Part 7

The highest price was paid for labor, and Dumpy soon engaged to drive a cart for two hundred and fifty dollars per month, but he determined to make this arrangement only for a short time, till he could get money enough to go out prospecting in the mining districts.

This he soon accomplished, but he found a life in the mines even harder than before the mast, but the golden future was before him, and he persevered.

He and another young adventurer built a cabin together by a little spring of clear, bubbling water.

They worked early and late, with the wearisome pick and shovel for the precious gold that was to pave the pathway of their lives with happiness, but often night found them disappointed and weary, and they would return to their lonely cabins, cook and eat their coarse supper, and lie down upon the hard floor, wrap their blankets around them, with heavy and hopeless hearts. But thank God, sunshine and the fresh morning brings renewed life and hope to young hearts.

One morning when Dumpy awoke he found his companion had risen and gone out before him, so he went out alone, thinking, "who knows what will turn up before night, I may become a millionaire. I'll try my luck alone to-day;" so he did not go to the ledge they had been prospecting the day before, but started off in a new direction.

All day long he worked diligently, but the sunset found him as poor as the dawning, and quite worn out, he threw himself down upon the ledge to rest a little before going home. "Ah, me!" thought he, sadly, "how long the poor mother will have to wait for her palace."

As the sunset deepened into twilight, he rose, and shouldering his pick and shovel, started for the cabin. "I can not call it home," he said to himself, "there is no mother there."

He had not gone far, before a little shrill voice arrested him, and looking down, he saw a little old man, sitting among the loose stones, rubbing his foot and ankle, and groaning piteously.

He was very quaintly dressed, in a little red jacket, and wore a Spanish hat with little gold bells around it, and his long gray beard swept the ground, as he sat dismally among the rocks.

"Oh, dear! I cannot move," said the little man; "I have sprained my foot, will not you help me home? Oh dear! oh dear!" and he moaned so piteously that Dumpy, who was kind-hearted, was very sorry for him; so he took the old man up in his arms as tenderly as if he had been an infant.

The old man pointed out the way, and Dumpy trudged wearily on, for though he was no bigger than a child of eight years old, he seemed quite heavy to Dumpy. After working all day with the pick and shovel, and finding nothing, his heart was heavy with hope deferred. "If I had found gold to-day," thought he, "a light heart would have made a light burden; but thank God I am well, and this poor man suffers fearfully."

Poor Dumpy! He went on, down the cañon, then up the mountain, it seemed to him for miles; at last the little man pointed to a crevice in the rock, through which Dumpy managed with some difficulty to creep; but as he went on it widened, and suddenly opened into a large cavern.

"Go on," said the old man, sharply, as Dumpy stopped and gazed around with astonishment. So he went on till they came to a large hall sparkling with crystal, and glowing with precious stones.

A large chandelier hung from the roof, and cast a flood of softened light through the whole cavern, and Dumpy could see in the stone floor large masses of pure yellow gold.

He saw in the huge irregular pillars that rose to the dome of the cavern, great veins of the precious ore, and everywhere it was scattered about with the most lavish profusion.

Curious golden figures, carved with strange devices, stood in the niches, and there were couches with golden frames, and tables of gold, so that the light, reflected from the clear crystal dome, glittering with shining pendants, by the softening yellow tinge, was mellow and pleasant.

Poor Dumpy had been so long in the twilight and darkness, that he was dazzled by the brilliant scene, and for a few moments was obliged to close his eyes, and when he opened them, he saw that he was surrounded by a large crowd of the little people, who were full of anxious fears about the old man he held in his arms, but he assured them he was suffering only from a sprain, which, though very painful, was not dangerous. They gathered anxiously around the little man as he laid him upon a couch.

He soon discovered that the man he had assisted was king over the little people who guard the mountain treasures, covering the rich places with unpromising stones and earth, and often misleading the honest miner by scattering grains of the precious metal in waste places; thus it is we hear so often of disappointed hopes, and abandoned mines.

