CHAPTER XII. HUNTING WEALTH BY FIRELIGHT.

Yes, Fred Hammond was not a little astounded, as he learned by what a singular means Teddy O’Doherty had discovered the cave of wealth, and he listened to the close of his characteristic narration without interruption. When he had finished, our hero remarked, with a laugh:

“Then I have all my pains for nothing, since Teddy has developed such a remarkable genius for dreams.”

“But yer intentions were honorable, as me father remarked, whin me mither fired the gun at his head, and by mistake missed him, and therefur we give you credit.”

“Yes,” assented the others, “we’re jist as pleased as though we had never heard of the cave afore.”

“Thar’s plinty of goold thar, is thar?” continued Teddy, in his eager way.

“Yes; I have been in the cave more than once, and have seen that there is an abundance--far more than you can carry away with you.”

“And haven’t yer taken any?”

“Not an ounce.”

“Why don’t yees?”

“That for which I was searching,” replied Hammond, with a smile, “was worth more to me than all the gold in the Rocky Mountains.”

“Spoken like a thrue lover; jist as I always respictfully mintioned the name of me love; but doesn’t yees intind to take any of the yaller stuff wid yer.”

“Well, perhaps I may pick out a few chunks, although I ain’t particular.”

Teddy now renewed his proposition to search the cavern at night. They could build a fire within it, and secure all the gold that was convenient to carry, and by daylight be ready to start on their homeward journey, while if they waited until the morrow, they would doubtless have to make a desperate fight with the Blackfeet, and very likely would be driven away entirely.

There was wisdom in this, and Hammond joined with him, for, he knew that, if the trappers should be ready on the morrow to start on their return, Lamora would be prepared also; and thus, such a proceeding would be entirely in his favor.

And so, after a few minutes more discussion, it was decided to visit the cave by night.

It was yet comparatively early in the evening, when the four men issued like so many shadows from “headquarters,” and noiselessly made their way up the cañon. Teddy and Black Tom each carried a large pile of faggots on their shoulders, while the tall stooping form of old Stebbins took the lead, with his rifle and pick.

The night was quite dark, there being scarcely any moon, while the sky was swept by numerous dark clouds, that seemed to indicate that a fierce storm was at no great distance.

They had gone but a short distance, when they paused and listened. Nothing but the mournful sighing of the wind could be heard, nor could any indication of danger be detected.

On up through the cañon they made their way--on up until they stood on the level prairie, when they turned off and plunged anew into the wild and rugged recesses of the mountains. Down again, until they seemed like miners descending into the bowels of the earth, when they reached the small stream in which gold had been discovered.

Along this they made their way, with the same noiseless celerity, no one uttering a word, till all four stood around the entrance of the gold mine.

Here they compared “notes,” and it was found that not one had detected any thing suspicious; every thing appeared auspicious.

Neither Black Tom nor old Stebbins had seen the interior of the cave, and they were naturally anxious to explore it. Hammond, therefore, volunteered to act as sentinel, while the three labored; but, before doing so, all four went in, and without striking a light, scattered and carefully reconnoitered the cavern to make sure that no enemies were within.

Everything proving satisfactory, Hammond returned to his station, and the fire was started. Teddy knew where to locate it, and when the flame flared up, the eyes of the hunters sparkled.

“B’ars and bufflers!” exclaimed Black Tom, in a frightened undertone, as he looked wildly about him, “don’t it beat every thing?”

“It does that,” assented old Stebbins, whose excitement was scarcely less; “ef we can tote that home, thar’ll be an end to our trappin’.”

Teddy threw on the fuel, and the illumination was found amply sufficient. The yellow nuggets were shining all about them, and all that they had to do was to gather them.

There was something grotesque and weird in the scene. The vast, corridor-like cave, lit up by the burning wood--the shining glitter of the jagged wall--the three figures with their swarthy faces lit up, not by the fire alone, but by the eager passion that was stirring each heart to its utmost depths--all this made up a picture, impressive, unnatural, and almost appalling.

A spell seemed to rest upon the men for a few minutes. They were so overcome by this palpable evidence of the immense wealth lying within their reach, that they were forced to wait for the reaction.

