Glen of the High North

  CHAPTER XXIV

  WHEN THE RIFLES CRACKED

  Ever since leaving for the hills Reynolds had the strong feeling thatthe ruler of Glen West was studying him very closely. In varioussubtle ways he could tell that he was being tested, and so this morningas they moved forward he seemed like one undergoing a peculiarexamination. That his war record had made a deep impression uponWeston he was well aware. But the man did not yet seem satisfied. Heevidently wished to probe to the very soul of the one who had capturedhis daughter's heart.

  After Weston had expressed himself concerning Indian superstition,little was said until they had crossed the wild meadow and partlyencircled the opposite side of the lake. From here their course wouldtake them directly overland toward the high hill with the cave of gold.

  They were about to leave the shore, when Reynolds suddenly paused andlooked excitedly around. Then his eyes fell upon the remains of acampfire, and nearby, fastened to a stick in the ground, he saw a pieceof paper. This he quickly seized and read the brief message itcontained. He at once turned to Weston, who had been silently watchinghis every movement.

  "It's from Frontier Samson," Reynolds explained. "The old man isgreatly worried over my disappearance, and has been searching for meseveral days. He must have known about your cabin, sir, for hementions it here, and advises me to go there at once should I return.It is strange that he didn't mention it to me."

  "He thought it hardly worth while, I suppose," Weston replied. "Youwere not bound that way."

  "But we must have been, though," Reynolds insisted. "How else could wehave reached Glen West but by the trail over which we travelledyesterday? Surely he must have known that."

  "It is difficult at times to fathom an old prospector's mind," Westonreplied, as he threw his rifle over his shoulder and continued on hisway. "So you two were bound for Glen West, were you?" he queried,after they had gone a short distance.

  "We certainly were, until I spoiled everything by getting lost."

  "You must not be too sure about that, young man. It is hard to tellwhat might have happened to you had you reached Glen West by the trail.You must have been aware of the risk you were running."

  "Oh, the risk is nothing when a great ideal lies ahead. I for onewould rather die following a noble vision than lie grovelling among thebroken shards of life. It was that which led so many to sacrificetheir all in the Great War. Lack of vision means repression, and oftenruin; vision, expression."

  "In what way? Go on, I am much interested."

  "In what way?" Reynolds repeated, as he stopped and looked far awayupon some towering mountain peaks which just then were visible throughan opening among the trees. "Take the steam-engine for example.Repress the power, and what do you get? Destruction. But give thatpower expression, and how beneficial it becomes. So it is with man.There is a mighty power within him. Repress that power, keep it back,and you get nothing. But let that power be released, and it expressesitself in thousands of ways for the benefit of mankind."

  "But what has that to do with vision?" Weston asked.

  "A great deal. It is the vision, the lure of something beyond, whichcalls forth that power and compels it to undertake great things. Allthe wonderful achievements of the past are due to men of vision. Theysaw what others could not see, and in the face of opposition anddiscouragement they went steadily forward."

  "And what did you expect to accomplish when you started for Glen West?"

  At these words Reynolds gave a slight start, and glanced curiously athis companion.

  "I hoped to win the fairest and noblest flower of womanhood that it hasever been my lot to know except one, and that was my mother."

  "Other men have said the same thing, young man," and Weston smiled."They, like yourself, followed attractive faces, pleasing forms, andluring voices, and when it was too late they found out their mistake.You know the legend of the Sirens, I suppose?"

  "That has been true, sir, in many cases. But mine is different. Somewomen have many outward attractions, but no souls. The first time Ibeheld your daughter I detected something in her that I never sawbefore in any woman, and that is saying a great deal. Since I haveknown her better, I have found that I was right, and that she is worthyof a man's noblest vision. A woman such as she is would elevate a manwho has the least spark of nobleness."

  "You are right, young man, you are certainly right," Westonacknowledged, and his voice was somewhat husky. "You are more thanfortunate in having such a vision. But what will it lead to?"

  "That remains to be seen," Reynolds slowly replied. "Anyway, thevision I have been following has made a new man of me already. BeforeI saw your daughter on the street one night, I had no aim in life. Iwas ready to drift anywhere and into anything. But the sight of herbrought me up standing, and gave me a new impulse. Even though myvision should never be attained, I am better and stronger, for what thepoet says is true, that 'The striving makes the man.'"

  They were crossing a wild meadow now, and before them loomed the highhill up which Reynolds had so wearily climbed in his great battle forlife. He could hardly believe that they were so near the place, and heexpressed his astonishment to his companion.

