' I'W‘EilI-H-‘ w! H .Illll-H ‘ 1 ‘ ‘ AM"! > Copyrighted. 1885, by BIADLI AND ADAMS. Entered-at the You own at. New York. N. Y., Ill Second Clan Mall Mutter. Aug. ‘26. 1885. 2.50 Published Weekly b Beudlo and Adams 1- I Voll a.Yenr. N0. 93 “vulllmmysrr” NEW YORK. , Fiverogfitl. N0. 85' 0y Miners; or, The Enchanted Island. BY EDWARD S. ELLIS. “nu ’mu m A LITTLE T00 LUBBIN‘," mum-mam) JIM, momma Lme A GIANT IN HIS nouns. “I CAN PULL, m I CAN‘T BREAK." ‘ mg‘ some suc 2, V l I The Boy Miners. ’ P The Boy Miners; TEE ENGHANh‘ED ISLAND. A Tale of the Yellowstone Country. BY EDWARD S. ELLIS, AUTHOR or “BILL BIDDON," “SETH JONES,” “NAT TODD,” “FRONTIER ANGEL,” ETC. CHAPTER I. “ THERE THEY COME l” “ YOUNG Edwin Inwood leaped down from the small tree in which he had been perched for the last half-hour, and ran swiftly toward the brook where his eldest brother, George, and a large n 0, named Jim Tubbs, were waiting, ever an anon raising their heads, and looking to- ward the boy who was acting as sentinel, seve- ral hundred ards away, as if they were expect— an alarm as this. Quick! they’ll soon be here!” he added, in his terrible excitement. “ How many are there?” inquired George, cfiching up his shovel at the same time with his 1' e. ‘ “I shouldn’t wonder if there were twenty. I’m sure I saw a dozen, anyway.” “i More likely dar’s a t’ousandl" angrily ex- claimed Jim, gathering his implements together - preparatory to making a move. “Dis yer’s a nominee—jest as We gits in among (10 gold, dem Inguns has to ’gin dar tricks.” ' ‘Hurry, Jim!” admonished the young man, begimiing to grow nervous. “ It won’t do to be r can ht here.” “ ey hain’t cotched dis pusson yit, an’ if dey undertooks it somebody ’ll git hurt. I can ,swing dat pick kind 0’ loose when I makes up , my’mind todo so. I’s ready. Now whar does ye pitch to?” ‘ Into the cave, of course.” George Inwood, loaded down with his gun and im lements, hurried u the channel of the brook or several hundred Feet, and then mak- ing a. sudden plunge to the right, disappeared as abruptly as it the earth had opened and - swallowed him. The next moment, his brother Edwin, a lad of some fifteen years of age, whisked after him, and then Jim came lumber- ing along, somewhat after the manner of an ox when goaded ofl.’ his usual plodding walk. . “ Dis yer’s ’Eiracefull” he muttered, not deign- ing to look be rid him to see whether the envi- ous aborigines Were visible. “ I never did like to trot ’s ially when an Injin was drivin' me, an’ ‘Only 093 it to please de boys.” “ Come, Jim, move faster,” called the voice of freer-go Inwood from some subterranean re- reat. “ Yes, yes, I’s dar—” Further exclamation was cut short, for at this instant the indignant African was seized by the ankle with such force that he fell prostrate ts of dire punishment, was quickly drawn ' n his back, and despite his struggles and v out of sight and hearing. 4 This was scarcely done when a dozen Mohave Indians swarmed over the ridge of rocks and trees which bounded the northern part of the stream, and scattered here and there in quest of the gold—hunters, whom they had been watchin from a distance all the afternoon. Each 0 them was armed with a gun several displa ed tomahawks and knives at their girdles, while the majority had large beautifully—woven and ginamental blankets thrown over their shoul- ers. Running hither and thither, their sharp black eyes darting in every direction, they could not be long without discovering traces of the inter- lopers. A sort of halloo, something like the yelp of a large dog when a cow flings him over the fence, told that one of the dusky scamps was on the trail. Immediame the whole pack darted up the channel, and the next moment had halted before the mouth of a cave, the en- eiitrance being of sufficient width to admit the passage of an ordinary-sized man; but just now , a large bowlder prevented their ingress. Certain that the gold—hunters were immured here, and were within their ower, the Mohaves indulged in a hop, skip, an dance around the cave, flinging their arms aloft, and shouting continual] in their wild, outlandish ton e. When their clamor had somewhat subside , a gruff voice from within the cave was heard: “ Hullol dar, I say! Hullo! I say! Can’t yese kee yer clacks still a miunit when a gemman wis as to speak?” The singular source and sound of the human voice had the desired effect, and instant silence fell upon all. “ Am dai' any ob yous dat spoke English? If dar am, please to signify it by sayin’ so, an’ if dar ain’t, also signify (hit by obsarvin’ de same si .” fim waited several minutes for a reply, but, receiving none, he became more indignant, and was about to burst out in a tirade against them, when George Inwood ventured to suggest that, as in all probability they could not speak the English language, as a matter of course, they were deprived of the ability of sa 'ng so. “But dey orter to know ’noug to saynoe any fool know dat,” persisted the African. “lint how can they understand what you (1 X”’Clar’—didn't t’ink ob datl What am we to oi “ Defend ourselves—that is all that is left us.” “ I’ll go take a look at dem,” said Jim, begin- ning to creep along the passage toward the mouth of the cave. ‘ “I insist that you be more careful in your dealings with them. You ought toknow what a treacherous and untrustworthy set of people they are.” . Jim promised caution, as he always did in such matters, and Inwood kept close to him to see that he fulfilled his pledge. Reaching themouth of the cave, the African gave a sneeze to pro- claim his presence emitted with such ex los1ve vigor, that the Mohaves gathered aroun , star- tled as then h the ground beneath them had suddenly reddened with heat.- They rec01led a few steps, and then waited With some anxiety for the next demonstration. Jim Tubbs had a voice, composed half-in.ha,11 Ln- mo 44......” The Iioy Miners. 3 ' of those tones which are heard when a hu 0 saw is being filed, and that which is made y the rumbling of the distant thunder. The judicious mixture made from these, it may safely be said, was terrific and rather trying to a sensitive man’s nerves; and, as ho was in rather an indig- nant mood on the present occasion, when he called to tho Mohaves, it was more forcibly than politel : “ W at does yer want?’7 Whena orson has reason to believe that the one whom e is addressing has difficulty in un- derstanding his words, he 5001’s to think the trouble can be overcome by increasing the loud- ness of his tone. Jim repeated his question each time with greater force, until the last demand partook more of the nature of a screech than anything else. y this time, the aborigines had obtained a view of the black face, cautiously presenting itself at the opening made by the partial with- drawing of t e stone, and one of them, laying down his gun and knife, as an earnest of his pacific intentions, deliberately advanced to the entrance of the cave, and reached out his hand. “ Take it,Jim,” whispered Inwood, ‘-‘ he means that as an offering of good will.” “I hope yer am well,” remarked Jim, as he thrust his immense digits through the opening. “ I’ is purty well, an’ so am all ob us— Gerry- nationl what am yer at?” The Mohave had suddenly seized the hand of the negro in both his own with tremendous force, and was now pulling with such astonish- ing power as slowly to drag the unsuspicious Af- rican forward. “ I tell ye let go,” shouted the latter; “ it won’t do! VVal, if ye wants to pull wid d s Chile, why pull an’ see who am do best fellerl” Inwood, in