The Boy Miners

CHAPTER IV.

There was a strong attraction which drew George Inwood toward the golden sands of California, to which we have not even hinted thus far; but it is high time it received notice.

Several years before, when the young student had just entered college, he was descending the Hudson in the ill-fated Henry Clay. On board, he formed the acquaintance of the most engaging young lady he had ever met. Intellectual, vivacious and accomplished, he felt strengthened mentally and morally when he left her presence—a condition far different from that in which one is sure to vacate the society of nine-tenths of the fashionable women of the present time.

A mutual interest sprang up between the two, and everything was progressing delightfully toward a tenderer state of feeling, when that well-remembered calamity burst upon the doomed steamer. In the confusion and tumult, Inwood, who was an excellent swimmer, became the means of saving Miss Marian Underwood and her father from death by drowning.

There can be but little doubt of the result of all this, had matters been left to take their natural course, but Inwood had just entered college, and the next tidings that reached him relating to the Underwoods was, that the father, who was quite wealthy, had removed to California, and settled quite a distance to the south of San Francisco. After deliberating a long time upon the matter, he addressed a respectful but friendly letter to Marian, and then anxiously awaited the reply; but it never came, and, concluding that her hand was pre-engaged, he did not repeat the experiment, and did his best to forget her.

Absorbed in his studies and preparations for his sacred calling, he succeeded, not in forgetting her, but in preventing her occupying his thoughts so prominently, although this would have been impossible, had he known that the letter so carefully written had never reached its intended destination, and that the fair Miss Underwood often wondered and as often sighed that he did not seem to deem her worth the trouble of a letter.

But now that Inwood’s attention was drawn toward California, the image of this lady constantly rose before him, and he found himself speculating, at all times of day, regarding her. The great question was, whether there was “room” for him in her thoughts—that is, the room which he wished—that which should exclude everything else. He resolved to find out her residence, and make her a call—his subsequent course regarding her to be determined by the reception he received, and her manner toward him.

The voyage to Aspinwall was without incident worthy of mention, as was the trip across the isthmus on the new railroad, which had been finished a little over three years. The journey was an unceasing delight to Edwin, who was just of that age when everything seen and heard make such a weird impression upon the mind. The broad, surging Atlantic, the vessels which skimmed like sea-gulls along the horizon’s edge, the glimpse of the tropical islands, the majesty of the storm, the exuberant vegetation of the isthmus; these, and hundreds of other sights, made up a continual banquet for him upon which the eye could feast and never become sated.

Captain Romaine presented each of them with through tickets to San Francisco, so as to be sure of their reaching their destination without further expense.

They waited several days at Panama for the steamer which was to carry them the rest of the way, and when they went on board, found themselves greatly crowded for room, and obliged to undergo much privation in the way of food; but they were as able to bear it as were the rest of the passengers, and were none the worse, when, on a bright morning in early spring, they landed in San Francisco.

The first step was to secure temporary lodgings, which was done without difficulty, and then, while Jim sat on the low porch in front of their “hotel,” and smoked his pipe, George and Edwin wandered over the new city. The curiosity of both was, perhaps, equal, and the day passed rapidly away in gazing at this wonderful giant which sprang so suddenly into full grown manhood.

By making careful inquiries, George learned that Mr. Underwood was settled to the south some fifty or sixty miles, and was one of the wealthiest land-owners and stock-raisers in that section—which was anything but pleasant information to Inwood, who would have much preferred to hear that they were in destitute circumstances—in order that he might call upon them, and feel himself upon something like equal terms. The information, indeed, seemed to make our young friend reconsider his decision of calling upon the Underwoods until he returned from the mines laden with wealth, when he could have no hesitation in doing so.

Perhaps, if he passed within the immediate vicinity of Underwood’s ranche, as some of the people termed it, he might seek occasion to get a glimpse or peep at Marian—but nothing in the world should induce him to do more.

George Inwood had about a hundred dollars—not enough to procure him the outfit he needed. He had brought three rifles, three revolvers, and some cooking utensils with him; but he still needed digging and mining implements, cloth for tents—to say nothing of a horse apiece, and one or two mules to carry their luggage.

As a matter of course, it was out of the question to think of procuring these; and, as the best that could be done under the circumstances, he bought a rickety old mule, capable of carrying all that could be piled upon his back, and going like a clock when wound up, without retarding or increasing his speed, and disposed to walk straight over a precipice, if it happened to be in his way, unless he was gradually shied off by Jim Tubbs placing his shoulder against his, and forcing him to swerve from his course.

“Dat are beast’ll carry all we’ve got to carry, ’cept ourselves, an’ if thar’s only room for us to get on, he’d carry us too,” remarked the negro, when everything was ready, and they were about to start.

“Yes; he will answer for our luggage.”

“And must we walk?” inquired Edwin in dismay.

“I do not see how it is to be prevented,” replied his brother, as cheerfully as he could speak.

“Why don’t you buy free hosses?” inquired Jim.

“For the reason that I have not the funds to do it with. I haven’t enough money left to buy the poorest animal, in the shape of a horse, that walks the streets of San Francisco.”

“If you hain’t, mebbe somebody else has.”

“What do you mean?” inquired Inwood, in perplexity.

Ah! wasn’t that a moment of triumph for Jim Tubbs? How cool and deliberate he tried to be, as he shoved his great hand away down in his pantaloons pocket, until it looked as if he were fumbling at his shoe string, and finally fished up a huge leathern purse, so corpulent that it had very much the appearance of that humble kitchen edible known as the dough-nut.

“Dar!” he said, as he flung it carelessly toward the amazed George Inwood, “mebbe dar ain’t nofin’ in dat! Mebbe dat’s all counterfeit; mebbe Mr. Tubbs hain’t been sabin’ up his money dese five years! ’Spose you look at dat—p’raps dar may be sumfin’ or other in dar.”

Jim leaned back against the column of the porch, cocked his old wool hat on one side of his head, shoved both hands down into his pockets, carelessly swung one foot around the ankle of the other, so that it was supported on the toe, and then, smoking his little black pipe, looked at Inwood, as he opened the purse and counted out the yellow gold pieces one after the other, until he had finished.

“How much do you make?” asked Jim, in the same style that he would have inquired the time of day.

“Four hundred and seventy dollars. Is this all yours, Jim?” inquired Inwood, hardly comprehending the pleasant truth.

“Shouldn’t wonder now if I had sumfin’ to say ’bout it.”

The three withdrew to a more private place, where the money was again counted, and it was found to amount to the sum mentioned. Jim explained how he had been engaged in saving for the last five years, as he had an idea that there would come some “’casion” like this. He was shrewd enough to keep its existence a profound secret until the crisis in their affairs, well knowing that Inwood would have considered that moment of necessity as at hand long before.

And so the three horses were purchased, and a number of articles which they needed, and, leaving San Francisco, they took a southeast direction toward San Jose and continuing on in the same course, struck a pass in the Coast Range near the 37th parallel.

By this time, they were far beyond the limits of civilization, and traveling in a wild, savage country, where they occasionally met emigrants and miners, but more frequently encountered red men and wild beasts.

California then, as now, was rapidly filling up, but among the mountains were thousands of miles where the foot of white men had never trod, and where, beyond question, the auriferous particles lay in glittering masses, only waiting for the spade of the miner, or the rock-splitting powder of the blaster.

Before reaching the regions of the mountains, Inwood made careful inquiries, and learned that the residence of the Underwoods lay but a small distance from San Jose, and that, by a slight deviation from his course, he could take it in his path. He did so, neither his brother nor the astute African entertaining the slightest suspicions of the true object which drew him thither.

They caught sight of the large Mexican-looking building, with its low roof, broad wings and extensive outbuildings, its vast droves of cattle and sheep, which were scattered here and there over an area of many miles; all these signs of the thrift and wealth of the owner, and it was with strange emotions that Inwood halted on a small eminence a short distance away, and gazed down upon the pleasant scene.

He saw no signs of life about the house. Here and there were to be seen one or two men passing hither and thither, over the hills or among the cattle, but the house itself was as still as death, and the thought once occurred to his mind that, perhaps, the proprietor lay cold and inanimate within those shaded rooms, or, perhaps, Marian herself was stretched in the robes of the tomb.

Jim proposed that they should honor the proprietor of this estate by spending the evening with him, but Inwood objected, and they encamped in an adjoining piece of wood. When everything had been made ready for the night, and the full moon had risen, Inwood left his companions, and sauntered toward the house, his heart throbbing tumultuously with its varied emotions.

As he walked slowly by, he caught the faint notes of the guitar, and heard a low, sweet voice humming a familiar song. He looked in the direction whence it came, and, through the interlacing vines, could faintly detect the form and outline of Marian Underwood. He knew it was her—he recognized the voice, and twice he paused and was about to enter the gate; but he checked himself by a painful effort of the will, and, loitering as long as he dared in the vicinity, he turned on his heel and wandered back.

