, and found that party of Indians coming here.”

He stood with his brows knit, thinking deeply, and then he nodded his head sharply.

“Yes,” he said, “we’ll go at once. Come along.”

He led us to his garden, and out of the shed took a shovel and a shallow wooden basket.

“You lads can carry these,” he said, “and I’ll take my rifle. It will look as if we are going on some pleasure trip. One minute, though, while I give orders about those Indians.”

He spoke to his second in command, giving him some instructions, whose import I did not understand then; and afterwards we strolled out through the gate slowly enough, and wandered away along the track and down by the lake, Mr Raydon stopping every now and then to pick up some flower or stone to which he drew my attention.

This went on till we were out of sight of the Fort, when his whole manner changed.

“Now, boys,” he said, sharply, “on as fast as you can. How far is it from here?”

“About two hours’ walk,” I said.

“Then we shall not be back much before dusk; so best leg foremost.”

It was quite the two hours before we got to the spot where the tree was blazed, and Mr Raydon’s keen eyes detected the sign long before we were abreast of it.

“Your mark to show the spot, eh?” he said. “Very ingenious. It would have deceived me. Now wait a few minutes.”

He walked forward for a few hundred yards, and then returned.

“No one has been along here,” he said. “There is not a footmark. Now then; to work.”

He stood his rifle against a tree, stripped off his boots and stockings, and signed to me to do the same.

“You, my lad,” he said to Esau, “keep watch by my rifle, and at the slightest sign or sound give me warning. Now then, Gordon, in with you and use the shovel.”

I stepped into the stream, where it was shallow, and in obedience to his instructions plied the tool, and threw three or four spadefuls into the shallow wooden basket, which he held down then in the running water, and rapidly agitated, giving it a curious circular motion, and letting the light sand run with the water over the side. Then he stopped from time to time to pick out stones.

“Another shovelful,” he said, “from that place. Yes,” he continued, as I obeyed him; “now another from as deep as you can. In with it.”

Thus in the late afternoon, with the sun getting low, and throwing our shadows far over the stream, he worked the basket about in the water somewhat after the manner adopted by Quong, but of course on a large scale, for the basket was heavy with what I had thrown in, and it made the muscles stand out in knots upon his arms where he had rolled his sleeves up to his shoulders; and I remember thinking, as I gazed at his sun-browned face and grey hair, what a fine thing it must be to feel so big and strong and manly.

Esau stood resting on the rifle, for he could not resist the temptation of taking hold of it to stand like a sentry, while I, nearly up to my knees in water, raised one foot and rested it on the blade of the shovel, as intent as my companion, and, I am afraid, indulging in all kinds of golden dreams of wealth and position, and of how happy we should all be.

It did not take long to arrange what I should do for Mrs John Dempster. I know I had determined upon a carriage and pair, with a very careful coachman, expressly for her use; though how it was to be got out to that wilderness, or used there, I did not stop to think. I only meant her to grow well and strong, and have every luxury, while Mr John could be a perfect country gentleman, and study, and be my friend. That gold was to be regular Arabian Nights wealth, and I felt already quite a prince. These ideas floated rapidly through my brain, while Mr Raydon made a low washing noise with the tiny basket, and discoloured the flowing water as he let the fine sand pass away.

All at once he stopped, held the dripping basket—every drop which ran from it turned to ruddy gold by the sinking sun—tightly between his knees, and again rapidly picked out the larger stones, sending them flying about, to fall with a splash in the water.

“Can I help you, sir?”

“No, my boy, no,” he said. “I have done this thing before. One can manage it best.”

Just then I heard a sigh from Esau, who could not refrain in his anxiety from coming nearer the river.

This made Mr Raydon look up sharply, and he smiled.

“Hullo, sentry,” he said, “you’re not keeping a good look out. Mind what you are about with that rifle.”

“Yes, sir, I’ll be very careful,” said Esau, “and I am looking out well.”

“For the gold,” said Mr Raydon, in an undertone, which words I caught, as he went on picking and throwing out smaller stones, then washing the basket round again and again, and the more he worked, the more his countenance seemed to change, till it looked older and more careworn than I had ever seen it before.

I knew that there were a few scales and beads of gold, for I had seen them glisten in the sunshine as he rapidly moved the basket but directly after I felt horribly disappointed, for he set it right down in the water, the weight of stones within it keeping it at the bottom, and splashed toward me.

“Here,” he said roughly, “give me the shovel.”

I gave it into his hand, and he waded half across to where there was an eddy behind a huge mass of rock, and bending down here, he scraped away the stones and sand, as if trying to make a hole, discolouring the water right along the stream. Then, forcing the shovel down as far as he could drive it, he brought up a dripping quantity of sand and small gravel, placed it in the basket, returned for another shovelful, and placed it with the other before handing the shovel to me.

“If there is much gold,” he said, “it would lie at the bottom of that eddy, where it would be swept when the stream is in flood. Now, then, we shall see.”

For another ten minutes he went on washing again, while I could see Esau, as he crept nearer and nearer, perspiring with impatience, and glancing up and down what in the setting sun now seemed to be a golden valley, for water, rocks, and the ferns seemed to be tinted of a ruddy yellow, and the tall fir-trees stood up like spires of gold.

At last I caught a glimpse of something bright again, but I could not be sure that there was more gold in the basket; it might only be the stones glistening in the wonderful ruddy light that filled the ravine.

“Hah!” ejaculated Mr Raydon, and he once more set down the basket beneath the water. “Hard work. What trouble men take to get gold!”

“There is some in the basket, isn’t there, sir?” I said anxiously, and in no wise prepared for the result.

“We’ll see directly,” he said. “Let’s get out of this. The water is bitterly cold.”

He waded out now with the basket, from which the golden water dripped as if the contents were melting.

“Why, there is some,” cried Dean, excitedly.

“Some?” cried Mr Raydon, bitterly. “Unfortunately, yes. Look!” and he held the basket sidewise in the full blaze of the glowing sun, giving it a shake, so that we could see scales, beads, and tiny nuggets dotted about among the flashing stones, and all looking of that beautiful pure yellow colour which is possessed alone by native gold.

“Why, there must be pounds,” cried Esau, excitedly.

“Pish!” ejaculated Mr Raydon, contemptuously. “How you boys let your imagination go wild! There must be, however, a full ounce—a wonderful washing for the trial.”

“Then you are not disappointed, sir?” I said, eagerly.

“Yes,” he cried, turning upon me fiercely; “horribly.”

“But there must be quantities more, sir.”

“Yes. I was in hopes that it was a mere patch, but everything points to the fact that the stream is rich, and it may be far better higher up.”

“But you said you were disappointed, sir?” I said, as he sat down, and began to replace his stockings and boots.

“I am boy, horribly.”

“With all that wealth before us?”

“Yes. Do you know what it means?”

“Riches for us all, sir,” I said, proudly.

“Hah! Look here, boy. I have been out in these glorious valleys many years now. The place is a perfect Eden, where nature smiles upon us, and wealth showers her golden gifts. You know my home, and that no troubles come, save some trifle with the Indians now and then. Do you know what would happen if it were known that this ravine teems with gold?”

“We should set to work and make fortunes of it, sir, and not let it be known.”

“Bah! Impossible, Gordon. In one month from now the news would have spread; and as long as the gold lasted, this place would be turned from a Paradise into a horror. The scum of the American population would float here, with all the lawlessness that was in California in its early days. Drinking-bars and gambling-saloons would rise like mushrooms; and where now all is beauty and peace, there would be robbery, violence, murder, drunkenness, and misery too horrible to contemplate.”

“What!” I cried, incredulously, “because a rich supply of gold is found?”

“Yes. I have seen it all, and I know,” he cried; “and I have often hoped and prayed that no gold might be found near here. Gold can be made a blessing, but too often it has proved a curse.”

I looked at Esau, and in spite of my trouble and disappointment as I saw my fortune fading away, and with it Mrs John’s carriage and my life of ease and plenty, I could not help smiling, for my companion’s face was comic in the extreme.

“There, let’s get back,” said Mr Raydon, stamping his feet in his heavy boots.

“But what—”

“Am I going to do with the gold?” he said, quickly. “Oh, we’ll take it home with us. Dig up a root or two of those ferns to put in the basket, and hide what we have found.”

“Then you will not work for the gold with us, sir?” I said, as Esau stood holding the rifle, listening eagerly.

“No,” said Mr Raydon, sternly. “And now listen. I am chief officer of this fort and station. I am, so to speak, almost a king here among these people; and amongst the tribes who come to trade I am their father and chief of chiefs, and my word is law.”

“Yes, sir, I know,” I said.

“You two lads were sent out to me by my thoughtless brother-in-law, who is always meaning well and doing ill. You were delighted by the prospect, and did not see what a mad scheme it was. As it happens, all has turned out well, though it is almost a miracle to me that you have both reached me in safety.”

