_ CHAPTER II
A RECOGNITION--THE WOODSMAN'S DISCLOSURES--A CHANCE AFTER ALL--THE BIVOUAC--DESMOND'S DISCOVERY--SAVAGES GALORE.
The coffee was soon prepared and Brooks produced some dried meat and a few crackers, and the three men, so strangely met, sat down to enjoy their meal. The woodsman was offered the first cup of coffee, and as he drank it down, all hot and steaming, he smacked his lips and exclaimed:
"Well, that was good; that cup of coffee makes us friends. I may do you a good turn."
"Good enough; we are ready for a good turn. We've had rather hard luck so far."
"So you are after a mine, eh?"
"Yes."
"You are regular prospectors?"
"Yes."
"You have to strike a surface ledge to make any money. Don't think a claim would amount to much out here unless you found a nest of them so as to attract a crowd, and a town, and a mill, and all that. According to my idea the mines out here all need capital to work 'em in case you should strike one."
Regardless of possibilities, as the night was a little chilly, Brooks had created quite a blaze, and by the light of the fire he had a fair chance to study the woodsman's face, and finally he asked abruptly:
"Stranger, what is your name?"
The woodsman laughed, and said:
"I thought you'd ask that question."
"You did?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Well, it's natural that you should, but that ain't the reason I thought so."
"It is not?"
"No."
"Well, why did you think so?"
"I was going to ask your name."
"Certainly; my name is Brooks."
"I thought so."
"You did?"
"Yes."
"What made you think my name was Brooks?"
"Can't you guess?"
"No."
"Why did you ask my name?"
"As you said, it was a natural question."
"That ain't the reason you asked it."
"It is not?"
"No."
"Well, you may tell me the true reason."
"You've been studying my face."
"I have."
"You think you've seen me before somewhere?"
"Well, you did see me before."
"I did?"
"Yes."
"When and where?"
"Just look sharp and see if you can't place me."
"I can't."
"It was a great many years ago."
"It must have been; but to tell the truth, there is something very familiar in your face."
"Yes, and you discovered it at the start, but you don't place me; I placed you. I didn't until you mentioned your name."
"You now recall?"
"I do."
"Where have we met?"
"Try to remember."
"Tell me your name."
"Oh, certainly, by and by; but in the meantime pay me the compliment of remembering who I am."
"You have the advantage."
"How?"
"I told you my name."
"I will tell you mine in good time, but try to remember."
"I give it up."
"You do?"
"I do."
The woodsman laughed, and said:
"We slept together one night."
"We did?"
"Yes."
"When and where?"
"And now you can't recall?"
"I cannot."
"You are a square man, but there has come a change over you."
"Did we meet often?"
"No."
"Were we intimate?"
"Well, yes, for the time being."
"I give it up."
"You don't place me?"
"No."
Again the woodsman laughed and said:
"Do you remember about fifteen years ago a young fellow, tired, wet, and hungry, tried to find shelter in a freight car?"
"Hello! you are not Henry Creedon?"
"Yes, I am, and this is the second time you've fed me. You appear to be my good angel; I may prove your good angel."
"So you are Henry Creedon?"
"I am," and turning to Desmond, Creedon said:
"Your friend there one night made a fight for me, fed me and found shelter for me. He was a tramp then; I was footing it out West here."
"Henry," said Brooks, "what have you been doing all these years?"
"Mine hunting."
"Mine hunting for fifteen years?"
"Yes."
"And have you found a mine yet?"
The woodsman laughed, and Brooks said:
"Desmond, we did indeed take desperate chances, and we've been making a fool's chase, I reckon. Here is a man who has been mine hunting for fifteen years and has not found one yet. Where do we come in?"
"I'll tell you," said Creedon; "it's luck when you find a mine. More are found by chance than are discovered by experts, but I think I've found one; I can't tell. You see, I was raised in a factory town, I've had no education and I can't tell its value. I know where the find is located, however, and some of these days I'll strike a prospecting party who will have an engineer with them, and then I will know the value of my find."
"If you take a party in with you they will demand a share."
"Certainly."
"Do you intend to share with them?"
"I can't do otherwise."
"Yes, that is so; suppose I find an engineer for you?"
"I suppose you will want a rake in."
"Certainly."
"Well, Brooks, I'll tell you, I don't want to start in on a divide with everyone, but I've made up my mind to take you in with me. I know you are a kind-hearted and honest man, even though you are a tramp, a whisky-loving tramp, and that I remember you emptied my canister that night."
"Yes, but I am not drinking now; I've reformed."
"You have?"
"Yes."
"So much the better for you."
"I've something to tell you."