“When I return, I will call!” was the comforting conclusion he gave himself.

In a few days, by patient traveling and perseverance, they reached the eastern slope of the Coast Range, and found themselves in the San Joaquin Valley, where they intended to prosecute their search for gold. Carrying out their purpose of getting into a region where there was little danger of being disturbed by any of their own race, they followed the slope to the southward, keeping among the mountains, and guarding every movement.

They “prospected” a long time, and suffered at first for want of food, but they soon overcame this difficulty, and prosecuted their search for gold with greater vigor than ever. They had poor fortune for awhile, but they pushed resolutely forward, and finally came upon a small mountain stream, which contained an abundance of the shining particles among its sands.

Here they would have pitched their tent, had they not accidentally discovered a remarkable cave, which answered their purpose so well, that they carried everything within, and at once made it their quarters. Their horses were tethered in a dense grove further down the stream, where they were visited once a day to see that all was well.

They had been here but a few days, when they discovered signs of Indians, and Edwin was put on watch, while the others busied themselves in “making hay while the sun shone.” The young sentinel had been there but a short time, when he descried the troublesome visitors approaching along the slope; and what then and there took place our good readers have already learned.

CHAPTER V.

The cave which afforded such an opportune retreat to Jim Tubbs and the Inwoods, was one of these natural formations which are occasionally found, and which have more the appearance of being the handiwork of some skillful architect than of nature.

A narrow passage, sufficient to admit an ordinary sized man, extended about thirty feet, when it opened into a broad chamber, which was lighted by several thin rents in the rocks overhead, they being so massive as to exclude all hope of ingress from that direction. The only disadvantage connected with this subterranean dwelling was, that during rainy weather, it required extreme care to prevent its being flooded. Occasionally, they were driven out in this manner; but there being a lower portion of the mountain close at hand, the water thus gathered, almost as speedily filtrated through the rocks into the outlet.

When George Inwood made his reconnoisance, after the departure of the Mohave Indians, he was confident of finding some of them dead, or desperately wounded; but, to his surprise, he discovered neither. He was rather pleased at this; for he had never slain a human being, and his teaching and tastes were utterly opposed to it. He more than expected that, ere he saw San Francisco again, he would be compelled to slay some of the troublesome aborigines in self-defense, but, until absolutely compelled so to do, he had resolved to abstain from it altogether.

“De next thing, I s’pose, am whedder dem hosses are wisible or inwisible. I ’clines to tink dey’re inwisible,” remarked Jim, when informed that the red men had taken their final departure.

“They have been undisturbed,” replied Inwood. “I took a look at them before I came in.”

“Bless de good Lord for dat; I hopes dey will let dem animals be; for if dey tucks ’em away, we’ll hab a mighty hard road to trabbel to get back agin—carrying dem big piles ob gold.”

“Ah, Jim, we haven’t got that gold yet——”

“But ain’t we getting it, eh? I s’pose I didn’t get a pocketful dis berry arternoon, did I?” he demanded indignantly.

“We have comparatively a small quantity, and there’s no telling when that will give out.”

“I tink it’s gibbin’ out all de time, an’ if it only keeps on gibbin’ out long ’nough, we’ll soon get all we want.”

“I hope we may, but I very much doubt it; and come to think, I believe we have nothing for supper. How is that?”

“You’re right—not ’nough to feed a ’skeeter.”

“You ought to have done some fishing for us, Edwin.”

“I would, if you hadn’t put me in the tree, and set me to watching for the Indians.”

“Dat is so,” assented Jim, quite emphatically, “couldn’t watch a fish at de same time. We’ll have to go widout supper, an’ den make up when we get de chance agin; dat’s de way I ginerally fixes it. I can go a week widout eatin’ anything, but I tells you Jim Tubbs ’gins to feel holler, an’ he makes meat fly when he git de chance.”

“We can then wait until morning.”

By this time, it was completely dark in the cave. The three conversed together awhile longer, and then Jim, having finished his pipe, arose and said:

“I tinks I takes a look at de hosses.”

“You had better remain where you are. They are all right, and you may get yourself into trouble.”

“Ain’t afeerd; who can git me into trouble? Jus’ let me try de gold trick on ’em, an’ dey’ll be glad ’nough to cl’ar de track.”

“You haven’t told us what that gold trick is.”

“You’ll hab to wait now till I come back,” said Jim, as he knocked the ashes from his pipe, “takes some time to ’xplainify de science ob dat movement.”

With which information, he made his way to the mouth of the cavern, accompanied by George Inwood, who gave him a parting admonition.

“Be very careful, for some of these dogs may be loitering around, and waiting for the chance to cut you off.”

“I’ll be keerful, ob course; look out for yourselves, an’ don’t let anybody in till you knows who he am. Some ob dem darkeys may try dere tricks on you, an’ you can’t be too keerful.”

“You needn’t be afraid of my getting careless; you’re the one who needs the most advice.”

“O, I always keeps dark,” laughed the African, with which profound witticism, he turned the corner of the cave and disappeared. Inwood waited awhile at the opening of the passage, listening and watching, but only the murmur of the brook caught his ear, and he could see nothing but the dark wall of bank which shut out his view beyond, and above these, in the clear sky, floated the full moon. The hour and the surroundings were impressive, and he remained a long time in a kneeling position, lifting up his heart in silent communion with the only One who then saw and heard him.

When he returned, he found his younger brother somewhat apprehensive at his continued absence.

“If the Indians should come down upon us when we are separated,” said Edwin, “I don’t think we would get off as well as we did to-day.”

“No; if we hadn’t this cave to retreat to, we should have seen trouble. As it is, I am a little anxious about Jim.”

“He is careless, but he has been very fortunate. I never saw anything so strange as that which happened to him when we were coming through the mountains. Don’t you think that was strange, George?”

“Very Providential, indeed, although I did not see it myself.”

“I did; he was only a little ways ahead of us, riding along on his horse, when those two Indians sprang out from behind the trees, not more than twenty yards off, aimed both their guns straight at him, fired, and then run away.”

“And never harmed him?”

“Never touched him; he said he heard both bullets whistle past his ears.”

“It was very singular, but not unaccountable. His color and his size are such as to startle these superstitious people, and, no doubt, when these two aimed at him, their nerves were very unsteady, and to this alone their failure is to be attributed.”

“Then he has been in danger several times since we have been here, and was scratched a little this afternoon—so he told me—but he hasn’t been really hurt.”

“He is great help to us. I don’t know what we could do without him. He can do more work in a day than I can in a week, and he has got to be a good shot, too. We must arrange that, however, so that you can do the hunting for food, while we do the hunting for gold.”

“I am ready to begin at any time, and have wondered why you haven’t set me at work before,” said Edwin, with great animation, at the prospect of a day’s ramble through the woods.

“It is with some misgiving, as it is, that I consent to this step. Remember you are very young, Edwin, and there is a great deal of danger for an old hunter in this part of the country.”

“Not if he is careful, and you know I would be careful. I shall always keep a sharp look out for grizzly bears.”

“They are dangerous enough, but not so dangerous as the red men.”

“But don’t you think they are easily scared?”

“That may all be, and yet, it isn’t to be supposed that they would be much frightened at the sight of a youngster tramping through the woods with a gun on his shoulder.”

“I will not wander off beyond call.”

“You must remember that; for if you get lost, I don’t know how you would ever find your way back again.”

“I should follow up the stream.”

“But do you suppose this is the only stream in the mountains? There are hundreds of such, and you would be a great deal more likely to get upon the wrong than upon the right one. I mention these facts, because I wish to impress upon you the great necessity of being careful. Boys are very seldom inclined to be thoughtful, and you are no exception to the general rule.”

Edwin repeated his resolve to take good heed of what he did, and appealed to his record since coming into California in support of his actions.

“Yes; I am glad to say that you have, but I sometimes tremble to think of what we have done.”

“You ain’t sorry, George?”

“No; but I am frightened almost. Just to think that we are entirely cut off from the civilized world, and it is known to these Indians that we are here.”

“But they can’t harm us.”

“Suppose they took it into their heads to root us out, what is to hinder them? They could soon starve us to terms, and then do as they pleased with us.”

“You seem gloomy to-night, brother.”

“No; I do not mean to be so—I wish you to understand truly our situation.”

“I am sure I do—but isn’t Jim gone a long time?”

“Hark!”

Faintly through the still night air came the far-off exclamation:

“Hold on dar! hold on dar! or I’ll come de gold trick ober you!”

CHAPTER VI.

When Jim Tubbs issued from his subterranean domicile, he was rather too strongly inclined to act upon the report of Inwood, that is, it had been affirmed that there was no visible danger; he believed there was none, and, accordingly, he started straight for the tethering ground of the horses and mule, to make sure that they had suffered no disturbance from the marauding Mohaves.