I thought of Gunson, and how we could not have done it without his help; and as I thought of him, I recalled the object of his visit to this region—prospecting for gold and other metals—and of what he would say to our discovery.

“Well,” said Mr Raydon, “you reached me safe and sound, and though I was annoyed at your coming and being thrown on my hands as you were, I think I may say I have not treated you unkindly.”

“Indeed you have not,” I cried earnestly, as I held out my hand to him. “You have been very generous to us both, sir, and I am most grateful.”

“Then prove it,” he cried, gripping my hand.

“How, sir? What shall I do?”

“Hold your tongue. Do not say a word of your discovery to a soul. Above all, that friend of yours, Gunson, the prospector, must never know.”

“Not tell any one, sir? Not make use of our discovery?”

“No,” he said, firmly. “Promise.”

“Oh, I say!” cried Esau.

“And you too, sir!” said Mr Raydon.

I stood looking at him for a few minutes, thinking as he fixed his eyes on mine, and then I pressed his hand firmly.

“Yes, sir; I promise.”

“On your word of honour as a gentleman’s son?”

“On my word of honour as a gentleman’s son, sir,” I said, proudly.

“That will do,” he said, releasing my hand, and smiling at me warmly. “I like that, Mayne, better than any oaths. Now, Esau Dean, what have you to say?”

“Oh, I don’t like it at all, sir,” said Esau, bluntly; “but him and me’s been mates all through, and I won’t go back from anything he says. But it is disappointing, now ain’t it?”

“It seems so to you, my lad,” said Mr Raydon, kindly; “but give me your promise, and it may prove of more value to you than your share of the gold. You see I give up my claim, and mine would be a big one if I liked to exercise it, I dare say.”

“Am I to promise, Mr Gordon, sir?” said Esau.

“Yes, just as I have.”

“All right, I promise too.”

“I look to you both to keep your words.”

“I shan’t tell nobody unless he does,” said Esau, gruffly, as he stood the rifle against a stone.

“And he will not,” said Mr Raydon. “There, let’s get back. I never leave the place as a rule when Indians are about.”

“Are they dangerous?” I asked.

“No; and yet not to be trusted. What savages really are, Gordon? Thanks, my lad,” he said, as I dug up and placed a couple of fern-roots with their spreading fronds in the basket, so as to completely cover the fine gravel at the bottom, and the gold. “We must wash it again when we get back,” he continued, “and then divide it in two equal portions, for you lads to keep as a memento of to-day’s work. Now, Dean, give me my rifle.”

Esau ran back to where he had stood the rifle, and was coming back, when he tripped and fell.

At the same moment it seemed to me that some one struck me a violent blow beneath my left shoulder which drove me partly round, and made me drop the basket just as there was a sharp report, followed by a peculiar ringing in my ears, and then all was blank.

Chapter Thirty Six.My Doctor and Nurse.When I opened my eyes again it was with a horrible sensation of sickness at my heart, and my eyes swam, but I could dimly make out Mr Raydon’s face, as he leaned over me, and I heard him say, as if he was speaking a very long way from me in a very small voice—“That’s right; go on. Keep bathing his face.”Then I heard Esau speak in a faint choking voice.“Oh, sir! oh, sir! He won’t die, will he? Tell me he won’t die.”“I tell you to keep on bathing his face. There, take that basket and throw the wretched gold back into the stream. The basket will hold a little water at the bottom. No, no! squeeze what you have in your handkerchief first over his face.”There was a cool refreshing sensation on my face directly after, and all the time I could hear that Esau was in great trouble, for he kept on softer with a curious moaning voice—“Oh—oh—oh—oh!”It seemed very strange, and sounded to me as if it was all occurring some distance off, and I wanted to shout to him, and ask what was the matter. But Mr Raydon was still leaning over me, pulling me about it seemed, and a sharp pain suddenly shot through me, and made me wince.“Don’t—don’t,” I said, faintly; but he kept on burning me, so it seemed to me, with a red-hot iron in the chest; and after doing this for some time, while Esau kept on after a bit making his low moaning sound and splashing water over my face, Mr Raydon turned me over, and began burning me on the back.I wanted to struggle, and tell him to leave off, but no words would come; and he kept on hurting me dreadfully, and pushing me about, for what seemed to be a terribly long time, before he turned me again upon my back.“Oh, do tell me, sir, please do tell me, whether he’ll die,” I heard Esau say again, and I fancied that I caught sight of him through a thick cloud.“I cannot tell you, my lad,” I heard Mr Raydon say. “Please God! no.”“But I shot him, sir; I shot him. It was me, and I declare to goodness I’d sooner have shot myself.”“Yes, my lad, I believe you,” said Mr Raydon, very faintly, from further away now.“Is it—is it right through the heart?”“No, no, no, not, so bad as that. The bullet has passed right through just below the shoulder.”“There—then he’ll bleed to death,” groaned Esau.“No; I’ve stopped that. Quick! more water; he’s going off again.”“He’s dying! he’s dying!” cried Esau, very close to me now, as it seemed to me; but his voice died out quickly, beginning as a shrill cry and ending in a faint whisper, and it all grew dark and silent for a time. Then once more I seemed to wake up with a shrill-toned bell ringing loudly in my ears; and I lay with a terrible sensation of deathly faintness till I heard Esau say, close to me—“I’ll carry him, sir.”“No, no, my lad.”“But you don’t know how strong I am, sir.”“We must not shake him more than we can help, and he must be in an easy position. Have you your knife? I left mine.”“Yes, sir, here,” cried Esau; and then in a low voice, “Oh, poor chap! poor chap!—what have I done!”I lay very still then, listening to a hacking noise as if some one were chopping with a knife, and I listened again for what seemed a long time to a good deal of rustling and panting, and what sounded like the tearing up of handkerchiefs.“There,” said Mr Raydon, “if we are careful that will bear him. Now then—no, wait a moment. I must tie the rifle to this pole. I want something else.”“Here’s my other boot-string, sir,” I heard Esau say.“Yes, capital. That will do. Now, are you ready? Get hold of his legs quietly; don’t hesitate, and when I saynow, both lift together.”I had some faint, wondering thought as to whom they were talking about, when a terrible pang shot through me, and I felt myself lifted up and laid down again on what felt like a bed of fir-branches. The sickness did not increase, and I lay there listening to some one moaning as if in pain, while I became conscious of a curious, swinging motion as I was being gently borne up and down and carried through the air.Then I seemed to fall into an uneasy sleep, and to lie and dream about Mr Raydon burning my chest with red-hot irons, and these changed to little nuggets of gold which burnt me every time they touched my chest or back. At times the pain ceased, and then it began again, always with the swaying motion, while now and then, when the movement ceased, I began to dream of cool fresh water moistening my brow, and being trickled between my burning lips.That was a long, wearisome, painful dream, which lasted for what felt like an indefinite time, to be succeeded by other dreams in which the terrible bear’s head from Mr Raydon’s office was always pursuing me, and the great moose’s head looking on in a melancholy, pitiful way.And it did not appear strange to me that as I tried to escape and started on up and up a ravine where the sun scorched my brains, that the heads should be following without, any bodies. There they always were, the bear’s head with the huge teeth waiting to seize me if I only halted for a minute, and the moose’s head hurrying on to be there and pity me when I was caught.How I seemed to toil in terrible agony to get away, the sun burning, and the way up which I climbed growing more and more stony with precipices, down which I was always about to fall! Then great rows of the heads of the mountain sheep came in my way with their large curled horns threatening to drive me back into the jaws of the grizzly bear, which was always close behind. It seemed hidden sometimes behind heaps of skins, but I always knew it was there, and its great muzzle came out again.I tried to run—to climb further, but something held me back, and the burning on my head grew terrible. I was thirsty too, and I thought that the moose pitied me, and would show me the way to water; but it only looked at me mournfully till I awoke in the darkness, and lay wondering for a few minutes before I stretched out my hand and felt that I was in my bed, and as I lay there, I suddenly saw in the darkness the shape of my door formed by four faint streaks of light which grew brighter, and directly after there was the sharp point of light where the keyhole was, near one side.It seemed very strange, and more so that the door should open directly after, and Mr Raydon be standing there in his shirt and trousers carrying a candle.“What does he want?” I thought to myself in a confused way, as I saw him come into our room, and the light fell on Esau, who was not undressed, but lying on his bed with his mouth wide open.Suddenly he started up, and Mr Raydon raised his hand, and I heard him say, “Sh!” The next minute he was holding the candle over my bed, looking in on my face.“What’s the matter?” I said; “I’m not asleep;” but it did not sound like my voice speaking.It was Mr Raydon’s turn now, and he whispered to me—“Lie quite still, Mayne. Are you in much pain?”“No,” I said. “I don’t know. My shoulder aches.”“Don’t talk; try and go to sleep again.”I looked up at him in a confused, puzzled way, and as I looked his face began to grow misty, and the candle to burn more dimly, till both faded slowly away, and all was dark once more.I opened my eyes once more, and there was Mr Raydon standing by me with a candle, and it was so faint that I could not be sure; and so it was again and again as it seemed to me, and when I opened my eyes at last, the bedroom window was wide, the sun shining in, and bringing with it the sweet lemon-scented odour of the pines, and Esau was seated there watching me.“Hush!” he said, as I was opening my lips to speak. “Mustn’t talk.”“Nonsense,” I said; “I want to know.”I stopped there, for my voice puzzled me, and I lay wondering for a few moments, till, like a flash of the sunshine coming into my darkened brain, I recollected the blow, the report of the rifle, and Esau’s cry, and knew that the rifle had gone off when he fell, and I was lying there badly wounded.“Mr Raydon said you wasn’t to speak a word,” said Esau, softly; and he stole out of the room so quietly that I knew he must be without his boots.A few minutes passed, and the door opened again, with Mr Raydon coming in on tiptoe to advance and take my right hand within his left, and place a couple of fingers on my wrist. I smiled as he played the part of doctor like this, and he smiled back.“Don’t talk,” he said; “I’ll do that, my lad. Come, this is better. Not so feverish as I expected. Just whisper when I ask a question. Feel in much pain?”“My shoulder aches and burns,” I said.“Yes; it will for a time; but that will soon go off. You remember now about the accident? Yes? That’s right. You were a little delirious last night, and made me anxious, for we have no doctor hereabouts.”“Don’t want one,” said Esau, softly.Mr Raydon asked me a few more questions, cautioned me not to speak much, and to lie quite still, and then left us together.Esau sat looking at me for a few minutes with his arms rested upon his extended knees.“I say, you’re not to talk, you know, but I may. I say, I am so sorry. Hush!—no! You mustn’t say you know that, or anything else. I only want to tell you it was an accident. You do know, don’t you?”I nodded, and then lay back with my eyes closed; the pain caused even by that slight movement being agonising.Dean saw it, and rose to moisten a sponge with cool water, and apply it to my temples, with the effect that the faint sensation coming on died away.“Don’t—please don’t try to move again,” he whispered, piteously. “You don’t know how it hurts.”The idea of its hurting Esau sounded so comical to me in my weak state that I could not help smiling. “That’s right,” he said; “laugh again, and then I shall know I needn’t go and fetch him. I say, do make haste and get better. Shall I tell you all about it? Don’t speak; only say ‘yes’ and ‘no’ with your eyes. Keep ’em open if you meanyes, and shut ’em forno. Now then, shall I tell you?”I kept looking at him fixedly.“That means yes. Well, I was bringing the gun, when I tripped and fell and it went off, and I wished it had shot me instead.”Esau gave a gulp here, and got up and began to walk up and down the room, pressing first one hand and then the other under his arms as if in pain from a cut at school with the cane; and for some moments the poor fellow was suffering so from emotion that he could not continue. At last he went on in obedience to an eager look from my eyes.“I run up just as he caught you, and tore off your things. Oh, it was horrid. I felt when I saw what I’d done, and him bandaging you up, as if I’d killed you. But you don’t feel so bad now. You ain’t going to die, are you? Say you ain’t.”I kept my eyes fixed on his, forgetting in my excitement what I ought to have done, when a cry brought me to myself, and I closed my eyes sharply.“Ah, that’s better,” cried Esau, and kneeling down by my bed he went on telling me how, as soon as I was bandaged, Mr Raydon cut two light poles and bound short pieces across them. Then on these he laid pine-boughs, and I was lifted up, for them to convey me slowly down the ravine, and back to the Fort.“I say,” whispered Esau, “I thought last night he meant to cheat us, and get all the gold for himself; but I don’t think so now. Wish he liked me as much as he likes you. What? Do I think he does like you? Yes; I’m sure of it. He was in a taking last night. And I say—ain’t he quite a doctor too? He could do anything, I believe. There, I mustn’t talk to you any more, because you were to be kept quiet.”It must not be imagined that Esau had kept on saying all the above to me rapidly, for one of these sentences was whispered very slowly now and then as I lay back feeling not much pain, but hot and feverish, and this change was noticed soon after by Mr Raydon when he came into the room.“You have been letting him talk,” he said, angrily, as soon as he had taken my hand.“That I ain’t, sir,” cried Esau, indignantly. “Never let him speak a word.”“That’s right. He must be kept very still,” said our friend, and he hurriedly left the room.“Rather hard on a chap when he has been so particular,” grumbled Esau. “Well, it was my doing, so I mustn’t mind.”He was still grumbling when our host re-entered with something in a cup which he gave me a little at a time, so that I should not have to move, and soon after he had left me my eyelids grew heavy, and I fell into a deep sleep, which lasted till it was growing dark, and I could only just make out Esau’s head as he sat watching by my bed.