Stepping forward, old Stebbins swung his pick over his head, and buried its point several inches in the compact earth. Then, as he forced the handle back, several nuggets dropped to the ground.

“Pick ’em up,” he called out, in a husky voice, “and I’ll keep yer busy.”

Teddy and Black Tom gathered up the chunks, and deposited them in the huge sack, made of bear-skin, that had been brought for that purpose, while the old hunter plied the pick with a vigor that amounted to fury.

Only now and then did they speak, for they were swayed by strange emotions. Old Stebbins seemed literally tireless. Thump, thump, went his implement, like the throbbing of an engine. Now and then the fire was struck from the hardened point, and once it glanced with such violence as to fly from his hand, and go spinning, end over end, several yards away.

He walked to where it had fallen, and picking it up, without a word, returned to his labor, and drove it in again, the chunks and nuggets falling with such continuity that the others had little time for rest.

The perspiration streaming from his face, and the dust gathering about his countenance, gave him a strange and unnatural appearance, such as is noticed upon the faces of the restrictionists, when engaged at their hideous labor; but still he toiled on, silent, grim, and determined.

But the old trapper tired at last, and paused so exhausted that he could scarcely stand, and was unable to resist Teddy O’Doherty when he took the pick from his hand.

“It comes aisy to me, as I can swing it the same as a shillaleh.”

His voice sounded like that of another person, and the attempt at jocularity was terrible from its very ghastliness.

But Teddy swung the pick like a master of the business, and the fire glanced and flew, as the pieces were chipped off from the stones and rocks.

At first the work was comparatively easy, but it did not last long. The pieces were chipped off with greater difficulty, and were much smaller in size; but they were none the less rich, and the sack was gradually filled with its auriferous richness.

The fire was kept burning brightly, and by and by their task was finished. The three had loaded themselves down with the ore, until they had all they could hope to carry away with them.

Their wealth was now in their hands, and it only remained for them to transport it to where it could be made available.

They ceased from their toil and prepared to return home.

“Afore we go,” said Black Tom, “I’ll take a look outside.”

“What fur?” asked Teddy, in surprise.

“To see whether thar’s any ‘sign.’”

“But Hammond is there, ain’t he?”

“Yas, but there ain’t no telling what mought have tuk place while we’ve been peggin’ away inside.”

As Hammond was much less experienced in frontier life than they, the others saw the cause of Black Tom’s misgiving. The stealthy Blackfeet might have stolen upon him unawares, and, having silently slain him, as their race had often done under similar circumstances, might be lying in wait outside until the trappers should walk into the ambush.

So it was arranged that old Stebbins and Teddy O’Doherty should remain where they were, or rather should retreat into the darkness of the cavern, and await the return of their comrade from his reconnoissance.

Black Tom moved away with the silence and stealth that had characterized his approach to an Indian camp, frequently pausing and listening for some indication of the danger that he feared menaced them; but nothing reached his ears, save the dull, faint murmur of the stream behind as it rushed through its narrow cañon.

It seemed to have lighted up somewhat on the outside since they had entered the cavern, as he managed to discern the faint outline of the opening, partly screened as it was by its peculiar conformation.

“I guess every thing is all right,” he said, as he crept through the opening.

As he did so, a faint noise caught his ear, and looking somewhat to the left, he was startled by seeing the dreaded animal, with its rings and streaks, cantering awkwardly over the ground, while Fred Hammond was caressing and playing with it.

“B’ars and bufflers! what does that mean?” muttered the trapper, who could scarcely believe the evidence of his own eyes.

But such was the case; the dreaded creature, the horrid beast that was impervious to powder and ball, that crushed in the skull of a man at one blow, and was literally the terror of the country, was frolicking with their young friend!

“Come, old fellow, it is time you went home,” suddenly exclaimed the latter, as he ceased playing, and pointed down-stream.

The unknown obediently turned, and uttering its faint bark, trotted away, and speedily disappeared.

Black Tom concluded to say nothing of what he had witnessed to any one. He returned to his waiting friends and informed them that the way was clear. A few minutes later, and the three emerged from the cave, and, in the course of half an hour, safely reached “headquarters,” with their newly acquired wealth intact.