his apprehension for the safety of the negro, seized his leg, and endeavored with his utmost strength to stay his forcible depar- ture. Jim was six feet three inches in hight, and along his limbs was deposited an enormous quantity of muscle almost as hard as the bone itself; be was not quick but he was a man of prodigious strength, am when he chose to ex- ert it, there were few living men who could withstand it. If there could ever be a suitable occasion to exert it, that occasion was the pre- sent. . And Jim did call it into play. Closing his great fingers around the hand of the Mohave, he cld it firm] as if it were thrust into the jaws of a. Numi ian lion, and then bracing his feet against the sides of the cavern, he said: ‘l‘lli’ ow, my ’spectable friend, you pull an’ I’ll pu . At the first contraction of that muscular arm, the Mohave was drawn a. foot forward; and, in dreadful alarm, he uttered a cry which brought several of his companions to his relief, and they, seizing him by his lower limbs, pulled as deter- minedly in the opposite direction. “ If yer gets dis feller back ag’in, I t’inks he’ll be about a foot taller,”. muttered Jim, as he gave another hitch with the hapless aborigine, which jerked not only him forward, but those who were clinging fast to his extremities. Thgfi, ,united in a “long pull, a. strong p , and a pull all together,” with no effect, exceptto give the subject under debate a terrific strain. “ Yeave ho! here ye go 1” And with amazing power, Jim Tubbs drew the Mohave clear in o the cave, beyond all reach from his companions. CHAPTER II. A BOMB-SHELL EXPLonns. “Now you keep still, or I’ll come de gold trick ober you!” admonished Jim, as he hurried the captured Mohave to the rear portion of the cave, and delivered him in charge of George 1n- woorl and his brother. , “What do you mean by the gold trick?” in- quired the latter, as he caught up his gun an placed himself in an attitude to command the movements of the captured Indian. “ Why I mean dat— Hullol” Jim turned and darted up the passe e, in ‘ which he had detected a suspicious 110158. e was not a moment too soon. The red-men furious at the abduction of one of their number before . their 6 es, had united to force away the stone and, a the instant the negro returned, one 0 them had shoved his body half-through the opening. “ Out ob darl” shouted Jim, as, with uplifted pick, he made straight at the intruder. The latter, fully panic—stricken, turned about and whisked out of the cave much more rapidly than he entered, his moccasins twinkling in the air, as ibthe same means had been employed to extract him, that had been used to draw his . venturesome companion in. The ludicrous appearance of the Mohave, as he scrambled out among his friends exceedingly leased the ponderous African, who laughed oudly and heartily. “Didn’t fancy do way I swung dat ick round! I was kinder loose wid it, an’ if I’ let it drap on him, it would’ve made him dance.” It looked very much as if our friends, in cape turin the Mohave, had, to use a common ex- pression, secured an “elephant.” What to do with him, was the all-important question,'now that he was in their power. Being without any warlike implements, he was comparatively harmless and, as there was no escape for him except through the passage by w ich he had entered, it was hardl to be supposed that, so long as he was unmo ested, he would indulge in any performances likely to bring down the wrath of his captors upon him. ‘ Withdrawing to the opposite side of the cave (which was not more than a dozen feet in diame- ter) he stood silent and sullen, while Edwin In-v wood, with his loaded and cocked rifle, watched- him with the vigilance of a. cat. George In- wood, feeling that nothing was to be up re- hended from the present shape of affairs wi in their subterranean home, passed up the narrow entrance to where Jim was, in order to learn how matters stood there. , . At the moment of reaching his sable friend, the discharge of a gun was heard, and Jim has- tily retreated on his hands and knees a few feet. ‘Are you hit?” inquired Inwood in some alarm. “Yes, but dey didn’t hurt me; day Mt me on de head!” i diatel in the rear of the immense bowlder. they could old it against the combined efforts of any number of men on the outside, and, at the same ~time, keep themselves invisible, while, by re- maining in their present position, they ran every risk of being struck. Consequently, no time was lost in creeping into the proper place, where, for the time being, they felt themselves masters of the situation. Having successfully staved off all danger for the present, the question naturally arose, how was this matter to end? The gold—hunters were , walled up in a. cave, with plenty of arms and ammunition, little food and no water. The Mohaves it they chose to do so, could keep them there an il they perished from thirst or starva- 1011 Edwin Inwood soon grew tired of standing in his- constrained position, and he cautiously set down his gun, within immediate reach, and then sinkin down upon one knee, resumed the work whichfiiad beenlso peremptorily checked by the entrance of the captured Mohave. A large stone, weighing over a dozen pounds, was held firmly in position, While be employed both hands in drilling a hole into the center. This, s v as all know, is uite a tedious operation, and, f v altho h he had he usual tools of the blaster of rocks, e made slow progress. Still, he was t,‘ 4 animated by that great spur to exertion, ne- i’ ,cessity, and he applied himself to his task with- ' 'ont intermission. While his brother and the gigantic African ‘ ‘were parleying and debating upon their situa- tion, he succeeded in reaching the depth desired, and then carefully removing the debris, he ' thoroughly cleaned the cavity, as does the skill- ful dentist when preparing our molar for the ' ,golden filling. Into this hollow, the lower por- tion of which he had managed to give a glob- ular shape, he poured several han fuls of Du- pont’s best, a piece of fuse all the while stand— ing upright, while the jetty particles arranged themselves around it. Dust and sand were ‘then careful] dropped in, until they reached ' the surface 0 the stone, when it assumed the appearance of a solid honest fragment of rock, wi h the odd-looking fuse sprouting from its side. “ There 1” exclaimed the boy, with a sigh, “it is done, and I think it will answer very well.” ‘ As /he looked u , he still saw the Mohave standing quiet an sullen, but with his dark eyes fixed upon the young artisan with a curi- ous expression. as though a dim idea of the meaning of all this was gradually filtering through his brain. “ What do you think of it?” asked the young- ‘ .si'er, holding up the block of stone,’with a smile ,' at his/own success, and at the_whitn which ompted the query. If the questioned had any ea of the meaning of the question, he did not to manifest it. but maintained the same stolid silence as before. “I‘don’t suppose it will suit you very well; at any rate your friends will be more astonished ‘ than pleased with it.” i _ , f, ,. The boy called his brother, who immediately I ‘ his appearance. It took but a few mo- ...~.-....~..-.y,_. The Boy Minors. “in “ Can they not force back the stone?” ments to explain his scheme, which pleased the “ Not if we can git close 11 behind it.” young man. The negro spoke the trut , for, when imme— “It can do no harm to us to ,” he said, as he picked it up and carried it to im. The lat- ter listened to the explanation a moment, and his great eyes rolled with delight at the scheme. “ Fus’ rate, fus' rate, almost as good as (16 gold trick.” 