Dorothy's Double. Volume 3 (of 3) Read online

  CHAPTER XX

  A caravan--consisting of ten waggons, drawn by teams of six, eight, andten bullocks, five or six lighter vehicles of various descriptions,half-a-dozen horsemen, and a score of men on foot--was making its wayacross an undulating plain.

  Few words were spoken, for what was there to talk of when one day wasbut a picture of another? The women, sitting for the most part in thewaggons, knitted or worked with but an occasional remark to each other.The men, walking with the oxen, kept on their way as doggedly as theanimals they drove, and save for the occasional crack of a whip or ashout from one of the men to his beasts, and the occasional creaking ofa wheel, the procession might have seemed to an onlooker a merephantasmagoria of silent shapes. But the sun was getting low and theoxen beginning almost insensibly to quicken their pace, and all knewthat the long day's journey was nearly over, and the water-holes couldnot be far ahead.

  Half an hour later these are reached, and at once a babel of soundssucceeds the previous silence. The children of all ages leap joyfullyfrom the waggons, the men loose the oxen from their harness, and thensome of them take them to the lowest water-hole, while the rest, andeven the women, lend a hand at the work, and arrange the great waggonsinto the form of a square. As soon as this is done fires are made withthe bundles of bush that the boys and girls have cut during the earlierpart of the day's journey and piled on the tailboards of thewaggons--long experience having taught them that everything that couldburn had been long since cut down or grubbed up within a wide radius ofthe halting-place.

  The horses are hobbled and turned out, to pick up what substance theycan find in addition to a slice or two of bread that most of theirowners have set apart from the over-night baking. Kettles are soonhanging over the fires, and it is not long before most of the women havetheir dough ready and placed in iron baking-pots over the red-hotembers, a pile of which is raked over the cover so as to bake it evenlyright through. Two or three deer had been shot in the morning by thehunters, and the joints hung over the fires give an appetising odourvery welcome to those whose chief article of diet for many weeks hasbeen salt meat.

  In one corner of the square a group of three or four men are seatedround a fire of their own. It is they whose rifles have provided themeat for the camp, and who in return receive a portion of bread fromeach of the families composing the caravan.

  'We shall not get much more hunting,' one of them said; 'we are gettingto the most dangerous part of our journey. We have been lucky so far,for though we know that we have been watched, and have seen severalparties of Redskins, none of them have been strong enough to venture toattack us. But now that every express rider we have met has warned usthat there is trouble here, that strong caravans have been overpoweredand the emigrants massacred, there will be no more wandering away farfrom the camp. You will have to travel the same pace as the rest of us,Ned,' he added, to the bearded figure next to him. 'It beats me how youhave got through as you have, without having your hair raised.'

  'I have only made extra journeys where, by all accounts, no Indians havebeen seen about for some time. Besides, it is only about three or fourtimes we have made two journeys in one. We have simply, when the partywe were with have made up their minds to stop a day or two at awater-hole to rest their beasts and to wash their clothes, gone on thenext morning with another party who had finished their rest. There seemto be regular places where every caravan that arrives makes a halt for aday or so. We have done this seven times, so I reckon that we havegained fourteen days that way and on five days we have made doublejourneys, so that altogether we have picked up something like nineteendays on the caravan we started with.'

  'Your critters are in good condition, too,' the man remarked.

  'Yes, I have been fortunate with the hunting. One can always get half apound of flour for a pound of meat, so that I still have almost as muchas I started with, and I always give each of the horses four pounds ofbread a day. One cannot expect that horses can be kept in condition whenthey are working day after day and have to spend their nights insearching for food and then not getting half enough of it.'

  'These Indian ponies can do it; no one thinks of feeding a horse on theplains. They have got to rustle for themselves.'

  'That may be, but these three horses have not been accustomed to thatsort of thing. No doubt they have always been fed when they have worked,and they would soon have broken down under the life that comes naturalto the half-wild ponies of the plains. However, it has paid to keep themwell; they have come along without halts, and, as you see, they are inas good condition as when they started. In better condition indeed, forthey are as hard as nails and fit to do anything.'

  'That young mate of yours is a good 'un, and takes wonderful care of thecritters. He is British too, I suppose?'

  'Oh, yes, we came out together.'

