CHAPTER XIX.
THE CANOE.
Ned Trimble would not hear the repeated thanks of our friends, but wavedthem an impressive and magnificent farewell as they took theirdeparture. They were not yet beyond sight of each other when they heardhim calling to them in excited tones, and the next moment he camerunning after them.
"I think you said you was going to undertake to foller the river downthe valley, didn't you?"
They made answer that such was their intention, whereupon he hastened toadd:
"About a mile down, under some bushes that stick out by a big rock, onthe same side that you're traveling, is a little Injin canoe that isjust the thing you want. You're welcome to it."
"But how shall we thank you?"
"I don't know; again, my noble friends, I bid thee farewell, and ifforever, still forever, fare thee well."
The eccentric miner lifted his hat, bowed very low, and sauntered backto his friends with the air of a monarch who had just indulged in somegracious act of condescension, while our friends, delighted beyondmeasure, hurried forward on their journey.
They were now amply provided--each having a gun and plenty ofammunition, and their faithful dog. They began to look upon themselvesas on a holiday excursion. The only thing was, that there was rather toostrong a tinge of danger about it. If they were but a hundred or twomiles nearer home, and their parents had no anxiety regarding them, itwould be more pleasant. But then, they could easily understand how muchworse it easily could be, and they were heartfelt at the good fortunewhich had followed them thus far on their strange entry into California.The most that they could ask was that it might continue.
Elwood and Howard were anxious to test their marksmanship, but prudenceforbade it, as the chances were that they would need all theirammunition, and the report of their guns might draw inconvenientattention to themselves.
They were walking cheerily along when a singular object caught theireyes. At first sight it resembled an Indian hut; but it was much toosmall to be inhabited by a human being, and therefore must have been thehandiwork of some animal.
"Shall we batter it down?" asked Elwood.
"No; we do not know what is in it, and there is no use of wantonlydestroying the home of any dumb creature."
"It reminds me of me birthplace in ould Ireland," said Tim, with a sigh.
But Terror was not so considerate as his masters; for bursting forwardhe placed his snout at the lower orifice, snuffed furiously, and thenclawed so savagely that the greater part of the singular fabric cametumbling to the ground. It was made of brush and twigs, and likeeverything constructed by instinct, was put together with great skill.Terror could not be restrained until he had inflicted great injury.
"Look! what are they?" exclaimed Howard in astonishment. "Whatstrange-looking creatures!"
"Snapping tortles!" replied Tim, staring with an expression of thegreatest astonishment at the objects.
Three animals, about the size of a musk-rat, with webbed feet, and thecolor of mice, came scrambling forth and scampered away for the shelterof the rocks.
Terror by this time had been brought under restraint, and was preventedfrom crushing them to death as they ran.
Great speculation was caused by their appearance, as none of our friendshad seen anything like them, nor had they ever heard or read of such.They were, in fact, a species of mountain rat living in the vicinity ofmountains and constructing their singular-looking huts with remarkableskill, often building them to a height of six feet. Their fur is veryfine, and the hunters and trappers frequently take the animals for theircoats, although their diminutive size, when compared with the beaver,otter, and other fur-bearing animals, prevents their being much indemand.
The hunters, as perhaps it is proper to term them, were too anxious todiscover the canoe to pause long at any curiosity unless it wassomething extraordinary. They carefully noted the distance theyjourneyed, and when they judged they had gone about a mile, stepped intothe edge of the river and looked about them. But they saw nothinganswering to Ned Trimble's description of the hiding-place of the boat.
"Perhaps he was jesting," remarked Elwood.
"No; I think he is too kind-hearted for that. He may have been mistakenas to whether it is precisely a mile or not."
"Whist! but it strikes me that the bushes are rather thick just ayonstyou."
Tim pointed to a spot a hundred rods away which had failed to arresttheir attention. There was nothing unusual, except mayhap that theoverhanging shrubbery was rather denser than usual; but it held outhope, and the party hurried pell-mell to the spot.
There, sure enough, they descried the rock, and lifting the bushes,caught sight of the small, delicate canoe concealed beneath. Elwood wasin the advance, and quickly pulled it forth with the wildest expressionsof delight.
"Isn't it splendid!" he fairly shouted. "And here is a long paddle. Ourwork is now done."
"Do yees jist stand up in the same," said Tim, "and see what a beautifulrest it gives to the faat."
The impulsive boy caught up the paddle, and rose to his feet; but it waslike unto him who first puts on skates. It flashed from beneath him, andhe was precipitated headlong into the water. The others, as a matter ofcourse, laughed.
"That was done on purpose," said Elwood as he clambered to his feetagain.
"I wished to give yees a little insthruction, and that was me firstlesson."
"Well, I learned considerable at any rate."
The canoe was caught, and the three carefully entered and seatedthemselves. It was made of bark, bound together with cord and gum, andwould have held double their weight, being very light and buoyant.
A vast amount of sport was afforded the party in learning to navigatethe frail vessel. Tim had had some experience in the matter, and couldpropel it quite dexterously; but the boys were much at fault: theyexpended far more strength than there was any need for, and soonexhausted themselves so thoroughly that they were obliged to relinquishthe sole management of the boat into the hands of Tim O'Rooney.
"There's a bootiful current here," said he, "and we can have theillegant pleasure of moving along without working ourselves, as mefrind, Michael McGubbens, said when they carried him off to Botany Bay."
The Irishman first dipped his paddle upon the one side and then upon theother, and imparted quite a velocity to the canoe. The boys were sopleased with the easy, gliding motion that they failed to notice theshores they were passing between. When finally Tim lay down his paddleand rested they were charmed.
All were tired enough to make them enjoy this relaxation and thesensation of floating so idly forward. The sky was clear and almost freeof clouds, the dry air was not uncomfortably warm, and an occasionalbreeze that came floating apparently from the snowy peaks of the CoastRange imparted delicious coolness. On the left stretched the high hillsintervening between them and the Pacific, and on the right rose the vastCoast Mountains, forming in its extensive line some of the finestscenery on the North American Continent.
By-and-by, as they rounded a bend in the river, a small island appearednear the center of the channel.
"There we will rest," said Howard.
A half-hour later the canoe lightly touched the shore, and springing outthey pulled it up on the land after them. They had scarcely done so whena groan very near them startled them all.
"Whisht!" whispered Tim; "there's somebody else beside us on thisisland."