After they had in some measure relieved the suffering of their chief, they turned to Dumpy, who stood in the most profound astonishment, drinking in all he saw or heard.

"You have done me a great kindness," said the chief; "and, though it is our business to mislead miners, we can be grateful, and you may now claim any reward you desire."

"I have saved your ruler," said Dumpy, looking at the crowd of little people, and trying to think of something great to ask as a reward.

"Our chief! our king!" cried all the little people, together. "Ask what you will and it shall be granted."

"I would be great as well as rich," thought Dumpy, so he said aloud: "Make me emperor of all the mines, and let all the miners pay tribute to me."

"It shall be so," said the king. Then he called one of his servants to bring the golden crown and scepter, and bidding Dumpy kneel before him, he placed the scepter in his hand and the crown upon his head, and striking him a sharp blow upon his shoulder, he said, "Arise, Emperor Norton.

"As long as you preserve this crown and scepter from moth or rust, dew or fog, you shall be the true emperor of all the mines in California and Nevada, and all the miners shall pay you yearly tribute, but if you lose either crown or scepter, or moth, rust, midnight dews and damps fall upon them, they will fade away, and you will be emperor in name only, and the miners shall pay you no yearly tribute."

"So let it be," said the newly-made emperor; and they all sat down to a table spread with every delicacy, and feasted till the noon of the following day.

When the emperor bade the knights of the mountain adieu, the little gray king said: "Beware of the dews and damps of the night," and he started for his cabin.

"I will first visit my old comrade," he said, "though he is now one of my subjects, I will not be proud and haughty."

One of the little men ran before him, and led the way out of the cave into the sunlight, which was so bright that the emperor shaded his eyes with his hand, and when he had removed it the little man had disappeared.

The emperor looked around, but could see no trace of him; even the crevice through which he had passed, was nowhere to be seen.

"It is a wonderful dream," said he; but no! there was the golden crown upon his head, and the scepter in his hand.

"I will find that cave," thought he; so he began to look for it very eagerly, till the lengthening shadows told of the coming of evening, and he thought of the gray king's warning, "Beware of the dews and damps of night."

"Oh dear! if I should lose the tribute money," he said, in great distress; "I should be emperor but could build no palace for the mother, nor could I marry the prettiest woman in the world, and supply her innumerable wants;" so he started in great haste for the camp, always keeping fast hold of the crown and scepter.

On he rushed till the shades of twilight filled the deep cañon, through which he was obliged to pass, then he broke into a run, crying, "Oh me! if I should be too late! too late! now that my hopes are crowned with success. Too late! too late!"

"Haste makes waste," and so the emperor found it. He lost the path and became entangled in brush and rocks, until he became almost wild with despair.

The night came on with a heavy mist that near morning deepened into rain.

With the gray twilight of the dawning, weary and worn, he reached his cabin door, but the golden crown and scepter had passed away into the mists of night.

The poor emperor told of his wanderings to his comrades, and mourned over the night in which his crown and scepter had departed from him, but they only laughed, saying, "You have been dreaming again, Emperor Norton."

He never took the pick and shovel again. "Shall an emperor work," he would say, "while thousands of his subjects roll in luxury?"

An emperor, he thought, should reside in the chief city of his realm, so he left the mines and came to San Francisco.

Here for years he has lived, always wearing a well-worn suit of blue, with epaulettes upon the shoulders, which, perhaps, might have been an unmentioned gift of the gray king of the mountains.

At the table of all restaurants and hotels he is a free and welcome guest, and all places of amusement are open to him; in fact, wherever you go in San Francisco, you are almost sure to meet the Emperor Norton.

DEATH'S VALLEY;

OR,

THE GOLDEN BOULDER.

Years ago, even before what Californians understand to be the "early days," Dick Fielding was promoted to a captaincy in the United States Army.