  'Ain't no relation of yourn?'

  'No. I was coming out and so was he, and we agreed to come together. Itis always a good thing to have someone one knows at home with one.'

  'That is so,' the man agreed. 'A good mate makes all the difference inlife out here. It is easy to see the young 'un thinks a heap of you, andI guess you could reckon on him if you got into a tight corner. He is atough-looking chap, too. Well, I reckon the meat's done. You had bettergive a call for your mate. Where has he gone to?'

  'He is at the cart,' Ned said, as he stood up and looked round. 'Jacob,supper is ready.'

  'I am coming,' was called back; but it was another five minutes beforeJacob came up and seated himself by the fire.

  'What have you been up to, Jacob?'

  'I fetched a couple of buckets of water, and I have been a-giving thecart a wash down and a polish.'

  The hunters looked at the lad in surprise.

  'Do you mean that?' one asked; and on Jacob nodding they all burst intoa hearty laugh.

  'Well, I reckon, Jacob, as that's the first cart as ever was washed outon these plains. Why, what is the good of it, lad? What with themud-holes in the bottoms and the dust where the wind has dried thetrack, it will be as bad as ever afore you have gone half an hour;besides, who is a-going to see it?'

  'I don't care for that,' Jacob said sturdily; 'if it has got to getdirty it has got to; that ain't my fault; but it is my fault if itstarts dirty. It ain't often one gets a chance o' doing it, but as wewas in good time to-day I thought I would have a clean up. Ned had seento the horses, so I looked to the cart.'

  It had taken Captain Hampton immense trouble to accustom Jacob to callhim by his Christian name. He began by pointing out to him that were heto call him 'Captain' or 'sir' it would at once excite comment, and thatit was of the greatest importance that they should appear to betravelling together on terms of equality.

  'Unless you accustom yourself always to say "Ned" the other words aresure to slip out sometimes. This journey is going to be a hard one, andwe have got to share the hardships and the danger and to be comrades toeach other, and so you must practise calling me Ned from the time we goon board the steamer.'

  It had not been, however, until they had been out on the plains for sometime that Jacob had got out of the way of saying 'Captain' occasionally,but he had now fallen into 'Ned,' and the word came naturally to hislips.

  'I think the idea is right, Jacob. Absolutely, washing the cart may seemuseless. So it is to the cart, but not to you. There is nothing likedoing things as they should be done. When one once gets into carelesshabits they will stick to one. I always give my horse a rub down in themorning and again before I turn it out after it has done its work. Ithink it is all the better for it, and I like to turn out decently inthe morning, not to please other people, but for my own satisfaction.'

  'I reckon you are about right,' the oldest of the party said; 'a man whotakes care of his beast gets paid for it. You don't have no trouble inthe morning. Your three critters come in at once when they hear youwhistle. I watched them this morning and saw you give them each a hunchof bread and then set to work to rub them down and brush their coats,
and I says to myself, "That is what ought to be between horse andmaster. If we was attacked by Redskins you and that young chap would bein the saddle, and ready either to fight or to run, afore most of themhere had begun to think about it."'

  One of the horses in the cart always carried a saddle, and Jacobsometimes rode it postilion fashion, and also rode out with Ned Hamptonwhen the start of the caravan was late and he went out to try to get ashot at game before they moved. In this way he had got to ride fairly,which was Ned's object in accustoming him to sit on horseback, as hetold him there was never any saying when it might not be necessary toabandon the cart and to journey on horseback. The two draught horseswere ridden in turns, and when the lad rode with his master the thirdhorse was always summoned by a whistle to accompany them, and canteredalongside its companion until both halted, when Ned caught sight of gameand went forward alone in its pursuit. Jacob was also taught to use apistol, and by dint of steady practice had become a fair shot.

  The meal was just finished when there was a shout from the man placed onthe lookout a hundred yards from the encampment.

  'What is it?' a boy posted just outside the waggons shouted back.

  A dead silence fell on the camp until, a minute later, they heard thereply, 'It is only the express rider.'

  Many of the men rose and moved towards the narrow opening left betweentwo of the waggons to give admittance to the square.