When I opened my eyes again it was with a horrible sensation of sickness at my heart, and my eyes swam, but I could dimly make out Mr Raydon’s face, as he leaned over me, and I heard him say, as if he was speaking a very long way from me in a very small voice—

“That’s right; go on. Keep bathing his face.”

Then I heard Esau speak in a faint choking voice.

“Oh, sir! oh, sir! He won’t die, will he? Tell me he won’t die.”

“I tell you to keep on bathing his face. There, take that basket and throw the wretched gold back into the stream. The basket will hold a little water at the bottom. No, no! squeeze what you have in your handkerchief first over his face.”

There was a cool refreshing sensation on my face directly after, and all the time I could hear that Esau was in great trouble, for he kept on softer with a curious moaning voice—

“Oh—oh—oh—oh!”

It seemed very strange, and sounded to me as if it was all occurring some distance off, and I wanted to shout to him, and ask what was the matter. But Mr Raydon was still leaning over me, pulling me about it seemed, and a sharp pain suddenly shot through me, and made me wince.

“Don’t—don’t,” I said, faintly; but he kept on burning me, so it seemed to me, with a red-hot iron in the chest; and after doing this for some time, while Esau kept on after a bit making his low moaning sound and splashing water over my face, Mr Raydon turned me over, and began burning me on the back.

I wanted to struggle, and tell him to leave off, but no words would come; and he kept on hurting me dreadfully, and pushing me about, for what seemed to be a terribly long time, before he turned me again upon my back.

“Oh, do tell me, sir, please do tell me, whether he’ll die,” I heard Esau say again, and I fancied that I caught sight of him through a thick cloud.

“I cannot tell you, my lad,” I heard Mr Raydon say. “Please God! no.”

“But I shot him, sir; I shot him. It was me, and I declare to goodness I’d sooner have shot myself.”

“Yes, my lad, I believe you,” said Mr Raydon, very faintly, from further away now.

“Is it—is it right through the heart?”

“No, no, no, not, so bad as that. The bullet has passed right through just below the shoulder.”

“There—then he’ll bleed to death,” groaned Esau.

“No; I’ve stopped that. Quick! more water; he’s going off again.”

“He’s dying! he’s dying!” cried Esau, very close to me now, as it seemed to me; but his voice died out quickly, beginning as a shrill cry and ending in a faint whisper, and it all grew dark and silent for a time. Then once more I seemed to wake up with a shrill-toned bell ringing loudly in my ears; and I lay with a terrible sensation of deathly faintness till I heard Esau say, close to me—“I’ll carry him, sir.”

“No, no, my lad.”

“But you don’t know how strong I am, sir.”

“We must not shake him more than we can help, and he must be in an easy position. Have you your knife? I left mine.”

“Yes, sir, here,” cried Esau; and then in a low voice, “Oh, poor chap! poor chap!—what have I done!”

I lay very still then, listening to a hacking noise as if some one were chopping with a knife, and I listened again for what seemed a long time to a good deal of rustling and panting, and what sounded like the tearing up of handkerchiefs.

“There,” said Mr Raydon, “if we are careful that will bear him. Now then—no, wait a moment. I must tie the rifle to this pole. I want something else.”

“Here’s my other boot-string, sir,” I heard Esau say.

“Yes, capital. That will do. Now, are you ready? Get hold of his legs quietly; don’t hesitate, and when I saynow, both lift together.”

I had some faint, wondering thought as to whom they were talking about, when a terrible pang shot through me, and I felt myself lifted up and laid down again on what felt like a bed of fir-branches. The sickness did not increase, and I lay there listening to some one moaning as if in pain, while I became conscious of a curious, swinging motion as I was being gently borne up and down and carried through the air.

