CHAPTER V.
IN A MINING CAMP.
"More like a tunnel with a porch to it, I should say," said John, asthey approached the "dug-out."
Indeed, the Worths' new home was an unprepossessing abode even after thefamiliar furniture was in position, the bunks made ready for use, and afire built in the fireplace.
As its name showed, it was merely a hole or tunnel in the slope of thehill, with a small log house built out from it. But though it was notluxurious, it was warm in winter and cool in summer, the earthprotecting it from extremes of both heat and cold. The bare groundpacked hard served for a floor, and the fireplace was set far back inthe underground portion of the room, its smoke outlet being a chimney ofsod projecting through the roof.
Into this new and strange dwelling the household goods were carried, afire was built, and in a short while the place began to assume theappearance of a home. While this was being done, the men looked up theirown habitations, and found that other dug-outs, not so large or wellfinished, but fairly comfortable, were all ready for occupancy. The minehad been opened already, and the workmen had previously constructedthese huts, half caves, half houses, for themselves and for the "boss's"family.
It was all a new experience for the boys, and they investigatedeverything with great interest. The idea of living in a hole in theground struck them for quite a while as very funny, and they made jokeswithout end about it to each other.
The wagons had been placed in the wide creek "bottom"--the space cut outof the bank by the current, which had since retreated to its presentnarrower channel. This "bottom," for years and years the stream's bed,was well supplied with rich alluvial soil, and was in consequenceluxuriantly covered with fresh grass and vegetation of all kinds.
"I tell you, Jack," called Ben, when the boys scrambled down the steeppath to the creek, "this is something like. Why, I can see bottom--and Ideclare, if I didn't see a fish sneak out of that rooty place there."
He hopped on one foot and then on the other in his excitement, andthen, somehow--neither he nor John could ever explain it--he suddenlyfound himself splashing in the clear stream. John caught hold of hisheels and dragged him out face down. His head had scraped the softbottom and his nose had made a beautiful furrow in the mud.
"What were you trying to do?" inquired John, as soon as he could get hisbreath. "Catch the fish in your mouth?"
When Ben turned, spitting mud and digging it out of his nostrils, Johnalmost exploded with laughter. "Maybe you think it's funny," spurted theyounger boy, "but wait till you come to make a mud scow of yourself;then you won't laugh quite so much."
John struggled to suppress his mirth, and after a while succeeded--aslong as his brother's mud-be-plastered visage was not in sight.
Instantaneous sketches of the positions in slipping anddiving.]
Face washed and good humor restored, the boys wandered further down thestream on a trip of discovery. New delights opened at every turn. A mileor so below the camp a beaver dam was found, and as they drew near, oneof those clever, industrious little beasts shot down the slide they hadconstructed, with a _kerflop_ into the pool. Here was sport indeed. Theboys wondered how many of the curious animals the brown, mud-plastered,dome-shaped houses contained. The doors to these houses were underwater, and only the second story was above its level.
"I tell you what," said John, "we'll have to catch some of thosebeggars. Their skins are worth money." And so they vowed to remember thespot and capture some of the inhabitants of this semi-submarine village.
A little further along they came to a clearly marked path, the edge ofwhich (the centre was beaten hard) was indented with small hoof printsof deer and antelope. They saw, too, the cushioned print of the greatprairie wolf. Evidently this was the haunt of game of all kinds.
On the way back the boys had little leisure to examine the paradise theyhad discovered, for the sun was sinking fast and they had wanderedfurther than they realized. An inviting pool was noted, however, thatwould serve for a swimming hole, and Ben unhesitatingly dubbed this"plumb bully." John prevented him from plunging into it right away onlyby main force and the reference to his ducking, but he could not keephim from taking off his moccasins and wading in whenever an opportunityoccurred.
As they neared the camp the last rays of the sun glinted down on them.The preparations for the evening meal were in full swing: the clatterof tin dishes mingled with the clatter of tongues, and the smoke pouringfrom the sod chimneys bore a most savory odor that made the boys realizethey were hungry.
"I wish we had a rifle," John was saying. "We could have got one ofthose ducks we saw down the creek for supper."
"Well, I'm going to have one, and a repeater, too," returned Ben. "I'llhave one if I----"
"Look out!" yelled his brother, interrupting him. At the same moment hejumped to his side and pulled him violently back. Ben almost fell, buthis brother held him up and dragged him still further.
"Look!" he said, breathless with excitement.