"Go it."
"I am just the man to establish the value of your mine."
"You are?"
"Yes, I am."
"How is that, eh? Have you become an expert after being in the mountains six weeks? and I am not in one way, and I've been here for fifteen years."
"I was an expert before I came to the mountains."
"You were?"
"Yes."
"How is that?"
"I am a civil engineer by profession."
"What's that?"
"I am a civil engineer by profession."
"You don't tell me!"
"That's what I tell you, and I tell you the truth."
"Then you are just the man I want."
"I said I was; I am more than an engineer, I am a mineralogist and a geologist."
"Hold on, don't overcome a fellow out here in the mountains; if you are a civil engineer that is enough for me. Hang your mineralogy and geology; what I want is a man who can estimate. No doubt about the ledge I've struck; the question is, how much will it cost to mine it; how much is there of it? You see I've had some experience here in the mountains, and sometimes we strike what is called a pocket; we might find gold for a few feet one way and another, and then strike dead rock and no gold. I ain't a mineralogist or geologist or a civil engineer, and I am afraid my find won't amount to much, but it is worth investigation, and as you are able to estimate we will make a start. To-morrow I will take you to my ledge and then we will know whether we are millionaires or tramps--eh? mountain tramps--but I am grateful for this food and coffee, and now if you'll give me a little tobacco I'll be the most contented man in the mountains, whether my mine turns out a hit or a misthrow."
So tobacco was produced; Brooks himself was an inveterate smoker, and since being in the mountains Desmond had taken to the weed, and there was promise that some day he might become an inveterate.
The three men had a jolly time, but in a quiet way. Creedon was a good story teller; he had had many weird experiences in the mountains. He had acted as guide to a great many parties, he had engaged in about fifty fights with Indians during his residence in the great West, and had met a great many very notable characters.
When the men concluded to lie down to sleep for the night they extinguished their fire, and each man found a crevice into which he crept, and only those who have slept in the open air in a pure climate can tell of the exhilarating effects that follow a slumber under the conditions described.
Desmond was the first to awake, and he peeped forth from his crevice and glanced down toward the point where the fire had been, when he beheld a sight that caused his blood to run cold. Five fierce-looking savages were grouped around the spot where the campfire had been, and he had a chance to study a scene he had never before witnessed. He beheld five savages in full war paint; they were dressed in a most grotesque manner, part of their attire being fragments of United States uniforms, showing that the red men had been in a skirmish, and possibly had come out victorious, and had had an opportunity to strip the bodies of the dead.
A great deal has been written about the shrewdness of redmen. They are shrewd when their qualities are once fully aroused and they are on the scent, but they are given to assumptions, the same as white men. Of course Creedon was practically to be credited when he said that the Indians assumed there had been a camp there and that the campers had departed, but had they made as close observations as when on a trail they would have made discoveries that would have suggested the near presence of the late campers.
Creedon had as far as possible destroyed all signs when raking out the fire of a recent encampment, but an experienced and alert eye can detect the truth despite these little tricks.
Desmond saw the Indians: they were a hard-looking lot, the worst specimens he had ever beheld, and they were assassins at sight, as he determined. He was secure from observation, but it was necessary to warn his comrades, who were in different crevices, and at that moment Creedon actually snored. He was in the crevice adjoining the one where Desmond had taken refuge.
The Indians were too far away to overhear the snore, but it was possible the man might awake and step forth; then, as Desmond feared, the fight would commence. He did not desire a fight; he might think the chances would be with his party, as only two of the Indians had rifles, but then if even one of their own party were kicked over it would be a sad disaster.
The lad meditated some little time and studied the conditions. He crawled into his crevice, and, lo, he saw a lateral breakaway. He might gain Creedon's berth, as he called it, without chancing an outside steal. Fortune favored him; Creedon's crevice was one of several rents in the rock, and he managed to reach the sleeper's foot, and he cautiously touched it, fearing at the moment that Creedon in his surprise might make an outcry or an inquiry in a loud tone, but here he learned a lesson in woodcraft. Creedon did not make an outcry; he awoke and cautiously investigated, and soon discovered that Desmond had touched him and was seeking to communicate with him. He demanded in a whisper:
"What is it, lad?"
"There are Indians in the gulch."
"Aha! where?"
"Down where we were camped last night."
"You keep low and I will take a peep."
Desmond could afford to let Creedon take a peep. The woodsman did peep and took in the situation, and he said:
"You are smaller than I am; does the rent where you are run to the berth where Brooks is sleeping?"
"It may; I will find out and go slow; we don't want a fight if we can help it, but we've got the dead bulge on those redskins if we have to fight." _