Then I seemed to fall into an uneasy sleep, and to lie and dream about Mr Raydon burning my chest with red-hot irons, and these changed to little nuggets of gold which burnt me every time they touched my chest or back. At times the pain ceased, and then it began again, always with the swaying motion, while now and then, when the movement ceased, I began to dream of cool fresh water moistening my brow, and being trickled between my burning lips.

That was a long, wearisome, painful dream, which lasted for what felt like an indefinite time, to be succeeded by other dreams in which the terrible bear’s head from Mr Raydon’s office was always pursuing me, and the great moose’s head looking on in a melancholy, pitiful way.

And it did not appear strange to me that as I tried to escape and started on up and up a ravine where the sun scorched my brains, that the heads should be following without, any bodies. There they always were, the bear’s head with the huge teeth waiting to seize me if I only halted for a minute, and the moose’s head hurrying on to be there and pity me when I was caught.

How I seemed to toil in terrible agony to get away, the sun burning, and the way up which I climbed growing more and more stony with precipices, down which I was always about to fall! Then great rows of the heads of the mountain sheep came in my way with their large curled horns threatening to drive me back into the jaws of the grizzly bear, which was always close behind. It seemed hidden sometimes behind heaps of skins, but I always knew it was there, and its great muzzle came out again.

I tried to run—to climb further, but something held me back, and the burning on my head grew terrible. I was thirsty too, and I thought that the moose pitied me, and would show me the way to water; but it only looked at me mournfully till I awoke in the darkness, and lay wondering for a few minutes before I stretched out my hand and felt that I was in my bed, and as I lay there, I suddenly saw in the darkness the shape of my door formed by four faint streaks of light which grew brighter, and directly after there was the sharp point of light where the keyhole was, near one side.

It seemed very strange, and more so that the door should open directly after, and Mr Raydon be standing there in his shirt and trousers carrying a candle.

“What does he want?” I thought to myself in a confused way, as I saw him come into our room, and the light fell on Esau, who was not undressed, but lying on his bed with his mouth wide open.

Suddenly he started up, and Mr Raydon raised his hand, and I heard him say, “Sh!” The next minute he was holding the candle over my bed, looking in on my face.

“What’s the matter?” I said; “I’m not asleep;” but it did not sound like my voice speaking.

It was Mr Raydon’s turn now, and he whispered to me—

“Lie quite still, Mayne. Are you in much pain?”

“No,” I said. “I don’t know. My shoulder aches.”

“Don’t talk; try and go to sleep again.”

I looked up at him in a confused, puzzled way, and as I looked his face began to grow misty, and the candle to burn more dimly, till both faded slowly away, and all was dark once more.

I opened my eyes once more, and there was Mr Raydon standing by me with a candle, and it was so faint that I could not be sure; and so it was again and again as it seemed to me, and when I opened my eyes at last, the bedroom window was wide, the sun shining in, and bringing with it the sweet lemon-scented odour of the pines, and Esau was seated there watching me.

“Hush!” he said, as I was opening my lips to speak. “Mustn’t talk.”

“Nonsense,” I said; “I want to know.”

I stopped there, for my voice puzzled me, and I lay wondering for a few moments, till, like a flash of the sunshine coming into my darkened brain, I recollected the blow, the report of the rifle, and Esau’s cry, and knew that the rifle had gone off when he fell, and I was lying there badly wounded.

“Mr Raydon said you wasn’t to speak a word,” said Esau, softly; and he stole out of the room so quietly that I knew he must be without his boots.

A few minutes passed, and the door opened again, with Mr Raydon coming in on tiptoe to advance and take my right hand within his left, and place a couple of fingers on my wrist. I smiled as he played the part of doctor like this, and he smiled back.

“Don’t talk,” he said; “I’ll do that, my lad. Come, this is better. Not so feverish as I expected. Just whisper when I ask a question. Feel in much pain?”

“My shoulder aches and burns,” I said.

“Yes; it will for a time; but that will soon go off. You remember now about the accident? Yes? That’s right. You were a little delirious last night, and made me anxious, for we have no doctor hereabouts.”

“Don’t want one,” said Esau, softly.

Mr Raydon asked me a few more questions, cautioned me not to speak much, and to lie quite still, and then left us together.

Esau sat looking at me for a few minutes with his arms rested upon his extended knees.

“I say, you’re not to talk, you know, but I may. I say, I am so sorry. Hush!—no! You mustn’t say you know that, or anything else. I only want to tell you it was an accident. You do know, don’t you?”

I nodded, and then lay back with my eyes closed; the pain caused even by that slight movement being agonising.

Dean saw it, and rose to moisten a sponge with cool water, and apply it to my temples, with the effect that the faint sensation coming on died away.

“Don’t—please don’t try to move again,” he whispered, piteously. “You don’t know how it hurts.”

The idea of its hurting Esau sounded so comical to me in my weak state that I could not help smiling. “That’s right,” he said; “laugh again, and then I shall know I needn’t go and fetch him. I say, do make haste and get better. Shall I tell you all about it? Don’t speak; only say ‘yes’ and ‘no’ with your eyes. Keep ’em open if you meanyes, and shut ’em forno. Now then, shall I tell you?”

I kept looking at him fixedly.

“That means yes. Well, I was bringing the gun, when I tripped and fell and it went off, and I wished it had shot me instead.”

Esau gave a gulp here, and got up and began to walk up and down the room, pressing first one hand and then the other under his arms as if in pain from a cut at school with the cane; and for some moments the poor fellow was suffering so from emotion that he could not continue. At last he went on in obedience to an eager look from my eyes.

“I run up just as he caught you, and tore off your things. Oh, it was horrid. I felt when I saw what I’d done, and him bandaging you up, as if I’d killed you. But you don’t feel so bad now. You ain’t going to die, are you? Say you ain’t.”

I kept my eyes fixed on his, forgetting in my excitement what I ought to have done, when a cry brought me to myself, and I closed my eyes sharply.

“Ah, that’s better,” cried Esau, and kneeling down by my bed he went on telling me how, as soon as I was bandaged, Mr Raydon cut two light poles and bound short pieces across them. Then on these he laid pine-boughs, and I was lifted up, for them to convey me slowly down the ravine, and back to the Fort.

“I say,” whispered Esau, “I thought last night he meant to cheat us, and get all the gold for himself; but I don’t think so now. Wish he liked me as much as he likes you. What? Do I think he does like you? Yes; I’m sure of it. He was in a taking last night. And I say—ain’t he quite a doctor too? He could do anything, I believe. There, I mustn’t talk to you any more, because you were to be kept quiet.”

It must not be imagined that Esau had kept on saying all the above to me rapidly, for one of these sentences was whispered very slowly now and then as I lay back feeling not much pain, but hot and feverish, and this change was noticed soon after by Mr Raydon when he came into the room.

“You have been letting him talk,” he said, angrily, as soon as he had taken my hand.

“That I ain’t, sir,” cried Esau, indignantly. “Never let him speak a word.”

“That’s right. He must be kept very still,” said our friend, and he hurriedly left the room.

“Rather hard on a chap when he has been so particular,” grumbled Esau. “Well, it was my doing, so I mustn’t mind.”

He was still grumbling when our host re-entered with something in a cup which he gave me a little at a time, so that I should not have to move, and soon after he had left me my eyelids grew heavy, and I fell into a deep sleep, which lasted till it was growing dark, and I could only just make out Esau’s head as he sat watching by my bed.

