To Ernest Wilton, also, it was a matter of gratification to be able to speak freely with a fellow-countrymen, after his recent companionship with half-breeds and Indians; and he was nothing loth to accept the other's overtures towards a friendly chat, to pave the way for future intimacy, such as he saw would probably result between them, should they remain long together, a possibility which recent events clearly prognosticated and which he cordially welcomed.

"Yes, it was a rough journey, with a vengeance," he replied, in answer to the implied question in Mr Rawlings' remark, "such a journey as I certainly never antic.i.p.ated; and my only wonder is, how I accomplished it. But then, you know, over here in the New World--and it is new to me, every inch of it, the more I see of it--they don't measure distances the same as people do in Europe. Why, a degree of lat.i.tude or longitude is less thought of than a furlong by those at home; and, in some of the backwood settlements, neighbours are as far-away from each other as the capital cities of the continent are separated."

"That is true," said Mr Rawlings. "The s.p.a.ce appears so illimitable that one's ideas as to measurement expand in a similar way, and the agriculturists calculate by the square mile instead of the acre in all their estimates of the land. But, about your journey? I'm curious to know what route you took to come from Oregon here."

"You may well ask," replied the young engineer, breaking into a hearty laugh, which was so catching, that Mr Rawlings followed suit, and even Seth thought it inc.u.mbent on him to look back over his shoulder and grin, "for it was, I believe, the most roundabout trip ever planned.

But, in order to understand it properly, you must learn what sort of a party accompanied me. While in California, I got mixed up with all sorts of persons, engaged in companies started to carry out everything under the sun, and even under the earth: scientific men with hobbies, capitalists with money to spend, and speculators with nothing, who wished to enrich themselves from the pockets of the unwary; and, while at a dinner one day in Sacramento, where a lot of directors and shareholders of the Alba Eldorado were enlarging on the good fortune attending mining schemes in general, and their own especial venture in particular, a proposal was made that, as such fabulous reports had been circulated of the Bonanza mine in Montana, some of the surplus capital of the company should be expended in looking after another lode in the same vicinity. The proposal was eagerly accepted, and as I happened to be present I was asked to join the expedition."

"But that was in California," suggested Mr Rawlings, smiling, "and you needn't have gone through all Oregon to get to Montana, surely--eh?"

"Certainly not," said Ernest Wilton; "and that's exactly what I wish to explain. It was all those scientific men with their hobbies that led us such a dance! You see, it was a party of rich people, whose time was at their own disposal, and they could do pretty nearly as they liked. At the very first start, it was arranged that our first point of destination should be the Warm Springs in the centre of Oregon; and so to the Warm Springs we went. I believe the princ.i.p.al capitalist of the party thought they might be utilised for the purposes of a Universal Bath Company, Limited, to 'ablutionise'--that was his word, I a.s.sure you--the whole world."

"Nonsense, you are joking!" said Mr Rawlings, thinking the other was trying to chaff him.

"Not a bit of it--'that's a fact,' as our American friend there would say," replied the young Englishman, nodding in the direction of Seth Allport to show that he had already noticed his p.r.o.nunciation and mode of speech.

"All right," said Mr Rawlings. "I can credit your financier coining the new word ablutionise; but I can't exactly stomach the 'Universal Bath Company' quite! I am an old soldier, however; so proceed, and I promise not to be very much surprised at any of your traveller's tales!"

"Really, I am not exaggerating at all," said Ernest Wilton. "That ignorant purse-proud fellow wished to start a company for almost everything we came across in our route. I need not add that he wasn't an American."

"No, it's only Englishmen that make themselves such fools over here,"

replied Mr Rawlings, heaving a sigh, as if he thought himself one of the number for having anything to do with the Minturne Creek venture.

"If they have any bad points at home, they get them more developed by the pa.s.sage across the ocean. What is the old Latin adage we used to learn at school--eh?"

"'Coelum non animum mutant qui trans mare currunt,'" quoted the young engineer. "'Those who travel abroad may change their scene of action, but can't alter their own minds.'"

"Yes, that's it," replied Mr Rawlings. "But go on with your journey."

"Well," continued the other, "when we had done the Warm Springs, one of the scientific gentlemen, who wanted to make soap cheap, I presume, suggested that the exploring party should proceed to the celebrated Alkali Desert in Idaho, which I daresay you've heard of?"

"I have," answered Mr Rawlings. "It's to the south of the Snake River, just below Boise City and the Salmon River Mountains. My poor cousin Ned was there a year or two prospecting, he told me."

"Indeed!" said the young engineer. "Then I've no doubt you liked the place as little as I did. And as for those Snake Indians, they're the worst lot I ever came across yet."

"They are so," said Mr Rawlings. "Born thieves, every one--at least, I have got Ned's word for it."

"I was grateful to them for one thing, however," said Ernest Wilton, laughing again at the recollection. "They so disgusted our great English company-starting capitalist that he would come no further with us; and we were well rid of his b.u.mptious airs and vulgarity for the rest of the journey."

"I suppose you then came in a bee-line through Wyoming?" said Mr Rawlings.

"Oh dear, no," answered the engineer. "We were doomed to execute a series of right-angled triangles all through our erratic course. From the Alkali Desert--or rather, Three Forks Camp, which was our halting-place--we made for the Rocky Mountains, so as to reach the Yellowstone River on this side. And that was where we had such a terrible time of it."