1: It is as good a time as any to try it, isn’t it? “I s’pose so—you kin see dey’re purty thick out dei‘e.” Inwood produ ed a match and set fire to the fuse. It burned uite rapidly, like the string of a Chinese cracker. “ Throw it out as quick as it reaches the sand!" called Edwin from the cave. “ Golly, it’s dar now!” exclaimed Jim, spring- ing up, and preparing to toss it out among the Mohach gathered outside. Unfortunately, his elbow struck the side of the entrance, and the bomb-shell dropped at his feet. Believing it about to explode, the negro ran back in dismay, when Inwood, with remarkable coolness, drew the huge bowlder a little to one side, and, catch- ing up the stone, swung it through the opening. Before the Mohaves could understand the intent of this, the terrible object burst into a thousand fragments, and with wild whoops of terror, the red-men scattered in every direction, as though they themselves were a portion of an immense bomb-shell which had exploded. The success of Edwin’s scheme, and delight of our friends were complete. “ Anybody killed?” asked Jim, and his com- panion peered cautiously around the edge of the bowldcr. - “I suppose not; but they have been hit and frightened almost out of their senses, and that will do as much good as though it had slain half a dozen of them. I don’t believe they will come back again.” “Dunno ’bout that; dey’re a. queer set ob dark- ies, am de Injins.” “ I don’t think from what I have heard, that these Mohaves are the bravest tribe of Indians in California, and they are too much afraid of us to make much trouble so long as we remain in the cave. And that reminds me of our pris- oner—what are we to do with him?” “Kill him,” was the decided response. “No; that will never do; we can not murder him.” “ Let me come dc gold trick ober him.” “I haven’t learned what it is.” “ J es” come back where he am, an’ I’ll soon l’arn you.” Inwood was apprehensive that the “gold trick,” so often referred to by his sable friend, meant something 'cruel, and he concluded it safer to restrain him. “ Never mind about it now, Jim; I have a plan of my own.” “ What’s dat?” “ Let him go.” “ You don’t mean dat’i” “ Yes, I do; although he is our enemy, and \ although his own people are barbarians, who are none too good to put us to_the worst kind of torture, if they had us in their power, yet, we are Christians, and cannot do such athmg.” / The Boy Miners. 8 “ Dunno but what you are right; fetch out do teller.” “ Besides,” added Inwood, as he moved away, “ it may change their feelings toward us. They know we have one of their number in our power, and, if we let him go unharmed, they will have less reason to look upon us as their enemies— this one at least will regard us as a friend.” The decision made, it was carried out without delay. The Mohave was led from the cave care- fully alon the passage toward the opening. 110 evidently elieved he was being conducted to his doom; he was as sullen and stoical ashis race generally are at such times. Jim had rolled the bowlder back so as to afford him free egress, and Inwood, iirst taking him by the arm, ino— tioned for him to retire. The aborigine did not com rehend his meaning, when his captor turned his ace toward the opening, and gave him a entle shove. This was a hint v. 11ic h could not B misunderstood, and he darted out in a twink- ling and disappeared. “ ow, I will take a look and see whether there are an of them left,” said Inwood, as he stealthily f0 lowed the liberated Mohave. By this time it was growing dark, but objects for a considerable distance were quite distinct, and George Inwood made a thorough reconnois sauce of the brook for several hundred yards up and down. At the end of a half-hour, he re- turned with the )leasing word that the Mohaves had taken their eparturc. CHAPTER III. THE GOLDEN GATE. HAVING given this episode in the history of the gold-hunters, it is necessary to take a look at events which came to pass a few‘ months pre— Vious. One bleak day in the winter of 1857—8, ayoung man was walking slowly down Broadway, hum- ming a mournful tune in a lively voice, and doing his utmost to keep up his spirits, which, just then, were at their lowest ebb. In the natur things, the cor fellow could not be otherw se. While in t e senior class in college, preparing for the ministry, and succeeding most brilliantly, he was summoned home to New York, just in time to receive his father’s dying blessing; his mother having fallen asleep several years before, he was thus left an or ban, . with a younger brother to provide for. s his father had been a leading merchant in the great metropolis, there seemed to belittle difficulty in this, and he assumed the control of aifairs at once. But the mutterings of that financial storm were ah-eady heard in the sky, and it soon burst over the land, toppling old-established houses like so many ninepins, and carrying woe and desolation to many a hearthstone. George In- wood placed his shoulder to the wheel, and toiled manfull ; but where so many thousands of experienc merchants were swept away by the current, it would have been almost 11 mir- acle had he been able to resist the whirling tide. Finding it useless, he threw up his arms, and went down with the multitude. When every- thing was gone, he found that he still owed his creditors many thousand dollars. And so he bummed the livel air in his mourn- i‘ul voice, as he dreamil wa ked down Broad- , way, and asked himsel what was to be done. He was vaerty-stricken with his youn er brother depending upon him, and the big A ri- can, Jim ubbs, who had alwa s lived in the family from his childhood, wit su ) ort. atnrally, a hundred schemes presented them- selves, as they always will to a young man, when thrown u .on his own resources. He mi ht serve as a clcr i—that is, if an body wan d him, which was by no means li rely; he might teach, if any school was in want of such a teacher as himself, which was e ually improb- able. He might do anything, if t e opportunity were given him; but, during these “hard times,” he soon learned that the worst possible place for a man out of emplo ment, is in a large city. When he was turnm away again and, again, his heart failed him, and as he bummed his lively air in his niournful voice, he came tea. , conc usion which he ought to have made a con- siderable time before. “ I must leave New York; I shall soon starve here.” . ‘ I When he reached his lodgings, where his bro— ther Edwin was staying, and where Jim man- aged to earn his own board by doing odd 'obs around the house, he called the two toget er, and imposed the oft-repeated question: “ here shall we go?” “ Let‘s o to Quito,” said Edwin. whohad just been stu ying his geography; “they always have spring weather there, and floaty to eat, and so they have in several other p ces in South America.” “ It is hardly the place for us however.” “I tell you whar to go,” said im. “ Where is that?” . “ I’s been t’inking about it for free weeks, an’ made all de,’quiries possible, an’ found out it’s jest do place for us, an’ dat’s Californy. Dere‘s a man sta in’ at this house now—his name is Swill—no, ills, an’he’s jest got back from Cal- iforny, an’, gollyi you orter hear him tell ’hout de country! It’s awful splendid,” added Jim, in his enthusiasm. . “It will be quite an undertaking to go to Cali—_ fornia, and we’ll take a day or two to think about it,” said Inwood, feeling at the