Chapter Thirty Seven.In the Spring.Ask anybody what is the most delicious thing in life, and see what he or she will say. I do not believe any one will tell you what I do now. It is to have been dangerously ill, to be brought down very weak, to be getting better, and then to be carried or led out to sit in the sunshine of some bright genial morning.Ah! that long breath of sweet life-inspiring air—those trees—those flowers—the blue sky—the bark of that dog—those kindly words of inquiry—that all-round feeling of joy and delight at being out there once more; the sensation which will bring the weak tears in your eyes for the simple reason that you are so happy. Yes, it is a pleasant thing to have been very ill, if only for the sake of the thankful sensation that comes the first time you go out once more in the bright sunshine.How delightful it was, and what a long weary dream of misery I had passed through! I hardly knew even then how bad I had been. When I spoke to Esau he used to screw his face up full of wrinkles, and shake his head, while Mr Raydon was as reticent.“Never mind that,” he would say; “you are better now.”I learned later though, that for several months he had been in great doubt of my recovery. My wound would not heal, consequent upon a ragged fragment of the rifle-bullet remaining beneath a bone, and when at last it did come away, I was weak in the extreme, and, as Esau said, “You couldn’t get a doctor when you liked out there.”So there I lay all through the long dark days of the winter, listening sometimes to the howling of the winds from the mountains, then to the beat and rush of the rain, and then at my worst time wondering why everything was so quiet, and learning from Esau that we were snowed up deeply.I remember that he used to talk rapturously about the beauty of the scene around, with the great pine-trees loaded down with snow, and the sun in the clear blue sky, making the crystals of ice glitter till his eyes ached.“And you won’t get up and come and have a look,” he said. “You are a fellow.”“Yes, I am a fellow,” I replied. “Don’t bother me, Esau. I want to go to sleep.”“But you’re always going to sleep,” he cried; “and so much sleep can’t be good for you.”All the same I passed through that long winter, and it seemed as if I never should be strong again.But, as the old country folk say, “Never’s a long day”; and as the earth began to waken from its lone sleep, so did I, and at last I was dressed to sit by the bonny log fire Esau kept up as if he meant to roast me. There came a day when I sat with my window open, listening to the roar of the river, thinking and ready to ask myself whether it had all been a dream. Then another day, when the sun was shining, and the scent of the pines came to where I sat; and at last in the spring-time I was to go out for the first time. I had to lean on patient, constant Esau, and use a stick to get to where a chair had been set for me at the foot of a great Douglas pine, where the moss was golden green, and the barberry leaves bright with a purply bronze. The river ran foaming and splashing before me at the bottom of a slope, looking milky and dirty, but down the rocks close by tumbled and sparkled one of the many tiny streams, and this was clear as crystal, and the brook flashed like diamonds in the bright sunshine.There was a great scarlet blanket thrown over the chair, ready to be drawn round me as soon as I had taken my seat; and as soon as Esau had safely piloted me there, looking serious as a judge all the time, he suddenly seemed to go mad, for he cut a curious caper, threw his cap high up in the air, and shouted “Hurrah.”“There,” he cried, as I lay back smiling and content, “you just say you ain’t getting well, and I’ll pitch into you.”“I’m not going to say it,” I said. “Oh, Esau, I do feel so weak, but so happy and well. I say though, don’t shoot me again.”Esau’s countenance changed. All the pleasure faded out, and he turned his back, and began walking slowly away.“Esau,” I said, “don’t go.”“I must,” he said, stopping short, but without trying to face me. “Got to fetch your stoo. He said it was the best physic you could take.”“But, Esau, I don’t want it now; I’m sorry I said that.”“So am I; sooner ha’ shot myself hundreds o’ times. Wish I had shot myself dead instead, and then you wouldn’t be able to jump on me.”“It was very unkind,” I said; “please forgive me.”“All right, I’m going to fetch your stoo.”He did not turn round, but walked away toward the gate of the palisade just as there was a fierce deep-toned barking, and Rough came bounding down toward my chair.“He’ll knock me over,” I thought, as I saw his gleaming teeth, and the thick pile of hair about his neck, a natural armour which had protected him in many an encounter with wolf or bear. And for the moment it seemed as if the great animal would send me clean over as he charged wildly; but just as he was close to me he turned off, dashed away, came back, up and down, barking furiously, and ended by making a sudden stop, to stand there with his great muzzle laid in my lap, and his eyes looking earnestly up in mine.I placed my hand upon his head, and as I did so I could not help thinking how thin and white it was; and this made me lie back recalling how bad I must have been, and how clever Mr Raydon had been to save my life, tending me as he had just like a doctor. That made me think too of every one else—the men’s wives, who had waited on me and brought me flowers; Grey, who shot game; and above all of Quong and Esau, who had seemed to spend all their time in attending upon one who had been irritable, and as helpless as a baby.As I thought, my fingers played about the great head in my lap, pulling the long ears, stroking the muzzle, and all the time the eyes blinked up at me, and once there was a long-drawn sigh as of satisfaction, which made me ready to fancy that even the dog was glad to see me out again after my long, weary illness.All at once Rough raised his head and uttered a low, muttering growl, followed by a couple of short barks; and on looking round there were Esau and Quong coming, the latter bearing a basin and a plate of bread.“Velly good soup,” said Quong, eagerly. “Velly stlong. Quite leady.”He placed the basin on my knees, Rough drawing back a little, and looking as if it was hard work not to make a snatch at that cake and bear it off. But he had been well trained, and sat watching me patiently, content to catch the pieces thrown to him with a loud snap, while I partook of what Esau called my “stoo.”It was very good, and “so stlong,” as Quong called it, that I felt as if I ought to feel the strength coming back into my weak arms and legs.“Dlink um allee up,” said Quong; and I persevered and finished the contents of the basin, which he then took, nodded at me, and then turned to the dog, who stood now on all fours and barked at him fiercely.“Hey?” cried Quong. “You say wantee allee bone left?”There was a peal of furious barks here.“Allee light. You come ’long. Velly good dog.”Rough uttered another hoarse bay, and went off after the little Chinaman, looking so big by his side that I could not help thinking of what the consequences might have been if they had proved enemies instead of friends.“Well, Esau,” I said, “I’m a long time growing well.”“Oh, I don’t know. You’re getting on now fast. I say, do you ever think about that gold now?”“Oh, yes,” I replied, with a shudder; “often.”“Well,” he said, in an ill-used tone, “you needn’t think of the accident too. For it was an accident, you know.”“Yes, we’ve talked about that times enough, all those weary months.”“Yes, it was tiring, and it put a stop to all the hunting and shooting we might have had. But it’s been good as well as bad. You missed lots of bad weather, and cold, and snow.”“What’s the day of the month?” I said.“Day of the month? I dunno. End of March, they say, and it’s going to be fine weather now.”“Has Mr Raydon ever said anything to you about the gold?”“No, never a word. But I say, it do seem a pity not to get more of it, don’t it?”“I don’t know,” I replied. “I want strength, not gold. How long will it be before Mr and Mrs John get here?”“Ah, that’s what I want to know,” cried Esau. “I was thinking about that this morning; leastwise I wasn’t thinking about them, but about mother. Wonder what she’ll say to me when she knows?”“Knows what?”“’Bout me shooting you. She will be wild, for she was a deal fonder of you than she was of me.”“Nonsense, Esau!” I cried. “Why, she used to talk to me about you for hours.”“Dessay she did. But, I say, do make haste and get well before the Indians come again. Grey says they’ll be here soon with loads of skins that they’ve shot and trapped in the winter.”Our conversation was interrupted by the coming of Mr Raydon.“Ah, Mayne,” he said; “that’s better. You must keep that up every day when it’s fine. Fresh air and the scent of our pines form the finest strengthening medicine a sick man can have.”He stopped chatting to me for some time, and at last I ventured upon the topic which interested both Esau and myself.“How long do I think it will be before the travellers get across to us? Hah! that’s a poser, my lad. So much depends upon my sister’s health, and her ability to travel. Of course they have been resting during the worst time. However, I hope they will not be here till you are thoroughly on your legs again.”

Ask anybody what is the most delicious thing in life, and see what he or she will say. I do not believe any one will tell you what I do now. It is to have been dangerously ill, to be brought down very weak, to be getting better, and then to be carried or led out to sit in the sunshine of some bright genial morning.

Ah! that long breath of sweet life-inspiring air—those trees—those flowers—the blue sky—the bark of that dog—those kindly words of inquiry—that all-round feeling of joy and delight at being out there once more; the sensation which will bring the weak tears in your eyes for the simple reason that you are so happy. Yes, it is a pleasant thing to have been very ill, if only for the sake of the thankful sensation that comes the first time you go out once more in the bright sunshine.

How delightful it was, and what a long weary dream of misery I had passed through! I hardly knew even then how bad I had been. When I spoke to Esau he used to screw his face up full of wrinkles, and shake his head, while Mr Raydon was as reticent.

“Never mind that,” he would say; “you are better now.”

I learned later though, that for several months he had been in great doubt of my recovery. My wound would not heal, consequent upon a ragged fragment of the rifle-bullet remaining beneath a bone, and when at last it did come away, I was weak in the extreme, and, as Esau said, “You couldn’t get a doctor when you liked out there.”

So there I lay all through the long dark days of the winter, listening sometimes to the howling of the winds from the mountains, then to the beat and rush of the rain, and then at my worst time wondering why everything was so quiet, and learning from Esau that we were snowed up deeply.

I remember that he used to talk rapturously about the beauty of the scene around, with the great pine-trees loaded down with snow, and the sun in the clear blue sky, making the crystals of ice glitter till his eyes ached.

“And you won’t get up and come and have a look,” he said. “You are a fellow.”

“Yes, I am a fellow,” I replied. “Don’t bother me, Esau. I want to go to sleep.”

“But you’re always going to sleep,” he cried; “and so much sleep can’t be good for you.”

All the same I passed through that long winter, and it seemed as if I never should be strong again.

