"Yes. With Mr. Harrison. Will you take us?" and the youth turned to Gabe.
"Take you? Why, of course I will, and welcome. That's a fine idea, Mr. Crosby. The two boys and I will go prospecting for gold, and when we find a good claim we'll send for you. Let 'em go. It'll pay better than farming, take my word for it. We can start in a couple of days."
"Hurrah for the gold mines of Dizzy Gulch!" exclaimed Jed, grabbing Will by the hand, and jumping around the room. "That's the stuff! Let the crops fail, we'll dig a new one—a yellow one of gold nuggets!"
Never before, save, perhaps, when the lightning struck, had there been such excitement in the Crosby home. The farmer and his wife stared in amazement at the sight of their two sons doing a good imitation of a Highland fling, for Will had caught Jed's enthusiasm, and the two boys were singing and leaping about, "as if they were circus performers," as their mother said afterward.
"Come on, Nettie, have a waltz!" exclaimed Jed. "We'll send you back enough gold for a pair of earrings and a bracelet!"
"Jed! Jed!" exclaimed his mother. "Do behave yourself. You're not going to let them undertake that crazy plan, are you?" she asked of her husband.
Mr. Crosby did not answer. He, too, was thinking of the golden West, and his poor farm that hardly supported him.
"Of course we can go. Can't we, dad?" asked Jed. "Why, it will be the best thing that ever happened!"
"It will—if we get the gold," added his brother, more soberly, for his first enthusiasm had begun to cool.
"Find the gold? Of course we'll find the gold. Won't we, Mr. Harrison?"
"Well, I always have been pretty lucky," replied the miner. "I always got gold when I went after it, but I didn't always keep it. If I had the money the gambler swindled me out of I'd be in good shape now."
"Maybe that gambler your friend wrote about is the same one who swindled you," suggested Jed.
"No. I guess Con Morton knows enough to keep away from Ted Jordan. He's looking for him, too. But I'll come across Con some day, and then I'll wager I'll make him shell out what he stole from me. But, Mr. Crosby, seriously speaking, why can't these two boys go with me? It will do them good. As Jed says, you won't need them on the farm now, and they may strike it rich. Stranger things have happened."
"I don't know that I would object to having them go, in your company," said the farmer, "for I know they are good boys, and can take care of themselves. But I'm afraid I couldn't spare the money for railroad fares, and for the outfits."
"Don't let that worry you," advised Gabe.
"But it does worry me. You can't do anything in this world without money."
"It doesn't take much to get an outfit for a gold prospector," replied the miner. "For that matter I'll undertake to see that they get what they need. I have friends enough out there to make that part easy."
"But the railroad fares?"
"We won't need any railroad fares."
"How are you going to get out to that place with the queer name, then?" asked Mrs. Crosby.
"Dizzy Gulch, you mean? That is a queer name, but it's a good one. It makes you dizzy when you stand on the edge and look down. But we'll get there all right. It's not more than eight hundred miles from here."
"You can't walk that far," objected Nettie.
"I know that," replied the miner. "We could, but we don't want to. We'll go on horseback."
"Horseback?" repeated Jed.
"Yes. I've got money enough to purchase a good nag, and I guess your father would be willing for you boys to take the animals here. He'll not need them much longer. How about it, Mr. Crosby?"
The farmer looked thoughtful.
"You seem to get over most of the difficulties," he remarked.
"Then we can go, can't we, dad?" exclaimed Jed.
"I don't know. I must consider it further. I suppose you could take the horses. They'll only be eating their heads off in the barn, after the crops are in."
"That's the way I figured it," resumed Gabe. "Now I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll write to Ted and ask him to send me word where is the best place to strike for. Then I'll get my outfit together, such as there's left of it, look around for a horse that can travel a long distance, and we'll set out for the gold regions."
"That's the way to talk!" cried Jed. "We'll all be millionaires soon!"
"Now hold on!" remonstrated Gabe. "Don't get the idea that you can go out there and pick up gold off the ground. There are some places, I admit, where the nuggets are close to the surface, but they're few and far between. If we get any gold we'll probably have to dig for it, and digging for the yellow boys is as hard as cultivating corn or hoeing potatoes. I know, for I've tried both. But, at the same time, I don't see why we haven't as good a chance as lots of others. We'll try, anyhow—that is, if your father gives his consent."
"I suppose I might as well," said Mr. Crosby slowly. "You three seem to have it all planned out, anyhow. But I can't spare the horses for a week or two."
"That will be time enough," replied the miner. "I want to hear from Ted again." And there the conversation, for the time being, came to an end.
"It hardly seems possible; does it, Will?" asked Jed, when they were going to bed that night. "To think that we're going to become real gold miners!"
"Maybe we won't get any gold after all our trouble," suggested his less hopeful brother.
"Oh, cheer up!" advised Jed. "Wait until Gabe gets to grubbing around with that lucky pick of his, and the nuggets will just roll out, they'll be so glad we've come."
Will laughed. There was no withstanding the jolly good nature of his elder brother.
Enthusiasm for the proposed gold hunt had not waned the next day. Mr. Crosby had talked the matter over with his wife and, though she was naturally timid and nervous, she made no objections to letting the boys go. Mr. Harrison seemed quite confident that in the new diggings there was a good chance of making a moderate fortune.
"Then you can pay off the mortgage on the farm," said Mrs. Crosby to her husband.
"If the boys get money enough for that out of their gold mining, I think I'll give up farming, and become a prospector myself," said Mr. Crosby, with a smile.
Fortunately for the plan, the barley crop turned out better than any one expected, and the price was very high. Mr. Crosby received enough money to insure them against hardships that winter, and even enough to buy another horse, as he might need one if the boys took the two. He secured an animal at a low price. It was not as good as the two he had, but Jed and Will would have to have steeds that could stand a certain amount of hard life, if they were to go to the gold regions.
In the meanwhile Mr. Harrison had another letter from Ted Jordan, and this confirmed the first rumors of rich strikes. There was quite a rush of miners and others to the new fields, Jordan wrote, and he advised Gabe and the boys to hurry.
So, one morning, with their simple outfits on the saddles back of them, the boys and Gabe Harrison mounted their horses, and started off for the golden West.
