CHAPTER XX.
WATERSPOUTS AND BLIZZARDS.
"Hi! Nellie; get on, there! Strike a trot! We won't get to themountains in seven years, at this gait."
It was Mr. Banta who spoke, and he emphasized his remarks by makingthe whip he carried in his hand crack loudly. The old, white bell-marepricked up her ears and slowly quickened her pace, closely followed byall the pack-mules and horses belonging to the train.
"That old pack-mare knows where we are going as well as we do," saidBanta, squaring around and throwing his leg over the horn of hissaddle so that he could face the two boys whom he was addressing. "Shehas been up here so often that she knows every foot of the way. If weget hard up for deer meat, all we have to do is to take her bell off,and then we can go twenty miles out on the prairie, and she willbring us back home again. You can't get lost if you are on her."
"Why do you take the bell off when you want to go hunting with themare?" asked Julian of Mr. Banta, who, by reason of his age andexperience, acted as leader of the company. "Does the noise of thebell frighten the game?"
"That is one reason," replied Banta; "and the other is, we don't wantall the pack-mules and horses to follow us. Wherever they hear thebell, they will go to it. If we were on the other side of a wideriver, even though it was swimming-deep, and some of these mules don'tlike water any too well, and should sound that bell a few times, theywould all come over. If anything should happen to that old bell-mare,and she should die, we'd send a man on with that bell, and the muleswould follow him wherever he went."
It was Monday morning, and the sun was just rising. The cavalcade hadbeen on its way for two hours, for they left the hotel, amid wishesfor good luck from all who saw them go, at the first peep of day. Theywent directly past the hotel at which Julian and Jack had stopped toeat dinner when they first came there, and were now alone in thefoothills which arose on all sides of them. There were at least adozen miners in the company, and they had all set out for Dutch Flatin the hope of digging up a fortune before the winter's stormsovertook them. Julian and Jack were there, dressed in rough miners'clothing, and the horse which bore their provisions and tools was withthe others who were following the bell-mare.
Anybody could see at a glance that these boys were tenderfeet, andthey did not attempt to deny it. Every other miner had a heavyWinchester slung at his back, while the only firearms the boysexhibited were Smith & Wesson revolvers, which they carried strappedto their waists. They did not look forward to the future with as bravehearts as most of the miners did. They could not get the idea out oftheir minds that the gold they wanted to find was protected bysomething which they did not want to see. The miners now and then castcurious looks at them, to see if they were not afraid of the prospectbefore them, but finally came to the conclusion that the boys were"going through with it." The miners were happy, and sang rude songsand cracked jokes with each other; but the boys were busy with theirown thoughts, and took no part in what was going on around them.
"And I don't blame them, either," said one miner, in a low voice, tohis companion. "I wouldn't take any part in the singing if I were intheir place. They are brave enough now, but wait until they have beenup to that mine about two days; then we will see them at our camp,frightened to death."
"Banta has rather taken them under his care, judging by the way hekeeps watch over them," said the other miner.
"Yes; he was made acquainted with them by some high man in Denver, andso he keeps an eye on them. But he can't go up to their mine withthem. More than that, those ghosts will not stop for him or anybodyelse."
Julian and Jack were not accustomed to being in the saddle fromdaylight until dark, and the ride was long and wearisome to them.They stopped at noon to eat their lunch and to let their animals cropthe grass for a few minutes; but their packs were never removed fromthem until they halted for the night at a place which showed thatthere had been a camp before. Lean-to's were scattered around, partlyunroofed by the storms of winter, and remnants of fires were to beseen; and Banta said that no one had been there since he and his partymade the camp last fall.
"We made this camp while we were going down to the city," said he. "Itwas raining when we stopped here, and that accounts for the lean-to's.We had a waterspout that night, this little stream was filled twentyfeet deep, and some of us began to look wild."
"A waterspout?" queried Jack. "What is that?"
