CHAPTER II
THE "PIKE'S PEAK LIMITED"
"I'll tell you what I'll do," spoke Terry's father, finally. "I'll lendyou $100--'grub-stake' you, as they say, from the dust that I fetchedback last winter. That's half. And I'm to have half interest in whateveryou find."
"Hum! This sounds like a good business proposition, if you mean it,"accepted Harry, scratching his nose.
"Do you mean it, Dad?" cried Terry, overjoyed. "Supposing we find yourmine. Do we get half of that?"
"That's part yours, anyway. But I don't think you'll find it unoccupied.Doubt if you find it at all. You'll likely meet up with some of theRussell brothers out there, though. You might ask Green Russell orOliver or the doctor if they have any recollection of my being alongwith 'em, one of their Fifty-eighters, by name of Jones, and if theyremember where I got the dust. Yes, I mean it: you and Harry'll needsupplies, and you ought to have a little cash in hand besides."
"But we can go to digging gold, the first day we get there, can't we?"argued Terry.
"You might be a bit awkward and break a pick or shovel, and want a newone," remarked his father, drily.
Anyway, the $100 was not to be sneezed at. To be sure, Harry, with Terryassisting, had proceeded right ahead making ready. He was a wonder, wasHarry. He had brought the two wagon-wheels from the mud-hole, and (Terryhelping) had constructed a two-wheeled cart: had fitted a shallow bodyon the axle-tree and attached a pair of long heavy shafts. Jenny was tohaul in the shafts, and the chains of Duke were to be run back to stouteye-bolts.
"You see," reasoned Harry, "some days when Jenny is tired and wishes tostop, Duke will be pulling the cart and she'll have to come alongwhether or no."
Jenny's collar and Duke's wooden bow and single yoke (manufactured tosuit the case, from cast-off materials) were rough and ready, but noworse than the rest of the harness. However, on the whole Harry wasrather proud of his work, and Terry was rather proud of Harry. Just nowthey were engaged in stretching a canvas hood over the cart.
As for Jenny, the yellow mule, and Duke, the half-buffalo--their days,of late, had been exciting ones. While they were being trained to haultandem the ranch yard had resembled a circus-ring, much to the alarm ofTerry's mother, and to the entertainment of Terry's father and theStantons.
George and Virgie (who was his little sister) came up, whenever theycould, to watch the preparation; and Mr. Stanton was considerablyinterested, himself. But George was more than interested; he wasroundly sceptical--also, as anybody might see, envious.
"Aw, you don't think you're ever going to get there with thatcontraption, do you?" he challenged. "A rickety old cart, and an oldmule and a half-buffalo! You'll bust down."
"I'd rather bust down than bust up," retorted Terry.
"It'll take you a year. Look at how your wheels wobble." And Georgeadded, somewhat oddly: "Wish I was going."
"If it'll take us a year, you might as well wait and come on with yourown folks later," reminded Harry. "You'll probably travel in style, andpass us."
"That's right," hopefully answered George. "We'll pass you during thesummer. You see if we don't."
"Said the hare to the tortoise," gibed Harry. "Terry and Jenny and Dukeand I may be slow, but we're powerful sure--if our wheels keep turning."
He picked up a tar-pot and a stick, and stepped to the cart, on whichthe hood at last had been stretched.
"What you going to do now?"
"Don't hurry me," drawled Harry. "This isn't a hurry outfit." On thecanvas he drew a letter. "What's that, Virgie?"
"'P'!"
"Right. And what's this?"
"'I'!"
"You're a smart girl--a smarter girl than your brother," praised Harry."Next?"
"'K'!"
"Next?"
"'E'!"
"Next?"
"A--comma!" declared Virgie.
"Oh, pshaw!" deplored Harry. "You go to the foot." And he finished theword: "PIKE'S." He stepped back to admire the result.
"Pike's Peak or Bust! That's what you ought to put on," yelped George."Pike's Peak or Bust! There was a wagon went down the valley yesterdaywith that on it. And it had four wheels instead of two."
"'Pike's Peak and No Bust,' is our motto," corrected Harry. He daubedrapidly, until the words stood: "PIKE'S PEAK LIMITED."
"I guess you're 'limited,'" sniggered George. "Anyway," he confessed,loyally, "wish I was going with you. I'll trade you my pistol for ashare in your mine if you find one."