“Dat are place whar we put ’em, is de place dat I selected, an’ dar’s no danger ob dere being troubled while dey stay dar,” he muttered, as he walked rapidly along, occasionally pausing to make sure that no one was following him.

“I always understood hosses,” he added, as he approached the vicinity of the dense undergrowth. “Dar ain’t many——”

He paused with unutterable emotion as he drew the bushes aside, and there, where they should have been, he saw them not! For a moment he was completely stupefied, and stood like one who, from the tangled web of a dream, endeavors to form the skein of coherent thought.

But he speedily recovered himself, and was sharp enough to comprehend that the animals must have been abstracted very recently, and were within the possibility of recovery. With a muttering exclamation of impatience, he dashed headlong through the bushes into the open space beyond, and stared around. Being at the base of the mountains, he was also on the edge of a broad valley, and the bright moonlight gave him quite an extended view over the broken, rocky country.

It required but one sharp glance of the African to discover, about a quarter of a mile distant, the three horses and one mule, making their way among the boulders and patches of broken land, with all the deliberation with which they would have answered the call to work. Jim paused long enough to see that no one was driving them, when, uttering the exclamation which has been given at the close of the last chapter, he started on a full run after them.

With his usual thoughtlessness, he had come out without his gun, and he was now running at his utmost speed, entirely regardless of his personal danger from the hubbub he was creating, and from withdrawing so far from his base of operations. There was something so singular in the spectacle of these four animals leisurely trotting off over the country, that he ought to have hesitated and attempted to explain the matter before venturing after them in this open, boisterous manner.

It was observable, too, that, immediately after Jim gave the terrific outcry referred to, the slow trot of the animals increased to quite a brisk gait, a thing so unusual on the part of the mule, as to cause no little wonder upon the part of the pursuer.

“Beats all natur’!” he exclaimed, as he struck his foot against a stone, and was almost thrown forward upon his hands and knees. “Fust time I ebber seed dat ole mule raise a trot; split two, free rocks ober his head, smashed all de limbs off a big tree ober his back, but no use, couldn’t get him off a walk, an’ dere he goes now swingin’ ’long like a feller on stilts. Beats all natur’!”

It was indeed so curious, that he paused to take a look at them. Just at that moment they were ascending a small swell; and, as they came in relief against the blue sky beyond, they were as plainly visible as at noon day. It was clear that none of them had a rider upon his back, nor was any one following, except him who was trying so valiantly to recapture them. What then was the explanation of this singular movement?

Jim, who had suddenly resumed his running, as suddenly paused, for he had discovered something.

“Wal, dere! if dat don’t beat eberything! dar’s an Ingin right in among dem hosses, or else dat switch-tailed mare has got six legs—one or t’oder!”

It would have required a good pair of eyes to notice this curious fact, had not the mare referred to at that moment fallen somewhat in the rear, when the singular addition to her means of locomotion made the usually large eyes of the African considerably larger.

The fact was apparent that a red man was among the quadrupeds, and inciting them to their rapid gait by some outlandish means which seems to come natural to the aborigines, and which, up to this time, had escaped the attention of the pursuer.

Immediately upon this discovery, Jim broke into a fiercer gait than ever after the fugitives, shouting in his tremendous style—

“Drop dat hoss, I tell you! drop that hoss, or I’ll make you!”

Inasmuch as it was hardly possible for the marauder to hold up one of the equine specimens, if he choose to tumble, it was not exactly clear how he was to obey this command. On the contrary, the animals, including the mule, (which, having once got up a loping trot, didn’t exactly comprehend how to stop it,) increased their speed, and the indescribable whirring howl with which he accomplished it, reached the ears of the exasperated pursuer.

“O, if I only had a gun!” he muttered, as he jogged along, “wouldn’t I pepper dem legs for him!”

At this juncture, the ground assumed a rougher character, and the animals were compelled to deviate to the left to pass a canon, where the waters raged with such fury, that the shrewd Mohave did not attempt to force them into it. Observing this, Jim took the hypotenuse of the triangle, and went sailing down the course in magnificent style, gaining so rapidly, that he gave utterance to a joyous shout.

“Cl’ar de track! or I’ll run ober you! I’s comin’!”

This startling intelligence did not have the effect expected and the copper-colored gentleman evidently concluded that all was not lost, for he still maintained his position between the two horses, and, just then, striking a fording place, he tumbled them turbulently in, and, scrambling up the opposite side, renewed the flight in the same admirable fashion.

“Dat ’ere beats all natur’!” he exclaimed in absolute amazement, as he witnessed the exploit. “Whoeber dreamed dare was so much go in dat mule?”

The chase by this time had become interesting; but, if the Mohave had displayed some natural smartness in stampeding the animals, he now found himself at fault so far as regarded the mule; for this character, as he rattled down the canon with a noise like the charge of cavalry, lost his unnatural gait, and, finding himself back into his natural one, it was impossible to change it under a furlong, seeing which, the charging body dashed forward with such a burst of speed, that the Mohave and his body-guard were compelled to leave him behind. Five minutes later, Jim vaulted like an avalanche upon the saw-like back of the mule.

“Now, ole fellow,” said he, addressing the beast most affectionately, “show ’em what you can do.”

But the mule didn’t seem anxious to obey; for, although his enthusiastic rider thumped his sides with his huge heels until he nearly bounced off, the beast subsided into a moderate walk, as if he didn’t exactly comprehend the meaning of all this uproar upon his back, and all efforts to change his gait was useless. A man in a great hurry has very little patience, and it took but a little while for Jim’s to exhaust itself.

“You want de gold trick comed on you—dat’s what you do, an’ you jes’ wait till I get you home.”

Sliding off the serrated animal, he left him alone, and resumed the chase with greater vigor than ever. The few minutes’ halt which he had made, were precious moments to the Mohave, who, still keeping his body invisible, had improved them to the utmost; but the roughness of the ground was against him, and the African gained rapidly.

“Ye’d better drop dem hosses while you got de chance!” he shouted, as he came sweeping down with great velocity. A few minutes later, he observed a diminution in the speed of the horses, and finally they walked, and then stood still.

“You oughter s’rendered sooner, den I might been ’sposed to show you some mercy; but I don’t know—hullo! where be you?”

He might well ask the question, for, as he came in among the horses, there was nothing to be seen of the aborigine—he had taken the occasion quietly to slip away, when he found himself compelled to relinquish his prize.

Jim stared all around, but could see nothing of him he sought, and concluded, under the circumstances, it was best to make his way back as speedily as possible.

“I tinks I’ve run ’nough to ’arn a ride,” he reflected, as he put himself astride the back of his own horse, and turned his head homeward; “an’, as dat darkey ain’t anywhere’s about, I won’t wait for him.”

When the nature of the ground would permit, he put the horses on a good swinging gallop, and, in a short time, encountered the mule walking leisurely toward him. Before this obstinate animal could be induced to take the right direction, Jim was obliged to get off his horse, and press his shoulder against that of the mule, until he had described a half circle, when he came round right, and was left to go without any other direction.

The rider exercised himself awhile in endeavoring to get him off his walk, but he speedily gave that over as useless, and rode ahead, well aware that so long as he kept a linear direction, the long-eared animal would eventually come up with him.

It was not long before he struck the canon, but at a point where it looked unsafe to cross. Believing himself above the place he had forded, he turned down its bank in quest of it; but, after going fully a mile, discovered his mistake, and was about turning back, when he caught a glimpse of a broad sheet of water, and suspected at once that here was a lake into which the stream flowed. As the roaring, compressed canon must end here, he kept steadily on, and soon halted at the view of a scene so beautiful and enchanting, that his untutored mind was filled with admiration.

The canon suddenly spread out into a broad rapid stream, which flowed into a lake of about a half mile in diameter. Under the bright moonlight, it had the appearance of “liquid silver”—an expression by no means original, but so literally truthful, that we can use no other—and in the still summer night there was not a ripple upon its surface. In the center rose a small island, so abruptly, that, covered as it was with vegetation, it had the appearance of a bouquet, and would have reminded a traveler of the famous Lakes of Killarney.

Jim noticed that the opposite shore was rocky and fringed with trees, and the lake appeared to stand on the edge of a large wood.

“Dat ’ere is nice!” was his reflection, as, from the back of his horse, he looked out upon the fairy-like scene. “What a good place dat would be for George to build a house. I tink we could run a bridge ’cross to de land, or hab a ferryboat to run atween it an’ de shore.”