"Don't you boys go to gambling," cautioned Mrs. Crosby, as she waved a farewell to her sons.
"Now, mother, you know they won't do that," said Nettie.
"I know it—but—but I—I just had to say something," replied her mother, as she tried to hide the tears that would persist in coming into her eyes.
"Look out for a bagful of gold nuggets!" called back Jed. "I'll send them by the first mail."
"All right," answered his father with a laugh. "Good luck, boys, and write when you get a chance."
"Good-by!" they chorused, and Gabe Harrison waved his broad-brimmed hat at the little group standing in front of the farmhouse. Soon they were out of sight down the road.
"It's—it's lonesome—without the boys," said Mrs. Crosby softly, as she went in the house and closed the door.
"How long do you think it will take us to get to the gold fields?" asked Jed, of the old miner, as they jogged forward.
"It's hard to say," was the answer. "You mustn't be in too much of a hurry. It's a good rule, in this business, to make haste slowly. You can't make a fortune gold-hunting in one day, and you've got to save your own strength, and that of your horse. A horse is a man's best friend in this country."
The route to the West had been carefully laid out by Mr. Harrison, who knew the land well. He had selected a line of march that, while it was not the shortest, would bring them to the Montana gold fields in good shape to start in at once with their prospecting.
For a week the travelers made fair time, stopping at night in various small towns, where living would be cheaper than in large cities, for their capital was limited. Nothing of note occurred, the weather was good, and Jed and Will began to think that gold hunting, or at least the preliminary part of it, was very much easier than farming.
"Say, I'd hate to go back now, cultivating corn in that hot field, wouldn't you?" Jed asked his brother one afternoon, as they were jogging slowly along.
"I certainly would, but I wouldn't mind now, if I had a drink of nice, cold switchel."
"Me either. You don't see any signs of a spring along the road anywhere, do you, Mr. Harrison?"
"No, and I wish I did, for the horses are pretty thirsty. But we ought to strike one soon."
"With all that, this is easier than farming," went on Jed.
"Don't be too sure of that," cautioned the old miner. "You haven't half begun yet."
And it was not long after this that Jed changed his mind about thinking it was easy to hunt for gold.
"That looks like a place where there was a spring," said Will, a little later, as they advanced around a turn in the road, and saw several horses, with men standing beside them, halted in the shade of a big tree.
"Guess you're right," admitted Gabe, "We're in luck."
It was a wayside spring, and the thirsty horses, scenting the water, hastened their pace. The gold-seekers found five men gathered around the drinking trough, into which the spring emptied through a wooden pipe. Four of the men were middle-aged, and one was quite young. They were all smoking, the older men using pipes, while the younger was rolling a cigarette with one hand, an operation at which he seemed quite adept.
"Howdy, strangers," greeted Mr. Harrison genially, as he alighted from his horse. "How's the water?"
"Nice and sweet," replied one of the men. "Come far?"
"We've done forty miles to-day."
"That's pretty good. Going far?"
"Montana."
"Montana?" exclaimed another man. "Why, that's where me and my pardner are bound. Going to the new fields?"
Mr. Harrison nodded. There was no object in concealing their destination, for they would soon be in the midst of the rush that always takes place when new gold fields are discovered.
"My name's Fred Hurd," went on the man who had last spoken. "This is my partner, John Curtin. We were in Nevada, but we went East to spend some of our money, and managed to get rid of most of it. Now we're going to new fields."
"My name's Gabe Harrison," said the old miner, and he introduced the two boys, in the hearty and easy fashion that prevails in the West. The other three men also told their names. They were Ade Bryant, the young man who smoked cigarettes, and Tim Walsh and Bill Case.
"Are you miners, too?" asked Jed, of the latter three.
"Nope," replied Ade Bryant, with a pleasant smile. "We just got rid of a bunch of steers, and we're going back to our ranch in Montana. My father owns it. It's the Diamond T Ranch," he went on, giving the name of the brand marked on all the cattle from that ranch. "Probably you've heard of it?"
The boys shook their heads. They had not heard much of outside matters in the quiet country village where they had lived nearly all their lives.
"Is your father Colonel Jack Bryant?" asked Gabe suddenly.
"That's him," replied the young man eagerly. "Do you know him?"
"No, but I've heard lots about him. There ain't a finer cattleman in these parts than Colonel Jack Bryant, and I'm glad to meet his son. Put her there, my boy!" and the old miner extended his hand to greet the young man.
When the horses had been watered and rested, the five men found that they were traveling in the same direction as was Gabe and the boys.
"Well, we'll keep company, if it's agreeable to you," proposed Mr. Hurd. "We've got plenty of grub, and we can camp together to-night."
"That suits me right down to the ground," replied Harrison, and the boys were also pleased to have company.
As the five men remounted, to continue their journey, Will noticed that Bill Case, the oldest of the cattlemen, was leading a small horse, tied by a long rope to the saddle horn of his own pony.
"Do you take turns riding those horses?" asked Will, for he was fond of animals, and a very good rider.
"No," replied Mr. Case, with a wink at his companions, which Will did not see, "that horse is a new one I bought. He's one of the fastest in this section, but the trouble is no one can ride him."
"Why not?" asked Will.
"Because he's got such a temper. Not exactly bad, you understand, but as soon as any one gets on his back, he doesn't do as a decent horse should, and carry his rider along the right way."
"I believe I could ride him," went on Will, who liked the looks of the steed.
"Are you much of a rider?" asked the man, and again he winked at his companions.
"Pretty fair," replied Will, who did not like to boast. The truth was, he was the best rider around Lockport, but he did not know what was in store for him from the innocent-looking animal that trailed along so meekly at the saddle horn of Bill Case.
"You can try this one, if you like," went on the cattleman. "I've no objection. In fact I'd like to see some one ride him. Maybe he'd be more valuable then. He needs training, but I can't seem to do anything with him."
The truth of the matter was that the horse was one of the very worst types of "bucking broncos." That is, whenever a person got on his back he would jump up into the air, and come down on four feet stiffly, almost jarring the rider out of the saddle. In fact he usually did jar him off, or, if he could not get rid of the man on his back in that way, he had other tricks as bad as bucking.
