Part 47 (1/2)

”No,” said Gunson, smiling. ”The companies follow sometimes. I am a prospector--a searcher for mineral veins and deposits in the mountains.

I was convinced that there was gold up here, and we have just had proof that I am right. That Chinaman you see is bound on a similar mission, for those fellows have a wonderful scent for gold. And you see that those big roughs that he calls Melican men, but who were undoubtedly English, have been up here, and found gold. That is a surprise and an encouragement, and a damping, all in one, for it may mean a regular rush of people up the river. Now do you see why I have kept my counsel so long?”

”Yes,” I cried.

”Of course,” said Esau; ”but why didn't you say so before? You might have trusted us.”

”Why didn't you become friendly before, my lad? you might have trusted me.”

Esau looked at him comically, and gave one ear a rub.

”Now then,” said Gunson, ”shall we travel on together in company?”

”Of course,” I cried.

”Then the sooner the better. Your way will suit me as well as any, so let's make up our packs, leave the boxes in some one's charge here, and then the word is forward.”

Two hours later, under Gunson's directions, we had made a pack each, consisting princ.i.p.ally of provisions, and Gunson in addition had brought out of his case a rifle and ammunition.

”There, Dean,” he said, ”you may as well shoulder that, and you may as well carry this, Gordon,” he continued, taking a small revolver with holster, strap, and cartridge-box. ”You are not to use it except in a case of the most extreme urgency. Strap it on, my lad. It looks formidable, and the possession of such a weapon will often keep off danger.”

”What Quong cally?” said that gentleman when we were ready.

”Nothing,” said Gunson, shortly; ”you don't go our way.”

”Yes, go allee same way 'long libber. No other way. Quong cally pack.”

”Humph!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Gunson; ”if we don't employ him, he'll follow us, so one may as well make him useful. We can easily pay him; it will not mean much. Here, make yourself up a pack.”

Quong smiled with pleasure, and taking the blanket Gunson threw him out of his chest, he had it soon full of stores and necessaries, a bag of flour being added to his load.

”Want um fizzlum?” said Quong, suddenly.

”Want what?” I said.

”Fizzlum. Bak.u.m powdum make blead.”

”Ah, I had forgotten,” said Gunson; and he took a small tin from his box.

An hour later the Indians were paddling slowly back along the river, and after a friendly good-bye from the settler who had taken charge of our boxes, we shouldered our packs, and began to trudge up the river-side, finding it easy going, for we were in quite an open part here, with a gra.s.sy margin for a short distance at the foot of the mountains on one side. But higher up the rocks began to close in the prospect, there was the faint roar of tumbling water, and dense black pine forests clothed the sides of the valley as far as we could see.

Before we had gone very far along the forest track, the perspiration was oozing out fast on my forehead; and lightly as I was loaded, I began to think regretfully of the boat, and of how much easier it was to sit or kneel there, and watch the Indians paddle, while over and over again I had come to the conclusion that it was a very fortunate thing that we were not alone, but backed up by such a tower of strength as Gunson, whose counsels were called in question every few minutes to decide which way we were to go next.

The direction was undoubted, for, so long as we kept to the valley in which the river ran, we could not be wrong, but the task was to keep along it by a way that was pa.s.sable to people carrying loads.

For a mile or so beyond the tiny settlement we had left behind, we found, as we had been told, some traces of a track; but it was wanting more often than present, and several times over we thought we had come to the end of it, only for it to begin again some fifty yards further on.

At last though we had pa.s.sed the final vestige of a trail, and there was the valley before us with the mountains rising up steeply on either side, and our way to make along the steep slope crowded with trees or covered with the _debris_ of great ma.s.ses of rock which had broken from their hold hundreds upon hundreds of yards above us to come thundering down scattering smaller fragments, and forming a chaos of moss-covered pieces, over and in and out among which we had to make our way.

”Rather rough,” Gunson said, ”but keep up your spirits: it will soon be much better, or much worse.”

”It's always like that--worse,” Esau grumbled to me at last, as our companion went forward, while the patient little Chinaman plodded on with his load as steadily as if he had been a machine.