“Hullo! dere goes sombody,” he added, as he saw a canoe put out from the shore to his right, and head toward the island. The full moon had now sunk toward the horizon, so that the shadow of the trees and island were thrown far out upon the lake; and, as the single Indian who impelled the canoe, issued from the broad band of darkness which lay along the shore, every motion of his dusky, muscular arms was plainly seen. He managed his oar with such skill, that his body never seemed to incline a hair’s breadth to the right or left. The flash of the paddle seemed born of the paddle itself, as he held the point in the water, instead of coming from his hand, as the tail of a fish is sometimes seen to move in the water, when its body remains motionless. The canoe sped forward without the least sound, but instead of halting at the island, Jim observed that it passed behind it, and immediately disappeared.

The African now drove his horses into the water, and crossed without difficulty. As he came out, he halted a moment to take a last view of the little gem which rose from the lake. The first glance nearly frightened him out of his wits; for, on the nearest point, he saw a thin, waving, arrowy point of light rise to the height of five or six feet, and then vibrate back and forth, as though held by a hand which oscillated from right to left.

While he sat amazed, a second flame, precisely similar, arose from another point of the island, and then another, and another, until fully half a dozen were visible, every one issuing from that portion of the island which touched the edge of the water. It was indeed a small representation of what Magellan, the great circumnavigator, saw in 1520, when he sailed by Terra del Fuego.

“I tinks it’s ’bout time Mr. Tubbs left dese parts,” chattered Jim, as, with a shiver of horror, he started his horses homeward.

CHAPTER VII.

Jim had gone but a short distance, when, still fascinated by his great terror, he reined up his horses and looked back at the moonlit lake and the little island in its center. Could he believe his eyes? Yes; it was moving. He saw it slowly float toward the wood, until, unable to control his excessive fear, he once more gave the rein to his animal, and did not pause until he was far beyond sight of the lake and its Enchanted Island.

The negro rode a considerable distance, when, as objects around him began to wear a singular look, he drew his animals down to a walk, and, on the edge of a rocky grove of small trees, came to a dead halt.

“Dis yere looks strange! I disremember dese trees; Ise afeerd Mr. Tubbs is off de track, an’ how is he gwine to git on agin, am de question.”

The country through which he was journeying, was a broad valley, interspersed with streams and canons, trees and open spaces, and huge boulders piled promiscuously here and there, and in some places so thickly strewn as to become almost impassable. There were acres where one could gallop as free as upon the beaten road, and then, for the same distance, it was the utmost that a horseman could do to pick his way along.

In the hurried manner in which Jim had made headway across the desolate tract, it was not to be supposed that he entertained a very vivid recollection of the landmarks; but he had quite a memory of places, and after he had rested his animal for a few moments, he became certain that he was lost. Under these circumstances, his only resource was to fall back on general principles, and take the course which he believed would eventually lead him to the neighborhood of the cave.

By carefully studying the position of the moon, he believed he was going too much to the south, and, turning to the right, he followed this course at a slow walk, watching carefully for some landmarks which could be recognized. Discovering none, and it being well on toward midnight, he checked his horses, with the intention of waiting until morning.

Jim was pretty tired, and, tying the horses together, he lay down on the ground beside a rock, and in a few moments was asleep. He was undisturbed until daylight, when he was awakened in a manner which brought a howl of terror from him.

Some crushing weight descended upon his foot, and, starting up, he gazed about him for the cause. It proved nothing less than the baggage mule so frequently referred to, which, in journeying straight forward in the path which he had been started upon, had thus come directly upon the sleeping African.

“What!” he shouted, placing himself directly in front of the animal, and checking him in the same manner that a wall of rock would have done. “Dat ’ere is queer!” he laughed, “dat I put myself right afore you. Shouldn’t wonder now if you was on de right track; leastways we’ll try you.”

The mule was fired up, and, as it moved on again, the negro followed on the back of his own horse. To his great surprise and gratification, he had gone but a short distance when he caught sight of a small clump of trees which he recognized as a point passed by him shortly after he had started in pursuit of the Mohave and his prey.

He was highly pleased at this, and pressing on until he had reached the grove, became convinced that he was on the right track, and would rejoin his friends in the course of an hour. Beyond this spot all was familiar, and he advanced without hesitation or misgiving. Reaching the point where their animals had been tethered, he drove them in among the trees, and, first securing them, started out in quest of his friends.

Jim had walked but a few yards, when it suddenly occurred to him, as he recalled the previous night’s experience, that there might be danger in advancing so openly to the cave. It was a very easy matter for a party of aborigines to conceal themselves along the banks, and rush upon and secure him before he could help himself.

It struck him, too, as he approached the cave, that an unnatural stillness reigned around it. The sun was now up, and it was high time that his friends were bestirring themselves. A vague fear took possession of the African, as he halted some rods away, and looked furtively about him. Everything was so quiet—nothing moving except the stream, and that made scarcely a ripple as it glided over its sandy bed.

Jim was standing in this apprehensive state when a slight noise in the rear startled him. Turning his alarmed gaze, he expected to behold a whole troop of painted red men about to swoop down upon him; but, in the place of that, recognized the smiling face of young Edwin Inwood.

“Bress me, but you scart dis chile dat time!” said Jim, his teeth fairly chattering at the remembrance of his shock.

“I threw a stone to let you know I was near; I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“It wasn’t de stone dat scart me, it was de thought dat I tink it was sumfin’ else. Whar’s George?”

“Inside the cave.”

“Had breakfast?”

“No; we were just going to prepare it. Here he comes!”

At this moment, George Inwood made his appearance above ground, and he greeted the negro with great gladness. The latter soon gave an account of his pursuit and capture of the horses, and his safe return with them.

“You have done very well, Jim, especially when we remember that you had no gun with you. There are few men who would have dared to do so, even when fully armed.”

“But, dat ain’t all,” added the colored man, as he heaved a great sigh, “I seen de most awfulest ting you ever heard tell on.”

In answer to their anxious inquiry, he gave what has already been given by us, winding up with the declaration:

“An’ when I looked back de last time, what do you ’spose I seen? Why, I seen dat island rise up, flap its wings, an’ fly away!”

“There, Jim, that’s a little too much,” laughed the elder Inwood.

“When it flapped its wings, didn’t it also crow?” asked Edwin, whose interest in the narrative was turned into equally intense amusement at this culmination.

“You folks can laugh,” retorted Jim, indignantly, “but wait till you see what I did, an’ de shivers will run all ober you.”

“It may be possible that it was a mirage,” said George, somewhat impressed by the earnest manner of his sable friend.

“A mirage by moonlight?” inquired Edwin.

“Such things have been heard of, I believe, although very rarely.”

“What’s a mirage?” demanded Jim.

By great perseverance, George succeeded in giving Jim a sort of an idea of what he meant, although, in all probability, he would have regarded the mirage itself equally mysterious and wonderful as the bodily exit of a bona fide island before his eyes.

“All I got to say is, you jes’ go an’ see it, an’ den you’ll stop laughing at dem as what undertakes to explanify it to you.”

“Perhaps we shall have the opportunity, as I have concluded to leave these quarters.”

“What fur?”

“In the first place, our safety demands it. The Indians have found out we are here, and they will hover about and watch us, until some time they will pounce down upon us before we know it.”

“What ob dat? Didn’t they do it last ebening?”

“Yes; and Providentially we were able to drive them off; but you can see that if a hundred of them should come down here, they could keep us in the cave until we died of thirst or starvation, or were compelled to surrender, and our end in each case would be the same.”

“But we hadn’t orter leave de gold jus’ as we ’gin to find it.”

“We shall leave a very small quantity of it behind. The supply has about run out. You remember that we had a small lot yesterday. The reason was that we had gathered about all there was, and so you see there is nothing to keep us here, while we have every inducement to draw us away.”

As this was undoubtedly the case, there was no gainsaying the argument of Inwood, and it was decided to move their quarters without further delay. Breakfast was prepared, during which Edwin took his station and kept a sharp watch for straggling Indians. None were discovered, and he descended and joined them in the morning meal. Their baggage was piled on the mule, the five tiny sacks which contained the yellow dust, were taken in charge by George, and while it was yet early in the day, they took up the line of march.

Very appropriately, Jim led the way, he riding his nag with all the dignity of a conqueror at the head of his army. Inwood was not so particularly anxious to see the Enchanted Island, as he was to make sure that no Mohaves were following or watching them. The most vigilant scrutiny failed to detect any of the dreaded creatures, and our friends finally ventured to believe that with due prudence they could reach a place of safety.

It was past noon, when Jim, who was riding a short distance in advance, ascended a small elevation, and then suddenly made a signal for his companions to hurry alongside of him. The next moment the three were side by side.

“Dere!” said Jim, pointing off to the east, “is de lake an’ de island.”

The beautiful, circular sheet of water lay a half mile away, and right in the center was an island about fifty feet in length, and half that distance in breadth. It was covered with young trees and dense vegetation, and in the bright sunlight had a cool, fresh appearance, which made it still more pleasant than when viewed under the witching rays of the moon.