Merry days were those, while he was stationed near the metropolitan city. Good pay, little work, brilliant parties to attend, and beautiful women to make love to. Love making seemed the natural element of the gay young captain, and thanks to his handsome face and shining epaulettes, he was very successful.

In this world our dear delights are but fleeting as the smiles of an April day—so thought poor Dick as he sat one morning about eleven o'clock at his luxurious breakfast, reading a dispatch from head-quarters that doomed him to the wilderness of Fort Tejon, far below the quaint old Spanish town of Los Angelos.

'Twas a sad day for the gallant young captain, but all his sighs and regrets were unavailing. There was no reprieve—orders must be obeyed. Fortunately Dick was of an elastic temperament, and the love of adventure and the charm of novelty which the new country possessed for him soon returned to him that zest for life which youth and health seldom entirely lose.

Southern California has a most generous climate, producing in the valleys the luxurious vegetation of the tropics, and on the hills and mountains the hardier products of the temperate zone.

Dick was a favorite among the officers, social and joyous in his disposition, he became the life of the garrison. He was a fine horseman, and often he would join a party of the Mexican rangers in their excursions, and ride for days over the beautiful country round Fort Tejon.

He could shoot an arrow very handsomely, and by his easy good nature he was soon on friendly terms with the Indians, who in that part of the country are so mixed with the native Californians or Mexicans that it is difficult to distinguish the races.

He became an expert in all the athletic sports of the country, but with all he could do, the monotony of a life at Fort Tejon was very wearisome to him; so when he found a beautiful young girl among the Indians, he plunged recklessly into his old habit, of love making; and in a few weeks he was domesticated in a little adobe house near the fort with his pretty Indian bride, who amused him for the time like any other novelty of the country.

She, poor simple child of the wild-wood, worshiped her handsome, blue-eyed husband, and thought his hair and beard had stolen their golden beauty from the glowing sunshine.

After a time a little one came to the cottage, and the young Indian mother was very happy in loving the father and child who made the wilderness a heaven for her.

Weeks, months, and years passed by, and Captain Fielding longed intensely to visit the gay world again. He had grown weary of his Indian wife, and his son in his eyes was only a young papoose, of whom he was very much ashamed.

At length the order came for his reprieve. He was summoned to return to the Atlantic States; but of this he said nothing to his wife. One bright spring morning he left her looking out after him from the door of the little adobe, holding her three-year old boy in her arms, smiling and telling him in her own soft language that dear papa would come back at evening.

The burning fingers of remorse pressed heavily upon the father's heart as he looked upon the pretty picture—but only for a moment. He turned away, saying with a sigh of relief: "She'll soon forget me, for some Indian Chief, perhaps," and was gone from her sight out into the distance, on toward the great busy world.

Night came on with its damps and darkness, wrapping the heart of the young wife in its shroud of shadows, never to be lifted till the brightness of the spirit land made glad morning shine about her.

Day by day she watched the shadows lengthen, hoping when the sun went down in the crimson west he would return; but the golden moonlight found her watching in vain, swaying her sleeping boy too and fro in her arms, and drearily singing the song of her heart, in a voice from which the gladness of hope was fast dying out.

She called him Dick, for his father, and with a perseverance which only deep love could give her, talked his father's language to him in her pretty, imperfect way.

The little one grew to be a strong, handsome boy, with a dark Spanish face, and eyes full of fire, or love as his mood moved them. In some things he was like his father; gay, dashing, and attractive in his disposition, he became a great favorite with the officers at Fort Tejon, who taught him to read and write and many other things, much to the delight of his mother, who would say with tears in her dark eyes: "If his father lives to return he will thank you better than I can."

In the spring she would say: "Before the orange-flowers ripen to golden fruit he will return," and in the autumn, "before the fair buds gladden the green hillsides he will be here!"

But springs and autumns passed, till the broken spirit, hopeless and weary with waiting, passed into the unknown future, and they buried her where the first rays of the morning sun fell upon the graveyard flowers.

