Read Boy Scouts in the Rockies; Or, The Secret of the Hidden Silver Mine Page 2


  CHAPTER II.

  TIDINGS OF THE LOST MINE.

  "Help! help! Smithy's tumbled over the edge of the precipice!"

  That was Step Hen shouting. He had happened to be the nearest one to theunfortunate scout, when Mike gave the other an impatient shove with hisnose, that made Smithy lose his balance, and topple over the brink.

  Thad never lost a second, but went on the jump toward the spot wherethe stubborn jack stood, with his sturdy little legs braced likesteel, as though determined not to be pulled over just because Smithyhad stepped off the trail.

  Reaching the spot, Thad threw himself down on his face. He could peerover the edge, and see the dangling scout. Smithy was squirming at atremendous rate, doubtless terrified at the sudden mishap that hadovertaken him, and which came when he was dreaming of other things.

  "Stop wriggling that way, Smithy!" called the patrol leader; "it won'tdo any good, and may shake the rope loose from your wrist! Here, tryand get hold with your other hand; and grip it good and fast. We'llhave you up in a jiffy, never fear!"

  "Oh! Thad!" gasped the poor fellow, whose face was as white as chalkwhen he turned it appealingly upward; nevertheless Smithy had learnedthe quality of obedience, and particularly when he heard the actingscoutmaster speak; so that almost mechanically he groped around with hisfree hand until his fingers came in contact with the taut rope, whenthey closed upon it tenaciously; just as a drowning man will cling tothe first thing he clutches that seems to hold out a single ray of hope.

  "Let me help," said a quiet voice close to Thad's ear; and he knewthat it was Allan who spoke--Allan, always self-possessed and cool,even in the most trying conditions.

  Thad was only too glad to have an assistant, for he could never havelifted the imperiled lad alone, since Smithy was no light weight; anddid not know enough to help himself by digging the toes of his bootsinto crevices of the rocks, so as to ease the terrific strain on hisarms.

  "Hold on tight, Smithy; it's all right, and you're not going to fall,understand that now. So, up you come, my boy! Another pull like that,and we'll sure have you on deck again. Easy now with that rope backthere; Step Hen, hold to the mule, and keep him quiet, will you?"

  Thad said all this in a reassuring, matter-of-fact tone, that wasbetter calculated to put confidence into the faint heart of Smithythan anything else could. Step Hen and Davy Jones caught hold of theobstreperous Mike, almost frantic because of these strangecarryings-on, and held him tight, so that he might not interfere withthe critical work of rescue.

  And so Smithy was finally pulled over the edge. Once Thad managed tosecure a grip of the collar of his scout coat, he knew everything wasserene, for that khaki cloth was firm and sound, and capable ofbearing almost any strain.

  The rescued scout sprawled on the shelf, panting hard. His face wasstill ghastly white, for Smithy lacked greatly in fortitude, andneeded building up as much as the other tenderfoot, Bumpus, had,before his adventures in the big timber, that had gone so far to raisehim in the estimation of his chums.

  "Whew! that was a close shave!" exclaimed Giraffe, from the rear,where he had been holding on the other mule with more or lessdifficulty; because, when Molly discovered that her mate was in somesort of panic, she also wanted to frisk around, and cut up, after theway of mules in general.

  Step Hen and Davy Jones were poking their heads over the edge, curiousto know just what Smithy had been saved from. The former turned, andgrinned.

  "Guess you might have been bruised some, Smithy, if you'd gone ondown;" he remarked; "but there's a big shelf that was waiting to grabyou, just five feet under your toes. But as you didn't know that, andthought the drop was half a mile, more or less, I don't blame you forfeeling shaky about it."

  Smithy recovered sufficiently to insist on crawling to the edge, andalso peering over. When he really found that what Step Hen said wasthe truth, it seemed to annoy him, strange to say.

  "Now, isn't that provoking," he declared, in his precise way oftalking that he had learned from his maiden aunts; "why, if I had onlybeen aware of that circumstance, what an amount of mental suffering itwould have saved me. When a fellow gets such a fright as that, helikes to know that it was worth while."

