Part 8 (1/2)
”He do? more or less--consider'bly less of more than more uv less, eh?
Yas, I kno' yer brother--leastways hev seen him an' heerd heeps about him. Letters uv his name spell Ned Harris, not?”
”Yes, sir; but how can you know him? Few do, in Deadwood.”
”Nevyer mind that, my puss. Ole Walsingham Nix do kno' a few things yet, ef he ar' a hard old nut fer w'ich thar is not cra'kin'.”
Anita looked at Redburn, doubtfully.
”Brother would be very angry if he were to return and find this man here, what would you advise?”
”I am of the opinion that he will have to vacate,” replied Harry, decidedly.
”_Nix_ c.u.m-a-rouse!” disagreed the old prospecter. ”I'm hayr, an'
thar's no yearthly use o' denyin _that_. Barrin' ye ar' a right peart-lookin' kid, stranger, allow me ter speculate thet it would take a dozen, more or less--consider'bly less uv more than more o'
less--ter put me out.”
Redburn laughed heartily. The old fellow's bravado amused him. Anita however, was silent; she put dependence in her protector to arrange matters satisfactorily.
”That savors strongly of rebellion,” Redburn observed, sitting down upon a lounge that stood hard by. ”Besides, you have an advantage; I would not attack you; you are old and unfitted for combat; deformed and unable to do battle.”
”Exactly!” the ”General” confidently announced.
”What good can come of your remaining here?” demanded Anita.
”Sit down, marm, sit down, an I'll perceed ter divest myself uv w'at little information I've got stored up in my noddle. Ye see, mum, my name's Walsingham Nix, at yer sarvice--Walsingham bein' my great, great grandad's fronticepiece, while Nix war ther hind-wheeler, like nor w'at a he-mule ar' w'en hitched ter a 'schooner.' Ther Nix family were a great one, bet yer false teeth; originated about ther time Joner swallered the whale, down nigh Long Branch, and 've bin handed down frum time ter time till ye behold in me ther last surrivin'
pilgrim frum ther ancestral block. Thar was one remarkable pecooliarity about ther Nix family, frum root ter stump, an' ther war, they war nevyer known ter refuse a gift or an advantageous offer; in this respeck they bore a striking resemblance ter the immortell G'orge Was.h.i.+ngton. G'orge war innercent; he ked never tell a lie. So war our family; they never hed it in their hearts to say _Nix_ to an offer uv a good feed or a decoction o' brandy.
”It war a disease--a hereditary affection uv ther hull combined system. The terrible malady attacked me w'en I war an infant prodigy, an' I've nevyer yit see'd thet time when I c'u'd resist the temptation an' coldly say 'nix' w'en a brother pilgrim volunteered ter make a liberal dispensation uv grub, terbarker, or bug-juice. Nix ar' a word thet causes sorrer an' suffering ter scores 'n' scores o' people, more or less--generally more uv less than less o' more--an' tharfore I nevyer feel it my duty, as a Christyun, ter set a bad example w'ich others may foller.”
Redburn glanced toward Anita, a quizzical expression upon his genial face.
”I fail to see how that has any reference as to the cause of your stay among us,” he observed, amused at the quaint lingo of the prospector.
”Sart'in not, sart'in not! I had just begun ter git thar. I've only bin gi'in' ye a geological ijee uv ther Nix family's formation; I'll now perceed to ill.u.s.trate more clearly, thr'u' veins an' channels. .h.i.therto unexplored, endin' up wi' a reg'lar hoss-car proposal.”
Then the old fellow proceeded with a rambling ”yarn,” giving more guesses than actual information and continued on in this strain:
”So thar _war_ gold. I went ter work an' swallered a pill o' opium, w'ich made me sleep, an' while I whar snoozin' I dreampt about ther perzact place whar thet gold war secreted. It war in a little pocket beneath the bed of a spring frum which flowed a little creeklet.
”Next mornin', bright an' early, I shouldered pick, shuvyel an' pan, an' went for thet identical spring. To-day thet pocket, havin' been traced into a rich vein, is payin' as big or bigger nor any claim on Spring creek.”[B]
Both Redburn and Anita were unconsciously becoming interested.
”And do you think there is gold here, in this flower-strewn pocket-valley?”
”I don't think it--I know it. I hed a dreem et war hayr in big quant.i.ties, so I h'isted my carca.s.s this direction. Ter-nite I'll hev ernuther nighthoss, an' thet'll tell me precisely where ther strike ar'.”
Redburn drummed a tattoo on the arm of the lounge his fingers; he was reflecting on what he had heard.