  The passage of an express rider was always an event of prime interest.These men were their only links with the world. Often if they met themon the way they would not check the speed of the ponies, but pass onwith a wave of the hand and a shout of 'All's well,' or 'Redskins about;keep well together.' It was only when a rider happened to reach one ofthe pony stations, often forty or fifty miles apart, while the caravanwas there, that they could have a talk and learn what news there was tobe told of the state of the country ahead. It was uncertain whether therider would draw rein there; he might stop to snatch a bit of food and adrink before he rode on. This hope grew into certainty as the footstepsof a horse at a gallop were heard approaching. The man threw himself offhis pony as he entered the square, and the light of the fire sufficed toshow that the horse was in the last state of exhaustion, its chest wasflecked with foam, its sides heaved in short sobs, its coat was staring.

  'Give it half a bucket of water with half a tumbler of whisky in it,'the man said hoarsely. 'It has saved my life.'

  Jacob ran up with half a pail of water, and Captain Hampton emptied thecontents of his flask into it.

  'Thanks, mate,' the rider said, holding out his hand; 'that is a goodturn I won't forget.'

  The horse at first refused to drink. Captain Hampton dipped hishandkerchief in the bucket and sponged its nostrils and mouth, while itsrider patted its neck and spoke encouragingly to it. At the next attemptit sipped a little and then drank up the rest without hesitation.

  'It will do now,' its rider said, with a sigh of relief; 'it has carriedme eighty miles, and for the last twenty of them I have been hotlychased by the Redskins; they were not a hundred yards behind when at thelast rise I caught sight of your fires and knew that I was saved. It wasmy last chance, for I knew that if I did not find a party at these waterholes it was all up with us.'

  'Then there are Redskins near,' one of the men asked; 'how many ofthem?'

  'Not above a dozen; it was a big band, but there were not more than thatchased me. They won't venture to attack this outfit, but some of you hadbest turn out with your rifles at once, and get your oxen and horses in.If you don't you are not likely to find them here in the morning.'

  This started the whole camp into activity. A waggon at the entrance wasturned round so as to give more room to the animals to pass in; the boyswere set to work to carry blazing brands and brushwood outside, and torelight the fires, at a distance of thirty or forty yards round thewaggons, while the embers of those inside were at once scattered; thechildren were all placed for safety in the waggons, where CaptainHampton, whose horses had come in at once to his whistle, took his placewith four or five other men in readiness to keep the Indians at adistance, if they showed themselves. The rest of the men, armed to theteeth, went out to drive in the animals. This was accomplished withoutinterruption, and the waggon was then moved back into its place, theboys posted on watch all round, and the men gathered round the expressrider to hear the news.

  'It is mighty bad news, boys,' began the express rider, 'I can tellyou--I saw nothing particular wrong till I got near the pony station,though I noticed that a big gang of Redskins had ridden across thetrack. Directly I fixed my eye on the station I saw as something waswrong. There was the stockade, but I did not see the roof of the stationabove it. I took a couple of turns round afore I went near it, buteverything was still and I guessed the red devils had ridden off, so Imade up my mind to ride straight in and take my chance. When I did, Itell you it made me feel a pretty sick man. The hut was down, but thatwas not the worst of it; there was bodies lying all about; men andwomen, scalped in course; there was what had been five waggons justburnt up, piles of flour and meat and other things all about, and it wasclear that, after taking all they could carry, the Redskins had emptiedthe barrels, chucked them into the waggons and set them alight.

  'It wuz clearly a surprise, for there wer'n't a dead Redskin about. Thatdidn't go for much, cause they would have buried them; but I lookedpretty close round and could see nary sign of blood except where thewhites were lying. The Redskins had left their ponies at a distance, hadscaled the stockades without being noticed, and then had fallen uponthem afore they had time to get hold of their arms. There was a dead manat each corner of the stockade; them four had been stabbed ortomahawked, and so no alarm had been given. I counted fifteen deadbodies besides the station-keeper and his mate: they was pretty near allchildren or oldish women and men. I guess they carried off all the youngwomen and some of the men.'

  A deep groan of horror and fury broke from his hearers.

