To The West - Part 47
Library

Part 47

"No," said Gunson, smiling. "The companies follow sometimes. I am a prospector--a searcher for mineral veins and deposits in the mountains.

I was convinced that there was gold up here, and we have just had proof that I am right. That Chinaman you see is bound on a similar mission, for those fellows have a wonderful scent for gold. And you see that those big roughs that he calls Melican men, but who were undoubtedly English, have been up here, and found gold. That is a surprise and an encouragement, and a damping, all in one, for it may mean a regular rush of people up the river. Now do you see why I have kept my counsel so long?"

"Yes," I cried.

"Of course," said Esau; "but why didn't you say so before? You might have trusted us."

"Why didn't you become friendly before, my lad? you might have trusted me."

Esau looked at him comically, and gave one ear a rub.

"Now then," said Gunson, "shall we travel on together in company?"

"Of course," I cried.

"Then the sooner the better. Your way will suit me as well as any, so let's make up our packs, leave the boxes in some one's charge here, and then the word is forward."

Two hours later, under Gunson's directions, we had made a pack each, consisting princ.i.p.ally of provisions, and Gunson in addition had brought out of his case a rifle and ammunition.

"There, Dean," he said, "you may as well shoulder that, and you may as well carry this, Gordon," he continued, taking a small revolver with holster, strap, and cartridge-box. "You are not to use it except in a case of the most extreme urgency. Strap it on, my lad. It looks formidable, and the possession of such a weapon will often keep off danger."

"What Quong cally?" said that gentleman when we were ready.

"Nothing," said Gunson, shortly; "you don't go our way."

"Yes, go allee same way 'long libber. No other way. Quong cally pack."

"Humph!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Gunson; "if we don't employ him, he'll follow us, so one may as well make him useful. We can easily pay him; it will not mean much. Here, make yourself up a pack."

Quong smiled with pleasure, and taking the blanket Gunson threw him out of his chest, he had it soon full of stores and necessaries, a bag of flour being added to his load.

"Want um fizzlum?" said Quong, suddenly.

"Want what?" I said.

"Fizzlum. Bak.u.m powdum make blead."

"Ah, I had forgotten," said Gunson; and he took a small tin from his box.

An hour later the Indians were paddling slowly back along the river, and after a friendly good-bye from the settler who had taken charge of our boxes, we shouldered our packs, and began to trudge up the river-side, finding it easy going, for we were in quite an open part here, with a gra.s.sy margin for a short distance at the foot of the mountains on one side. But higher up the rocks began to close in the prospect, there was the faint roar of tumbling water, and dense black pine forests clothed the sides of the valley as far as we could see.

Before we had gone very far along the forest track, the perspiration was oozing out fast on my forehead; and lightly as I was loaded, I began to think regretfully of the boat, and of how much easier it was to sit or kneel there, and watch the Indians paddle, while over and over again I had come to the conclusion that it was a very fortunate thing that we were not alone, but backed up by such a tower of strength as Gunson, whose counsels were called in question every few minutes to decide which way we were to go next.

The direction was undoubted, for, so long as we kept to the valley in which the river ran, we could not be wrong, but the task was to keep along it by a way that was pa.s.sable to people carrying loads.

For a mile or so beyond the tiny settlement we had left behind, we found, as we had been told, some traces of a track; but it was wanting more often than present, and several times over we thought we had come to the end of it, only for it to begin again some fifty yards further on.

At last though we had pa.s.sed the final vestige of a trail, and there was the valley before us with the mountains rising up steeply on either side, and our way to make along the steep slope crowded with trees or covered with the _debris_ of great ma.s.ses of rock which had broken from their hold hundreds upon hundreds of yards above us to come thundering down scattering smaller fragments, and forming a chaos of moss-covered pieces, over and in and out among which we had to make our way.

"Rather rough," Gunson said, "but keep up your spirits: it will soon be much better, or much worse."

"It's always like that--worse," Esau grumbled to me at last, as our companion went forward, while the patient little Chinaman plodded on with his load as steadily as if he had been a machine.

"Never mind, Esau," I said.

"I don't," he replied, st.u.r.dily; and he drew himself up, and tramped on with the rifle over his shoulder, evidently very proud of being trusted with it; but he had an unpleasant way of turning sharply round every now and then to look at something, with the result that, after being struck smartly by the barrel of the piece, I had to jump out of his way.

"Beg your pardon," he would say, and a few minutes after forget all about it, and turn the barrel upon me again.

"I say, Esau," I cried, at last, "do be careful with that gun."

"'Tain't a gun--it's a rifle."

"Call it what you like, but don't shoot me."

"Ain't going to," he said, drily. "What's the good? We ain't cannibals. But I say, I wish something nice would come along. I know I could hit it. What would you like--a deer? Deer's very good to eat, isn't it?"

"I suppose so."

"Wonder which is the best place to aim at. His head, I suppose. I should like to bring one down."

"I don't think you'll have a chance, Esau. Besides, we couldn't carry it. We've got as much as we can manage now."

"Ah, but there's another way of carrying meat," said Esau, with a curious c.o.c.k of the eye. "I mean after it's roasted."

"But we are not hungry yet."

"Not hungry!" cried Esau. "Not hungry! Why, what a fellow you are!"

and we trudged on in silence.

After a time Gunson turned round and let us overtake him, laughing the while at our tired and weary looks.

"Loads feel heavy, eh?" he said. "You are not used to them yet. I've been talking to Mr Quong, and he tells me that he is going to hunt about till he finds gold. Then I suppose he'll leave us to ourselves."

We were both too hot and tired to trouble about the Chinaman, and were very glad when, about midday, Gunson called a halt under the shade of a great tree, that grew beside a little brawling stream which came hurrying down from above.

Here we dropped our burdens with a sigh of relief, and partook of some cold bacon and bread, which seemed about the most delicious thing I had ever tasted.

Quong was given a lunch for himself, and he took it aside, ate it quickly, and then, in place of lying down as we did for a good two hours' rest during the heat of the day, he produced a little tin plate and picked his way down to the stream's edge, and then amongst the rocks, till he came upon a patch of gravelly sand over which a few inches of water danced merrily.

Gunson watched him curiously; I did the same, Esau having dropped off to sleep as soon as he had eaten his midday meal.

For it was interesting to see the busy little fellow. His first step was to roll up his sleeves to the elbow, stoop down, and scoop up as much gravel and sand as the tin plate would hold. This he shook about a little under water, brought it all up again, and picked out the stones.

Then he held it down low again and worked it about, and picked out a second batch of much smaller stones. Again he placed the tin beneath the water, where it ran pretty swiftly, and kept up a regular circular motion, which caused the fine dirt and sand to be washed out and pa.s.s over the side, till only a small patch of sand of a coa.r.s.e grain remained on the tin; and at last, as if satisfied with his task, he stepped out on to the dry bank, and held the plate sidewise for the water to drain off. This took some few minutes, the hot sun drying the sand as he turned it about with one finger.

Every movement was performed with the most patient deliberation, and in utter unconsciousness of the fact that we were watching him, both eager to learn the result of his search.

It was a long time before we knew, for Quong turned the sand about over and over again, and then inspected it with a peculiarly magpieish air, before he shook his head, tossed the sand away, and selected another spot in the stream, where he went through the same process, while we lay and watched him till the final examination. This time, just as I fully expected to see him toss out the sand, he rose up with a triumphant look on his yellow face, and caught sight of us. His jaw dropped, and he appeared frightened, but the dread seemed to pa.s.s away, and he came towards us with his tin.

"Me washee gole," he said, excitedly. "Fine gole."