same time that the Golden Gate was the door throu h which he should pass to cunfort and Wealth. n the evening, he walked out alone to think over the matter. ‘ It being nearly ten years since that flood-tide of navigation had set in toward California from every part of the world, the charm, in a great measure, was now broken, and those who went " there, did so, very frequently, for other pur- poses than to dig gold. Yet, nwood concluded that if he went, it should be for the purpose of extracting the yellow metal from the rocks and earth. He was twenty-five years of age, his heart was set upon being a Christian minister, and he felt that if he ever intended to become one even with the be] which his church ex- tended to indigent men, e had no time to plod up the hill of fortune. , But right here arose the troublesome uestion how was California to be reached? He but no means of l .:_—:;z A 3.2me ‘3 , an’ how we wanted to go to Californy. B The Boy Miners. little over a hundred dollars, barely sufficient to pay his own passage, without taking into ac- count the necessity of carr ing at least Jim with him, and the outfit w ich was indispen- sable. But again, kind Providence smiled upon his project. After announcing his willingness to go to California, if he possessed the means, Jim Tubbs suddenly disa peered, and was gone for a couple of days. on he came back again, he was very im rtant, and seemed as well be- comesa man wiig carries a mighty secret in his breast. “ Doesn’t make no difference where I’ve been,” he'said rather savagely, in response to inquiries of the slip—shod, bulky landlady. “ I’s been on bis’ness—dat's whar I’ve been—on very ’portant bis’ness. Yes, ma‘am.” The tubby landladg lowered her head, as does a cow when a. out to charge, that her spectacles mi ht slip down far enough on her pug nose to a] ow her to look over them. Then she stared at Jim a moment in mute amaze- ment. “ A black man off on business—never heard of such a thing,” and she lifted her skirts rather 'ngerly', retreating from the apartment, leav- Jim alone with the two Inwoods at the tea- ta. 1e. The two latter knew that the African had, some news to tell, and they forbore to question him, choosing to wait until he was ready to unbosom, which was just what he ’ didn’t want them to do. He waited and waited for them to inquire of him until he could waitno lon er. “gGorry’ation! why don’t you an: me?” he .flnally demanded, in high dudgeon. “ Ask you what?” mildly inquired George, who saw that the secret was coming. “ Why, what I’ve got to say.” “How did I know you had anything to say?” “ ’Caus’ you did know it—dat’s de reason. Is 11 an’ seen Captain Romaine—mighty glad to see me. ‘ How are you, Jim. ?—how’s all do $1” f—Iww's George an’ Ned getting ’long? by don‘t day come down an’ see me 2” Could- _n’t do much, stuffed me so full, I like to cracked open from my chin down to my heels.” . " “That’s very pleasant, but had you your im- portant business with him 5’” “ ’Course I had—very ’portant, but you don’t seem to care much about it, so I won’t take the ’ _trouble to tell you.” ‘ If the curiosity of Inwood had not been al- ' ready amused, he would have left the African alone, knowing that he would burst, if compelled to hold his secret a half-hour longer. So he asked him: “What was it, J im? don‘t keep us waiting.” “Wal. the way ob it, you see, was dis way: Arter de captain had axed about my health, free, four times, I tells him what had happtengdé s a 801' he axed mo. in a great flurry: ‘how lucky dat are. Old Mr. Inwood was allers a good friend 'ob mine, an’ I’m mighty glad .I can do sumfln’ for his children. I’s captain ob dis steamer, Jim,’ said he, ‘an’ we're gomg to sail 'on Saturday. Tell George, an’ Ned. an’ your- tready an’ sail wid me. I’ll land you self to mus, (don’t know what dat am) an’ onde . i give you a ticket cl’ar to San Francisco ’—dat’s what he said, George—’clar’ he did." This was as )leasant as unexpected to George and Edwin, w 0 expressed their delight to each other, and commended the shrewdness of Jim Tubbs. “How came you to think of the captain?” in, uircd the younger. ‘ \Val you see I’ve know’d him for a. dozen years. When (lat steamer used to run to New Orleans, ole Mr. Inwood got him do place ob captain on it, an7 before (lat, when Captain Romaine’s Wife died an’ ho was too poor to bury her. ole Mr. Inwood done it all for him. Dcn gittin’ him do place ob captain right arter dat— why, I tell you it was almost more dan do man could stand, an’ he’s mighty glad to do anything he can for his children.” “ I’ll go down and see him to-morrow.” “ Yas, dat’s what he said he wanted you to (lo—you go right off for he wants to see you mighty bad.” “ He sails on Saturday, and to—day is Thurs- day. lVe must get ready to—morrow. Well, we can do that easily enough, as we are not going to take a fortune with us to California, and a few hours are enough to get our baggage together.” ‘ Dar’s plenty ob room on dat steamer. I tell you, she's a whisker, an’ she can take a big lot ob people. De captain showed me frough ebery part ob it, an’ it war a sight to so. I told him I shouldn’t go, ’less he’d let me work my passage. He kinder laughed an’ said, if I was so anxious to make myself useful, he‘d find some little jobs for me to do somewhere 'bout de boat.” The next morning, George and Edwin Inwood. went down to the Wharf, and made a call upon Captain Romaine, who commanded the Califor- nia steamer, “Golden Gate." The lar o—hearted captain was lad to see them, shook t em both cordially by be hand, and, having learned how matters stood, from the loquacious Jim Tuhbs, he soon ut his friends at case. They agreed to take pa sage with him on the following day, and then bade him good—morning. As they were step ing of! the plank, the captaifi’tbuched thed shou der of George, and motioned him 8.51 e. “These are dreadful times, and I know it has gone hard with you. A man who is going to California, as you are, needs quite a pile to equip him. Now, my hey, if you need any- thing, I be you will do me the kindness to say so; for not ing would give me greater pleasure than to do a favor for the son of the best friend I ever had.” Inwood thanked him, but assured him that he needed nothing. He felt that he could not re- ceive any more favors at the hand of one who had already done so much. 0n the following day, when the “ Golden Gate ” turned her head toward the Atlantic, and steamed swiftly toward her distant destina- tion, she carried with her the brothers Inwood, and the colossal African, Jim Tubbs. CHAPTER IV. THE NEW ELDORADO. THERE was a strong attraction which drew George Inwood toward the golden sands of an « g-;c 1. .n The Boy Miners. " California, to which we have not even hinted thus far; but it is high time it received notice. Several years before, when the young stu- dent had just entered college he was descend- ing the Hudson in the ill-fated Henry Clay. On board, he formed the acquaintance of the most engaging young lady he had ever met. Intel- lectual, vivacious and accomplished, he felt strengthened mentally and morally, when he left her presence—a condition far different from that inwhich one is sure to vacate the society of nine-tenths of ti o fashionable women of the present time. A mutual interest sprung up between the two, and everything was progressing delightfully to- ward a tenderer state of feeling, when that well-remembered calamity burst upon the doom- cd steamer. In the confusion and tumult. In- wood, 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 