But, as the old country folk say, “Never’s a long day”; and as the earth began to waken from its lone sleep, so did I, and at last I was dressed to sit by the bonny log fire Esau kept up as if he meant to roast me. There came a day when I sat with my window open, listening to the roar of the river, thinking and ready to ask myself whether it had all been a dream. Then another day, when the sun was shining, and the scent of the pines came to where I sat; and at last in the spring-time I was to go out for the first time. I had to lean on patient, constant Esau, and use a stick to get to where a chair had been set for me at the foot of a great Douglas pine, where the moss was golden green, and the barberry leaves bright with a purply bronze. The river ran foaming and splashing before me at the bottom of a slope, looking milky and dirty, but down the rocks close by tumbled and sparkled one of the many tiny streams, and this was clear as crystal, and the brook flashed like diamonds in the bright sunshine.

There was a great scarlet blanket thrown over the chair, ready to be drawn round me as soon as I had taken my seat; and as soon as Esau had safely piloted me there, looking serious as a judge all the time, he suddenly seemed to go mad, for he cut a curious caper, threw his cap high up in the air, and shouted “Hurrah.”

“There,” he cried, as I lay back smiling and content, “you just say you ain’t getting well, and I’ll pitch into you.”

“I’m not going to say it,” I said. “Oh, Esau, I do feel so weak, but so happy and well. I say though, don’t shoot me again.”

Esau’s countenance changed. All the pleasure faded out, and he turned his back, and began walking slowly away.

“Esau,” I said, “don’t go.”

“I must,” he said, stopping short, but without trying to face me. “Got to fetch your stoo. He said it was the best physic you could take.”

“But, Esau, I don’t want it now; I’m sorry I said that.”

“So am I; sooner ha’ shot myself hundreds o’ times. Wish I had shot myself dead instead, and then you wouldn’t be able to jump on me.”

“It was very unkind,” I said; “please forgive me.”

“All right, I’m going to fetch your stoo.”

He did not turn round, but walked away toward the gate of the palisade just as there was a fierce deep-toned barking, and Rough came bounding down toward my chair.

“He’ll knock me over,” I thought, as I saw his gleaming teeth, and the thick pile of hair about his neck, a natural armour which had protected him in many an encounter with wolf or bear. And for the moment it seemed as if the great animal would send me clean over as he charged wildly; but just as he was close to me he turned off, dashed away, came back, up and down, barking furiously, and ended by making a sudden stop, to stand there with his great muzzle laid in my lap, and his eyes looking earnestly up in mine.

I placed my hand upon his head, and as I did so I could not help thinking how thin and white it was; and this made me lie back recalling how bad I must have been, and how clever Mr Raydon had been to save my life, tending me as he had just like a doctor. That made me think too of every one else—the men’s wives, who had waited on me and brought me flowers; Grey, who shot game; and above all of Quong and Esau, who had seemed to spend all their time in attending upon one who had been irritable, and as helpless as a baby.

As I thought, my fingers played about the great head in my lap, pulling the long ears, stroking the muzzle, and all the time the eyes blinked up at me, and once there was a long-drawn sigh as of satisfaction, which made me ready to fancy that even the dog was glad to see me out again after my long, weary illness.

All at once Rough raised his head and uttered a low, muttering growl, followed by a couple of short barks; and on looking round there were Esau and Quong coming, the latter bearing a basin and a plate of bread.

“Velly good soup,” said Quong, eagerly. “Velly stlong. Quite leady.”

He placed the basin on my knees, Rough drawing back a little, and looking as if it was hard work not to make a snatch at that cake and bear it off. But he had been well trained, and sat watching me patiently, content to catch the pieces thrown to him with a loud snap, while I partook of what Esau called my “stoo.”

It was very good, and “so stlong,” as Quong called it, that I felt as if I ought to feel the strength coming back into my weak arms and legs.

“Dlink um allee up,” said Quong; and I persevered and finished the contents of the basin, which he then took, nodded at me, and then turned to the dog, who stood now on all fours and barked at him fiercely.

“Hey?” cried Quong. “You say wantee allee bone left?”

There was a peal of furious barks here.

“Allee light. You come ’long. Velly good dog.”

Rough uttered another hoarse bay, and went off after the little Chinaman, looking so big by his side that I could not help thinking of what the consequences might have been if they had proved enemies instead of friends.

“Well, Esau,” I said, “I’m a long time growing well.”

“Oh, I don’t know. You’re getting on now fast. I say, do you ever think about that gold now?”

“Oh, yes,” I replied, with a shudder; “often.”

“Well,” he said, in an ill-used tone, “you needn’t think of the accident too. For it was an accident, you know.”

“Yes, we’ve talked about that times enough, all those weary months.”

“Yes, it was tiring, and it put a stop to all the hunting and shooting we might have had. But it’s been good as well as bad. You missed lots of bad weather, and cold, and snow.”

“What’s the day of the month?” I said.

“Day of the month? I dunno. End of March, they say, and it’s going to be fine weather now.”

“Has Mr Raydon ever said anything to you about the gold?”

“No, never a word. But I say, it do seem a pity not to get more of it, don’t it?”

“I don’t know,” I replied. “I want strength, not gold. How long will it be before Mr and Mrs John get here?”

“Ah, that’s what I want to know,” cried Esau. “I was thinking about that this morning; leastwise I wasn’t thinking about them, but about mother. Wonder what she’ll say to me when she knows?”

“Knows what?”

“’Bout me shooting you. She will be wild, for she was a deal fonder of you than she was of me.”

“Nonsense, Esau!” I cried. “Why, she used to talk to me about you for hours.”

“Dessay she did. But, I say, do make haste and get well before the Indians come again. Grey says they’ll be here soon with loads of skins that they’ve shot and trapped in the winter.”

Our conversation was interrupted by the coming of Mr Raydon.

“Ah, Mayne,” he said; “that’s better. You must keep that up every day when it’s fine. Fresh air and the scent of our pines form the finest strengthening medicine a sick man can have.”

He stopped chatting to me for some time, and at last I ventured upon the topic which interested both Esau and myself.

“How long do I think it will be before the travellers get across to us? Hah! that’s a poser, my lad. So much depends upon my sister’s health, and her ability to travel. Of course they have been resting during the worst time. However, I hope they will not be here till you are thoroughly on your legs again.”