George Inwood produced a small spy-glass from his pocket, and scanned it long and narrowly. There was something about this little island, aside from the marvellous stories related of it by Jim, which awakened his curiosity. While apparently still and devoid of life, he saw signs which convinced him that more than one person was upon it.

In among the leaves he could detect a fluttering, tremulous motion, and around the edge of the island were ripples which must have been caused by human hands, as the surface of the lake in every other portion was as smooth as a mirror. He thought he heard once or twice a plashing sound, which came either from the island itself, or from directly behind it. He decided to say nothing of his suspicions until he had learned more of it, what certainly wore a singular look, to say the least.

He was on the point of lowering his glass, when a slight movement among the bushes on the eastern shore of the lake caught his eye, and he immediately directed his gaze toward that point.

The naked vision would have discovered nothing, but by the aid of the lens he discovered a man standing on the very edge of the wood, and scrutinizing the party. At first glance, he took him to be an Indian, but a continued examination satisfied Inwood that the stranger was a white man, dressed and painted as a red man. What gave this impression was the fact that his outfit was not complete, being deficient about his head. This, instead of being bare, with the long, wiry black hair stained and ornamented with eagle feathers, (as is the custom of the Mohaves and Apaches) was surmounted by a slouched hat which entirely concealed the short hair.

The painted white man gazed long and intently upon the party, from which fact Inwood judged that he was displeased at their appearance and anxious to keep himself invisible. This, united with the curious facts noted regarding the appearance of the island, furnished food for speculation, and Inwood lowered his glass and placed it away with the conviction that there was some mystery connected with this lake and the tiny island resting in the center, which, perhaps, it might be well for him to attempt to fathom.

“What you tink ob him?” inquired Jim, much wondering at the continued silence of Inwood.

“It is the finest scene I have ever looked upon. Nothing could be more beautiful than the lake, and the island, and the green shores which surround, and the white mountain peaks away in the distance.”

“Wait till you see it fly away—den I guess you tink it beautifuller yet.”

“I am afraid I shall have to wait a good while,” said Inwood.

“Shall we go on?” inquired Edwin.

“I rather like the appearance of the country around here, and I think we are as likely to find gold as in any other place. We will hunt up some good spot, take up our quarters, and go to prospecting. The best plan, I think, is for us to turn square around and start back again.”

“What dat for?”

Edwin, too, looked an inquiry, but George said he had a good reason, and accordingly it was done.

CHAPTER VIII.

CHAPTER IX.

Inwood laughed at the look of his sable friend, as he gazed about him, as if he did not understand the meaning of all this.

“Where is your man?” he asked.

“Gracious! I don’t know; wonder if I didn’t mash him down into de ground,” he said, stepping to one side and reviewing the huge footprints which he had made in the sod. “He ain’t dere! wonder where he went?”

“I suspect he hasn’t been there at all. You must have been mistaken, Jim. Are there any other footprints?”

After strict search they failed to find any, and Inwood was satisfied of Jim’s mistake, although the latter was loth to admit it.

“Now,” said Inwood, “I am going to find out all I can about matters and things. If you choose you can go home, or you can remain here.”

“If it’s all de same to you, I tinks I’ll retire,” said Jim, displaying considerable eagerness to get out of the immediate neighborhood. Inwood watched him until he disappeared from view as he went crouching among the rocks and hills back to his hiding place.

It was now near nightfall, and our young friend deemed it best to make himself invisible until he could reconnoitre with safety in the darkness. In this wild, rocky country, it was easy to find a secure hiding place, and this he did, first satisfying himself that he was not watched in his manœuvres.

Night finally descended upon mountain and lake, and when it was fully dark, Inwood crept cautiously forth, and approached the edge of the water. The moon did not rise until late, and he was sure that if any sentinel was on guard, he had not detected his approach. He had come upon the lake at a point several hundred yards removed from the point where the canon debouched into it, and he sat down for a few moments to meditate upon the best thing to do.

As he sat and listened, he was sure he heard a faint rippling out upon the lake near the point where he could just make out the dark outlines of the island looming up in the distance; but the gloom prevented his discovering anything more. Behind and around him was darkness, and in that solemn moment, George Inwood (naturally devout and thoughtful) lifted up his heart to the great Being above the stars, and sat for a time in blissful communion, such as the men of the world can never know.

He felt that this was a strange undertaking upon which he was about to venture, and, with the simplicity of a child, he asked that he might do that only which was right, and that he and those with him might be protected to the end.

He concluded, after fully deliberating upon the matter, to remove his clothing, and swim out to the island. By this means he could examine it silently and thoroughly, and with more safety than if he remained on shore waiting for a suitable opportunity.

His clothing was rolled into a bundle, and placed in a niche among the rocks, after which he took his bearings to make sure of no difficulty in recovering them. This done, he waded carefully out, immediately rushing above his head into the chilly waters. The first shock over, the lake felt cool and pleasant, and he struck out slowly and easily toward the island.

As he neared the place which had created such wonder, he slowed his strokes, until he barely moved through the water, while he kept his eyes and ears open. Nothing suspicious rewarded his vigilance, and he was on the point of advancing more rapidly, when he detected the outlines of a man standing on the very edge of the island nearest him.

Inwood was so close that at first he was sure he had been discovered; but, as the stranger gave no evidence of suspecting anything, he slowly backed water, and gradually worked his way round to the opposite side. Here he dallied awhile, until seeing nothing alarming, he began making his way in.

But again, at this very juncture, he caught the glimmer of a light, heard the suppressed murmur of a voice, followed by a gentle plashing. The next moment he made the startling discovery that, while he was not approaching the island, it was approaching him. An indescribable thrill ran through him, and he understood the feeling which Jim had expressed; but his own sense forbade any faltering, and he concluded to wait for the “mountain to come to Mohamet.”

A moment later he touched the edge of the island, and then learned that instead of earth, his hands were resting against logs, and that they extended several feet below the surface.

“I have learned one thing,” was the reflection of Inwood, “this Enchanted Island rests upon logs, and isn’t much more than a skilfully covered raft.”

But the question still remained, as to what it all meant. What earthly reason could there be for a floating island in the midst of a lonely lake? There was some object beyond all question, and he resolved, if possible, to ascertain it for himself.

As he floated along with the island, he heard the grating of poles upon the bottom of the lake, and it was therefore easy to comprehend the means of locomotion. Shortly after he detected shadowy forms passing to and fro, as they busied themselves in shoving the craft along. The phantom like appearance of things was increased by the silence with which these men worked. As yet, he had not heard a whisper exchanged between them.

Inwood right speedily appreciated the delicately dangerous position in which he was placed. One of the raftmen, as he drove his pole down into the water, just missed driving it into his crown, but he was an excellent swimmer, and he relied upon his skill in the perilous feature which this adventure was putting on.

“The old thing moves rather heavy!” finally remarked one of the men, in a gruff voice.

“Yes,” was the response, “it acts as if the logs were becoming water-soaked. I’ve noticed for the last day or two that it seems to have sunk a few inches.”

“I s’pose maybe it’s carrying a pretty good load.”

This remark seemed to contain some hidden meaning which pleased the fancy of the others, for they all indulged in a quiet laugh.

These words, as a matter of course, were overheard by Inwood, who was puzzled more and more to understand their meaning; but the men did not seem to take up a train of remarks calculated to enlighten him. They plied the unwieldy craft for a few minutes longer in silence, and then, as one paused to rest a moment, he spoke in this manner to him who was standing nearest:

“Too bad that a parcel should come down on us at this time.”

“Yes; and I’m afraid they’re going to stay.”

“We gave the darkey a good enough fright to keep him away, but that man doesn’t look as if he could be frightened by any such thing.”

“There’s a youngster, too, I noticed to-day, when I fired at them.”

“Very likely they’ll get far enough away not to trouble us any more. It looked to me as though the darkey had brought them back to take a look at the lake and island, seeing which, they were satisfied and went back.”

“I hope so, for it’s too bad——”

At this juncture, the man thrust his pole into the water, and applied his strength to it, as a consequence of which, his words came so mutilated through his closed teeth as to be unintelligible to the intensely interested person on the other side.

All at once, Inwood felt his feet touch the bottom, and, turning his head, saw that they were within a hundred yards of the shore. Whether they intended anchoring a short distance from the land, or to lie against it, was unknown to him, although he surmised the latter, as the depth remained the same, and they still used their poles with the same resolve as at first.

If Inwood was right in his conjectures on this point, he saw that he must evacuate his position to escape being jammed between it and the rock.

Moving carefully along the edge of the raft, he made his way around the end, when he became aware of another fact which could not fail to give him uneasiness. The moon was rising, and as soon as it came above the wood or mountain, could scarcely fail to reveal him; but, as a few moments later they would be along the shore, he conjectured that if the worst came to worst, he could dart into the wood and take his chances of escape.