na- tural course, but Inwood had just entered col~ lege, and the next tidings that reached him re- lating to the Underwoods was, that the father, who was uite wealthy, had removed to Cali- fornia, and1 settled quite a distance to the south of San Francisco. After deliberating a long time upon the matter, he addressed a respect- ful but friendly letter to Marian, and then anxiously awaited the reply; but it never came, and concluding that her hand was pre-cngaged he id not repeat his experiment, and did his best to for et er. Absorbe in his studies and reparations for his sacred calling, he succeede , not in forget- ting her, but in preventing her occupying his thoughts so prominently, although this would have been im ssible, had he known that the letter so care uliy 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 con- stant] rrose before him, and he found himself specu ating, at all times of the 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 resi ence, and make her a call—his sub uent course- regarding her to be deter- mine by the reception he received, and her manner toward him. The vo age to Aspinwall was without inci- dent wort y 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 oVerything 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 isl- ands, 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 resented each of them with through tickets to ‘an Francisco, so as to be sure of reaching their destination without fur- ther 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 tern orary lodg- ings, which was done without digiculty, 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 curi- , osity of both was, perhaps, equal, and the day passed rapidly away in gazing at this wonder- in] giant which sprung 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 in- formation 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 call- ing 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 ranch, 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 need- cd. 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 o the ques- tion to think of rocuring these; and, as the best that could be one under the circumstances, he bought a rickety old mule, capable of carry- ing all that could be piled upon his back, and going like a clock when wound up, without row tarding 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 lacing his shoulder against his, and forcing im to swerve from g his course. “ Dat are beast ’ll carry all we‘ve got to c , ’cept ourselves, an’ if thar’s only room for us 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 in age.” , ’ fifiwin, in dis- “ And must we walk?” inquired may. “I do not see how it is to be prevented,” —:.a..;.s.—=..m~¢ my - A v. .‘..r:—.¥.r..~=r.' 21;.” .5 .2” sic..s.-;~r5; ,; - .2: ~ ...-. . Ears"; zine-F? “in-1.3.“ —n . fished up a huge leathern purse so corpulent ’ the other, so that it was supported on the toe - there would come some “ ’casion ” like this. He " was shrewd enough to keep its existence a pro- : before. waiting for the spade of the miner or the rock- 8 i The Boy Miners. replied his brother, as cheerfully as he could i:zglléhy don’t you buy free bosses?” inquired “ For the reason that I have not the funds to do it with. I haven’t enough money left to buy the rest animal in the s ape of a horse, that Wal s the streets of San Francisco.” “ ‘Gyou hain’t, mebbe somebody else has I” “ hat do you mean?” inquired Inwood, in pegexity. I wasn't that a moment of triumph for Jim Tubbs? How cool and deliberate he tried to be, as he ‘shoved his great hands away down in his glantaloons pocket, until it looked as if he were mbling at his shoe-string, and finally that it had very much the appearance of that humble kitchen edible known as the doughnut. “ Dar 1” he said, as he flung it carelessly to- ward the amazed Geor e Inwood, “mebbe dar ain’t nomn’ in datl Me be dat’s all counterfeit; mebbe Mr. Tubbs hain’t been sabin’ up his money dose flve ears! S‘pose you look at dat—p’raps dar ma sumfln’ or other in dar.” Jim eaned back against the column of the Batch, cocked his old wool hat on one side of his sad, shoved both hands down into his pockets, carelessly swung one foot around the ankle of and then, smoking his little black pipe, looke at Inwood as he opened the purse and counted 'out the ellow gold-pieces one after the other, until he finished. _ “How much do on make?” asked Jim, in the same style that e would have inquired the ’time of day, , “Four hundred and seventy dollars. Is this all yours, Jim?” inquired Inwood, hardly com- pre endin the pleasant truth. “Shoul n’t wonder now if I had sumfin' to so. ’bout it.” e 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 found secret until the crisis in their affairs, well knowing that Inwood would have consid- ered that moment of necessity as at hand long And so the three horses were purchased, and a number of articles which the needed. and leavin San Francisco, they too a. southeast direc on toward San Jose, and continuing on in the same course struck a pass in the Coast Range near the with parallel. ' By this time they were far beyond the limits of civilization, and traveling in a wild, savage country, where they occasionally met emi- ts and miners, but more frequently encoun- red red-men and wild beasts. California then, as now, was rapidly filling up, but among the mountains were thousands 0 miles where the foot of white men had never , and where, beyond question, the aurif- erous’ particles lay in glittering masses. only i 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-look- ing 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 halt- ed on a small eminence a short distance away, and gazed down upon the leasant scene. He saw no sign of life a ut the house. Here and there were to be seen one or two men pass- ing hither and thither, over the hills or among the cattle, but the house itself was as stillas death, and the thou ht once occurred to his mind that, perhaps, t e proprietor lay cold and inanimate within those shaded rooms, or, per- haps, Marian herself was stretched in the robes of the tomb. Jim proposed that they should honor the pro~ prietor of this estate by spending the evening with him, but Inwood objected, and the& en- camped in an adjoining iece of wood. 'hen everything had been ma a ready for the night, and the full moon had risen, Inwood left his com anions and sauntered toward the house, his cart throbbing tumultuously with its va- ried emotions. As he walked slowl by he caught the faint notes of a guitar and card a low, sweet voice humminga fami 'ar song. He looked in the direction whence it came, and, through the in- terlacing vines, could faintly detect the form and outline of Marian Underwood. He knew it was her—he reco 'zed the voice, and twice he paused and was a ut to enter the gate; but be checked himself by a painful efiort 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 com- forting conclusion he gave himself. ' In a few days, b patient travelin and pem verance, they reac ed the eastern s o of the Coast Range, and found themselves 11:16 the San Joaquin Valley. where they intended to prose- cute 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 suflered at first for want of food, but they soon overcame this difficulty, and prosecuted their search for gold with greater vigor than ever. The had poor fortune for awhile, but they push reso- lutely forward, and finally came 11 n a small mountain stream, which contain an abun- dance of the shining