Bill Case had bought the horse at the town where he had been with his employer's cattle, and he was taking the animal back to the ranch, mainly to use in cowboy sports, for a bucking bronco is not much use as a riding steed. Bill had tried, unsuccessfully, to ride the steed, that was all right, and gentle, as long as no one tried to get on its back.
By this time Mr. Harrison and Jed were some distance ahead. They were interested in talking about gold strikes to the two miners, and had, with Hurd and Curtin, unconsciously drawn away from Will, and the three cattlemen.
"Will you let me try him?" asked the boy, as he looked at the horse. He knew nothing of bucking broncos, though he had read about them. Still, there was no way of telling one by merely looking at it.
"Sure thing," replied Mr. Case. "Here's a nice level stretch. You can try him here," and he stopped, and unfastened the long rope. At the same time he whispered to his companions: "Watch the fun now."
Will, all unaware of what was in store for him, dismounted from his own patient, plodding horse, and approached the bronco.
"Jump right on his back," advised Bill Case. "You don't need a saddle."
He knew that the moment a saddle touched the animal's back it would begin to buck, and that would give the "joke" away.
Will took hold of the animal's bridle, and patted the horse on the muzzle. Then, with a quick motion, he leaped on the bronco's back.
So suddenly was it done that the animal hardly knew what to make of it. On other occasions there had been a great fight to get a saddle on him, and this prepared him for what was to follow. But this was a new one on him. Still, he made up his mind, did that bronco, that he was not going to submit to the indignity of having a person on his back. He stood still a moment.
"Well done!" cried Bill. Then he added, in a lower tone: "Watch the fun now, boys!"
"Get up!" exclaimed Will, striking the bronco lightly on the flank.
Instantly something happened. Gathering himself together, as if he had wire springs in his legs, the bronco shot up into the air. Will was taken completely by surprise, but he managed to stay on. Then the horse came down stiffly, jarring the boy so that he thought he would shake to pieces.
But he did not fall off. Instinctively, he gripped his legs around the horse, and drew the reins tighter. The bronco was surprised. Usually one "buck" was enough to unseat any rider. He would try a new plan.
Suddenly he started off at a fast gallop. By this time Will knew he was in for it, but he was not going to give up. Gathering headway for another leap into the air, the animal rushed on toward where Mr. Harrison, Jed and the two miners were. Then, coming to a sudden stop, the animal launched himself upward. This time, when he came down stiffly, with his head between his fore legs, Will lost his grip. He was jarred off, and fell to the ground, his head striking heavily, and rendering him unconscious.
Attracted by the noise of Will's fall, and the sound of the bucking bronco, Mr. Harrison turned quickly. He leaped from his horse and hurried to where the lad was stretched out near the bronco. The steed, now that it had gotten rid of the person on his back, was quiet.
"What happened? What's the matter, Will?" asked Gabe.
"That bronco threw him," explained Mr. Hurd. "I just caught a glimpse of it. A nasty fall, too. Is he badly hurt?"
"There don't seem to be any bones broken," replied Mr. Harrison, as he began feeling of Will's arms and legs.
"Oh, Will! Are you killed?" cried Jed, jumping from the saddle and kneeling beside his brother.
At that moment the boy on the ground opened his eyes.
"Did I—did I stay on?" he asked, as he put his hand to his head.
"Not very long," replied Mr. Hurd. "How do you feel?"
"Somewhat dizzy. I guess I'm not hurt much."
"How did it happen?" asked Jed. "Where's your horse? How did you come to get on this one?"
"They said I couldn't ride him," explained Will, nodding in the direction of the cattlemen, who were slowly approaching.
"I thought so," murmured John Curtin. "It was a trick of that big cowboy. He knew this was a bucking bronco, yet he let this lad mount it, knowing the beast would throw him off."
"So, that's the kind of men they are, eh?" spoke Gabe Harrison. "Then I guess the less we have to do with them the better. Jed, you look after Will a bit. Get him some water. There's a spring just ahead."
"Where are you going?" asked Mr. Hurd of the old miner, as he saw him turn back on the trail, and walk toward the cattlemen.
"I'm going to have a talk with that big cowboy," replied Gabe.
Bill Case and his chum, Tim Walsh, were laughing heartily as Gabe approached.
"It's a good joke, isn't it?" asked Gabe sternly. "I suppose you think you did a smart thing, Bill Case, when you got that tenderfoot to ride that bucking bronco."
"He sure is a tenderfoot," replied the cowboy, who did not exactly catch Gabe's sarcasm.
"He wanted to ride," put in Tim Walsh.
"Well, if a baby wanted to play with a loaded gun, would you let him?" asked Gabe scornfully.
"How was I to know he didn't know the difference between a bucking bronco and a cow pony?" asked Bill Case.
"You knew well enough," declared Gabe. "I think it was a mean, cowardly act, and the sooner we part company, the better I'll like it. There's the trail. We'll wait until you get far enough ahead on it so we can't see your dust. I have no use for such fellows as you."
"Hold on there!" exclaimed Bill Case, an ugly look coming over his face. "Maybe you don't know who you're talking to."
"I know I'm talking to a coward who'll take advantage of a tenderfoot's ignorance to let him ride a dangerous horse," replied Gabe.
"Say, old man," began the cowboy, preparing to dismount from his horse, "me and you is going to have trouble, right now, unless you take back them words. Bill Case is a hard case when it comes to that, and I ain't used to such talk from nobody."
"Well, you'll listen to it from me," retorted the fearless miner. "I say you're a coward, and I'm not afraid of you."
In an instant the cowboy was off his steed and was striding toward the old man, who, nothing daunted, awaited his approach. Tim Walsh moved up closer, as if he, too, would take a hand in the affair.
Gabe looked back to where the two miners and Jed were taking care of Will. Mr. Hurd and Mr. Curtin were aware that something unusual was taking place, and they made ready to go to the aid of Gabe.
There was an ugly air about Bill Case, and he had the appearance of a man who would resort to desperate measures in a fight, such as now seemed imminent. Gabe was unarmed, having left his revolver and rifle in his saddle pack, but the cowboy wore in a belt two large revolvers. He made no motion to draw one, however, but, with clenched fists, strode closer to Gabe.
"Are you going to take back what you said about me?" he asked.
"No, I'm not," replied the old miner. "I'm not afraid of you, even if you are a hard case."