"That old pistol with a wooden hammer?" scoffed Terry. "You come on outand we'll give you a whole mine, maybe, if we have more than we canwork!"
"I'll cook for you," piped Virgie.
"All right, Virgie," quoth Harry. "George can shoot buffalo with hispistol, and you can cook all he gets! You be ready tomorrow early, andwe'll take you aboard on our way down."
"Do you start tomorrow?" blurted George.
"Sure thing," asserted Terry. "Stop at Manhattan, is all, to getsupplies. Then we hit the trail for the land of gold."
The painting of "PIKE'S PEAK LIMITED" had indeed been the final touch.The start was set for the next morning immediately after breakfast.That evening in the cabin they all tried to be merry and hopeful, butTerry went to bed in the loft, where he and Harry slept, with a lump inhis throat after his mother's goodnight hug and kiss; and although hedreamed exciting dreams of a marvelously quick trip and a row ofmountains blotched with precious yellow, he awakened to the same curiouslump.
But Harry hustled about briskly, before breakfast, to feed and waterJenny and Duke. Harry was always the first out.
"Gold, gold, gold, gold! Bright and yellow, hard and cold,"
he declaimed. "Eh, Jenny? Or should I say:
"Jenny, Jenny! All pure gold! Bright and yellow and hard to hold!"
So Terry aided by carrying the stuff out, to be stowed in the cart.After breakfast there was no delay. Presently Jenny and Duke stoodharnessed tandem, and rather wondering at the decisive manner with whichthey were handled. They little knew that six hundred miles lay beforethem.
"All aboard for Pike's Peak!" announced Harry. "You're to walk behind,Terry, for a piece, and pick up the wheels if they drop off. I'llencourage Duke and Jenny not to look back. Good-bye, folks."
"Good-bye, Mother. Good-bye, Father," repeated Terry. "Come on, Shep.You're going. Of course!"
Shep gamboled and barked. He was going and he did not care where, ifonly he went.
"We'll follow, in a month or two--as soon as we sell the place," calledFather Richards. "We and the Stantons, too, I guess. Get posted on thecountry, and be careful. Good luck. Look up the Russells."
"Yes, be very careful," enjoined Mother Richards. "Don't get lost, anddon't sleep in wet clothes, and don't fail to send word back often, and,Terry, don't disobey Harry, and, Harry, don't you try to perform all thework, and, both of you, don't have any disputes or quarrel with_any_body, and don't omit to eat hearty meals----"
"Oh, Mother Richards!" laughed Harry. "This is a _Do_ concern, not a_Don't_. But we'll remember. You'll find us ready to trade you our golddust for a pan of good corn-bread. Good-bye. Gee-up, Duke! Step ahead,Jenny! Whoop-ee! G'lang!"
"Whoop-ee!" cheered Terry, stanchly, as now he trudged in the wake ofthe creaking, lurching cart. "Hooray for the Pike's Peak Limited to thegold mines!"
They were on their way; they were real gold-seekers, bound for thePike's Peak country. In his cow-hide boots and red flannel shirt andslouch hat, Terry felt that no one should make fun of theirrough-and-ready outfit. A half-buffalo, and a yellow mule, and atwo-wheeled cart with a regular prairie-schooner hood, and a tar-pothanging to the axle, indicated serious purpose.
Black Shep loped happily from side to side, hunting through the weeds.At the "near" or left of Jenny strode Harry, with a slight limp, awillow pole in his hand to serve for occasionally touching up Duke.Harry also wore cow-hide boots, trousers tucked in, and a batteredslouch hat, but a gray shirt instead of blue or red. However, a red'
kerchief for a tie gave him a natty appearance.
"Duke! Hi! Step along!" he urged. And--"Not so fast, Jenny!" hecautioned. Duke pulled steadily, keeping the chains fairly tight; Jenny,her ears wobbling, but now and then laid back in protest at one thing oranother, slothfully dragged her long legs. Together they easily twitchedthe lightly laden cart over the rutted road.
George and Virgie were waiting in front of the Stanton ranch, to see thegold-seekers pass. Mrs. Stanton waved from the ranch-house door, and Mr.Stanton from the potato field.