Ben's eyes followed the direction of his pointing finger. There in thetrail on which they had been walking, on the exact spot where he hadbeen about to plant his bare foot, lay a big diamond-backed rattler,asleep in the last rays of the setting sun.
"Phew! that was a close call," exclaimed John. "You want to keep a sharplookout when you go barefoot. I can't watch out for you all the time."
The younger boy, pretty badly scared, put on his moccasins without delayand kept his eyes on the trail after that. The rest of the way wascovered in almost absolute silence, for the escape had been a narrowone, and both were sobered by it.
The plain, wholesome supper over, the boys were glad enough to turn in,and though the bunks were anything but soft and the surroundingsunfamiliar, the exertions of the day before and the hardships of thenight preceding it put them to sleep in short order.
It was not long before the whole camp was wrapped in slumber. The stockhad been allowed to run free, it being well known that they would notstray far from the good feed that the creek bottom afforded. All wassilent without and only the heavy breathing of the sleepers disturbedthe quiet within. "Spuds," the dog, from time to time growled and barkedinwardly as he dreamed of a fierce chase after a gopher or jack rabbit.At last even he subsided.
This absolute quiet was presently disturbed by a howl,--long, wailing,and dreadful,--that sounded through the low roof as if the thing thatcaused it must be in the room itself. Ben jumped up so suddenly that hestruck his head on his brother's bunk above him.
"What's that?" he cried, shaking with fear at a sound he could notexplain. John, his head stuck out of the berth above, was frightenedhimself, and could not explain the noise.
Again the fearful wail came, this time not so distinct, but quite asawe-inspiring. The boys drew a long breath of relief when their fathergot up, took the rifle from the two pegs that supported it, and went tothe door. His evident calmness reassured them. As he reached the doorand fumbled with the latch, John and Ben heard a soft but rapid patterof feet and then his muttered exclamation:
"Plague take those pesky wolves, howling at a man's door in the dead ofnight."
So the boys made acquaintance with the great, gray prairie wolf at closequarters the first night of their stay afar from civilization.
In a few days the men were in full swing at the work for which they hadcome to this point. The boys were too young to take part in the miningoperations, but even they had their chores to perform at certain timesof the day, after which they were at liberty to do much as they pleased,within certain well-known limits. Their first duty on being wakenedbetween four and five was to round up the stock and drive it in. Thiswas not such easy work as it sounds. The journey in search of theanimals was long, and was made on an empty stomach in the cold, rawmorning air. Even when they were found, it was difficult to get themmoving towards the camp. The animals seemed at times to be endowed withdiabolical perversity, and would resist all efforts to start themrunning in the right direction. The mule
s and horses once corraled, theboys had an appetite for breakfast that a dyspeptic would give a fortuneto acquire. After that hearty meal the brothers supplied the camp withwood and water and did what odd jobs were required about the home. Thiscompleted their work for the time.
After these duties were performed one morning, John and Ben bethoughtthem of the beaver village, and their spirits rose in anticipation ofthe sport. A full trapper's outfit had been brought to the camp. Theygot this out and made up a pack containing several steel traps (havingstrong jaws armed with sharp teeth and set off by pressure of theanimal's foot on the trigger plate), an axe, some fishing line andtackle in case a good pool was encountered, the always present revolversand ammunition, and a small store of food.
Though it was their first experience in trapping beaver, the boys werewell versed in the theory of the business; they had never let anopportunity go by to learn all they could about such sport. So theystarted with a fair knowledge at least of the habits and ways of thebeaver whom they were to outwit. Their journey down to the dam led themalong the creek, and they noted several inviting pools where bullheadsand trout were likely to lurk, planning to come back and try to catch astring after they had set their traps.
Reaching the dam, they set to work. John being the elder, at once tookcommand of the expedition. "You chop down some brush," he ordered,"while I go over and punch a few holes in the dam. These little beggarsknow a thing or two and won't run into an uncovered trap."
"What do you want to cut down brush for?" questioned Ben, as heshouldered the axe and prepared to obey.
"Why, you see, when I break the dam the water will rush out and show upthe entrance to the houses; then after we go away the beaver will get towork to build it up again, and will go for the brush you have choppeddown and get caught in the traps we will set in it. See?"
Ben's eyes danced at the prospect, and he raced off to do his part.
