map, but if we miss it, it is no great odds; we know where we have got to go to, and we can find our way there, I guess, anyhow. Still, their line may be the best. They may have had some redskin as their guide, who knew the country, and took them the best way. Anyhow, we can’t do better than try and follow it.”
CHAPTER VIII
The Golden Valley
It was nearly a month later that the gold-seekers arrived at a point due south of the three peaks. The journey had been a toilsome one. At times they made their way through deep gorges. At others they had to climb rocky hills, where the horses could scarce obtain a foothold. One of their pack ponies had been lost, having slipped and fallen over a precipice many hundreds of feet deep, and they had lost a day making a long detour to reach the spot where he fell, in order to recover the articles he had carried. For the first half of the distance they had, they believed, followed the track marked on the map, but they then found themselves at the head of a deep valley from which they could discover no egress, and it was therefore clear that they must have misunderstood the marks and have taken a wrong turning somewhere.
From this time they had put aside the map, and made their way as nearly east as the inequalities of the ground permitted. They had no difficulties as to forage for their horses. In many of the valleys there was an abundance of coarse grass, and among the rocks the aloe and cactus grew thickly, and when, as was sometimes the case, no water was to be found, they peeled the thorny skin from the thick juicy leaves and gave the pulp to the animals.
For themselves they shot three bears and several small mountain deer. There was little fear of the sound of their rifles being heard in these mountain gorges, and should the report have reached the ear of an Indian he would have supposed that it was the gun of some red hunters. There were indeed only two villages marked on the map anywhere near the line they were following, as the great bulk of the Indians lived on the slopes of the hills on either side of the Gila, whence they could make their raids into Mexico to the south or to New Mexico to the east.
Here among the mountains they could subsist on the proceeds of the chase and the little plantations tended by the women, but this offered small attractions to the restless and warlike Indians, who preferred depending upon the plunder that they could always gather by a raid upon the defenseless Mexican villages. Thus during the whole journey they had not once caught sight of an Indian, though they had two or three times made out, with the aid of a telescope Tom had brought with him, little clusters of wigwams far away among the hills.
“There will be more danger when we get near the place,” ’Zekel said one evening when they were talking it over. “The redskins know well enough that it is gold the whites who come into their mountains are in search of, and I guess they know every place where it is to be found. A redskin always has his eyes open. A broken branch, a stone newly rolled down on a path, the ashes of a fire, the slightest thing that is new, he is sure to notice, and the glitter of gold, whether in a stream or in a vein, would be certain to catch his eye, and if this place is specially rich they are safe to know of it, and would keep some sort of watch to see that it is not found out by the whites.”
“That is so,” Dave agreed; “of course we don’t know how the party that Mexican got the map from got wiped out. It may have been on their way back, but it is more likely it was at the mine itself, and we may find signs of them when we get there. I hope they had been at work some time before they were attacked; if so we may like enough find a store of gold without the trouble of working for it. It is no use to the redskins. They don’t do any trade with the whites, and they don’t wear gold ornaments. They are wise enough to know that if they were to show much gold about them it would make the whites more eager than ever to come in among their mountains in search of it, so if the Mexican party gathered some up afore they went under, like enough we shall find it.”
It was with deep satisfaction that they at last caught sight of the mountain with three sharp peaks, but it was four days after they first saw it that they reached a point due south of it. They were now in a wide valley running east and west; to the south a wall of rock rose in a seemingly unbroken line. On the northern side of the valley the hills sloped away, rising one above another, with the peaks of the Sisters visible above them all.
They had left their animals in charge of Boston Joe, in a clump of trees four miles back, as the miners were of opinion that some Indian village might lie somewhere in the neighborhood, and that it would be safer to make their way on foot. One of the many branches of the Gila ran alongthe center of the valley, but except in deep pools it was now dry.
“Now we must keep a sharp lookout for marks on the hills,” Dave said; “we know we are about right as to the line, but we may have to go two or three miles north or as much south before we get a mark just bearing on that middle peak. Stop,” he broke off suddenly; “look up there just beyond the shoulder of that hill; there are some wigwams, sure enough.”
Tom brought his telescope to bear.
“Yes, there are about twenty of them, but they never can see us at this distance.”
“Don’t you make any mistake, young fellow; there aint no saying what an Indian can see and what he can’t see. I reckon their eyes is as good as that glass of yours, and I would not guarantee they could not see a rabbit run at this distance. There, get among those rocks at the foot of the cliff; we will make our way along them, hiding as much as we can. I suppose those are horses away there on the hillside to the right of the village; they can’t be nothing else.”
“Yes, they are horses, Dave.”
For another half hour they made their way among the rocks, and then Dick exclaimed suddenly:
“Look, Dave, there is a tree standing by itself at the top of that hill. I believe in another fifty yards it will just be on the line of the peaks.”
“I think you are right, Dick, and we have hit the very point at the first try; if it is right, there must be a break in this wall above us.”
CHAPTER IX
The Tree on the Peak
They hastened on now with their eyes fixed on the tree. A minute later an exclamation broke from Dave, who was ahead, and the others on joining him saw that the great wall of rock had been split as if by an earthquake. The opening was not more than ten yards wide, and on looking up a narrow line of sky appeared between the walls of rock. Looking the other way, they saw that the tree on the hill bore exactly on the middle peak, the Indian village lying just in the same line halfway up the hill.
“Here is the place, sure enough,” Dave said; “there can’t be no mistake about it; it is just as the map made it, the tree on the middle peak and the line from them going right into this Canyon. Look, boys, there is a stream comes down here in the wet season, and runs into the one in the middle of the valley. See, I can make out gold sparkling in the sand; that is how it was the place was found; they were prospecting along the valley, and they came upon gold, and traced it up to the mouth of this Canyon.”
“Shall we go in now, Dave?” Dick asked excitedly, for they were still standing among the rocks, which broke off abruptly opposite the mouth of the Canyon, those in front of it evidently having been swept away by the torrents flowing down it.
“No, don’t go a step forward, Dick. Don’t let us risk nothing by showing ourselves now. We will make our way back as we came to Boston, and bring up the horses after dark. We have not got a chance to throw away, I can tell you.”
At night they returned with the horses; two blankets had been cut up, and the feet of the animals muffled.
“If one of them redskins was