particles among the sands. Here they would have pitched their tents, had they not accidentally discovered a remarkable splitting powder of the blaster. cave, which answered their pwose so well that they carried everything thin, and at ,3. . . V The Boy Miners. I 9 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 them- selves 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 {hereegook place our readers have already earn . CHAPTER V. WATCHING AND WORKING. ' THE cave which oifered such an opportune retreat to Jim Tubbs and the Inwoods, was one of those natural formations which are occasion- ally found,‘and which have more the a pear- ance of being the handiwork of some s illful architect than of nature. A narrow ssage, sufficient to admit an ordinary-size 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 subter- ranean dwelling was, that during rainy weather, it required extreme care to prevent it 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 Inwoodmade his reconnoissance, after the departure of the Mohave Indians, ho was confident of findin some of them dead, or desperate] wounded' ut, to his surprise, he discovers neither. lie was rather leased at this; for he had never slain a human eing, and his teaching and tastes were utterly opposed to it. Be more than expected that, ere 8 would see San Francisco a ain, he would be compel- led to slay some of t a troublesome aborigines in self-defense, but, until absolutely compelled so :13 do, he had resolved to abstain from it alto- ge er. “De next thing, I s’pose, am whedder dem bosses are wisible or inwisible. I ’clines to t’ink dey’re inwisible,” remarked Jim, when inform- ed that the red-men had taken their final de- “They have been undisturbed,” replied ln- wogd. “ I took a look at them before I came “ Bress do 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 trahble to get back ag‘in—carrying dem big piles ob gold.” “ Ah, Jim, we haven’t got that yet—’ “But ain’t we getting it, eh? I s’pose I didn’t et a pocketfull dis berry arternoon, did I?” he emanded indignantly. _ “We have comparatively a small quantity, and there’s no telling when that will give out.’ “ I t’ink it’s gibbin’ out all do time, an’ if it only keeps on gibbin’ out long ’nough, we’ll soon all we’ want.” / I . “I hope we may, but 1 very much doubt 1t; and come to think, I believe we have nothing for supp? . How is that?” ‘ ou’rc 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 (is same time. We ll have to go widout supper, an’ den make up when we get de chance ag’in; dat’s de way I ginerally fixes it. I can go a week widout eatin’ any- thing, but I tells you Jim Tubbs ’gins to feel . holler, an’ he makes meat fly when he git do 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 t’inks 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? J us’ 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 hub to wait now till I come back," said Jim, as he knocked the ashes from his “ takes some time to ’xplainify de science 0 t movement.” With which information, he made his way to i the mouth of the cavern, accompanied at}? George Inwood, who gave him a. parting - monmon: , “ 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 your- selves, an’ don’t let anybod in till you knows who he am. Some ob dem arkies may try dare tricks on you, an’ you can’t be too keerful.” “You needn’t be afraid of my gettin care- less; you’re the one who needs the most a vice.” ' “ Oh, I always keeps dark,” laughed the Afri- can, with which profound witticism, he turned the corner of the cave and disappeared. Inwood waited awhile at the opening of the passagef listening and watching, ut only the murmur o the brook caught his ear and he could see noth- ing but the dark wall 0 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 his1 heart in silent communion with the only One who then saw and heard him. ‘ When he returned, he found his younger bro- ther somewhat apprehensive at his continued absence. “ If the Indians should come down 11 on us when we are so rated,” said Edwin, “ don’t think we won] get off as well as we did to- da .” gNo- if we hadn’t this cave to retreat to we should ave seen trouble. As it is, I am a little anxious about Jim.” “ He'is careless, but he has been very fortu- nate. I never saw anything so strange as that v 53‘. .‘.:‘.~'. .‘1‘.’ s W. .tficaa’? .- I . ';J‘-a“._ ._‘. __ ... - 29:5,» :‘iafi‘%_v=-. . _ HMS“: "xi—'gg‘ n: s. .- I . our way 10 The Boy Miners. which happened to him when We were coming through t e mountains. Don’t you think that was stran%, George?” “Very rovidential, indeed, although I did not see it myself.” “ I did; he was on] a little ways ahead of us, riding along on his orse, when those two In- dians sprung out from behind the trees, not more than twenty yards off, aimed both their guns straight at him, fired, and then ran away.” “And never harmed him?” “Never touched him; he said he heard both bullets whistle past his ears.” “It was very singular. but not unaccounta- ble. His color and his size are such as to star— tle 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 a great help to us. I don’t know what we coud 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 shoot, too. We must arrange that, however, so that you can do the hunting for food, while we do the hunting for old!’ 8 “ I am ready to begin at any time, and have wondered wh you haven’t set me at work be- fore,” said E win, with great animation, at the p t of a day’s ramble through the woods. .“ t 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 dan- ger for an old hunter in this part of the coun- ” ‘Not if he is careful, and ou know I would be careful. I should always eep a sharp look- out for, grizzly bears.” “They are dangerous enough, but not so dan erous as the red-men.” “ ut don’t you think they are easily scared?” “That mayall be, and yet it isn’t to be sup- posed that t ey would be much frightened at he 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 et lost, I don’t know how you would ever (1 back again." - “ I should follow up the stream.” “ But do you suppose this is the only stream in the mountains? here are hundreds of such, and you would be a great deal more likely to get upon the wrong than the right one. I men- tion 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 I 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 Jametimes 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 Indiana 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—ni ht, brother." “No; I do not mean to e so—I wish youto understand trul our situation.” “I am sure 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 da'rl or I’ll come de gold trick ober you 1" CHAPTER VI. A SUCCESSFUL CHASE. WHEN Jim Tubbs issued from his subter~ ranean domicile, he was rather too strongly in» clined 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, ac- cordingly, he started straight for the tethering- groun of the horses an mule, to make sure that they had sulfered no disturbance from the marauding Mohaves. “Dat ar’ place whar we put ’em, is de lace (lat I selected, an’ dar’s no danger ob dere ing troubled while dey stay dar,” he muttered, as he walked rapidly along, occasionally ausing to make sure that no one was following him. “ I always understood hosses,” he added, as he approached the vicinity of the dense under- growth. “ 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 mo- ment he was completely stggefled, and stood like one who, from the tang] web of a dream, endeavorstoform the skein of coherent thought. But he speede recovered himself, and was shar enough to comprehend that the animals mus have n abstracted very recently. and were within the possibility of recovery. With a mutterin exclamation of im hence, be dashed he long through the bus as into the open s cc beyond, and stared around. Being at the of the mountains he was also on the edge of a broad valley, and the bright moon- lig 1; gave him quite an extended view over the broken, rocky country. It re uired but one sharp glance of the Afri- can to iscover, about a quarter of a mile dis- tant. the three horses and one mule, making their way amon the bowlders 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 ex- clamation which has been given at the close of :Ee last chapter, he started on a full run after r em. With his usual thoughtlessness, he had come out without his gun, and was now running at his utmost speed, entirely regardless of his r- sonal danger from the hubbub he was creating, and from withdrawing so far. from his base of operations, There was something so singular-in ‘1? ‘ ifiw‘ A - The Boy Miners. 