Shortly after, the Enchanted Island lightly touched the shore, and immediately, to the delight of Inwood, the three men whom he had noticed, sprang off and disappeared with rather a remarkable abruptness—so singular indeed that he believed they intended to return, and he therefore maintained his position until this point was settled.

Fifteen or twenty minutes passing away, and bringing no sight nor sound of them, he hesitated a moment, and then concluded to clamber upon the island and satisfy himself, so far as possible, regarding it. Still a vague sense or danger restrained him. It did not seem improbable that a sentinel was stationed upon this curious piece of workmanship, although if such were the case, he took particular good care to keep quiet and unobserved.

To satisfy himself, Inwood, with his hands drew himself twice entirely around the island. This gave him an accurate idea of its size, and showed him that its base was wood. He saw nothing suspicious, although a dozen men could have been effectually concealed in the dense shrubbery.

Suddenly a whim took possession of him to dive beneath it, and examine its construction as he passed along. This plan offered the least danger, and the breadth of the island was such that he could do it with little or no difficulty.

Sinking softly downward until he reached the lowest point, he struck rapidly out, and had taken but one stroke beneath the surface, when he came abruptly upward, and as he threw his hands above, felt nothing but the water. The next moment, to his unbounded surprise, he found that he was in the center of the island, which enclosed him on every side. In fact, it was a floating circle, the middle portion being open and full of water.

George felt around until he placed his hand upon a support, when he came to the conclusion that he had advanced another step in the solution of this mystery, but the step had taken him into as blank darkness as had the first move he made.

Here was proof that the Enchanted Island, as he had named it from his first impression, was the careful work of human hands, although why it ever should have been made was totally unexplainable. In the midst of his meditation on this point, he was not a little startled to observe, by the increasing light of the moon, the figure of a man, undoubtedly a sentinel, who, by the nodding of his head, was either half or wholly asleep.

Which was a very fortunate thing for Mr. Inwood, otherwise he could not have failed of discovering himself to him. Sheltered by the shade of the shrubbery, he made as hasty examination as possible of the contour of this interior basin, but could discover nothing more than that it was oblong in shape, and quite even around its edges.

It was while engaged in this survey that the man arose and looked down into the water, as if he saw something suspicious.

“There’s something there!” he muttered in an audible voice, “and I’ve heard it more than once. It’s a queer fish, I think.”

The queer fish, at this juncture, deemed it prudent to sink down and retreat to the outer surface of the lake, which place he reached just in time to see his man standing along shore with a huge pole, as if watching for him to rise. Fortunately, he was so close to the shore, as to be in shadow, and, feeling his way along, he speedily reached land, where he waited until his friend’s attention was called in another direction, when he crawled out, somewhat weakened by his long habitation in the water.

But the object of his reconnoisance, so far as possible, was obtained, and he set out on his return. He experienced some difficulty in recovering his clothing, but succeeded at last, and started rapidly homeward. He was not a little alarmed upon reaching the place to find that neither Jim nor Edwin was there.

CHAPTER X.

CHAPTER XI.

“I doesn’t care ’tic’larly ’bout gittin’ ’quainted wid any spooks,” muttered Jim Tubbs, after bidding good-bye to George Inwood, as the latter started on his reconnoisance of the Enchanted Island.

“Dat ’ere George was always a fearsome boy eber since he was a little codger, dat used to ride de hosses at home in ole New York—nebber could make him b’lebe any stories about ghosts, an’ hobblegoblins, an’ spooks. Beats all natur’ how queer some folks be; I don’t care much for darkeys, whedder dey be red or black, while he does; but when spooks is around, I ’fers to be ’scused, while he don’t.”

Thus did the African commune with himself, as he made his way carefully from the lake and its phantom-like island. Not until he was far from it, did he pause, look around, and ask himself what was the best thing for him to do.

“I has de ’pinion dat when I ’grated to dese parts, I come arter gold, an’ dat’s what I’m going to hunt for at present. I sometimes tinks I orter be de ’prietor ob dis ’stablishment, as I ’wested de most money. Howsumeber, Mr. Tubbs, we’ll ’scuse de ’scussion ob dat question to some subsequent ’casion.”

Without suspecting it, the African took almost precisely the same direction as that followed by Edwin Inwood. As he was looking for gold, he went along the margin of a small stream, and began examining its banks and current for some signs of auriferous deposit.

“Dey say you’re the most aptest to find gold near de water, ’less you find it somewhere else—so I’ll take a peep. O!——”

Jim stopped, absolutely thunderstruck, for there in the water before him he saw a large piece of yellow metal, whose nature he divined at a glance. Plunging forward the next instant, he seized it in his hand, and held it up, and turned it over. It was a piece of pure gold, nearly the size of a hen’s egg. It lay imbedded in the sand, only a small portion displaying itself.

The dusky fellow could scarcely restrain his delight. He turned it over and over again, and danced about, and laughed, and almost cried. Finally he sobered down.

“Dat’s de best fish I ebber catched an’ I’ve fished a good deal. Shouldn’t wonder if dere’s some more ob ’em ’bout.”

There was some reason, if not much truth, in this conclusion, and he fell to work with might and main. The stream was about a dozen feet in breadth, some eighteen or twenty inches in depth, with a clear current, and a hard, sandy bottom. As he had not his tools with him, he laid his rifle on the bank, and procured a heavy stick with which he raked the sand hither and thither in his search.

A few minutes’ search revealed another piece considerably smaller than the first, but large enough to fill Jim’s heart with joy.

“Talk about spooks!” he exclaimed contemptuously, “dat ’ere lump ob yaller stuff is more interesting dan all de spooks on de lake or in de wood. I tinks I’ll settle here for de present.”

He plied his rude rake with unabated vigor, but nothing more rewarded his labor. He gradually worked his way up the channel, so intent on his labor as not to observe or care for aught that took place around him.

This persevering toil undoubtedly would have continued until darkness, had it not been checked in a most sudden and alarming manner. Jim’s head was bent down, as he grovelled in the dust, when a peculiar, whirring noise caught his ear, and he looked up just in time to see a dark, circling ring descending over him, and, ere he could dodge, the loop of the lasso dropped to his elbows, and was drawn taut with the quickness of lightning.

The huge fellow comprehended his predicament in an instant, and exerted his giant strength to the utmost to free himself.

“Dat ’ere will nebber do! My gracious, dey’ll got all my gold!”

So great was his strength, that, in all probability, he would have broken the rope which enclosed his arms; but, in the midst of his furious struggles, a second lasso, from nearly an opposite point, shot up in the air, and, in spite of the attempt he made to dodge it, came down with unerring certainty, and helped imprison his arms.

“Dat ’ere is a little too lubbin’,” muttered Jim, toiling like a giant in his bonds, but, finding himself unable to accomplish anything in this manner, he resorted to different tactics.

“I can pull, if I can’t break.”

With which, he made a furious plunge up the bank, thereby entailing a rather ludicrous occurrence. The Mohave who had hurled the second lasso, simply held it in his hand, he and his companion instantly dropping out of sight the moment they threw their ropes. The sudden and tremendous strain upon the rope found him totally unprepared, and he came scrambling headlong out of the bushes and over the bank before he could recover himself, observing which, Jim made a dash at him; but, as the first red man had secured his around the point of a projecting rock, the doughty fellow was brought up with a round turn, and the other made all haste to rectify the mistake which he had committed.

“Lucky for you I couldn’t cotch you! If I’d got one ob dem feet ob mine on you, I’d have mashed you.”

At this juncture the red men revealed themselves, three of them rising to their feet, and all motioning to their captive to come ashore. This command he obeyed, all the time puzzling his wits to see whether there was not some means by which he could extricate himself. The third Indian placed his loop over his arms, and they then mounted their horses, fastening the ropes to the saddle, and taking good care to keep their sable prey at a respectable distance.

Poor Jim Tubbs was now fairly secured. The three ropes, which encased him like a child, were woven of a peculiar thread, which made their tenacity almost equal to that of strands of iron. The Mohaves were perfect adepts at this kind of business, and, coming upon the African unawares, they had effected his capture with rare skill.

“Dey’ve got me dis time, sure,” he reflected, as he walked along between their horses, “an’ de ’portant question is, what am dey gwine to do wid me, an’ when dey gwine to do it, an’ how dey gwine to do it, an’ how it’s gwine to ’gree wid me when dey come to do it.”

He walked along a short distance in silence, but his thoughts were busy.

“I remember dat dat gentleman in New York dat put up at my boarding house, said de Ingins sometimes roasted de prisoners what dey took. Gracious! I hope dey don’t s’pose to do dat wid me.”