Dick loved his mother fondly, and after she died he grew more wild and daring than ever, but with the undercurrent of his nature flowed all the subtle instinct of the Indian.

Often at Fort Tejon he heard of the great world far beyond the wilderness, and he learned that gold was the talisman that opened the gates of earthly paradise. So he said in his heart, "I will have gold!"

Young as he was and wild in his nature, he saw a witching paradise in the soft blue eyes and sunny curls of the Colonel's young daughter Madeline, but no one knew that he worshiped her, no one but God and his own heart.

Among the Indian and Spanish boys Dick was chief. To the lowliest he was gentle, to the proudest, superior, and by a wonderful magnetic power in one so young he bowed them all to his will. No one among them thought to question his bidding; he was the ruler, and without a thought they obeyed him. He could ride fearlessly the wildest horse, send the truest arrow from the bow, and laughed carelessly at danger as though he bore a charmed life.

One evening he lay upon the green grass before an Indian encampment, looking dreamily up at the great golden moon as it sailed along through the clear summer sky, surrounded by the paler light of the modest stars, and thinking how Madeline was like the moon, queen of all maidens.

The rest were beautiful, but in comparison with the sweet Madeline were but attendant lights. Then he thought of the great world where one day Madeline would shine fairest of the fair, and that before he could enter the charmed circle he must win the talisman that would give him every thing, but best of all, sweet Madeline.

Near him the Indian youths and maidens had gathered round an old man of their tribe, who was telling them the legend of the "Golden Boulder."

"Yes," said the old man, "white men would risk their lives for it, if they could only find the valley, but even the Indians except one tribe who make war upon all others, have lost trace of it; but there in the center rises a great round boulder, yellow as the full moon, all gold, pure gold!"

"Where?" cried Dick, springing with one bound into the circle. Then for the first time he listened to the old tradition of the Golden Boulder in Death's Valley.

"Far to the south," said the old Indian, "lies a country rich in gold and precious stones. The tribe who inhabits that region makes war with all who dare to cross the boundaries of their hunting-grounds. In some way they have become possessed of guns from which they shoot golden bullets with unerring precision.

"The country is shut in by mountains, and the great Colorado pours its waters through it. Far into the interior, deep down in the shadows, lies Death's Valley, and in its center rises the great Golden Boulder, and round it are scattered innumerable precious stones, whose brightness pierces the dusky shadows with their shining light."

The tradition came from an old man of the hostile tribe who many years ago was taken prisoner. Many adventurous Mexicans and Spaniards had sought Death's Valley, but none had ever returned from its shroud of shadows.

Dick listened to the story with deep attention. For days the thought of it pursued him, and at night when he closed his eyes the great round boulder of gold rose before him, and the glittering stones made the night shining as the day.

He could learn nothing more from the Indians than the old tradition, but every day he became more resolved, at any hazard, to win the great talisman, gold, which alone could open the door of happiness and greatness for him; even if he were obliged to seek it among the shadows in Death's Valley, he would win it.

It was the early days of February, which in Lower California is the spring time of the year. Golden oranges still hung upon the trees amid the shining leaves and snow-white flowers, the buds of promise for the coming year, while everywhere gorgeous flowers brightened the fragrant hillsides and dewy valleys.

Without a word of farewell to any one, Dick started out into the trackless wilderness alone, with only his rifle and a small hatchet to blaze the trees now and then. Guided by the Indian's unerring instinct, he reached the Colorado, strong and vigorous as when he left the neighborhood of Fort Tejon.

He had wanted for nothing; his trusty gun had supplied him with game, and the fruits of the wild-wood had furnished him dessert. Thus alone in the luxuriance of that sunny clime he wandered for days, but still no trace of the valley, or the Golden Boulder; but he was not disheartened.

Day and night, the gorgeous imagery that decked the future, gathered round him. As the reward of all this toil and lonely wanderings, he saw his golden hopes fulfilled, and the sunny curls of the Colonel's daughter resting upon his bosom. For this hope more than all others he labored on.