"Where are your guns?" demanded George, first crack, much as if he hadexpected to see them heavily armed on this peaceful trail down toManhattan.
"Got a shot-gun in the cart," answered Terry.
"How'll you fight Injuns, then? Where are your mining tools--picks andspades and things?"
"Get 'em later."
"Coming, Virgie?" hailed Harry.
Her finger in her mouth, Virgie shook her head in its pink sunbonnet.
"I can't. My mother needs me."
"All right. Sorry. We need a cook. Duke! What are you stopping for?Gwan! Hump along, Jenny!" And to creak of top and jangle of fry-pan andtin plates and cups, and water bucket clashing with tar pot, the Pike'sPeak Limited pressed on.
"We'll see you later, though," promised George, gazing after wistfully."Good-bye."
"Good-bye, George."
All down the valley people called and waved good-bye, for the word thatthe "Richards boys" were going to Pike's Peak had traveled ahead. Andmany a joke was leveled at Duke and Jenny and the two-wheeled cartbearing its Pike's Peak sign. But who cared? Everybody seemed bent uponfollowing as soon as possible; and as Harry remarked: "We're doinginstead of talking!"
Manhattan town was a day and a half, at walking gait.
"No ranch house for us tonight," quoth Harry. "We'll start right inmaking our own camp. And we'll have to start in with a system, too.First we'll noon, for an hour, to rest the animals--not to mentionourselves. My feet are about one hundred and ten degrees hot, already.And we'll make camp every evening at six o'clock. If we don't travel bysystem we'll wear out. There's nothing like regularity."
So they nooned beside a creek; had lunch and let Duke and Jenny drinkand graze. That evening, promptly, they camped, near water. Harry hadelected to do the cooking and dish-washing, Terry was to forage for fueland tend to the animals.
Jenny was staked out for fear that she would take the notion to ambleback to the ranch. Duke, who appeared to think much more of her than shedid of him, could be depended upon to stay wherever she stayed. Harryboiled coffee, and fried bacon, and there was the batch of bread thatMother Richards had baked for the first stages of the journey.
When everything had been tidied up and the camp was ship-shape, in thedusk they "bedded down," each to his coverings. Whew, but it felt goodto shed those hot boots! They also removed their trousers, and used themand their coats for pillows.
Harry sighed with luxury.
"First camp--twelve miles from home," he said.
"Wonder how many camps we'll make before we get there," proposed Terry.
"Some forty, I reckon," murmured Harry. "Six hundred miles at an averageof fifteen miles a day--and there you are. But we have to make only onecamp at a time."
"Hello!" cried a voice, through the dusk.
Shep growled, where he was curled, but instantly flopped his tail, andwith a quick look in the direction of the voice, Harry called, gladly:
"Hello yourself. Come in."
"Hello, Sol," welcomed Terry.
They sat up in their blankets. A horseman approached along the backtrail, and halted. He was a lean, well-built man, with long hair andfull beard, and sat erect upon a small but active horse. He wore apeaked, silver-bound sombrero or Mexican hat, a black velvet Mexicanjacket half revealed under a gaily striped blanket over his shoulders,tight black velvet trousers slashed with a white strip, and on his heelsjingling spurs. The saddle was enormous, and the bridle jingly andsilver-mounted. But he was no Mexican; he was Sol Judy, the Americanhorse-trader, who had been in California and on the plains, and wascounted as almost the very first friend made by Terry and his motherwhen they had started in to "ranch it," a year ago, while waiting forMr. Richards to come home. And a very good friend Sol Judy had remained.
"How's the Pike's Peak Limited by this time?" he queried, with a smile,as he sat looking down. "On the way to the elephant, are you, and assnug as a bug in a rug?"
"'Light, 'light," bade Harry. "Have a cup of coffee, Sol. Wait till Iput on my pants."
"No, no; thank you," declined Sol. "I've eaten and I'm going onthrough." It seemed as though Sol was always bound somewhere else. "Ipassed the ranch and stopped off a minute, and they told me you'd gone.So I knew I'd probably catch you. I'm on my way, myself."
"To the mines, Sol?"
"Yes, sir-ee. Just got back; been in Leavenworth a short spell, and amheaded west again, for more of the elephant."
"What elephant?"
Sol laughed.
