CHAPTER XXVI.

THE AURORA MINE AT LAST.

Oliver now found himself in an exceedingly perilous position. The rain came down in such a torrent that he could not see five yards ahead, and what had become of his mule he did not know.

He picked himself up from the spot where he had been thrown, and crouched for a moment under an overhanging rock. As he did so, a blinding flash of lightning swept by, and on the instant a tall tree that stood not over two hundred feet away was split from the top to the bottom, and was wrapped in a blaze of fire!

The sight nearly made Oliver faint. The air was charged with a peculiar odor,――probably sulphur,――and the boy gasped for breath.

“Struck by lightning!” he muttered. “Thank Heaven I was not nearer!” It took him several moments to recover sufficiently to proceed on his way. Then he stumbled on and on, falling half a dozen times. And all the while the rain came down in sheets, until he thought a perfect deluge had overtaken him.

“I wonder where the others are?” he muttered. “No use to call; my voice couldn’t be heard a dozen steps away in this wind.”

Ten minutes passed. He had progressed probably the eighth of a mile. The stones of the road cut into his soaked boots, and made his feet pain as they never had before. He was all out of breath, and sat down under an overhanging rock.

“If this is life in the mountains I want none of it,” was his thought. “If a rock should roll down upon me I would be crushed into a jelly.”

He wished earnestly that he was once more with the others. What if he should miss them by the way? The thought made him shiver.

“I wouldn’t be alone out here for a million dollars!” he cried aloud, and his voice sounded strange to himself. “I must hurry and catch up by some means.”

As he concluded, a peculiar noise ahead made him start. What was it? Some wild animal?

He sincerely hoped not. His weapons were all upon the mule’s back, and if attacked he would be next to defenseless.

The sound came from a bend above. For several seconds Oliver hesitated about proceeding.

And yet it had to be done. He must go ahead; there was no other way.

While hesitating, the sound was repeated. But this time it was louder and more capable of interpretation. In spite of himself the boy gave a low laugh.

“Dobbins!” he cried. And in a moment more he was around the bend.

True enough, there stood the mule, shivering and braying all to himself.

It did not take Oliver long to climb upon the animal’s back, and once there he urged the beast on as before. Dobbins had had a short rest, and struck out well.

“Now to find the others. They cannot be so very far away. Get up, Dobbins, you rascal!”

In a few moments more the narrow pass came to an end and Oliver found himself upon an open plain. He tried to peer through the darkness and rain.

To the southward he thought he could discern three figures moving about. Were they his party?

“I ought to be sure before I move away,” he told himself. “Suppose I fire a shot and see?”

No sooner had the thought entered his mind than he decided to act upon it. The sound of the report had hardly died away before an answering shot was wafted back to him.

“Thank goodness I have found them,” he cried. And the next instant he was off at the top of Dobbins’s speed.

Gus came out to meet him. Despite the rain the stout youth’s face was covered with a broad smile.

“Crickety! but I’m glad you’re here!” he called out. “I was afraid the storm would swallow you up.”

“And it nearly did,” replied Oliver; “I’ve had a narrow escape.”

By the time they had reached the others the rain began to abate as rapidly as it had come on. The dark, angry clouds broke up in all directions, and presently a glint of sunshine appeared far in the west.

“Always act that way,” said Cottle. “This is the blamedest region for such showers ever was.”

All gathered around Oliver to hear what he had to say, and all agreed that his escape was miraculous.

“After this we must be more careful to keep together,” said Mr. Whyland gravely. “He might have lost his life and none of us been the wiser. I did not miss you, Oliver, till we were out here.”

“Nor did any of us,” put in Cottle. “I tried to look back for you, but the rain was too thick; I couldn’t see a thing.”

In half an hour the sun was shining as brightly as ever. As the day was warm all hands took off their coats and hung them on their mules’ backs to dry.

“We may as well make camp before any of us take cold,” remarked Mr. Whyland; “it is only about an hour from sunset.”

“There is a good spot just a quarter of a mile farther,” said Cottle. “We will be there in five minutes.”

Quarter of an hour later they were in camp. The tent was pitched on a bit of high, sandy ground, and a roaring fire was started just outside of the entrance. The following day was Sunday. Cottle would have gone ahead as usual; but the boys and Mr. Whyland voted to remain in camp and take a rest, and let the mules do the same.

“Besides,” said Oliver, “nothing will ever be gained by breaking in on the Sabbath when there is no absolute necessity for so doing.”

“You are right,” said Gus.

“I like to hear young men talk like that,” put in Mr. Whyland; “it shows a proper spirit. Let us spend the day as it should be spent.”

“Not many men keep the day out here,” remarked Cottle. “Many of them don’t know what a Sunday is after they once leave the city.”

The entire Sunday was a beautiful one. After breakfast Mr. Whyland read several chapters out of a Bible he had brought along, and offered prayer; and then they took a long walk about the neighborhood, leaving Cottle lying in the door of the tent smoking his pipe and watching the mules.

“As I have heard remarked, this is God’s country, and so in very truth it is,” said Mr. Whyland. “Some day all these hills will be dotted with farmhouses and barns, and the sound of the thresher and reaper will be heard on every hand.”

“It is a rich country,” returned Oliver. “I would not wish for better farming lands than these.”

“And yet all who come here do so only for gold and silver,” put in Gus.

“It will not be so long. The people who mine must live, and somebody must raise the stuff for them to eat.”

“In that direction lies the Aurora mine,” went on Mr. Whyland, pointing with his finger to the south-east. “Cottle says we ought to reach it by Tuesday noon.”

“Colonel Mendix has already arrived there, I suppose,” said Oliver. “Won’t he be surprised when we appear on the scene?”

“No doubt he will do all in his power to outwit us.”

“But he shall not do it,” said Oliver decidedly. And he meant it from the bottom of his heart.

Sunrise on Monday found them once more on the way. Riding was now much easier, and they made rapid progress, all traveling side by side.

That night they encamped near the edge of another mountain torrent. It was a beautiful spot, the prettiest they had yet stopped at.

Oliver sat on a flat rock, his chin in his hands. It was the last night’s camp on that lone spot. What did the morrow hold in store?

All through the night he slept but little. Once Gus awoke and noticed it. Rolling over, he whispered,――

“Don’t worry, old boy; it will be all right, mark my words.”

“I trust so,” replied Oliver. “I wish it was over.”

He was the first to be stirring, and he cautioned Cottle to halt as soon as the mining district should appear in sight. Then in a short quarter of an hour they were off.

On and over the plain, five, ten, fifteen miles. Then they began slowly to ascend a steep but small mountain, halting at the top.

“There,” said the guide, pointing to a spot not a quarter of a mile away, “there is the Cortez mine, and just below it is the Aurora!”