The boys were soon out of sight of each other, and John busied himselfon the top of the dam with a strong stick, poking holes ruthlesslythrough it. He found it firmer than he had expected, and it took allhis strength and skill to tear it open. He pushed his stick invertically, in order to get a good purchase, and, encountering anunexpected obstacle, put his whole weight into the thrust. All of asudden the obstruction gave away, the stick sank down till his handsstruck the ground, he lost his balance and fell headlong into the deeppart of the stream.
The water was well over his head, and after a few minutes' struggling,he began to realize that he was in a nasty situation. The dam wascomposed mostly of slippery mud, which gave him no hold, and burdened byhis soaked clothing, he could not swim to the bank. The water was icycold, and he felt almost numb at once. He called to Ben, but could notmake him hear. Then he sank beneath the surface.
Again he went down, but he kept his presence of mind and struggled withmight and main to gain a foothold on the slimy slope. In spite of hisefforts to keep on top, he sank a third time, but this time barely belowthe level of his eyes. His work on the dam had accomplished its purposeand the water was rushing out through a leak, so that the depth wasdecreasing every minute. He realized that if he could keep up a littlelonger he would be all right.
Again he sank, too tired to do more, but this time was able to keep hismouth above water by standing on tiptoe and stretching his neck to itsfullest extent.
Before long the water had receded so much that he could wade ashore,though at times his feet slipped into holes that let him down until hewas entirely under water. Reaching the bank, he dragged himself up andlay down flat, for the time quite exhausted.
He was more breathless than hurt, however, and in a short time was ableto get up and crawl over to a sunny spot.
Ben came up presently and was inclined to joke with his brother on hismishap; but after John had told his story he took it more seriously.
The boys noted with satisfaction that the water was now so low that thesubmerged entrances to the beaver houses were visible. They thereforehastened to place their traps in the brush that Ben had cut. They thenmoved up the creek to the fishing hole they had noted, to awaitdevelopments and at the same time try their luck at fishing. Ben tookthe line while John stripped off his water-soaked clothes, hung them upto dry, and then lay down in a warm sunny spot. It was late in the fall,and the wind proved too searching for comfort in this condition, so afire was built, by which he dried and warmed himself.
The fish were hungry and bit early and often, with the result that thepile of bullheads and trout on the bank was soon a goodly sight tobehold. A few of them John cleaned and hung over the fire with a forkedstick. The meal which followed was enjoyed to the full, and by the timeit was finished John's wet clothes were fairly dry. Ben was for lookingafter the traps right away, but his brother's more experienced counselprevailed, and they agreed to visit them at the earliest opportunity thefollowing morning.
The first minute after the next morning's work was finished they hurriedto the scene of John's accident. After considerable searching (for theyhad neglected to chain the traps fast to a log) they found one. In itwas a beaver's foot, well provided with claws for digging, and gnawedoff clean above the joint. The brave little beast had cut off his ownleg to save his life.
Beaver Chip.]
"Well, I'm jiggered," said Ben. "If that don't beat all. Don't you wishyou had come back when I wanted you to?"
"No; the beaver didn't show up till after dark, probably. Besides, thereare three other traps, and there must be something in 'em or they wouldbe where we left 'em."
They searched and searched and called each other names because of theircarelessness in not making the traps fast. Finally they bethought themof the possibility of the little animals' dragging the cruel steel jawswith them to their houses, which, instinct would teach them, were theironly safe refuges.
Sure enough, there were two of them dead, drowned at their own door; thethird was alive and full of energy. Timid usually, the beaver whencaught or brought to bay will fight courageously. Ben stooped to dragthe trap and its captive out, but drew back so suddenly that his headstruck John, who was also leaning over, a scientific blow on the nose.That maltreated and indignant organ began to bleed freely, and it didnot console John to any great degree to learn that the little beast hadturned on Ben and that he had come within an ace of having a fingerbitten off by its long yellow teeth. He was so alarmed at this savagepugnacity that, without paying any attention to the rap he had givenJohn, he still retreated, keeping his eyes on the hole. This wasneedless, however, for the animal was hopelessly entangled. A shot fromJohn's revolver soon put the little creature out of its misery andenabled them to drag it out without danger.
They returned to camp, triumphantly bearing three splendid beavers. ButJohn held his hand over his swelling nose and fast blackening eyes: hecould afford to accept with equanimity all taunting references to hisinjured member, such as, "Your nose is out of joint," and "What a blacklook you have," for he had turned the tables on Ted, who had laughed athim, calling out: "Sonny, you think you're going on a beaver hunt, butyou're really going on a wild goose chase."