Bill raised his hand, as if to strike Gabe, but, at that instant, Ade Bryant, for whose father the two cattlemen worked, exclaimed:
"Don't, Bill. I'm sure dad wouldn't like it. Besides, you were in the wrong to let that boy ride that bronco, without telling him he bucked. Don't get into a fight."
"Well, of all things!" murmured Bill. "Am I going to stand still and be called a coward? I guess not!"
"Don't you hit him!" cried Ade. "It was your own fault, for trying to play a joke on a tenderfoot. I'm sorry it happened," the young cowboy went on to Gabe. "I shouldn't have allowed it. But I didn't think it would result so seriously. Is he much hurt?"
"No, just shaken up, I guess. But I'm glad you didn't really have a hand in this. I should hate to think Colonel Bryant's son would do such a thing."
"It was thoughtlessness," went on young Bryant. "I don't suppose you'll care to travel with us after this. We'll take the lower trail. Bill, go and get the bronco, and here's Will's horse," he added to Gabe Harrison. "Tell him I'm sorry it happened, and don't let him think we intended to injure him."
"I'm glad to hear you say so," responded Gabe. "I didn't think you looked like that kind of a lad. You're right; I guess there wouldn't be the best feelings if we traveled together."
He turned back to meet the two miners, to whom he explained matters, and then the three men returned to where Jed was caring for Will. The latter was speedily recovering.
"Was he going to show fight?" asked Mr. Hurd.
"He was, but he couldn't scare me," answered Gabe, as he explained the outcome of the interview. One of the miners led the bronco back to the cattlemen, receiving Will's horse in exchange, and then the three from the Diamond T Ranch turned off on another trail, and were soon lost to sight.
"Cowboys are all right," said Mr. Harrison, "but they're too much up to tricks to suit me. Hereafter, we'll be more careful who we travel with. How are you feeling, Will?"
"Pretty fair, now, Mr. Harrison, but that was certainly a shock to my system."
"Yes, a bucking bronco is about as bad a proposition as anything I want to tackle. I got fooled with one once, and later on I got kicked by a mule. I still prefer the mule."
"Suppose we stop here for grub?" proposed John Curtin. "That will give Will a chance to rest."
"Oh, I'm all right," protested the boy, who did not want to put others to trouble on his account.
"You're all right, except for what happened to you," remarked Jed, with just the suspicion of a smile. He had been quite alarmed at his brother's fall, but he was now relieved, when he found there was nothing serious the matter with him.
"Well, we'll stop here a few hours," decided Gabe. "Jed, if you'll make a fire, I'll get ready to fry some bacon."
"Say, I've eaten so much bacon lately," remarked Jed, "that I'm ashamed to look a pig in the face."
"Some fresh meat wouldn't go bad," added Fred Hurd.
"Well, maybe we can get some soon," said his partner. "We'll soon be in the elk country, and I don't see why we can't knock over a good fat buck."
"Do you think we'll have a chance to shoot such big game?" asked Jed, who had never hunted anything larger than foxes or rabbits.
"I'm pretty sure we will. I have hunted around here."
This was good news to the two boys. Mr. Harrison was not so much interested, as he was anxious to push on to the mines, but he well knew the camp larder could stand a little addition in the way of fresh meat, and he agreed to go hunting with the others.
It was two days after this, when, having traveled several miles further along the northwest trail, that Mr. Curtin announced that they might now get their rifles ready for elk, or any other big game that crossed their path.
The two boys had brought with them serviceable rifles, and they were fair shots. As they knew nothing of trailing after big game they had to be guided by the advice of the two mining partners.
It was decided, when they reached a good spot, they would establish a camp, and remain there a day or so, meanwhile hunting in the surrounding country. Gabe announced that he would stay in camp, and that afternoon, having found a suitable spot, a lean-to was erected, a fire built, and preparations made to stay there that night.
"In the morning we'll try our luck hunting," said Mr. Hurd.
Every one was up early, before the sun in fact, and all ate heartily of the breakfast which Gabe had prepared. The two boys, and the miners, leaving Mr. Harrison in camp, then set off in search of an elk or a deer, of which there were signs, according to Mr. Curtin.
They left their horses in camp, in charge of Gabe, since the hunting ground was in a wild region, stretches of woodland being interspersed with rocky tracks, over which a steed would find it dangerous to travel.
"Now, don't make any more noise than you can help," cautioned Mr. Curtin. "No use telling the elk we're coming. Have you your guns loaded?"
"Yes," replied Jed. "I'm afraid mine's a pretty light rifle, though, to stop an elk."
"A small bullet, in the right place, is just as good as a large one," replied Mr. Hurd. "Now, don't talk any more than is necessary."
They proceeded with caution for two or three miles, but their most careful observation failed to disclose any elk, or smaller deer. The two boys were beginning to feel a bit disappointed, as they had set their hearts on at least getting a shot at big game.
Another mile brought no results, though Mr. Hurd said the signs of elk were growing better.
"There's been a herd here in the last few days," he said. "A big one, too, by the looks of things."
"I guess they got word we were coming," remarked his partner. "They know we have two mighty hunters with us," and he glanced at the lads.
"I can only speak for myself," replied Jed, in low tones, which they all used. "I'm a crack shot, but my brother has hard work hitting the broadside of a barn door."
"I'll punch you for that, when we get back to camp!" exclaimed Will in a tense whisper.
"Hark!" suddenly exclaimed Mr. Curtin.
They were silent in an instant. Then, through the quiet woods, came a sound of underbrush being trampled under feet.
"Here's something coming," whispered Mr. Hurd. He raised his rifle in readiness, the others following his example. Hardly had they done so, ere, from the bushes, there stepped out a magnificent elk. It looked so big and imposing, as it stood there in the forest, that Jed and Will forgot that they were hunting and stood staring at the creature, that was so surprised at the sudden appearance of human beings on its preserves that it did not instantly flee from danger.
An instant later Mr. Hurd fired, and, at the same moment, the elk bounded off through the trees.
"Shoot, somebody!" cried the man who had fired. His companion's gun spoke, but too late.
"After him!" shouted Mr. Hurd. "I only wounded him. We've got to come up with him quickly, or he'll be miles away. But I think I crippled him. I don't want him to go off in the woods and die in misery."