He scanned the face of each one for a few moments, and concluded:

“Dey don’t look very awful in de face; don’t b’leeve dey’ll roast me. Oh! jus’ hear dem gold pieces clink in my pocket. Wonder if I can’t bribe ’em wid one ob ’em to let me off. But den dey don’t know what gold am worth; dey’d jus’ as lieb hab my jack-knife, an’ I’d jus’ as lieb hab it, too; so I tinks I’ll let it stay in my pocket fur de present. Mighty glad dey didn’t tink ’bout my ole gun in de grass, for I can go back an’ get it myself arter a while.”

That “after awhile” was the “to-morrow” of the unrepentant—a period about which one might reasonably entertain a few grains of doubt. Jim was philosopher enough, seeing that there was no help under the circumstances to take things as a matter of course. He walked along quietly and peacefully, the Mohaves being sharp enough to keep an unremitting watch upon his every movement.

Just as night was setting in, they halted near a pile of rocks, where one of their number collected sticks, and speedily started a fire. In this portion of California during the summer season, it is generally very warm and oppressive, but the last few days had been remarkably cool, and a fire was by no means unwelcome. The cramped position of his limbs made him chilly, and he came as near to the blaze as they would permit. No food was prepared, nor did the fellow care for any.

An hour or two after dark, and while the Mohaves were pulling at their pipes, and Jim was half asleep on the ground, he heard a footstep, and, raising his head, saw near him the identical Indian with whom he had shaken hands so emphatically. The African’s complexion was such as to make him easily recognizable, and the start and glance of the red man told plainly that there was no misunderstanding upon his part.

“How do you do?” inquired Jim, with a nod of his head. “If you’ll untie my arms, I’ll shake hands with you again.”

The Indian seemed pleased in his way at meeting the man who had vanquished him so nicely. He offered no rudeness to the captive but came nearer, and, seating himself upon the ground, smoked his pipe.

This was extremely gratifying to the sable individual, for it was proof positive that the Mohave had not forgotten the kindness which he had received, and that he was well disposed toward the unfortunate African.

“How lucky dat he doesn’t know I wanted to come de gold trick ober him—don’t b’lebe he’d tink so much ob me. Tank you, I guess I’ll smoke.”

He inclined his head forward, and the pipe stem was inserted between his teeth, and he puffed at him in a style which showed that there was no pretended enjoyment on his part.

“Dat ’ere tastes good, I can tell you,” he said, with an expression on his shiny face of genuine pleasure. “I’s much obliged to you, an’ you needn’t be ’fraid ob ’fending me if you want to offer it to me to-morrer agin.”

The Mohave knowing nothing at all of English, and Jim Tubbs understanding not the first syllable of Mohave, it is not to be supposed that they got along very well in conversation. Jim tried increasing the loudness of his voice, but that did not seem to help matters, and their communication therefore took the character of signs, the African’s words being thrown in by way of embellishment.

After he had smoked awhile, he turned his back so that the Mohave might see how his arms were bound, and then said:

“Jus’ cut dem, won’t you? I’ll be much obliged.”

The Indian unquestionably understood the request, but he was not satisfied as to the propriety of granting it. He looked at his companions, exchanged a few words, when they came up and debated the matter.

“I won’t run away—I’ll promise you dat—feller treats me kind, I’ll do de same wid him—gib you my word ob honor.”

They seemed disposed to grant his desire, but before doing so, began a search to assure themselves that he had not any weapons of offense about him. Jim sat motionless, except when he assisted them as much as possible, never once thinking of the gold until he heard the two pieces jingle together in his pocket. Instantly he started up in terror.

“I hain’t got noffin dere—dat am sartin’—no use ob feelin’ dat pocket.”

But a coppery-hued hand was already inserted, and the next instant it drew out the two yellow pieces.

“Dem ain’t mine,” added Jim, and then, unwilling to tell an untruth, he added, “dey ain’t, sartin—’cause I’ve got to divide wid de rest.”

They were passed back and forth, the Indians seeming to care very little about them. When they reached the hands of the hand-shaking Mohave, he turned them over several times, and then replaced them in the pocket of the rightful owner.

“Gracious! but you’re a good feller,” exclaimed Jim, “if it wan’t fur de boys, I b’lebe I’d settle down among you, an’ take you fur my bruvver chief, if you’ll only let my arms loose, you needn’t be afreed dat I’ll swing ’em round careless.”

The obliging Mohaves, at this point removed the lassoes from his limbs, and left his body entirely unrestrained—a proceeding like the former, the result of the magnanimity showed the Indian, when he expected no mercy.

“I ’gin to tink George is right,” mused Jim, “he always told me to be kind to ebery one, no matter if he was your enemy. If I had come de gold trick ober dis feller, he wouldn’t have been half so cleber. Gracious! he wouldn’t have been at all.”

The prisoner was now almost entirely at ease, and had given over all fear of his own personal safety. He argued that they would not be so lenient and considerate, if they intended any ultimate harm, and he endeavored to content himself as well as he could until the morrow, which he hoped would see him set at liberty.

As the night wore on, none of the party seemed to be sensible of its somniferous tendency. The Mohaves remained wide awake, and Jim had had too many things in his mind to feel drowsy. The former kept consulting together, and finally, when it was quite late, they all arose, and with the prisoner between them, started off.

A half hour later, they came upon the party which held Edwin Inwood.

CHAPTER XII.

CHAPTER XIII.

The three walked silently forward for a considerable distance, when Gaylor paused, and, stepping in front, so as to face the two, he spoke as a man speaks when in earnest.

“See here Jim and Ned, as I believe you call each other, I’ve got a few words to say to you. I’m a pretty bad man, but when one does me a kindness, I’m like an Indian, and don’t forget it. I want to thank you Ned, again, for what you tried to do. This here darkey has been the means of saving my life, when I’d given up. I spoke mean to him awhile ago, I want to ask his pardon for that, and give him my thanks.”

“Gorry, don’t say nuffin’ ’bout it,” said Jim, drawing his huge hand across his eyes, “’tain’t worth spoken ’bout. It’s all right.”

“I’m glad to hear it. When you hear me speak again as I did of a black man awhile ago, it will be when I hain’t got any senses left. But see here, I’ve got something I’m going to do for you. You have another man with you, haven’t you? One who is the leader.”

“Yes; my brother George.”

“Take me to him.”

“Hold on,” interrupted Jim, “I’d like to get dat gun ob mine. I know where I left it up among de grass ’long de creek where dey lassoed me.”

“Lead on then.”

The three deviated from their course, and soon afterward reached the stream, where Jim had found his gold, and the Mohaves had found him. A short search discovered his gun, and they started homeward. The distance was considerable, and it was fully an hour before they reached the wood, where George Inwood was overjoyed to see them.

A few minutes’ talk made everything plain to him.

“You see, George Gaylor ain’t the man to give a friend the go by,” said that personage himself. “And I’ll prove to you that I mean what I say. I s’pose you’re in these parts looking for gold?”

“That is what has drawn us hither,” replied George, with a smile.

“Have you found much?”

“Not a great deal; we have had middling good fortune.”

“I s’pose maybe now I hain’t got noffin’,” said Jim, as he drew his two nuggets from his pocket, and displayed them to the wondering gaze of his friends.

“You seem to be made of gold,” said George; “you know how you put your hand in your pocket, and brought it out, when we bought our horses; but where did you obtain it?”

“Maybe I was digging it out ob de sand when de Ingins slung dere ropes ober my neck—maybe I didn’t got it dere.”

“Is there any more?”

“Don’t tink dere is.”

“Whether there is or not, don’t matter,” said Gaylor, “I’ll show you more gold to-day than you ever seen before, and all that you will ever care about seeing.”

All looked at him with a look which said they failed to take in his meaning.

“Just come with me—you will see it is no humbug.”

And the whole party started toward the Enchanted Island, Gaylor himself leading the way.

At first sight, George Inwood recognized Gaylor as the man whom he had viewed through the telescope, and who had fired his gun at their friends. He did not deem it best, however, to refer to these circumstances, as he placed full faith in the honesty of the man’s intentions.

Reaching the lake, he searched awhile along the shore for a canoe. He had great difficulty in finding it, but succeeded at last, and then, asking his friends to await his return, he paddled rapidly across the lake, and, landing on the shore, entered the thick wood. He was undoubtedly with his companions, and remained away a good while. While they were watching for his return, Jim exclaimed in great excitement:

“See dar! look at de island! I’s agwine to leabe when spooks comes about.”

The island, which at first sight was lying along shore, could now be seen slowly approaching the center of the lake, and at the same moment, the form of Gaylor was distinguished, as he plied his pole. This seemed to convince Jim that there was nothing supernatural about it, and he consented to remain.

Reaching a point near the middle, the mass of shrubbery came to a stand still, and Gaylor then put off in his canoe.