  'Ay, it is one of the worst businesses there has been yet,' he said;'and there has been some bad massacres in this part too. Men says thosepeople up the Salt Lake stirs the Redskins up agin emigrants, but Ican't believe as human nature is as bad as that. Well, I did not waitlong, you may be sure. I got a bucket and filled it at thestation-keeper's bar'l and put half a dozen pounds of flour in from oneof the heaps, and stirred it up and give it to the pony. I guessed hewould want it afore he had done. Then I rode on quiet, keeping a prettysharp look out, you bet, till I got half way to this place. Then I gotsight of a big lot of Redskins over on the right, and you may bet yourboots I rode for it. They came down whooping and yelling, but thecrittur is one of the fastest out on the plains, and if he had beenfresh I should not have minded them a cent. Most of them soon gave itup, but about a dozen laid themselves out for me, and I tell you I havehad to ride all I knew to keep ahead of them. The last half-mile I couldfeel that the poor beast could not go much further, and if I had foundnary waggon here I had made up my mind to lie down at one of these holesand fight it out. I reckon some of them would never have got back totheir tribe to tell how my scalp was took.'

  Guards were posted round the waggons as soon as the cattle were in andthe entrance closed, although, as the express rider said, there waslittle fear of an attack, as even if the main body of Indians hadfollowed those who pursued him, they would not venture upon such anenterprise, when they would be sure that the emigrants would be watchfuland prepared, but would be far more likely to fall upon them on themarch. He thought it still more likely that there would be no attackwhatever.

  'They have got a grist of scalps,' he said, 'and as much booty as theycould carry away. They will be making straight back to their villages tohave their dances and feasts. You have a good chance of getting onsafely now.'

  Captain Hampton volunteered to form part of the first watch. The newshad rendered him very uneasy. He told Jacob that he might as well comeout with him.

  'I am troubled about this affair, Jacob,' he said, when the
y had takentheir place, about a hundred yards away from the waggons. 'You know, Iwas saying to-day that we might possibly overtake them at any time. Ifthey have travelled at the rate at which the heavy trains move they mayvery well have been with that party who have been massacred by theIndians. Mind, I do not think that they were; I should say that mostlikely they have gone on as fast--or possibly even faster--than we have.The waggon they brought was a light one, though it was heavier thanours, but they have six horses. Then, as we have heard, sometimesparties all with light waggons and carriages join and travel together,and so get along much faster than ordinary trains. I think they wouldhave pushed on as fast as they possibly could. I feel sure that if theyhad a hand in that attack upon me, the man who started by the steamer inthe morning would find out before he went on board that I had been takento the hotel, and that I was alive.

  'Probably I may have been reported as much worse than I really was, andthey would count upon the wound being a mortal one. Still they could notbe sure of it, and would decide to push across the plains as rapidly aspossible, in case I should recover and pursue them. Still there is justthe possibility that feeling confident that I should die they might takeit quietly, and have been in that caravan. It seems to render everythinguncertain. Before, we knew they were ahead of us, and that sooner orlater we should come upon them in California, if we did not overtakethem on the journey; now, we know that possibly they have been killed,and the girl carried off by the Indians.'

  'But we shall pass by the place to-morrow, Ned, and you will be able tosee if they are there.'

  'We shall not be able to see that, Jacob; the vultures and wild dogsmake very short work of those who fall out here on the plains. When weget there to-morrow we shall find nothing but cleanly-picked bones.'

  This turned out to be the case. The caravan camped four miles short ofthe scene of the massacre, and made a detour in the morning to avoid it.Captain Hampton rode over early with the hunters, but found, as heexpected, that the vultures and dogs had done their work. Two days laterthe train arrived at Salt Lake City. Here were a great number of waggonsand emigrants, for most of those crossing the plains made a halt of someduration here, both to rest their animals and to enjoy a period ofquiet, undisturbed by fears of the dreaded Indian war whoop. There was,too, an opportunity for trade with the Mormons, from whom they obtainedmeat, grain, and vegetables, in exchange for tea, sugar, axes, andmaterials for clothes.

  Captain Hampton remained but a night, spending the evening in examiningthe newly-raised settlement, and wondering at the strange band ofignorant enthusiasts who had thus cut themselves off from the world andforsaken everything in their blind belief in an impostor as ignorant butmore astute than themselves. He made many inquiries as to thepossibility of getting together a band to follow up the Indians who werethe authors of the massacre four days before, in order to punish themand to rescue the captives they might have carried off, but among theMormons he found nothing but a dull apathy as to anything outside theirown colony, while the emigrants were all too much bent upon pressingforward towards the land of gold, to listen to anything that would causedelay. He had mooted the subject to the men of his own party, but theyhad shaken their heads.