Jed and Will were off on a run, their nimble legs carrying them ahead faster than did the limbs of the two miners.
"I see him!" cried Jed, as he caught a glimpse of the big creature through the trees. The elk had stopped to lick a wound on the left fore quarter, where the bullet had gone in and from which blood was flowing.
The elk heard the boys coming. Up went its head, and once more it was off like a shot. Just as it gathered itself for a leap, Jed fired. He heard the thud of the bullet, and knew he had sent it into a vital spot.
"Did you get him?" cried Will.
"I think so! Come on!"
Forward rushed the two brothers. They emerged into a little clearing, and, at the farther side of it, was a sight that caused Jed's heart to throb.
On the ground, kicking its last, was the big elk. His bullet had quickly put it out of its misery.
"Hurrah! You did it!" yelled Will.
"I told you I was a good shot," said Jed. "But if Mr. Hurd hadn't wounded it, I doubt very much if I could have killed it."
"Any luck, boys?" asked Mr. Curtin, as he and his partner emerged from the woods into the little clearing. "I should say so!" he exclaimed a moment later, as he saw the big elk on the ground. "Who did it?"
"Jed did," answered Will, proud of his brother's success. "I'll get the next one, though."
"I don't believe we'd better hunt any more," spoke Mr. Hurd. "We have more meat now than we can eat, and it would only be wasteful to kill more game. We're not on a hunting excursion. You shall have a chance later, Will."
"All right," was the answer, though the boy could not help feeling a little disappointed at not having an opportunity to kill some big game. But he saw the force of the miner's reasoning.
"We'll take the best part of this back to camp," said Mr. Hurd. "I'll cut it up, as I understand such things."
"Can I have the horns?" asked Jed.
"Of course, but you'll have a hard job carting them out to the mines with you. I'd leave 'em here. You can get a pair on your way back East."
Jed decided this was good advice, though the antlers were a fine pair, and he hated to leave them.
Laden with choice pieces of the elk meat, the four hunters returned to camp, where they found Gabe peacefully smoking his pipe. In a little while they were sitting down to a meal of elk steaks, while recounting the adventures of the day.
It was so pleasant in camp, that, as the horses were a trifle tired with the journey so far, especially those from the farm, for they were not used to going so steadily, it was decided to remain there a few days. In that time Jed and Will went out hunting again, and this time luck was with the younger brother, for he bowled over a fine buck deer.
"Well," remarked Gabe one morning, when they had finished breakfast, "I don't know how you folks feel about it, but I seem to want to be getting on toward the gold mines. I'm afraid Ted Jordan and his crowd will get all the nuggets."
"Yes, I guess we've had an easy time long enough," admitted Mr. Hurd. "We'll travel on a bit further with you, if you don't mind, Mr. Harrison. I don't just know where me and my partner will begin to prospect yet. Maybe we'll go to Dizzy Gulch."
"Come along," invited Gabe heartily. "I reckon there's room for all, and I'm sure me and the boys are glad of your company."
"That's what we are," said Jed, and Will agreed with him.
So, having struck camp, they placed their packs on their horses, and, having smoked some of the elk and deer meat for future use, they set off.
They were now getting into the mountain region, and it was not as easy traveling as it had been. The way became rougher and wilder, and the horses, especially those of Jed, Will and Mr. Harrison, felt the pace very much.
"Guess you don't find this much easier than cultivating corn, do you?" asked the old miner one day, after a particularly hard bit of travel up a mountain side, and an equally difficult passage down the corresponding slope.
"It isn't as easy as I thought it was," admitted Jed. "Still, it's more exciting. Farming is pretty dull."
"Oh, you haven't begun to see excitement yet," put in Mr. Hurd. "Wait until you get to the new diggings, where the miners and gamblers are congregated."
"Speaking of gamblers reminds me that I wish I could set eyes on Con Morton," said Mr. Harrison. "The more I get to thinking of how he swindled me out of the biggest part of my fortune, the angrier I am."
"Do you think you'll ever see him again?" asked Jed.
"I certainly hope so. I shouldn't be surprised if he was out at the new diggings. He generally hustles to where the miners have plenty of money for him to swindle them out of. Once I get sight of him——"
Mr. Harrison did not finish, but the look on his face showed it would not be good for Con Morton if the old miner met him.
When the travelers got down into the valley, after climbing one chain of mountains, they found their further progress barred by a swift stream.
"Shall we ford it, or travel toward the head, where it isn't so wide?" asked Mr. Hurd.
"I'm in favor of crossing here," returned Gabe. "We've lost considerable time as it is, and I don't fancy going fifty or a hundred miles out of my way because of a brook."
"This is a pretty good-sized brook," said Mr. Curtin. "It looks dangerous. Suppose we wait until morning?"
It was then getting dusk, and they were anxious to make camp.
"Never stop on the near side of a stream, when night is coming on, is my motto," went on Gabe. "Can't tell but there'll be a big rain in the night, and the stream will be so risen that it will delay us a week. No, let's cross now, and camp on the other side. If it's too deep for wading, the horses can swim it."
They prepared to follow his advice. Their camp outfits were tightly tied in water-proof bags, and securely fastened to the saddles of the steeds. When this had been done it was quite dark, but they thought the crossing of the stream would not take long, so they urged the rather unwilling beasts into the water.
The horses proceeded cautiously, stepping slowly. Suddenly the animal on which rode the old miner got beyond its depth, and the next instant was swimming.
"No ford here," cried Gabe. "Look out for yourselves, everybody! Don't lean too far forward so's the horses' heads will go under. Hold your guns over your heads."
By this time the five horses were swimming for the other side of the stream, with the travelers on their backs. As they advanced the current became swifter and stronger. What had seemed like an ordinary mountain river was a dangerous one.
For some reason Jed's horse seemed to be headed more down stream than did any of its companions. Gabe noticed this and called:
"Head him up this way, Jed. It sounds like rapids below there, and maybe there's a waterfall."
Jed tried to, but it is no easy matter to guide a horse in the water, especially when the animal is frightened. In vain did the lad tug at the reins. The horse was now swimming right down the middle of the river.
An instant later, as the stream made a bend, Jed could look ahead through the fast-gathering darkness. The river was a mass of white foam.