It was the close of an excessively hot day. The dewy coolness of evening was delightful to the weary gold-seeker, and he threw himself down upon his couch of leaves, under the shadow of the forest trees, thinking the way was long and weary, and feeling the desolation of the solitary wilderness, casting its long shadows upon his heart.

But toil, is the mother of forgetfulness, and sleep was casting its drowsy mantle over his saddened musings, when his quick ear, detected a sound like a light, but rapid, footstep among the dried leaves. Nearer and nearer it came, snapping the brittle twigs that covered the ground.

He hastily concealed himself, and waited in almost breathless stillness the approach of wild beasts, or wilder Indians.

A moment more, and a young Indian girl appeared, bearing upon her head a birchen bucket. Light and graceful, with the freedom of the woods, she walked along until she came to a clear spring, and bending over, she filled her bucket with the pure fresh water.

Just then, a rare cluster of flowers attracted her eye, and with a maiden's love of the beautiful, she stopped to gather it, then poising her bucket upon her head, she would have started for the encampment, but she was fastened spell-bound to the spot, by an unconquerable terror.

Just opposite, and crouched ready to spring upon her, she saw a huge panther, his large eyes, like great balls of fire, glaring out from the intense shadow, already devoured her. She was paralyzed by an intense terror. The fearful eyes fascinated and bewildered her. In them she saw the frail bridge, that separated her from the spirit land.

She could not move, or utter a sound. The panther crouched lower among the tangled grass. A moment more, and he would spring upon her. The stream was drawing nearer, the bridge was shorter, from those fearful eyes, she could see the gleaming of the lights of spirit land, then a flash! a sharp report of the rifle, and the panther sprang into the air, and fell at the feet of the affrighted maiden!

She lived! but the waters of the spring were glowing red and warm with the lifeblood of the terrible beast. His glowing eyes grew dim and sightless, in the river of death, and in its place, to her sight appeared the handsome young gold-seeker.

With all her intense emotion, she was calm, as only an Indian maiden could be, but a deep glowing flush burned through the darkness of her cheek, as with timid grace, she gave her hand to her deliverer, and through the dusk of evening led him to the encampment, and to the chieftain, her father.

There was great excitement in the encampment when they saw the young girl returning with a stranger. Fiercely the Indians of the hostile tribe gathered round them, for the girl clung tremblingly to his hand, and by the fitful firelight he saw the dark scowls of passion gathering upon their faces, yet a thrill of joy filled his heart, he now knew he was by the camp-fire of the wild tribe of whom nothing was known, save their uncompromising cruelty, and that with them rested the secret of Death's Valley, the great Golden Boulder, and the glittering stones.

He had saved their chieftain's daughter, and they would not harm him, for well he knew the power of gratitude upon the savage heart. Calm and resolute he stood among them, without the shadow of a fear darkening his face, until he saw the fierce fires of cruelty that shot from their wild eyes soften into the kindly light of gratitude and friendship, as the young girl told her story with all the pathos and ardor which the almost miraculous escape, had awakened in her heart.

The old chief loved his daughter with a savage intensity. She was all the Great Spirit had left him, of many sons and daughters, and he felt that he would be ready to battle with death itself, but he could not give up his only child.

There was a mist over his fierce eyes, and a trembling about his cruel heart, as he bade the stranger a kindly welcome, who but for his good fortune in saving the girl, would have been condemned to a torturing death, unheard of.

So it was at last by this unforeseen accident, that the young gold-seeker slept peacefully by the smouldering camp-fire of the most cruel, relentless, tribe of the Colorado, and dreamed of his blue-eyed darling, far away over the desert waste, safely sheltered in Fort Tejon.

The morning dawned rich with the glowing warmth of a Southern climate, and though our young hero woke early, he was wearied from long travel, and lay for some time with half-closed eyes, lazily watching the Indians as they busied themselves about the encampment.