  'I doubt whether it is possible, Ned,' one of them said. 'It 'ud need amighty strong party to venture into the hills after them Redskins. Wedon't know what tribe they were or where they came from, and they wouldbe a sight more likely to find us and attack us than we to find them.Their villages may be hundreds of miles away. We ain't sure as theycarried any women off, though like enough they have. No, it won't do,Ned. We ought to have at least a hundred good men for such a job asthat, and there ain't a chance of your getting them. It ain't like aswhen a border village is attacked and women carried off; then theirfriends are ready to go out to pay back the Redskins and rescue thewomen, and men from other villages are ready to join, because what hashappened to one to-day may happen to another to-morrow, and so all areconcerned in giving the Indians a lesson. But it ain't no one's businesshere. This crowd are all concerned only in getting on as hard as theycan. There ain't one of them but thinks that the delay of a week mightlose him a fortune; and though they would fight if the Redskins were toattack them, they have not got any fight in them except for their lives,and even if they were willing to go they would not be no manner of useon an expedition like that you talk about.'

  Captain Hampton hardly regretted the failure of his attempt to get up anexpedition at Salt Lake City. It would have entailed a great loss oftime, and the chances that the woman he was in search of had been in thecaravan were slight indeed. The stream of emigration was so great thatfrequently five or six caravans a day passed along, and as she might bea day or a month ahead of him it was clear that the odds were greatindeed against her being in any given one of them. The risk of attack byIndians was henceforth comparatively slight, and Captain Hampton wastherefore able to push on at a much higher rate of speed. He would,indeed, have travelled much faster than he did, had it not been for thenecessity of stopping for an hour or two with each caravan he overtook,so as to ascertain that the party he was in search of were not with it.

  At last they reached the edge of the great plateau of Nevada, where theland, cut up in numerous ravines and valleys, and everywhere thicklywooded, falls rapidly down to the low lands of California. A villageconsisting principally of liquor stores stood just where the roadplunged down through the forest. Here every caravan stopped on its wayto gather news as to the diggings at the gold fields. All sorts ofrumours had reached them on their Western journey, and it was only nowthat anything certain could be learned.

  The accounts, however, were most conflicting. Captain Hampton learntthat there were scores of diggings, and that fresh ones were beingopened every day. He had no interest in the reports of their wealth orin the accounts of great finds, beyond the fact that Truscott was likelyto make for one that seemed to offer the greatest advantages.

  It would probably be a newly started one, for there he would not findcompetitors already established. If he really intended to get up asaloon he would almost certainly go down to Sacramento to begin with, tolay in stores and liquors and purchase either a tent or a portablebuilding of some kind; and at any rate somewhat more reliableinformation than the conflicting rumours current at this station wouldbe obtainable there.

  He therefore determined not to turn aside to visit any of the camps, butto go straight down. There was no hurrying until they reached theplains; the horses had to be led every foot of the way. Frequently theroad was blocked by long lines of waggons, delayed by a wheel havingcome off one, or the animals having finally given in. Then there was nomoving until scores of hands had chopped down and cleared the trees soas to form a fresh track. In most cases, however, this was unnecessary,as the operation had been so frequently performed that there was a widebelt cleared on either side of the track.

  It was with a sensation of deep relief that they at last reachedSacramento. They had learnt on their way down that the place was crowdedand that they would do well to encamp just outside its limits. The townitself was indeed but the centre of a city of wood and canvas.Everywhere shanties and stores had been run up, and innumerable waggonsserved as the abodes of those who had crossed the plains in them. Thewharves were a bewildering scene. Craft of various sizes lay alongside,tier beyond tier, discharging their cargoes. The roadway was blockedwith teams. Numbers of men were carrying parcels and bales to theneighbouring warehouses. Waggons piled up with goods for the differentcentres, from which they were distributed by pack animals to distantmining camps, strove in vain to make their way out of the crush. Storesand saloons were alike crowded, the one with anxious emigrantspurchasing their outfit for the gold-fields, and the others with miners,rough sunburnt men in red shirts, breeches, and high boots, who had comedown to spend their hard-earned gold in a week's spree.