"The rapids!" he cried. "I'm in the rapids!"
Almost as he spoke his horse was stumbling over stones and boulders in the shallow part of the stream, where the waters lashed themselves into foam as they rushed over the rocky bed.
Gabe heard the boy's cry. He realized what it meant to be caught in such a place in a dangerous stream.
"Head on to the other side!" he shouted to his companions. "Here, Will, take my gun! I'm going to help Jed!"
Then, having handed over his weapon, the brave old miner turned his horse's head down stream. By this time Jed and his animal were in the midst of the swirling waters. The horse was stumbling and slipping, several times almost losing its footing, but recovering it after a desperate struggle. It was growing darker, and Jed feared his animal would slip into some deep pool where both would be drowned.
"I'm coming, Jed! I'm coming!" cried Gabe. "Stick it out as long as you can."
His horse was now on the edge of the rapids. The steed snorted with terror, fearful of venturing into the mass of foam and waves. Just ahead of him Gabe could see the boy, who was striving to guide his horse toward the bank for which they had started.
Then, with a snort, as if making the best of a bad bargain, Gabe's horse ceased swimming and began to struggle, as had Jed's animal, to retain its footing on the uncertain bed of the stream.
The current was so swift that both animals were carried along without much effort on their part. Vainly they tried to brace back, and, under the urging of their riders, to work over toward the farther shore.
Just as Gabe reached Jed's side, the latter's horse stepped on a round stone, floundered about in a desperate endeavor to keep its footing, and then, with a whinny of terror, it went down, carrying the boy with it.
"Jump off!" yelled Gabe. "Don't get tangled in the stirrups or bridle!"
It is doubtful if Jed heard him, so great was the noise of the rushing water, but, instinctively, the boy followed this advice. As soon as he felt the horse falling, he kicked his feet free from the stirrups, and, throwing one leg over the saddle, leaped off, holding his precious rifle high above his head. The horse, with the pack on the saddle, was swept on down the river.
"Grab my horse's tail, or get hold of the stirrup!" yelled Gabe. "I'm going to try and turn him toward shore!"
The advice came just in time. Jed, who was slipping and stumbling along, with the water up to his shoulders, managed to grasp the left stirrup leather.
"Give me your gun!" called the miner, and the boy held it up.
Then, fortunately, Gabe's horse managed to get a footing on a comparatively smooth place, where the river was not so deep. The miner held the steed there a moment, to give Jed a chance to get a better hold.
"I'm going to head him toward the shore," the old miner said, after a moment's pause. "Hold on tight now. It may be deeper as we go to the side."
It was, and Jed found himself swept off his feet in an instant. However, Gabe's horse was a strong swimmer, and managed to make some headway, diagonally against the current. It was a hard struggle against the powerful stream, but at length the steed managed to get beyond the pull of the rapids, and into a shallow place close to shore.
"I can stand up, now," said Jed, as he let his feet down, and touched bottom. "I'm all right. Go ahead!"
An instant later Gabe's horse scrambled up the bank, and the boy followed.
"I guess my horse is gone!" he cried. The loss was a serious one to him, for all his possessions were on the saddle, in the pack.
"Maybe he'll go ashore lower down," said Gabe. "We'll have to look. Hello!" he shouted, wishing to attract the attention of the others. Back came a yell.
"That's Will's voice," declared Jed. "They're coming down this way."
So it proved, and a little while later the two miners, and Will, having safely crossed the stream, joined Gabe and Jed. They were all more or less wet, but none had had the misfortune that attended Jed.
"We'll have a look for your horse," said the old miner to Jed. "Will, suppose you build a fire, and Mr. Curtin and Mr. Hurd will help make camp. Jed and I will see if we can't find that contrary nag. If he'd been content to swim straight across, instead of wanting to shoot the rapids, we'd have been all right."
"Suppose he's on the other side of the river?" suggested Will.
"Hold on!" exclaimed Jed with a laugh. "Don't go to suggesting such things now, Will. I've had trouble enough."
In the darkness Jed and the miner set off down the stream. It broadened out as it flowed on, the banks stretching away into level plains.
"There's something moving, straight ahead!" exclaimed the boy, pointing to where a darker blotch of blackness was visible in the night.
"Yes, and it's a horse grazing. I hope it's yours," spoke Gabe.
"I can't see any pack on its back," went on Jed, as they came nearer.
"Must be a horse from some camp then."
They came nearer. The horse ceased grazing and looked at them curiously.
"Hey, Pete!" called Jed, for he had been riding the old cultivator horse that once ran away. At the sound of his voice the animal whinnied.
"That's Pete, but where's the pack?" inquired Jed. "I hope it didn't get lost in the river."
"No, it's there, but it's slipped around on his side," replied Gabe, as he came closer and saw what had happened. The saddle girths had slipped, and the pack, though soaking wet, was intact. Pete allowed himself to be caught without difficulty. Probably he had had enough of adventures for one night. He was led back to the camp, where a big fire was burning. Here the gold hunters dried themselves, and were soon partaking of a bountiful meal.
"This beats farming all to pieces!" declared Jed, with his mouth half full of some broiled elk meat.
"Even getting into the rapids?" asked his brother.
"Sure. After the first scare was over, it was like being back in the old swimming hole at our creek. The water was nice and warm."
"Yes, it's quite hot to-night," observed Mr. Hurd. "I shouldn't be surprised if we got a thunder storm."
"Then we'd better rig up some sort of a shelter," advised Gabe.
This was done, a lean-to being built with branches, and their rubber blankets spread on top, and well fastened down. Jed's pack had been opened out to dry, and when the horses had been safely tethered, and the camp made as snug as possible for the night, the travelers stretched out to sleep, tired out with the day's travel.
It was hot, entirely too hot for that time of year, and it was almost stifling under the improvised shelter. Still, after vainly wishing it would cool off, Jed and Will, with their older companions, fell asleep.
Jed had a vivid dream that night. He thought he was again in the rapids, and that his horse was pulling him into a deep hole of the stream. So vivid was it that he awoke with a start, to find himself in water, while something seemed wrapped about his neck, dragging him forward.
"What's the matter?" he cried.
"Fierce storm!" replied Gabe. "Our lean-to has blown away, and it's raining cats and dogs!"