Chapter Thirty Eight.“Do I look fortunate?”As the time glided on I used to be quite in despair.“I don’t get any stronger, Esau,” I used to say, pettishly.“What? Why, look at you!” he’d cry. “On’y t’other day you was walking with a stick and a crutch.”“I was not,” I said, indignantly. “I never had a crutch.”“That you did, sir,” he said, with a chuckle; “and now you’ve chucked ’em both away and goes alone.”“But my legs feel so weak, and ache so directly.”“Tchah! What o’ that! Why, only t’other day they used to double up like an old two-foot rule, or a knife with the spring broke. You’re coming all right enough. I say, I want to talk to you.”He gave a sharp look round as we stood beside the stream where it entered the river—the stream up which we had found the gold, and to whose bank we had come to catch trout with rods and lines of our own manufacture, and grasshoppers for bait.I had been fishing, but after taking three decent trout, I had lain down wearied out, and now Esau squatted down by me, with his rod across his knees.“I say,” he whispered, “what about that gold up yonder?”“Well, what about it?”“Don’t you never think about it a deal?”“Sometimes. Do you?”“Always. I can’t get away from it. Seems as if something’s always tempting me to go and get it.”“But you cannot,” I said, sharply. “We gave our word to Mr Raydon.”“Yes, that’s the worst of it. I can’t think how a fellow can be so stupid.”“Let it go, and don’t think about it.”“That’s what I want to do, but I can’t help myself, and I’m always wanting to get lots of it, and be rich.”“Rubbish!” I cried, testily.“Gold ain’t rubbish,” said Esau, gruffly. “Of course I should give you half.”“We promised Mr Raydon not to touch that gold any more,” I said; “so don’t talk or think about it. Promise me.”“I’ll promise not to talk about it,” he replied; “but it’s no use to promise not to think about it, because it will come. Why, I dream about it every night.”“Then you must not,” I said. “I was talking to Mr Raydon last night about what is to be done when Mr John comes.”“Well, what does he say? Anything about the gold?”“No,” I cried, fiercely. “Of course you think about it if you are always talking of it. He says that he thinks the best thing will be for Mr John to have some land lower down the river at a place we passed; that there are twenty or thirty acres of good rich soil, and that as he will have us with him, we must learn to use axes and help him to clear the land, and plant it with fruit-trees, and build a house on the clearing.”“Yes; that’s all right enough, only the trees take so long to bear.”“That he will help us with different things till we can manage alone; and that before many years are gone we can make ourselves quite a good home.”“Oh!” ejaculated Esau. “But then that will take a long time, and you won’t be able to work much, and I don’t think Mr John Dempster will, not being strong, and all the time there’s enough gold up—”“Will you hold your tongue?” I cried, angrily. “Do you want me to hit you?”“If you like,” he said, grinning. “Don’t think you could hurt me much.”“You coward!” I cried. “Wait till I get strong again.”“I shall be precious glad,” said Esau, “for I’d a deal rather you gave me one or two cracks than kept on saying the things you do sometimes. My! how you have given it me ever since you have been ill! It has made you raspy.”I winced a little at this, for I felt that I had been horribly irritable.“I can’t help thinking about the gold, but I won’t say gold no more as long as I live.”I could not help laughing at this earnest delivery, and Esau showed his teeth.“There, I don’t care,” he said. “I’m happy enough here if you’ll get well. But I do wish old Gunson knew about it.”I looked sharply at Esau, for these words of his impressed me. I had often wished that Gunson knew of what we had found, for I thought that perhaps he was struggling on without a bit of good fortune. The thoughts passed from my mind directly, as Esau began to make casts with his line here and there, as if fishing in the grass.“Well, I don’t mind,” he said. “Turn farmer, eh?—and plant trees, and cut trees down, and build a house. All right. It will be good enough, and you and me will go and shoot and fish. I shall like it. Shall we have old Quong?”“I suppose so, if he’ll stay. There, let’s go on fishing, and take back some trout for Mr Raydon’s tea. I do feel so idle and helpless. Do you think he ever feels that we are staying too long?”“Dunno,” said Esau. “I should if I was him.”These words made me feel very low-spirited, and that night I broached the subject to Mr Raydon, apologising for being there so helpless and weak, and ending by asking him if I had not better go down to the mouth of the river again.He looked at me searchingly.“Tired of this place?” he said.“Oh no,” I replied. “I have been very happy here.”“Then why do you talk of going?”“Because I feel as if I must be a burden to you.”“Indeed! Well, suppose I say go, and you make your way back along the river very slowly, for you are in a miserably weak state?”“Yes, sir; but I am getting better now.”“Yes, I know; but suppose, as soon as you are gone, my sister and her husband appear, what am I to say to them?”“I had not thought of that,” I replied.“But you see I had. But come, Mayne, be frank with me. You have some other reason for wanting to go.”He looked at me so searchingly that I coloured, for I could feel my cheeks burning.“No, sir,” I said; “no other reason.”“Not gold-hunting?”“No; indeed, no.”“But you and Dean have been talking about your discovery a good deal.”“I—I think not, sir,” I said, hesitatingly. “We have talked about it.”“And what a pity it is for a fortune to be lying there untouched?”“Dean thought something of the kind, sir. I did not.”“Ha!” he said, as he again fixed me with his eyes. “No, Mayne, you must not think of going away. You have not exhausted my stock of hospitality yet.”Perhaps it was fancy, I said to myself, but it certainly seemed to me during the next few days, whenever I went out for a good long stroll with Esau, some one seemed to be watching us.One day it was Grey who encountered us somewhere on the mountain-side; another day it was one of the men; and again, on another, Mr Raydon himself, whose presence was announced by the great dog, who came bounding up, to be followed in a few minutes by his master.He did not stay long, but as soon as he was gone I found that my feelings were shared by Esau himself.“I say,” he growled, “are they afraid we are going to lose ourselves?”“Why?” I asked.“Because whenever we come right away into the woods, they send that dog to scent us out.”“Yes; they generally send somebody,” I said, thoughtfully.“Do you know why?” whispered Esau.I glanced at him, but did not answer.“It’s because the chief’s afraid we shall go up yonder trying for gold.”“And he does not trust us,” I said to myself, as I felt that Esau must be right; and the uncomfortable feeling of being suspected seemed to increase.I was thinking about this a good deal, and had made up my mind to ask Mr Raydon if he thought I could be so dishonourable, when we neared the Fort, and I was startled back from my musings which were carrying me on through the interior, when Esau uttered a cheery hail.“What’s the matter?” I said.“Can’t you see? Look!” he cried.“Gunson!” I exclaimed; and sure enough there he was, coming slowly towards us, looking very old and careworn, and as if he had gone through a great deal of trouble since we parted in the autumn.“Why, my lad,” he cried, shaking hands with me warmly, “you look quite thin and white. Been ill?”“Yes,” I said, as I grasped his hand warmly.“Fever?”“No,” I said, hesitatingly; “an accident.”“Why don’t you tell him?” said Esau, sturdily. “I shot him.”“You shot him?”“Yes,” I said, quickly; “he let the rifle slip out of his hand somehow, and the ball hit me.”“I’m not surprised,” cried Gunson, in a tone full of anger and contempt.“Don’t say any more about it,” I cried. “It was an accident, and I’m getting better fast. Tell me about what you have been doing.”Gunson laughed.“Walking, wading in rivers, washing sand, climbing mountains, exposed to all sorts of weather, half-starved, half-frozen, and all to get the tempting gold.”“No luck then?” said Esau, eagerly.“Not a bit, my lad.”“What, ain’t you found gold at all?”“Oh, yes, in scores of places, but always where it would cost thirty shillings to earn a pound’s worth. Not profitable work, eh?”Esau glanced at me, and I at Esau, the same thought in both our minds—that we could, in a couple of hours’ walk from where we were, show him—the wearied-out prospector—an ample supply.“If I only could tell him,” I thought, as I recalled how generous and kind he had always been to us. But it was impossible, and I darted a look at Esau which he understood, for he nodded at me in a curious way, setting me thinking that I must speak to him seriously again about our duty to Mr Raydon. I had hardly thought this when I saw the latter coming towards us.“Ah, Mr Gunson,” he said, with a sharp, keen glance, “you have kept your word, then, and come back.”“Yes, I’ve come back, and shall be glad of a day or two’s rest.”“You are welcome,” replied Mr Raydon. “Well, have you been very fortunate?”“What a question to ask me!” said Gunson; “the most unlucky man that ever lived! Do I look fortunate?”“No,” said Mr Raydon, smiling; “far from it. There, come up to my place, and let me hear what you have been doing.”As we approached the strangers’ quarters, Quong made his appearance with his eyes twinkling.“Plenty flesh tea,” he cried. “Plenty new blead.”“Hullo, my Celestial friend,” said Gunson, smiling at the eager-looking little fellow. “Did you see me coming?”“No. Not see. Gley tell me Mr Gunson come, and make tea dilectly, and cook bacon.”“Ready to come on with me now, Quong?” said Gunson. “I’m going up the western part.”Quong stared.“What! Go away? No. Stop allee long here.”“That’s right, my lad. Don’t leave good quarters. Been washing for gold lately?”“Eh? Washee washee gole? Too much piecy make work. Cook along big meat. No go out at all. You likee likee flesh blead, not blead high.”“Indeed, it will be a treat,” said Gunson, going into the place with Mr Raydon, while we kept back until he had finished his meal.“I say,” said Esau, as we walked about the enclosure, “can’t little Quong tell fibseys.”“That’s what I was thinking,” I replied. “Why, I’ve met him twice up the river trying for gold.”“Oh. I’ve seen him lots of times. He gets away when he has done his work, looking as innocent as you please, and all the time he’s hunting for gold. I say, you see if Mr Raydon don’t keep an eye on us for fear we should tell old Gunson. My! wouldn’t he like to know of our find. I can’t understand how it is that he who knows all about it should be so unlucky, and you—”“We,” I said.“Well, we, then—should be so lucky, and find so much. Dunno, though; it hasn’t brought us much luck as yet.”

As the time glided on I used to be quite in despair.

“I don’t get any stronger, Esau,” I used to say, pettishly.

“What? Why, look at you!” he’d cry. “On’y t’other day you was walking with a stick and a crutch.”

“I was not,” I said, indignantly. “I never had a crutch.”

“That you did, sir,” he said, with a chuckle; “and now you’ve chucked ’em both away and goes alone.”

“But my legs feel so weak, and ache so directly.”

“Tchah! What o’ that! Why, only t’other day they used to double up like an old two-foot rule, or a knife with the spring broke. You’re coming all right enough. I say, I want to talk to you.”

He gave a sharp look round as we stood beside the stream where it entered the river—the stream up which we had found the gold, and to whose bank we had come to catch trout with rods and lines of our own manufacture, and grasshoppers for bait.

I had been fishing, but after taking three decent trout, I had lain down wearied out, and now Esau squatted down by me, with his rod across his knees.

“I say,” he whispered, “what about that gold up yonder?”

“Well, what about it?”

“Don’t you never think about it a deal?”

“Sometimes. Do you?”

“Always. I can’t get away from it. Seems as if something’s always tempting me to go and get it.”

“But you cannot,” I said, sharply. “We gave our word to Mr Raydon.”

“Yes, that’s the worst of it. I can’t think how a fellow can be so stupid.”

“Let it go, and don’t think about it.”

“That’s what I want to do, but I can’t help myself, and I’m always wanting to get lots of it, and be rich.”

“Rubbish!” I cried, testily.