  Captain Hampton went from one to another of the hotels, showing thephotograph and endeavouring to obtain news, but it was seldom that hecould obtain
more than a moment's attention from the over-worked andharassed waiters, and in no case was the photograph recognised; heconcluded therefore that the party had, like himself, remained in theirwaggon. After many inquiries, he found that the greater portion of thediggings were either upon the Yuba River, or on creeks among the hillsthrough which it ran. He purchased diggers' outfits for himself andJacob, together with the necessary picks, shovels, and cradle, laid in afresh supply of flour, bacon, and groceries, and two days after hisarrival at Sacramento he started for the gold diggings.

  For a month he journeyed from camp to camp, and then struck off from theYuba to a spot sixteen miles away, where gold had been first found twomonths before, and a rush of diggers had taken place, owing to thereports of the richness of gold there. Already the trees on both sidesof the slopes above the creek had been cleared, and a town principallycomposed of huts formed of the boughs of trees had sprung up. Here andthere were tents, for the most part of blankets and rugs, three or fourrough wooden stores, one or two large tents, and one of framework withsides of planks and a canvas roof. All these had their designations inbright-coloured paint on white canvas affixed to them. After choosing aplace for his waggon on the outskirts of the encampment, Captain Hamptonleft Jacob to picket and feed the horses and light a fire, and then asusual proceeded in the first place to visit the saloons.

  He first went to the tents; sat for a time in each of them and chattedwith the miners who had just knocked off work and were drinking at thebars. Then he went to the more pretentious building, over which was thename 'Eldorado.' It was evidently the most popular establishment. Thetables were all filled with men eating and drinking, while there wasquite a crowd before the bar. He strode up there and almost started ashe saw between the heads of the men in front of him a girl whom hewould, had he met her anywhere else, have taken for Dorothy Hawtrey. Forthe moment he felt that he was incapable of asking in his ordinary voicefor a drink. At last the object of his long search had been gained, andthe woman he had followed half across the world was in front of him. Hemoved away, found a vacant seat at one of the tables, and seated himselfthere.

  A minute or two later a man came up and said briefly, 'Supper?'

  He nodded, and a plate of meat was presently placed before him. He atethis mechanically, and then, lighting a pipe, sat listening to theconversation of the miners at the table, one of whom as soon as hefinished his meal addressed him with the usual remark:

  'Just arrived, I reckon?'

  'Yes, I have only just come in. Doing well here?'

  'Nothing to grumble at. Where have you been working last?'

  'I tried my luck on several places on the Yuba, but could not get aclaim worth working.'

  'You won't get one here without paying for it, I can tell you; prettystiff price, too.'

  'I reckon to work by the day for a bit, till I have time to look round.I want to see what men are making before I buy in.'

  'I reckon you are about right, mate. Men who are in a hurry to get ashare of a claim generally get bitten. Besides, before a man with aclaim takes a partner in, he likes to know what sort of a chap he is towork with. Didn't I see you come in half an hour ago with a cart withthree horses?'

  'Yes.'

  'Pretty bad road, eh?'

  'No road at all; I just followed the line they had cut for the teams ofthe storekeepers. Though the cart wasn't half full, it was as much asthe three horses could do to get along with it.'

  'You ain't going to start a store yourself?'

  'No, I have a young mate; I work and he makes journeys backwards andforwards to Sacramento; he brings up anything the storekeepersorder--flour, bacon, spirits, tea and sugar; it more than pays for thekeep of the horses and for our grub, though I never take anything likefull loads.'

  'You are in luck,' the man said; 'it is the grub that swallows up theearnings. A man wants to find a quarter of an ounce a day to pay hisway.'

  'How long has this saloon been up?'

  'It came five weeks ago--a few days after the others; and they are justtaking dust in by handfuls, you bet. Men would come and pay if theydidn't get anything for their money but what they can see. That's adaisy, isn't it?'--and he nodded towards the bar. 'We are just proud ofher; there ain't such another in the hull diggings.'

  'Does she belong to this part of the country, or has she come from theEast?'

  'She is a Britisher--at least, the old man is, and I suppose hisdaughter is the same. Well, so long,'--and the miner strode out of thesaloon.