"Why, I don't know that I can describe it so that you can understandit," answered Banta, scratching his head. "It is caused by the largequantity of water that sometimes falls among the hills up-country, andwhen it all rushes into these ravines--well, you can imagine how itlooks, but I cannot describe it. This stream has not much water in itnow--you can step across it anywhere; but I have seen it bank fullfrom rains in the up-country, while there was not a drop of it fellhere. I remember that night. I was sound asleep in a lean-to. I hadtold the boys that before morning we would have to get farther up thebank or run the risk of having some of our things carried off, andabout midnight I awoke with a feeling that there was something goingon. You don't know anything about that, do you? Well, you wait untilyou have acted as guide for two or three mule-trains, and then you'llknow it. Everything depends upon you to see that the train comes outall right.
"I could not go to sleep again when once I woke up, and so I arose andwent out. It was still raining heavily, but the brook didn't show muchsign of it. I placed myself on the edge of the bank, and hardly had Igot there before a long, creamy wave, which extended clear across thisgully, crept with a hissing sound across the sand and rocks.Following with equal speed, and about a hundred feet behind it, wasanother wave, an unbroken mass of water at least five feet in height.It was not rounded into a wave, as at sea or on the lakes, but rosesheer and straight, a perfect wall of water. I knew that in fiveminutes this little creek would be brim full, so I raised a yell andawoke everybody in camp. The men I had with me were all veterans, andthere was no need that I should explain matters. They took just onelook at the water, and then grabbed their things and made a rush forthe high bank behind the lean-to's. After placing them where theywould be safe, they came back and made a rush for the horses. Pete,there, caught the bell-mare, and by dint of pulling and boosting wefinally got them to that level spot you see up there."
Mr. Banta pointed to the bank, which seemed almost as straight as theside of a house, and the boys looked on with perfect astonishment.
"How in the world did you get the mules and horses up there?" inquiredJulian.
"A man can do a heap of things when he is working for his life and forthings that he can't afford to lose," said Banta, with a laugh. "Petehas a heap of strength in those arms of his, and when I get hold of amule's tail and begin to twist it, he goes somewhere as soon as hecan. We got them up easy enough, and there we stayed for two wholedays, until the water had all passed away. We didn't lose so much as apound of bacon. But if I had been asleep, like the rest of the fellowswere, we would have had a time of it; somebody would have had to swimfor his life, and the current ran like lightning, too."
"I did not know you had to look out for water on the plains," remarkedJulian. "Is there anything you don't stand in fear of out here? Yousee, we want to know it all."
"Well, a waterspout is one thing, and a blizzard is the next," saidBanta. "I mean a blizzard where the clouds send down chunks of ice atyou as big as your fist. Oh, you needn't laugh. Look at that."
Banta stripped up his leggings, and showed the boys a long, raggedscar which he had received in one of the commotions of naturereferred to. The wound must have been a dangerous one.
"And the worst of it was, I did not have a doctor look at it for twoweeks," Banta went on. "You see, I was out alone, and making the besttrack I could for the fort. The sky had all along been hazy, and onthis day I had to go across the Twenty-mile desert, where there wasnot a willow-twig big enough for me to get under. When I was abouthalf-way over it began to rain, and in less than an hour afterward theblizzard came a-ripp
ing. My horse and mule were made so frantic by thepelting of the ice that I finally let them go; but before I releasedthe horse I took my knife and cut the saddle and blankets off him.What did I do that for? Because I was too cold to use my fingers. Isettled down there on the prairie, put the saddle and blankets over myhead, and waited for the storm to cease; but before I did that, therecame a big bunch of ice and struck me on the leg. I never had anythinghurt so bad in my life."
"How long did you have to stay there?" asked Jack. "I hear that someof these storms last two or three days."
"This one lasted one day, and I was glad to see the ice quit dropping.I was thirty miles from the fort, and I'll bet I didn't do two milesof walking in all that distance. I left everything except my weaponsand crawled all the way. This is the saddle, right here."
"I should keep that for the good it had done," said Julian. "Yoursaddle probably saved your life."