"I expect so," said Mr Rawlings; "the Rocky Mountains are no joke in winter time, for they are not easy by any means even in summer."

"We lost a lot of animals and nearly all our baggage," continued Ernest Wilton; "so when we got to Virginia City, on the Yellowstone, the majority of our party stopped there. I would have stopped too, I must confess, but a very energetic scientific gentleman suggested our pushing on, to explore some oil wells that were reported to be situated to the south of the Big Horn range."

"I know that place well," said Mr Rawlings eagerly. "The petroleum springs are by Poison Spring Creek, as the Indians call it."

"Do they?" said Ernest Wilton. "We couldn't see any creek at all; and even the scientific gentleman got tired out, and went back to Virginia City to join the others, and recruit, before investigating the mining districts of Montana. I was so sick of the lot, however, that I determined to push on to Bismark, and strike the line of the Northern Pacific, waiting till the spring came before I undertook any further exploring work."

"And that's how you came to us?" said Mr Rawlings.

"Yes. Two of us started to cross the Black Hills from Wyoming, along with the Indians who engaged to guide us. According to the map I had with me, our route would have been to strike the north fork of the Cheyenne River, and follow it up till it emptied itself into the Missouri, when we could have pursued the left bank of the latter due north, until it took us right into the town of Bismark, which is, I believe, the terminus of the railway."

"Bless you! why it runs more than 100 miles farther west already," said Mr Rawlings; "and if you wish still to communicate with your friends, who, I can perceive from your story, there is every reason for you to be pained at your separation from, why, you'll be able to join them in Virginia City itself, in a short trip by the cars from Bismark."

"Thanks," said Ernest Wilton, appreciating the other's sly allusion to those dear companions of his with whom he had so little in keeping. "As I will be within easy reach of them in case of need, I shall be all the better pleased to remain with you, as then I'll have two strings to my bow! But, to finish my narrative:--the weather was so bad after we left the supposed site of the oil wells, that we could make no headway at all; and on our arriving at Fort Phil Kearney, which, to our mortification, was deserted, my solitary white companion, who had accompanied me faithfully so far, turned tail with two of the remaining Indians--of the Crow tribe, of course, rascally fellows, just like the birds from whom they are named!"

"You like those chaps," said Mr Rawlings with a smile, "dearly, eh?"

"I do 'muchly,' as Artemus Ward says," responded Ernest. "I should like to pay them out! But to make a long story short, with the remaining two Indian guides--who only came with me after I promised them a small fortune on my reaching a settlement--I managed to lose my way utterly; and then having lost the guides also, I wandered about hungry and cold until I met your hunters amongst the mountains, when all my troubles were ended."

"Thank goodness they met you!" said Mr Rawlings cordially. "But those Indians must have deserted," he continued musingly. "They are much too knowing to have lost their way."

"Yes, I know it," said Ernest Wilton. "They were afraid of encountering any of the Sioux, who are near you, I think."

"Yes, too close to be pleasant," said Mr Rawlings. "But we have not had any trouble with them yet."

"And I hope you won't at all," responded the other with much heartiness.

"Those Crow Indians with me were continually talking about Red Cloud and Spotted Tail. I think those were the names of the chiefs they mentioned."

"Yes," replied Mr Rawlings, "both have Indian reservations in Dakota."

"Is that so? I thought that might be only their yarring when they said so; but they mentioned those two chiefs in particular, I remember now, and a.s.serted that they intended 'digging up the hatchet,' as they termed it in their euphonious language, as soon as the spring came round!

However, I wouldn't place much credence in their statement, I a.s.sure you. Those Crows are such curs that they would say anything rather than venture 'within measurable distance,' as the phrase goes, of a possible enemy." And Ernest Wilton laughed.

"I have heard some similar rumours myself," said Mr Rawlings more gravely. "The last scout that came here from the township, just before the winter set in regularly, brought word that the Sioux were preparing for the war-path, or something to that effect; and, as the red men themselves say, there is never much smoke without fire. I hope to goodness, though, that it is only rumour! An Indian war is a terrible thing, my boy. I've seen the effects of one, years since, and never forgotten it,"--and Mr Rawlings laid his hand on Ernest Wilton's shoulder, as if to impress his words more strongly. "It wouldn't be pleasant for us here were another to break out now, and we so far from the settlements."

"Isn't there a military station near this of the United States troops?"

asked the young engineer.

"About a hundred miles off, or so," replied Mr Rawlings.

"Oh, that's pretty close for the backwoods!" said Ernest Wilton lightly, as he quickened his steps to join Seth Allport, who had hailed out to the two stragglers to "hurry up," for the "lazy lubbers" that they were; the ex-mate of the _Susan Jane_ having awaited with some considerable impatience, for a rather unconscionable length of time, the end of the interview between the two Englishmen, although he was too good-hearted, and had too much good taste, to interrupt them before he saw that their chat was finished.

STORY ONE, CHAPTER TWELVE.

"LOVE'S LABOUR LOST."

"Now, mister," said Seth Allport, when the young engineer closed-up to his side, "I guess you've seed our location, and you've seed ourselves:--now, see the mine afore you. What d'ye think of it, hey?"

The "location" looked as favourable a one for mining purposes as it was charming to the eye; but appearances are not everything to those who toil beneath the surface of the earth, and so Ernest Wilton well knew.

"What strata have you pa.s.sed through?" asked he of Seth.

"I s'pose yer mean the sile, don't yer?" said Seth Allport.