  "We have come in a straight course," Weston explained, "and that makesthe difference. When you were lost, you wandered around for a longtime until you happened by chance upon yonder hill. It is a wonder tome that you ever found your way out of this region."

  "So it is to me," Reynolds replied. "And to think that I was sofoolish as to chase that moose after what Frontier Samson told me. Isee now that the old man was right. I wonder where he can be. Perhapshe has gone back to Big Draw. I must go there, too, as soon as wereturn, for I feel sure that Samson is worrying about me."

  "If we find that mine, you will have to hurtle to Big Draw to recordour claims," Weston reminded. "One of the Indians can go with you toshow the way."

  "I suppose the miners will make a wild stampede into this place as soonas they hear of the discovery."

  "Most likely. But there have been so many 'wild-cat' claims recordedof late that they may merely consider this another, and pay littleattention to it. However, do not say much about it, and they may takeno notice. We can get our haul first, and then they may come as fastas they like."

  After they had crossed the wild meadow it was necessary to travelseveral hundred yards up the little stream at which Reynolds had slakedhis thirst. The meadow ere long ended, and the high, frowning sides ofthe two opposing hills shouldered toward each other, thus forming adeep draw about fifty yards in width.

  "It was up there where the eagle fell," Reynolds explained, as he stoodlooking up the ravine. "Poor creature, it was hard when it was merelydoing its duty. But it saved my life, though, and perhaps that wassomething."

  "It is always the way," Weston made answer. "Little is accomplished inthis world without sacrifice, and often the innocent are the sufferers.And I reckon we shall not get that gold without sacrificing something.I see that Natsu is not altogether pleased at the prospect of climbingthis hill. But it cannot be helped, so we might as well begin at once."

  It took them some time to ascend, and often they were forced to drawthemselves up by means of rocks and small trees. Occasionally theyrested, for combined with the steep climb the sun was pouring its fierybeams full upon their heads.

  "I do not believe the miners will find this place in a hurry," Reynoldspanted, as he sat upon a ledge of rock where he had with difficultydragged himself. "When I first climbed up here I worked my way alongthe side of the hill, which was somewhat easier. Short cuts don'talways pay."

  "That must have been the reason why you didn't take one to Glen West,"Weston replied, as he, too, rested upon the rock.

  "It's a definite proof, sir, of what I just said, that short cuts don'talways pay. I was cursing myself for getting lost in the wilderness,when all the time it was the only way whereby I could reach Glen Westin safety. Had I gone any other route, by a sh
ort cut, for instance,you would have pitched me at once beyond the Golden Crest."

  Weston made no reply, and once more they continued their climb. Up andup they slowly made their tortuous way, and at length Reynolds, who wasleading, gave a shout as his eyes fell upon the desired cave. With abound he sprang forward, reached the place and was standing before theopening when his companions arrived.

  "There it is!" he cried, stooping and pointing into the cave. "And,look, there are the remains of my fire which the rain nearly put out."

  Weston was greatly excited now, and drawing a candle from his pocket,he lighted it, and together the three made their way into the mine.They had not proceeded far when the richness of the cave became mostapparent, and Weston stared in amazement at the wealth he beheld onevery side.

  "Why, it's a regular King Solomon's mine!" he exclaimed. "It has neverbeen worked, and being so far up the side of the hill it has beenmissed by the prospectors who have scoured this region. The place isfull of gold! Just look at that!" and he held out a handful of earthhe had taken from the right hand wall. "Our fortunes are made."

  "Suppose we get something to eat," Reynolds suggested. "I am almoststarved. We can examine our treasure afterwards."

  It did not take Natsu long to prepare their simple repast at the mouthof the cave, as their luncheon consisted merely of sandwiches and cake.But there was plenty, and they thoroughly enjoyed the meal. When itwas finished Weston and Reynolds leaned back against a big rock, filledand lighted their pipes.

  "My! this is comfort," Reynolds remarked. "It is not much like thefirst time I visited this place. I little expected to be here so soonagain."

  "And it won't be the last time, either," Weston replied, as he puffedthoughtfully at his pipe. "The amount of gold in this cave astonishesme."

  "You thought it was all a cock-and-bull story I was telling you, Isuppose?"

  "I really did," was the candid confession. "I believed that thefearful experiences through which you passed had affected your brainfor a time, and that you imagined you had discovered a rich mine."

  Reynolds laughed as he looked down the steep cliff.

  "How are we to get the gold out of this place?" he asked. "It will bedifficult to take it by the way we have just come."