Many more trips did the two boys make to this and other beaver villages,and the pile of salted skins grew to quite respectable proportions bythe time the ice began to form on the creek.
With winter came many added pleasures and some extra work anddiscomfort. Paths to the mine and to water had to be dug in the earlymorning through the snow that had drifted during the night, and thiswork was added to the boys' regular tasks. The drawing of water had nowbecome more difficult, for a hole had to be cut in the ice every time.Gathering wood, too, was not easy, since it was necessary to burrow forit through the white blanket of snow.
THE RIFLE RESTED CLOSELY AGAINST HIS CHEEK. (_Page 99._)]
BEN WENT OVER TO WHERE THE GAME LAY. (_Page 100._)]
One of the men of the camp was a Swede called "Yumping Yim," because ofhis racial inability to pronounce the letter "J." He showed the boys howto make snowshoes o
r skees, long strips of wood curved up at the front,the bottom slightly concave to give a purchase on the crust and preventthem from slipping sideways, the top convex and rising slightly from toeand heel to the centre where the foot rested. The boys soon becameproficient in the use of these and sometimes travelled considerabledistances on them.
Exhilarating trips they were, over the crusted snow, when swift,breathless slides were taken down the hills, and skimming jumps from onelevel to another. It was on one of these trips that John and Ben saw forthe first time a herd of buffalo, their great, brown, closely-packedbodies looking like an undulating sea of fresh earth against thewhiteness of the snow. With them were large numbers of antelope, theseweaker animals profiting by the ability of the powerful buffalo to breakinto the drifts and uncover the scanty herbage.
The boys skimmed back to camp, and soon all the men formed themselvesinto a hunting party. Luck was with them. The whole party crept softlyup, using every bit of cover that could be found. Then there was awhispered consultation, rifles were levelled, Mr. Worth kicked a lump ofsnow as a signal, and five guns barked out together. John and Ben dashedforward in wild excitement to find three antelopes lying dead. Withoutstopping, the hunters pressed on after the flying animals, and bynightfall a row of antelope hung high up against the log portion of thedug-out. Since the boys had no rifles of their own and the familyWinchester was in use, they had to be content with long shots withrevolvers.
During the excitement following one of the volleys, Ben, who hadlingered behind, saw what he thought was a wounded animal. He quicklyraised his pistol and fired. As he did so, the figure rose and stoodupright. It was Charley Green! His winter clothing, like that of theboys, was made of deerskin, his cap of the pelt of the musk-rat--evenhis hands and feet were covered with deerskin soled with buffalo hide.The deception had been complete, all too complete, Charley thought, whenhe heard what a narrow escape he had had. Ben shivered when he realizedwhat might have happened, and registered a mental vow to let any futuredeer get away rather than run the risk of its being deer only in hideand man beneath.
The boys had learned to cut out and make their own winter deer-hideclothing, caps, shirts, mittens, and "packs," or boots, soled withbuffalo hide, hair side in; so they always had plenty to do whenindoors. Most of the days were spent on their skees. They learned manynew things and many ways of getting along under their new conditions.For instance, a snow house had been dug in a big drift which extendedout over the ice-covered creek, and a fire was built inside whichspeedily melted a hole through to the water. It was so much warmer underthe blanket of snow that this did not freeze over. Through it the boysdrew the supply of water and caught many a fine string of fish.
The long winter evenings were spent around the big fireplace, where themen made or patched clothes, told stories, played cards, and smoked. Thecamp was cut off from the world by the miles and miles of deep whitesnow which overspread the land in every direction. There was no dangerfrom Indians, for even they could not move under difficulties soinsurmountable. Wolves nightly came down from the hills and left theirfootprints on the snow about the house, and especially under the row offrozen deer which swung from a high support--the winter supply of meatkilled after freezing weather set in. Both night and day the coyoteshowled and answered each other from the high points round about, withtheir wuh, wuh, wuh-aou-u-u-u-u-wuh-wuh. On moonlight nights the scenefrom the front door was entrancing. The wide, white valley stretched upand down as far as the eye could see, and the reaching white ridges ofsnow and utter silence suggested illimitable distance. When the windblew, the fine snow slid along the encrusted surface, making a noiselike hissing water on a pebbly beach, while the finer particles, risingin the air, created lunar rainbows of surpassing beauty. Here indeed wasloneliness, loveliness, and solemn immensity.
Snap shots.]