An instant later there came an intensely bright flash of lightning, and a peal of thunder that seemed to shake the ground.
Confusion reigned in the camp. The storm had come up with such suddenness that no one had been aware of it. Every one had been sleeping soundly, after a hard day, and the first intimation of the outburst of the elements was when the deluge of rain came, and the lean-to was blown over.
"Somebody catch me!" cried Jed, who, wrapped up as he was, in several rubber blankets, was being blown along like a ship under sail.
Will grabbed his brother, and helped to unwrap the coverings. While he was doing this the lightning seemed to be constant, and the roar of thunder was like the firing of heavy guns.
"Whew! This is fierce!" cried Jed, when he got his breath. The horses were huddled together, trying to find some shelter from the pelting rain beneath the trees.
"Fierce?" repeated old Gabe. "How about farming now? This rain beats the one when the cow was killed."
"That's right!" exclaimed Will. "Can't we get under some shelter?"
Hardly had he spoken when, with a terrific crash, lightning struck a tree not far away. The shock stunned the travelers for a few seconds.
"We're safer in the open," said Mr. Hurd. "We'd better get out of this grove," and he moved out of the shelter of the clump of trees where the camp had been pitched.
The rain then seemed to come down harder than ever. It wet them through, and the rubber blankets, which they grabbed up from the wreck of the lean-to, afforded small protection from the pelting downpour.
"I guess you wish you were back in the snug farmhouse, don't you, boys?" called Mr. Harrison above the roar of the storm.
"I do," replied Will, frankly.
"Oh, I can stand it," answered Jed. "We may get worse than this."
"That's right, my boy," added Mr. Curtin. "This is a bad storm, but there's lots of worse things in the gold fields where you're going. Bad men are worse than bad storms."
"Right you are," murmured Gabe. "But if I'm not mistaken, this seems to be letting up a bit."
The rain did not appear to be coming down quite so hard, and there were longer pauses between the flashes of lightning. But if the storm did cease in its violence, it did not stop altogether, for it rained all night, and, though the travelers did manage to make a rude sort of shelter of the blankets, they spent several miserable hours until morning.
"Oh, for some hot coffee and crisp bacon!" exclaimed Will, as he crawled out from under his blanket, and surveyed the wet scene all about. "It wouldn't be so bad then."
"Hot coffee! Crisp bacon!" exclaimed Gabe. "Say, young man, you ought to be glad the sun is shining. There'll be no hot coffee this morning. Wood's too wet to make a fire. Cold grub for ours, until noon, when we may strike a place where we can get some dry tinder. But the sun will soon make our clothes look less as if we'd paid a visit to the washwoman. Up, everybody, and straighten out camp!"
No one cared to linger in the wet blankets, and though it was not a very cheerful company that gathered around to eat a cold breakfast, they all felt that matters might have been much worse.
The packs were soon strapped on the horses, and, mounting their steeds, the travelers set off again. On every side were evidences of the storm. The river they had crossed was swollen to twice its former size, and they were glad that they had forded it the previous evening, instead of delaying, as they would have been held up several days waiting for the flood to subside.
That noon they arrived at a settler's cabin, where they were made welcome, and glad enough they were of it, too, for they were doubtful about finding any dry wood to make a fire, and had the prospect of a cold dinner before them. The settler, who had a small sheep ranch, greeted them cordially, and set out before them the best that he had. However, hot coffee was the most desirable thing he could provide.
From this man Gabe made some inquiries as to the best road to follow, for they were now approaching the gold fields, and they wanted to know the nearest trail to Dizzy Gulch.
"It's not far now," said the old miner to his companions, after a talk with the sheep-herder. "Three days more ought to bring us there."
"Then for the golden nuggets!" exclaimed Jed. "I hope we can send some back to dad soon."
"Don't be too hopeful," cautioned Will, with his usual ability for looking on the dark side of things.
"Yes, I'm going to be hopeful," responded Jed. "Half the fun of a thing is looking forward to it, and I'm going to imagine that I'm going to pick up plenty of the yellow boys. Then, if I'm disappointed, I've had the satisfaction of some good thinking, anyhow."
"That's the right idea," declared Gabe.
They remained that night at the sheep-herder's cabin, and in the morning pressed forward again. The weather was fine after the storm, and that night they camped amid the mountains, near a trail that showed it was well traveled.
"Hark! What's that!" exclaimed Will, in the middle of the night, as he was awakened by hearing voices, and a noise of horses traveling over the rocky path, not far from where they had pitched their camp.
"Sounds like a lot of men," observed Jed.
"It is," replied Gabe, who had also been awakened by the talk of the boys. "They're miners, too," he added, after listening a moment. "They're on their way to new diggings. Boys, we're near our destination. This is where the main trail strikes in. The rush is on, and we're only just in time!"
In the morning, when they started forward, they found they were only one party among a number. The rush was indeed on, and two days later the two boys and their companions were on the edge of the gold fields of Montana, and Dizzy Gulch, of which Ted Jordan had written, was less than a hundred miles away.
Had the boys not been told by their companions, during their journey, of what they might expect in a new gold field, they would have been much surprised by the scenes which met their eyes on every side. They arrived at a small settlement that night. It rejoiced in the rather thrilling name of Bloody Canyon, but as one of the storekeepers there remarked, it was not half as bloody as it had been.
"For you see, strangers," he said, pushing his big, broad-brimmed hat as far back on his head as it would go, "there was a powerful lot of shooting-up around these diggings for the past few weeks. Lots of 'em was killed, and the rest lit out for new strikes, so we old settlers has it sort of peaceful now."
"How long have you been here?" asked Gabe.
"Me? Oh, nigh on to a month. I'm one of the oldest settlers. My store was one of the first started, next to the bank," and he waved his hand toward a couple of rough board structures, that showed signs of having been hastily erected.
"How about the strikes at Dizzy Gulch?" asked Mr. Hurd.
"I don't take much stock in 'em myself," replied the "oldest settler," who gave his name as Tom Judson. "Bloody Canyon is good enough for me. I've got a couple of nice claims staked out, and I've struck pay dirt."
At that moment there was the sound of several pistol shots.
"What's that?" asked Jed, looking around.
"Now take it easy! Take it easy, son," advised Mr. Judson. "That's probably only a gambler being rustled out of camp."