1!. a spectacle of these four animals leisurely trot- ting all over the countr , that he ought to have hes1tated and attempte to explain the matter before venturing after them in this open, bois— terous 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 tlic mule, as to cause no little wonder on the part of the iursuer. I " heats all natnr’ l” he exclaimed, as he struck his foot against a stone, and was almost thrown forward upon his hands and knees. “ Fu’st time I ebber sce’d dat ole mule raise a. trot; split two, free rocks ober his head, smashed all do limbs oil“ a big tree obcr his back, but no use, couldn’t get him ofl‘? 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 noonday. 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 reca ture them. What then was the explanation of t is singular movement? Jim, who had suddenly resumed his running, as_sudden1y paused, for he had discovered some— n . “are, derel if dat don’t beat eberythingl dar’s an Ingin right in among dem bosses, or else dat switch-tailed mare has got six legs—one or t’oder E” It would have reguired a good pair of eyes to notice this curious act, had not the mare refer- red 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 quadru eds, and inciting them to their rapid gait y some outlandish means which seems to come natural to the aborigines, and which, up to this time, had escaped the at- tention of the pursuer. Immediately upon this discovery, Jim broke into a flercer gait than ever "after the fugitives, shouting in his tremendous style: “ Drop that boss, I tell you! Drop that hoss, or I’ll make you!” Inasmuch as it was hardly posible for the marauder to hold up one of the equine speci- mens, if he chose to tumble, it was not exactly clear how he was to obey this command. On the contrary, the animals, including the mule (which, havmg once got up a loping trot, didn’t exactly comprehend how to stop it), increased their speed, and the indescribable whirring bowl with which be accomplished it,rreached the ears of the exasperated pursuer. “ Oh! if I only had a gun!” he muttered, ashe Egg-glen along, “wouldn’t I pepper dem legs for At this juncture, the ground assumed a rougher character, and the animals were com- pelled to deviate to the left to pass a canyon, where the waters raged with such fury that the shrewd Mohave did not attempt to force them into it. Observin this Jim took the hypoth- enuse of the ti'iang e, and went sailing down the course in magnificent style, gainin so rapidly, that he gave utterance to a joyous s out. “ Cl'ar de track, or I’ll run ober you! PS comin’l” This startling intelligence (lid not have the effect expected, and the copper-colored gentle- man eVidently concluded that all was not last, for he still maintained his position between the two horses, and, just then, strikin a fording place, he tumbled them turbulent y in, and, scrambling up the opposite side, renewed the flight in the same admirable fashion. “Dat ’cre beats all natur’!” he exclaimed, in absolute amazement, as he witnessed the ex- ploit. “ Whoeber dreamed dare was so much go in dat mule?” The chase b this time had become interesting- bnt, if the M0 ave had displayed some natural smartness in stampeding the animals, he now found himself at ault so far as re arded the mule; for this character, as he rattle down the canyon with a noise like the charge of cavalry, lost his unnatural gait, and, finding himself back into his natural one, it was impossmle to change it under a furlong, seeing which, the chargin body dashed forward With such a burst of sp , that the Mohave and his bod¥guard were com- elled to leave him behind. ive minutes later, im vaulted like an avalanche upon the saw-like back of the mule. “New, ole fellow," said he, addressin the beast most afi‘ectionately, “show ’em wha you can do.” But the mule didn’t seem angious to obey; for, although his enthusiastic rider thumped his sides with his hu 8 heels until he nearly bounced oil, the beast su sided into a moderate walk, as if he didn’t exactly comprehend the meanin of all this uproar u n his back, and all e orts to change his gait were useless. A man in a great hurry has very little patience, and it took but a little while for J im’s to exhaust itself. “ You want de gold trick coined on you; dat’s what you do, an’ you jes’ wait till I get you home.” Sliding OR 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 im- proved them to the utmost; but the roughness of the ground was against him, and the African gained ragtin. “Ye’d tter drop dem hosses while you got do chance!” he shouted, while he came sweeping down with eat velocit . A few minutes later, e observed a diminu- tion in the speed of the horses, and finally they walked, and then stood still. I' “ 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 quietl to sh away, when he found himself com 1 ed to re inquish hlS prim. ~ Jun staredtll around, but could see nothing \ «w- —-: A “$2.7. v? .1: a1... ism/v”.- ‘é-a. "swam" 2 ' ‘ fig --_.V.. —_-u:n ' a»: small“: us; usax it: ‘.\:Kl m J A.v.....~=:.w-.m-; 3.. y A Leas? ’"e-A ' 22ml? " \ l . right, and. hen. 1,2 The Boy Miners. of him he sought, and concluded, under the cir- cumstances, it was best to make his way back as s oedin as possible. “ t’inks I‘ve run ’nough to ’arn a ride,” he reflected as he put himself astride the back of his own orse, and turned his head homeward; “an”, as dat darky 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 di- rection, Jim was obliged to get off his horse and ress his shoulder against that of the mule, until e 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 endea- voring 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-cared animal would eventually come up with him. It was not long before he struck the canyon, but at a point Where it looked unsafe to cross. Believing himself above the place where he had forded, he turned down its bank in quest of it; but, after going fully a mile, discovered his mistake, an was about turning back, when he caught a glimpse of a broad sheet of water, and suspectedat once that here was a lake into which the stream flowed. As the roaring, compressed canyon 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 canyon 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 a )pearance of “liquid silver”-—-an expression y 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 ap ear- ance of a bou net, and would have remin ed a