"It will stay with me while I live," said Banta, casting anaffectionate look upon the article in question. "Now, boys, supposeyou get ready and chop some wood and start the fire. I'll take thethings off the animals and straighten up the lean-to. You boys don'tknow how to make a lean-to, do you? If you take a good look at thisone, you will see how it is done."
There was one satisfaction the boys had in listening to Mr. Banta'sstories--they were true, every word of them. If any of the "boys"tried to make things different from what they were, Banta always shutthem up. That was the reason the boys thought so much of him, andanything he had to say in regard to working their mine was alwayslistened to with the keenest interest.
The change that a few experienced men made in that deserted camp in ashort time was wonderful. Every stroke of the axe counted forsomething, and every step the men made to and from the places they hadchosen to make their beds seemed to count for something else; so thatby the time Julian and Jack had cut wood enough to last them all nightthe lean-to's were covered with fresh boughs, those who did not chooseto sleep under shelter had their beds made up under the protectingbranches of trees, the animals were staked out, and two of the cookswere busy getting supper. It was all done without the least commotion,for each man knew what his duty was.
"If a rain-storm was coming up you couldn't have made this campquicker," said Julian. "It beats the world how soon men can get readyfor the night."
"Yes, but that comes from experience, you know," said Banta. "Do youknow that I have been thinking of something? When we get up to DutchFlat, and you get ready to go up to your mine, I believe I will gowith you."
"That's the best piece of news I have heard for a long time," declaredJulian, who was delighted beyond measure. "We don't ask you to go downin the mine, you understand, but if you will just stay there until weget things fixed you will confer a great favor upon us."
"Yes, I guess I had better see to your wants a little," said Banta."You are tenderfeet, you have never lived alone in the mountains, andperhaps I can tip you a wink now and then that will be of use to you.You will need the mine cleared away--it has all grown up to grass bythis time--and you will need a windlass and a lean-to; and maybe I canbe of assistance."
"I know you can; and of great assistance, too. I tell you, I feeleasier. I have often wondered how that mine looked, and how we weregoing to get it in shape to work it, but I don't worry about it now.We are much obliged to you for your offer."
"Oh, that's all right. I remember that I was a boy myself, and anysuch little help as I have offered you would have been a regularblessing to me. Now let us go and see if supper is ready."
Supper was almost ready, and the neat manner in which it was servedup, and the way it was cooked, told the boys that if the miners couldalways get such food as that, they could work their claims to the bestpossible advantage.
"Can we help you a little?" said Julian to one of the cooks after themeal was over and the man began gathering up the dishes.
"What a-doing?" asked the cook.
"We want to help you wash the dishes," said Julian.
"Why, bless you, that's no trouble. There is only one way you can helpus, and that is by sitting by and looking on. I never yet saw atenderfoot that didn't get in the way. You will have enough of it todo when you get up to that ghost-haunted mine of yours and have tocook your own meals. You had better take my advice," said the cook, ina lower tone, "and stay down on Dutch Flat with us. There are nospirits down there."
"But it is ours, and I don't see why we can't work it," repliedJulian. "If there is anybody there, we will make him show himself."
"You will see," said the cook, going to the camp-fire for a bucket ofwater. "The next time we see you, you will be all ready to go back toDenver."
The cook struck up a whistle as he began washing the dishes, and theboys, taking this as a gentle hint that he would rather be alone,walked off to another fire which had been kindled in the upper end ofthe camp. All the miners were gathered about there, and each one ofthem had a story to tell about some wonderful "find" which he hadalmost struck, and then ceased digging because he was discouraged bythe way the gold "showed up." Banta was there, and after relatingthree or four stories of his own, he began to stretch and yawn asthough he were sleepy, and finally arose and went into his lean-to.The boys followed him, hoping he would say something more about goingup to their mine with them; but he talked on other topics until he gotinto bed, and then he became silent. He had already decided what hewould do when they reached Dutch Flat, and there the matter ended.