"Gamblers? Are there gamblers here?" asked Gabe.
"Gamblers? Well, I should swallow my grub-stake!" exclaimed the genial Mr. Judson, who seemed given to violent expressions. "We was overrun with 'em one spell. Shot two, hung one, and rid a dozen more out of camp on a rail, with a coat of tar and feathers. But they still pester us occasional like."
"Did one named Con Morton show up around here?" asked the old miner.
"Con Morton? No, I don't recollect any such high-sounding name as that. But you never can tell. They go by any name that suits their fancy, them gamblers."
"I'd like to see that Morton," murmured Gabe.
"Why for would you like to meet up with him?" asked Mr. Judson. "If you're looking for a straight gambling game I can show you one. I'm the United States marshal for these diggings, and I don't stand for no crooked work."
"No, thank you, I had enough of gambling," replied Gabe. "That Morton fellow swindled me out of a fortune, and I'd like a chance to get it back."
"Too bad, stranger," replied the marshal, "but I don't believe you have much show. Them gamblers is pretty tricky. There, I guess they must be shooting up another one," he added quickly, as more pistol shots were heard.
The disturbance, whatever it was, did not last long, and though the two boys looked about anxiously, fearing the fight might turn in their direction, they saw nothing alarming, and the mining camp soon became quiet again.
"Was you-all thinking of striking out for Dizzy Gulch?" asked Mr. Judson.
"Myself and these two boys are," replied Gabe. "I can't say what my two companions are going to do," and he looked at the miners who had traveled with them for several days.
"I think we'll strike further south," said Mr. Hurd. "I don't like the winters in Montana, and we'll soon be having cold weather. California suits me better. My partner and I will look for a place to stay. Maybe we'll see you in the morning, before you start out. If we don't, we're glad to have met you, and we've enjoyed your company very much."
"We sure have," added Mr. Curtin.
"Same here," added Gabe. "We'd like first-rate for you two to come with us, but if you feel the call the other way, don't let us stop you."
Inquiring of the marshal where was the best place to stay over night, and being directed to what passed for a hotel in the little settlement, Gabe and the boys made their way there. Mr. Curtin and Mr. Hurd met some former associates, and went off with them, so the little party was separated.
In spite of a few shooting affrays during the night, there was not much disturbance in Bloody Canyon. Mr. Judson had spoken truly when he said a large part of the population had left for other diggings, and midnight, which is usually the most exciting time in a mining settlement, was so quiet that the boys and Gabe were able to go to sleep.
"Well, it feels good to sit down to a table again," remarked Jed the next morning, when they were having breakfast in the "hotel."
"Make the most of it," said Gabe. "We'll soon be striking out on a new trail, and we'll have to camp out again."
"Don't you think it would be better to have a tent?" proposed Will.
"I certainly do, and I'm going to get one," replied Gabe. "I've got to get some other supplies, too—blasting powder, a new handle for my lucky pickaxe, and some grub. This is the cheapest place to get 'em, as prices will be high near good diggings."
Most of that day was spent in getting the tent and other supplies. It was so late when they finished that Gabe decided they would stay another night in the hotel at Bloody Canyon, and push forward in the morning.
That evening, as the three were strolling down the main and only street of the town, a couple of men, who came from a saloon, approached Gabe and the two boys.
"Excuse us, strangers," said one. "But is it true you are going prospecting up at Dizzy Gulch?"
"We calc'late on it," replied Gabe civilly, though the manner of the man was insolent.
"Well, that's a pretty good joke!" exclaimed the other stranger, laughing heartily.
"What is?" asked Gabe, for he was sensitive about being made fun of.
"Going to Dizzy Gulch? Why, you're foolish to go there. It's petered out. There was only some outcroppings, and the boys that went there had their trouble for their pains."
"I have reliable information that there have been some good strikes made at Dizzy Gulch," responded Gabe, while Jed and Will wondered what could be the object of the two men in ridiculing their plan.
"Well, you're foolish, that's all I've got to say," went on the man who had first spoken. "Ha! ha! It's a good joke. You'll be asking some one to grub-stake you next! Eh, Jim?"
"Sure thing! Dizzy Gulch didn't pan out!"
"I guess I know my own business best," responded Gabe.
"Oh, that's all right, stranger," responded one of the men quickly, for Gabe's manner was rather one of anger. "No offense, you understand, only I have to laugh when I see an old-timer making a spectacle of himself."
"It'll be time enough for you to talk when I make a clean-up, and don't get a yellow showing," went on Gabe. "Come on, boys. They may think it's a joke, but I guess Ted Jordan knew what he was writing about."
Leaving the two miners, who, with several companions, seemed to be quite amused at the idea of Gabe and the two lads going to Dizzy Gulch, the latter reached their boarding place.
As they entered the barroom, which was the only way to get into the place, they saw it was well filled with men who were standing about, drinking. Several of them were talking loudly, and the conversation ran to topics connected with cards and mines.
At the entrance of Gabe and the two lads, several of the men glanced at them.
"Hi! Here's some strangers that haven't had a drink with me!" exclaimed a man, much the worse for liquor. "Step right up, strangers, and name your poison! Set 'em up, Bill. Give my unknown friends the best in the house."
"Don't have anything to do with him," advised Gabe in a low voice.
The man, however, walked up to Jed, and, placing his hand familiarly on the lad's shoulder said:
"Come on up, youngster, and have a drink with old Ned Haverhill! I like your looks! Name your poison!"
"Thank you," said Jed, quietly, "but I don't drink."
There was a moment of silence. The boy's remark seemed to be a novelty in that place.
"What's that?" cried Haverhill, as if he had not heard aright.
"I don't drink, thank you," said Jed again.
"Not drink! What! Not when Ned Haverhill asks you! Why, dynamite and copper-heads! You've got to drink! What! Why, what do you think of that?" and he turned to the men lined up in front of the bar.
There were anxious faces in the saloon then, and several men quietly made their way to the door. For Ned Haverhill was known as one of the worst men of the West, and to annoy him, especially in his present condition, was no small matter. He looked at Jed with bloodshot eyes, but the lad quietly returned the stare. Old Gabe, with a worried look, drew nearer to the lad whom he considered under his protection.