“Gold ain’t rubbish,” said Esau, gruffly. “Of course I should give you half.”

“We promised Mr Raydon not to touch that gold any more,” I said; “so don’t talk or think about it. Promise me.”

“I’ll promise not to talk about it,” he replied; “but it’s no use to promise not to think about it, because it will come. Why, I dream about it every night.”

“Then you must not,” I said. “I was talking to Mr Raydon last night about what is to be done when Mr John comes.”

“Well, what does he say? Anything about the gold?”

“No,” I cried, fiercely. “Of course you think about it if you are always talking of it. He says that he thinks the best thing will be for Mr John to have some land lower down the river at a place we passed; that there are twenty or thirty acres of good rich soil, and that as he will have us with him, we must learn to use axes and help him to clear the land, and plant it with fruit-trees, and build a house on the clearing.”

“Yes; that’s all right enough, only the trees take so long to bear.”

“That he will help us with different things till we can manage alone; and that before many years are gone we can make ourselves quite a good home.”

“Oh!” ejaculated Esau. “But then that will take a long time, and you won’t be able to work much, and I don’t think Mr John Dempster will, not being strong, and all the time there’s enough gold up—”

“Will you hold your tongue?” I cried, angrily. “Do you want me to hit you?”

“If you like,” he said, grinning. “Don’t think you could hurt me much.”

“You coward!” I cried. “Wait till I get strong again.”

“I shall be precious glad,” said Esau, “for I’d a deal rather you gave me one or two cracks than kept on saying the things you do sometimes. My! how you have given it me ever since you have been ill! It has made you raspy.”

I winced a little at this, for I felt that I had been horribly irritable.

“I can’t help thinking about the gold, but I won’t say gold no more as long as I live.”

I could not help laughing at this earnest delivery, and Esau showed his teeth.

“There, I don’t care,” he said. “I’m happy enough here if you’ll get well. But I do wish old Gunson knew about it.”

I looked sharply at Esau, for these words of his impressed me. I had often wished that Gunson knew of what we had found, for I thought that perhaps he was struggling on without a bit of good fortune. The thoughts passed from my mind directly, as Esau began to make casts with his line here and there, as if fishing in the grass.

“Well, I don’t mind,” he said. “Turn farmer, eh?—and plant trees, and cut trees down, and build a house. All right. It will be good enough, and you and me will go and shoot and fish. I shall like it. Shall we have old Quong?”

“I suppose so, if he’ll stay. There, let’s go on fishing, and take back some trout for Mr Raydon’s tea. I do feel so idle and helpless. Do you think he ever feels that we are staying too long?”

“Dunno,” said Esau. “I should if I was him.”

These words made me feel very low-spirited, and that night I broached the subject to Mr Raydon, apologising for being there so helpless and weak, and ending by asking him if I had not better go down to the mouth of the river again.

He looked at me searchingly.

“Tired of this place?” he said.

“Oh no,” I replied. “I have been very happy here.”

“Then why do you talk of going?”

“Because I feel as if I must be a burden to you.”

“Indeed! Well, suppose I say go, and you make your way back along the river very slowly, for you are in a miserably weak state?”

“Yes, sir; but I am getting better now.”

“Yes, I know; but suppose, as soon as you are gone, my sister and her husband appear, what am I to say to them?”

“I had not thought of that,” I replied.

“But you see I had. But come, Mayne, be frank with me. You have some other reason for wanting to go.”

He looked at me so searchingly that I coloured, for I could feel my cheeks burning.

“No, sir,” I said; “no other reason.”

“Not gold-hunting?”

“No; indeed, no.”

“But you and Dean have been talking about your discovery a good deal.”

“I—I think not, sir,” I said, hesitatingly. “We have talked about it.”

“And what a pity it is for a fortune to be lying there untouched?”

“Dean thought something of the kind, sir. I did not.”

“Ha!” he said, as he again fixed me with his eyes. “No, Mayne, you must not think of going away. You have not exhausted my stock of hospitality yet.”

Perhaps it was fancy, I said to myself, but it certainly seemed to me during the next few days, whenever I went out for a good long stroll with Esau, some one seemed to be watching us.

One day it was Grey who encountered us somewhere on the mountain-side; another day it was one of the men; and again, on another, Mr Raydon himself, whose presence was announced by the great dog, who came bounding up, to be followed in a few minutes by his master.

He did not stay long, but as soon as he was gone I found that my feelings were shared by Esau himself.

“I say,” he growled, “are they afraid we are going to lose ourselves?”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because whenever we come right away into the woods, they send that dog to scent us out.”

“Yes; they generally send somebody,” I said, thoughtfully.

“Do you know why?” whispered Esau.

I glanced at him, but did not answer.

“It’s because the chief’s afraid we shall go up yonder trying for gold.”

“And he does not trust us,” I said to myself, as I felt that Esau must be right; and the uncomfortable feeling of being suspected seemed to increase.

I was thinking about this a good deal, and had made up my mind to ask Mr Raydon if he thought I could be so dishonourable, when we neared the Fort, and I was startled back from my musings which were carrying me on through the interior, when Esau uttered a cheery hail.

“What’s the matter?” I said.

“Can’t you see? Look!” he cried.

“Gunson!” I exclaimed; and sure enough there he was, coming slowly towards us, looking very old and careworn, and as if he had gone through a great deal of trouble since we parted in the autumn.

“Why, my lad,” he cried, shaking hands with me warmly, “you look quite thin and white. Been ill?”

“Yes,” I said, as I grasped his hand warmly.

“Fever?”

“No,” I said, hesitatingly; “an accident.”

“Why don’t you tell him?” said Esau, sturdily. “I shot him.”

“You shot him?”

“Yes,” I said, quickly; “he let the rifle slip out of his hand somehow, and the ball hit me.”

“I’m not surprised,” cried Gunson, in a tone full of anger and contempt.

“Don’t say any more about it,” I cried. “It was an accident, and I’m getting better fast. Tell me about what you have been doing.”

Gunson laughed.

“Walking, wading in rivers, washing sand, climbing mountains, exposed to all sorts of weather, half-starved, half-frozen, and all to get the tempting gold.”

“No luck then?” said Esau, eagerly.

“Not a bit, my lad.”

“What, ain’t you found gold at all?”

“Oh, yes, in scores of places, but always where it would cost thirty shillings to earn a pound’s worth. Not profitable work, eh?”

Esau glanced at me, and I at Esau, the same thought in both our minds—that we could, in a couple of hours’ walk from where we were, show him—the wearied-out prospector—an ample supply.

“If I only could tell him,” I thought, as I recalled how generous and kind he had always been to us. But it was impossible, and I darted a look at Esau which he understood, for he nodded at me in a curious way, setting me thinking that I must speak to him seriously again about our duty to Mr Raydon. I had hardly thought this when I saw the latter coming towards us.

“Ah, Mr Gunson,” he said, with a sharp, keen glance, “you have kept your word, then, and come back.”

“Yes, I’ve come back, and shall be glad of a day or two’s rest.”

“You are welcome,” replied Mr Raydon. “Well, have you been very fortunate?”

“What a question to ask me!” said Gunson; “the most unlucky man that ever lived! Do I look fortunate?”

“No,” said Mr Raydon, smiling; “far from it. There, come up to my place, and let me hear what you have been doing.”

As we approached the strangers’ quarters, Quong made his appearance with his eyes twinkling.

“Plenty flesh tea,” he cried. “Plenty new blead.”

“Hullo, my Celestial friend,” said Gunson, smiling at the eager-looking little fellow. “Did you see me coming?”

“No. Not see. Gley tell me Mr Gunson come, and make tea dilectly, and cook bacon.”

“Ready to come on with me now, Quong?” said Gunson. “I’m going up the western part.”

Quong stared.

“What! Go away? No. Stop allee long here.”

“That’s right, my lad. Don’t leave good quarters. Been washing for gold lately?”

“Eh? Washee washee gole? Too much piecy make work. Cook along big meat. No go out at all. You likee likee flesh blead, not blead high.”

“Indeed, it will be a treat,” said Gunson, going into the place with Mr Raydon, while we kept back until he had finished his meal.

“I say,” said Esau, as we walked about the enclosure, “can’t little Quong tell fibseys.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” I replied. “Why, I’ve met him twice up the river trying for gold.”

“Oh. I’ve seen him lots of times. He gets away when he has done his work, looking as innocent as you please, and all the time he’s hunting for gold. I say, you see if Mr Raydon don’t keep an eye on us for fear we should tell old Gunson. My! wouldn’t he like to know of our find. I can’t understand how it is that he who knows all about it should be so unlucky, and you—”

“We,” I said.

“Well, we, then—should be so lucky, and find so much. Dunno, though; it hasn’t brought us much luck as yet.”

Back to IndexNext