  The journey was soon resumed; but Thad saw to it that some one elsebesides Smithy held the leading rope of the tricky Mike. Perhaps themule might never afterwards try the same game; and then again he wasliable to break out in a new direction; for there was a little demonin that wicked eye of his, Thad thought.

  Already they were on the downward grade. By the time night arrived,the guide hoped they would have reached the lower canyons, where acamp might be made. All of the boys were really tired of climbingabout among so many dangerous narrow paths, and would welcome thecoming of the time when they could move around without constant dangerof being dashed to death over some precipice.

  None of them claimed to be born mountain climbers. They preferred totake their fun in some other way.

  When the route changed somewhat in its character, so that the littleparty could gather more together, an animated conversation broke out.The guide was fairly flooded with questions concerning the country,and what he knew about its past.

  "I've been all through here many's the time," Toby declared, waving ahand to cover the surroundings generally. "And some other fellers,they've jest been fairly hauntin' these regions in years past; but'twa'n't any use; for they never could find that old mine again."

  "What's that?" demanded Step Hen, scenting an interesting item, for hewas always on the look-out for such things as seemed to promise atouch of mystery.

  "A mine; what kind was it, Toby; who lost it; and why haven't they beenable to find it any more?" asked Giraffe, eagerly; while Bumpus crowdedcloser, for he had a little mercenary streak in his make-up, and waskeen to discover a chance to lay by another store of hard cash, thatmight insure a succession of glorious outings for the Silver Foxes.

  The guide seemed nothing loth to tell what little he knew.

  "Why, you see, thar was a man named Rawson--met him lots of timesmyself; and one time after he'd been pokin' about in this section,prospectin', he came to Greeley with his pockets just bulgin' out withthe richest silver ore ever seen. All he'd say was he'd struck a lodethat was mighty nigh the pure stuff. Then he went away, to try an' getup a company to work his mine, they sez, an' he never kim back. Nobodynever knowed whatever became of Rawson; but heaps of folks has huntedhigh an' low to find his rich mine. Why, thar was that old miner,Kunnel John Kracker, I jest reckon he spent as much as four monthsseveral times up around here, pokin' into the most unlikely places youever heard tell of. They sez as how he was so dead sot on findin' thatsame lost silver mine, that he near went dippy over it."

  "And nobody has ever managed to locate it again, since that day somany years ago; is that what you mean, Toby?" asked Thad.

  "So she seems, Mr. Scout Master," replied the other, who always gaveThad this full appellation when addressing him.

  "Bumpus, what in the wide world are you chuckling at, back there?"demanded Davy Jones.

  "Don't you know Bumpus enough," laughed Allan, "to guess that already hesees the wonderful Silver Foxes discovering that lost silver mine, andjust grabbing handfuls of cash right out of it, to pay the expenses ofthe next trip--where's it going to be another time, Bumpus; down to thegulf, cruising; or along the Mexican border; for you know scouts shouldnever go outside the borders of their own country?"

  "Well, why not?" demanded the fat boy, defiantly; "look back at thestunts we've carried through so far, and tell me if it would be sovery strange if we just happened to drop in on this old hidden mine ofthe Rockies? Luck camps on the trail of the Silver Fox Patrol everytime; and I'm ready to shake hands with anything that needs clearingup. You just wait, and see if I'm so far off, that's all."

  "And just to think of his name being John Kracker; now, what boy couldever keep from twisting that around, and calling him a cracker-jack?"chuckled Giraffe.

  "That's a good one
, all right," declared the guide, laughing heartily;"and I'm some surprised, I am, that nobody ever thought to put thatsame on the kunnel afore this. I wish you could aseen him, boys. Why,he's as fat as--er----"

  "You needn't look at me that way, Toby," burst out Bumpus, instantly,for he was more or less touchy with respect to his size. "I'm taperin'down right along these days. Why, I don't reckon I weigh within threepounds as much as I did when we said good-bye to Cranford."

  "And you lost all of that the time you walked and walked for days,huntin' for your bear!" put in Davy Jones.

  "Well, I got him, all right, didn't I, tell me that?" asked Bumpus,proudly, as he patted the double-barreled ten gauge Marlin shotgun,which he insisted on carrying across his shoulder, while most of theothers were satisfied to secure their guns to the pack saddles.