traveler of the amous Lakes of Killarney. Jim noticed that the opposite shore was rocky ll 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 (lat would be for George to build a house. I t’ink we could run a bridge ’cross to de land, or hab a ferr -boat to run atween it an’ de shore. ““ ullo! dere goes somebody,” he added, as he sawacanoe ut out from the shoreto his 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 imielled 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 bod never seemed to Incline a hair’s breadth to t e right or left. The flash of the paddle seemed born or the paddle Itself, as o 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 re— mains motionless. The canoe sped forward without the least sound, but instead of haltin at the island, Jim observed that it passed behind it, and immediately disappeared. The African now drove his horse into the water, and crossed without difficult . As he came out, he halteda moment to ta {e 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 hight of five or six feet, and then vibrate back and forth, as though held by a hand which oscil- lated from right to left. While he sat amazed, a. second flame, precise- ly similar, arose from another point of the island, and then another, and another, until fully half a dozen were visible, every one issuin from that portion of the island which touched the edge of the water. It was indeed a small representation of what Magellan, the great cir- cumnavigator, saw in 1520, when he sailed by Terra del Fucgo. “ 1 t’inks it‘s ’bout time Mr. Tubbs left dese parts,” chattered Jim, as with a shiver of her- ror, he started his horses homeward. CHAPTER VII. JIM had one but a short distance, when, still fascinated y 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, an'l did not pause until he was far beyond sight of the lake and its Enchanted Island. . The negro rode a considerable distance, when, as obfcts around him began to wear a singular look, 0 drew his animals down to a walk, and,on the edge of a rocky grove of small trees cameto a dead halt. “ Dis yere looks strange! I disreinember dose trees; I’s afcerd Mr. Tubbs is off de track, an’ how”is he gwine to git on ag’in, am dc ques- tion. The country through which he was journey- ing, was a broad valley, interspersed with streams and canyons trees and open spaces, and huge bowlders 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 desolated tract, it was notto be supposed that he entertained a very Vivid re- collection 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 W0111d eventually lead mm to the neighborhood, of the cave. The Boy Miners. A 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 ior some landmarks which could be recognized. Discov- ering none, and it being well on toward nlid- night, be 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 awak- ened in a manner which brought a howl of ter- ror from him. Some crushing weight descended u )0!) his foot, and, starting up, he gazed about im for the cause. It proved nothingr less than the bag- gage mule so he uently referred to, which, in ‘ournc ing straig tforward in the path which e had on started upon, had thus come directly upon the sleeping African. “ What I" he s outed, 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 in self right afore you. Shouldn’t wonder now i you was on do right track; leastways we’ll try you.” The mule was fired u , and, as it moved on again, the negro followe< on the back of his own horse. To his great sur )rise and gratification, he had gone but a short istance when he caught sight of a. small clump of trees which he recogniz- ed 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 con- vinced that he was on the right track and would rejoin his friends in the course of an our. Beyond that spot all was familiar, and he ad- vanced without hesitation or lnisgiving. Reach- in the point where their animals had been te ered. he drew 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 sud- denly occurred to him, as he recalled the previ- ous 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 abori- gines to conceal themselves along the banks and rush upon and secure him before he could help himself. I 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 q uiet—nothing moving exce t the stream, and that made scarcely a ripp e as it glided over its sandy bed. Jim was standing in this apprehensive state when a slight noise in the rear startled him. Taming his alarmed gaze, he expected to behold a whole troop of ainted red-men about to swoop down upon him: at, in the place of that, recog- the smiling face of young Edwin Inwood. “ Brass Ins, but you scart dis chile dat time I” Said Jim, his teeth fairly chattering at the re- membrance or his shock. 13 “ I threw a stone to let you know I was near; I didn't mean to frighten you." “ It wasn’t do stone dat scnrt me, it was de thought dat I t’ink it was sundin’ else. Whar’s George?” “ Inside the cave.” “ Had breakfast?” “ N 0; we were just goingto prepare it. Here he comes!” . At this moment George Inwood made his ap- pearance above-ground, and he greeted the ne— gro with great gladmss. The latter soon gave an account of his pursuit and capture of the horses, and his safe retum With them. “ You have done very well. Jim, especially when we remember that you had no gun wit 31 ill. There are few men who would have dared to do so, even “‘hen fully armed.” “ But, dat ain’t all,” added the colored man, as he heaved a great sigh. “ I seen do most awfulest t’ing 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 do last time, what do you s’pose I seen? \Vhy, I seen dat island rise up, flap its wings, an’ 11 awa 1” “There, Jim, that’s a htt 0 too much,” laugh- ed the elder Inwood. “ \Vhen it [lapped its wings didn’t it also crow?” asked Edwin, whose interest in the nar- rative was turned into equally intense amuse- ment at this culmination. “You folks can laugh,” retorted Jim, indig- nantly, “but wait till on see what I did, an’ de shivers will run all 0 war you.” “ It may be possible that it was a mirage,” said George, somewhat impressed by the earn- cst manner of his sable friend. ‘ “ A mirage by moonlight?” in( uired Edwin. “ Such things have been hear of, I believe, although very rarely.” “ What’s a mirage 3’” inquired Jim. By great pemweranee, George succeeded in giving Jim a sort of an idea of what he meant, although in all probability he would have re- garded the mirage itself equally mysterious and wonderful as the bodily mat of a bona-flde 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 under- takes to explainit'y it to you.” “ Perhaps we shall have the opportunity, as I have concluded to leave these quarters.” “ What far?” “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.” _ “QXVhat ob datl Didn’t dey do it last eben- mg. . ‘ “ Yes,and providentially we were able to drive them off; but you can see that if a hundred of them Were to come down here, they could keep us in the cave until we died of thirst and starva- tion, 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 - ; 14 The Boy Miners. | about the howl. This, instead of being bare, with the long, wiry black hair stained and ornamented with eagle—feathch (as is the cus- tom of the Mohnvcs and Apaches), was sur- behind. The supply has about run out. You remember that we had a small lot e(yesterday. The reason was that we had gather about all there was, and so you see there is nothing to a”. .r “>3.” ,. 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