"The big show. 'Seeing the elephant,' they call it, now, when they setout for the Pike's Peak diggin's--because there are folks who don'tbelieve there is any such critter."
"Did you see him, Sol?"
"Well, you know we've seen a goose-quill or two containing a fewfreckles from his hide."
"What trail's the best?" queried Harry.
"I went out by the Santy Fee Trail and came back by the Plattegovernment trail. But those are too long for you. I hear tell a lot ofpeople are going to try the trail straight west, up the Smoky Hill. If Iwere you, though, I wouldn't tackle that. The water peters out. You'd dobetter to cut northwest from Riley or Junction City, over the dividebetween the Solomon and the Republican, and strike the Republican. Jonesand Russell, the Leavenworth freighters, are going to put on a line ofstages by that route, and they know what they're about. They've surveyeda route already, and I shouldn't wonder if you'd find some of theirstakes. Anyway, the stages'll overtake you, and then you'll have theirtracks and stations. On the divide you'll keep to the high ground andhead the creeks and save a lot of trouble. Always travel high; that's mynotion. The fellows that try to follow the brush river-bottoms are theones who get stuck. You may have to make one or two dry marches, but youcan keep your water cask full."
"What's doing out at the mines, Sol?"
"Doing? There were about two hundred people there when I left. They'dhad a nice mild winter; only one cold snap at Christmas. They're allcollected at Cherry Creek; they've started two towns opposite eachother, near where the creek joins the Platte. The one on the west sidethe creek they've called Auraria; the one on the east side was St.Charles for a time, but now it's named Denver, after Governor Denver ofKansas Territory. Auraria's the bigger, to date. What it'll be in amonth or two, can't tell. That's where they're all living, anyhow: inAuraria and Denver. S'pose you've read in the papers that last fall theyheld a meeting and set off the Pike's Peak country as 'Arapahoe County'of Kansas, elected a delegate to the Kansas legislature, and another togo to Washington and get the government to let 'em be organized as a newseparate Territory. He hasn't done much, though. Congress won't listento him. It's all too sudden. Proof of the elephant hadn't reached thereyet."
"Are they digging lots of gold, Sol?" asked Terry, eagerly.
"You could put all the gold I saw in two hands," declared Sol. "It'smostly color, and flake gold washed from the creeks. They haven't gotdown to real mining, and some of the people who counted on an easy timeat getting rich quick are plumb disgusted. What's been done since I leftI can't say. But the gold's in the mountains, and it'll take work to digit out."
"How far are the mountains from the towns? How far's Pike's Peak, Sol?"demanded Terry.
"The real mountains are about forty miles, I judge; and that Pike's Peakwe're all hearing of is near a hundred. 'Cherry Creek' diggin's is aheap better name for the place than 'Pike's Peak.' Pike's Peak is awaydown south and there aren't any mines there, yet. Well, how's youroutfit behav
ing? Does the mule pull with the buffalo?"
"First-rate," answered Harry. "They're used to each other."
"That's good. Usually a mule's got no love for a buffalo. You want towatch out when you get into the buffalo country or you'll have trouble,sure, with one or the other of your critters. And I'd advise you to pegalong as fast as you can and keep ahead of the crowd or there won't be apiece of fuel left as large as a match, to cook with."
"Jiminy! That sounds like a rush," exclaimed Harry. "Then what thepapers say is true--about twenty-five thousand people."
"Twenty-five thousand!" laughed Sol. "I've been at Leavenworth, andKansas City too, and every steamer from the south is loaded to thestacks. You can't see the steamers for the people! Those two cities areregular camps--streets jammed, merchants selling tons of supplies,wagons and critters hardly to be bought for love or money, and thecountry around white with wagons and tents of folks makingready--waiting for a start. Same way up at Council Bluffs, where thecrossing is from Iowa into Nebraska to strike the Platte River Trail. Ina month the Platte Trail will be so thick you can walk clear from theMissouri to the mountains on the tops of the prairie schooners. So youdo well to peg along early. The rush is begun." Sol reined up his horse,preparing to leave. "Good luck to you, boys. I'll see you at themines."
"We've got one waiting for us, maybe, you know, Sol," reminded Terry."And--"
"All right," answered Harry. "We'll see you in the land of the elephant,anyway. So long."
And Sol galloped south, into the darkness.