  "Oh, that will be no trouble, as we can easily get it to the Tasan, andfrom there take it down on _The Frontiersman_. I have been somedistance up the river and know that it can be navigated. We can----"

  Weston never finished his sentence, for the sharp crack of a riflesuddenly split the air, and a bullet, passing through the top ofReynolds' hat, spattered on the rock close to his head. Instantlyanother shot rang out, farther down the creek, followed immediately bya wild, piercing shriek of pain. Then all was still.

  Greatly surprised and mystified, the men leaped to their feet, andstood staring across at the opposite hill from whence the sounds hadcome. But nothing could they see except the great silent wall of rockand earth. Each man grasped his rifle in readiness for any emergency,not knowing what to expect next.

  "Who can it be?" Weston asked. "What is the meaning of that secondshot, and the scream of pain? There's something wrong over there,that's quite evident."

  "Suppose we cross over and investigate," Reynolds suggested. "It mayhave been a stray shot which went through my hat. But, hello! who'sthat?"

  "Where?" Weston asked.

  "Don't you see him?" and Reynolds pointed to his left. "Look, he ismoving along the top of the hill toward where we heard the first shot."

  The form of a man could be seen, gliding swiftly and cautiouslyforward, carrying a rifle. Only brief glimpses could be obtained ofhim as he emerged now and then from behind rocks and clumps of stuntedtrees, so it was impossible to make out whether he was a white man oran Indian. At length he vanished entirely for several minutes, whilethe curious and anxious watchers waited for him to reappear.

  It seemed to them much longer than it really was before they saw himagain, and this time he was standing upon a huge rock motioning withhis arms.

  "Why, it's Sconda!" Weston exclaimed in amazement. "What does hewant?" he asked, turning to Natsu, who all the time had remainedperfectly silent.

  "'Come quick,' Sconda say," was the reply.

  "Ask him what is the matter," Weston ordered.

  This Natsu at once did, but all the answer he received was the requestto hurry.

  "What ails the fellow, anyway?" Weston growled. "Why can't he tell uswhat's wrong? Anyway, we might as well go and find out for ourselves,for there is something mysterious about this whole affair. Confound itall! I want to make a further examination of this mine and see how farit extends. This is certainly provoking."

  It did not take them long to reach the bed of the creek, although theyreceived a number of bruises and scratches in the swift descent. Butthe climb up the opposite hill was a difficult undertaking, and by thetime they reached the top they were almost exhausted. Here they resteda few minutes, and then hurried as fast as possible toward the spotfrom where Sconda had signalled his message. The latter they did notagain see until they had scrambled over a series of jagged rocks, andplowed their way through a tangle of scrubby bushes and trees. At lastthey suddenly beheld him bending over something lying upon a rock,which as they drew nearer they found to be the form of a man.

  Weston now was in the lead, and at the first glance he recognized theprostrate man.

  "It's the villain Dan!" he exclaimed. "What in time is he doing here?Is he dead?" he asked, turning to Sconda.

  "Dan no dead," was the reply. "Dan all same sleep."

  "Unconscious, eh?" Weston queried as he stooped and felt the man'spulse. "He's alive, all right, but bleeding. Did you shoot him,Sconda?"

  "Ah, ah, Sconda shoot."

  "Why did you shoot him?"

  "Dan shoot first. Dan shoot at Big White Chief," and Sconda pointed tothe cave across the ravine.

  Weston looked at Reynolds as the light of comprehension dawned upon hismind.

  "It seems to me that there is something in Indian presentiment, afterall," he confessed. "How did you know that Dan was going to shoot me?"he asked Sconda.

  The latter, however, made no reply. He merely shook his head andglanced furtively and anxiously around. This Weston noticed, and itaroused his curiosity.

  "What's the matter, Sconda? You seem to be nervous. Do you expectmore shooting?"

  "Sconda no savvey. More bad white man. Ugh!"

  "Well, then, let us get away from this place as soon as possible."

  "What about Dan?" Reynolds asked. "We can't leave him here."

  "That's true," and Weston turned toward the wounded man. "He deservesto stay, though, for his base treachery. But we cannot do that, somust tote him back to the cabin. It will be a hard task, and thevillain isn't worth it. But, come to think of it, we must not let himdie until we hear his story. There may be others in this plot, and wemust find out who they are. Come, Sconda, give us a hand. Surely fourof us can carry him."

  An exclamation from Natsu caused the white men to look quickly around,and as they did so they saw Sconda some distance away, bounding like adeer from rock to rock. At first Weston stared in amazement. Then hecalled and ordered him to come back. For the first time in his lifeSconda paid no heed to his master's command, but sped rapidly forward,and in a few minutes was entirely hidden from view.