“Jump in,” said he, as it lightly touched the shingle, “it will hold you all. I’ll show you something which you have never seen.”

They stepped carefully into the small canoe, and it sank to its gunwales with the unusual weight. But Gaylor managed it skilfully, and a few minutes later they all stepped upon the Enchanted Island.

“Now, let me tell you a little story,” said their friend. “Some months ago a party of five of us came down through these parts looking for gold. Reaching this lake we started across it in a boat, and near the middle discovered several yellow nuggets lying on the bottom. I dove down and brought them up, and found them to be gold. We soon found there was any quantity lying around loose, and, of course, we determined to get all we could. But while we had come upon a fortune, there were several bad things in the way of bringing it up. The country was full of Indians, and there were white men wandering over the country. If any of them should get news of our windfall, it would be all over with us. So, after thinking over it, we hit upon a plan. We made a frame-work of logs, and then covered it over with green sod, pebbles and trees, so as to make it look just like an island. Then we sometimes kindled fires, so as to scare any one who saw it. This we floated right over the spot where we saw the gold, and began bringing it up. We had to dive for it after we had managed to loosen a portion with our poles. We had so much trouble in getting it, that one of our men started to San Francisco for tools to answer our purpose. But we never heard of him again, and we suppose the Mohaves got track of him. Howsumever, we worked away, and the amount of it is, we have all made an independent fortune, and there is enough left for you. We used to float this ashore at night, as we had a good hiding place there. I have started my party north to San Francisco, and I expect to join them in half an hour. No one knows this secret but you. You can work here as long as you please. You seem to have the good will of the Mohaves, but look out for white men. Be very careful to let no one see you at work. Now, if you will only take me ashore, I will leave you alone.”

George Inwood paddled their friend to land, where they bid farewell to each other, and he returned to the Enchanted Island, and began work.

Gaylor had not deceived him. They saw large quantities of gold shining on the bottom of the lake. George observed that it lay directly in the path of the canon, which has been referred to as emptying into the lake. This made it seem as if it had been washed down by the current, whose tremendous velocity was sufficient to hurl boulders of a ton’s weight down its channel as if driven by a columbiad.

It is not often that a fortune can be picked up from the bottom of a lake, and, even when the inviting auriferous nuggets and the glittering sand lay before their eyes, it was found no easy task to bring it up to the surface. But what will man not do for gold? A bountiful harvest awaited them, and they toiled and labored as they never had done before.

Jim was the great machine for procuring the precious yellow particles. Neither George nor Edwin could remain under water long enough to secure much; but the African took to it as if he was amphibious, and rather preferred it to the hard, dry earth, and pure mountain air. His great rolling eyes, first located the rich mineral, and, poising himself for an instant, down he went like an arrow until he touched bottom, where he clawed around with a vigor and persistency which were sure to show substantial results.

“When I gits down dar,” said Jim, as he sat on the edge of the Enchanted Island resting himself, “I jes’ opens my eyes, an’ I can see as well as you can. The water looks kinder yeller, but de gold looks yellerer, an’ so I’m sure to see it.”

The negro always plunged in head first.

“Cause you see if I happen to strike de rocks, it’ll be my head, an’ den dar’s no danger ob gittin’ hurt.”

This was his philosophy.

Our friends had unmistakeably found a prize, and it only remained for them to work it up. As Edwin was of comparatively little use, he occasionally roamed in the woods in search of game. He was careful not to stray far away, as there really was no necessity for doing so, and even if he failed in obtaining his food in this manner, the lake offered a good supply of fish, which were always at their disposal.

When the first night came, an inventory of their receipts was taken, and George Inwood was sure that they were several thousand dollars richer than at morning, and so expressed himself to his friends.

“Rather better earnings than we have yet made,” he remarked, with some degree of complaisance, as the three sat in the cool of the evening, chatting and discussing the matter.

“Yes, I think we ought to be satisfied with that,” replied Edwin.

“I isn’t,” was the sententious observation of Jim, as he quaffed his black clay pipe.

“And why not?” inquired George.

“’Cause I ain’t, dat’s de reason. In de fust place, dat ain’t ’nough gold, an’ in de next place, it’s too little, an’ den we orter git more. Wait till I gits to work to-morrer, an’ I’ll show you sumfin. Dar’s a sort ob gineral looseness dat I hab to git frough me, afore I can do what I orter.”

“Well, I shall be satisfied if you only do as well as you have to-day.”

“I must do better to-morrer, an’ I’s goin’ to.”

There was a fear—a continued apprehension, which made our friends quite uneasy—that is, that some prowling band of hunters or miners might discover their secret. If such a dreaded contingency should occur it would make a fearful time. Unrestrained by any fear of the law, and prompted by the great prompter of the majority of human actions, such a company would hesitate at no crime to secure the booty.

George Inwood’s experience had taught him the value of money in this world’s affairs, and he was resolutely determined to resist to the bitter end any encroachments upon their rights. There are some things more valuable than gold, but they are few, and it cannot be wondered that a man should feel some reluctance at parting with it.

Jim verified the boast that he made; for on the morrow he began work so soon as it was bright, and toiled with scarcely any intermission until nightfall, his net proceeds fully doubling those of the day before. Inwood, by this time, had managed to arrange a contrivance with the poles which materially assisted him. One of these being sharp-pointed, he was enabled to wrench off goodly-sized nuggets, while with another arrangement, he was able to grapple and bring them to the surface. Still a third had a pan fastened to the end, by means of which he scooped up a large mass of sand, all flecked with gleaming points, and abounding with riches.

Edwin Inwood’s principal occupation, aside from attending to the animals, was to wander through the surrounding woods on the lookout for white men, who, as will be easily understood, were more dreaded than anything else. On one occasion, he discovered a party of five miners encamped within a mile. He instantly made all haste back, and acquainted his friends with the startling fact.

Labor was suspended at once, the gold carefully concealed, and all three set themselves on the watch. The miners were prospecting, and were ignorant of the Enchanted Island and its history. They lingered for several days in the vicinity, and then, to the great relief of the Inwoods and Jim, they took their departure.

Week after week passed away, and still the little party toiled as unceasingly as ever; but when a month had come and gone, they saw that the supply was giving out. Still, as all of us would have done under the circumstances, they kept to work as long as there was anything like a reward to be obtained for their labor.

But the end finally came, and they stopped work, and took an account of stock. As nearly as George Inwood could calculate, they were the owners of something less than a hundred thousand dollars—all of it in gold coin. They certainly had reason to be satisfied with this, and all were, with the exception of Jim, who, of course, growled about it, and proposed that they should hunt up some more “Enchanted Islands” before going home; but then, had another proposed the same thing, he would have vehemently opposed it.

All the gold they could conveniently carry was distributed about their persons, and the rest was concealed among the saddles on the backs of their animals. The old mule was not honored with a particle, but carried the luggage and personal baggage.

All being ready the little party turned their faces toward San Francisco, and on a bright summer morning started homeward.

CHAPTER XIV.

CHAPTER XV.

PUBLISHED SEMI-MONTHLY, AT TEN CENTS EACH.

BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Street, New York.

The Table of Contents has been created by the transcriber.

The original spelling of “reconnoisance” has been retained wherever it occurs in the text.

Obvious typographical errors and punctuation errors have been corrected after careful comparison with other occurrences within the text and consultation of external sources.

On page 12, “eparture” has been changed to “departure”: “stay his forcible departure”

On page 16, “skillfu” has been changed to “skillful”: “as does the skillful dentist” and “his his” has been changed to “his”: “a few moments to explain his scheme”

On page 27, “Marion” has been changed to “Marian” for consistency: “get a glimpse or peep at Marian”

On page 28, “be” has been changed to “he”: “‘Dar!’ he said, as he flung it”

On page 42, “boquet” has been changed to “bouquet”: “it had the appearance of a bouquet”

On page 55, “despite, his ungainly manner of traveling” has been changed to “despite his ungainly manner of traveling”

On page 59, “unwieldly” has been changed to “unwieldy”: “plied the unwieldy craft”

On page 60, “some” has been changed to “same”: “with the same resolve as at first”

On page 63, “childrens’” has been changed to “children’s”: “daubed up like a lot of children’s toys”

On page 66, “beseiged” has been changed to “besieged”: “who had besieged them in the cave”

On page 75, “tatooed” has been changed to “tattooed”: “her chin all tattooed with India ink” and “their” has been changed to “there”: “there ain’t a more villainous set of dogs”

On page 77, “bandinage” has been changed to “badinage”: “was about uttering some more badinage”

On page 79, “promted” has been changed to “prompted”: “for he was prompted by the most powerful”

On page 99, the original text represented here by the word “office” is obscured: “seeing him put a letter in the office, addressed to you” and “thought strange” has been changed to “thought it strange”: “he must have thought it strange”