  "You sure did," replied Davy, willing to give honor where honor was due.

  "I was jest agoin' to say, the kunnel, he's as fat as all get-out,"Toby went on, a twinkle in his eye telling how much he really enjoyedthese little skirmishes between some of his charges. "But all thesame, he's the most energetic critter you ever seen. And temper, say,he's gettin' as red in the face as a turkey buzzard, struttin' aroundwith a chip on its wing, ready for a fight. I 'spect some day thekunnel, he'll jest blow up, and disappear in a cloud of steam. Andp'raps after all you might git a chanct to set eyes on him yet;because I heard down at Greeley, last time I was thar, that he'dpassed through with a couple of fellers, and packs; so it looked likehe meant to give that pesky lost mine another whirl, makin' p'raps thefourth time he's been up thisaways."

  "Glad to hear it," spoke up Bumpus. "Makes it more interesting to knowthat he's still got some faith in the story of the lost Rawson mine.But I'm real sorry for Colonel Kracker, because he's a back numbersince the Foxes have come to town. If he knows what's good for himhe'll go away back and sit down."

  "It's refreshing just to hear you say that, Bumpus," declared Allan.

  "He's just talking for the fun of hearin' himself, that's what?"grumbled Step Hen. "What sort of chance would we have, a lot ofgreenhorns who never yet saw a silver mine; against an old-timer likehim? For one I'm not going to take any sort of stock in the yarn. Likeas not it's just one of the thousands of lies that are circulated allthrough the mining regions. Why, I've heard that there are just anyamount of wonderful lost mines that never existed, my dad says, exceptin the mind of some crank. And my dad ought to know, because he ownsstock in heaps of mines that was salted dreadful, just to sell toinnocent people in the East."

  "About this Rawson who was said to have found the silver lode that wasnearly pure," Thad remarked, wishing to pick up more information;"what sort of a man was he, Toby--you said you used to know him once,I believe?"

  "A pretty fair an' square sort of a prospector; and they sez as how hewas that tickled over his rich find, sayin' that now his fambly couldenjy some of the comforts o' life. Seems like his fust thought was'bout them. But I never knowed whar he lived, except that it wassomewhar down in Utah among the Mormons; though to be sure he wasn'tbelongin' to the plural wife colony, not much. Seemed to think all theworld 'bout the one wife, and the children he'd got."

  "Then it's too bad poor Rawson never lived to profit by hisdiscovery," went on the scoutmaster. "If he'd only been able to handthe key to his find over to his family, they might long ago have comein for a fair share of the profits of the lode. Well, Bumpus, if, asyou seem to believe, in that stubborn way of yours, that the Foxes arejust _bound_ to tumble into this lost mine, we'll remember, boys, tohunt up the family of Rawson, and let them share in our luck. And now,as the afternoon is getting along, we'd better be thinking ofhurrying, if we hope to camp in the valley this coming night."

  They made a little spurt, though it was always next to impossible tohurry those two independent pack animals, as contrary by nature asanything could be. Step Hen indeed declared they would do well toturn the animals around, and _pretend_ to want to go in the otherdirection; when Mike and Molly would keep on backing until they hadreached the valley below in good style.

  The sun was of course out of sight behind the mountainous wallstanding like a great barrier in the west, when the little company ofscouts finally reached the base of the eastern ridge.

  "Thar's a hunky camp site jest over beyond that bunch of trees, boys;"the guide announced; "plenty of good drinkin' water for man, an' beasttoo. So let's head that way. Reckon you-all must be some tired withthat long trip in acrost the range."

  Five minutes later, and they drew up at the spot, which Thadimmediately saw was just the place for pilgrims to pass a night.

  "Hello! there's been a fire here!" exclaimed Giraffe, always on thelookout for anything that pertained to a blaze; for he was thegreatest fire worshipper ever known.

  The guide flung himself down beside the ashes, and felt of them; whilethe scouts waited to hear what his report would be.

  "Somebody camped here jest last night," declared the forest ranger,quickly; "and like as not 'twar that ole Kunnel Kracker an' his party,bound to comb these mountains onct more, lookin' for the lost silvermine!"