CHAPTER XXVIII

THE SIXTY NUGGETS

For a moment the boy and beast stood gazing at each other. Bob felt a chill of fear run through him, and, as he saw the quivering of the brute, and noted the switching tail, he felt that he wanted to scream--to cry out for help.

Bob noticed that the mountain lion was inch by inch edging itself along the tree trunk, to get to the end.

“And when he does,” reasoned the boy, “he’s going to jump--and jump on me!”

He wanted to turn and look behind him to see how close his friends might be, and yet he steeled himself against any such action. For, somewhere, he had read that the best thing to do, when confronted by a wild beast, is to remain confronting it, looking it directly in the eyes.

“It’s my only chance!” thought Bob. “The minute I turn around he’s going to spring.”

He listened intently, but could hear no footsteps approaching, and realized that he had gotten far ahead of the others.

“Oh, why didn’t I bring my rifle along?” thought Bob. “None of us did, I guess. We thought so much of the gold that we didn’t dream we would need guns!”

Nearer and nearer crept the beast, and now, added to its quivering body and switching tail, there came low, menacing growls, to inspire more terror in the intended victim.

“It won’t be much longer now,” thought Bob. “I’ve just got to turn and run. I can’t stand facing him out! I’m going to jump back, and maybe I can get behind a big rock, or something, long enough to yell for help. Here goes! I’m going to dodge!”

Something of his intention must have, in some way, been made manifest to the lion, or perhaps a sight movement on the part of the lad carried this intelligence to the beast. For, just as Bob was about to turn and flee, he saw the beast give a final quiver, and then, with a roar, launch itself into the air from the tree trunk. At the same moment a voice shouted:

“Fall, Bob! Lie down! Flop to the ground!”

Wondering why this advice was given, but recognizing that it came from some of his party, the stout lad threw himself forward. He saw the beast hurling itself toward him, and, a second later, there came a sharp report.

The body of the mountain lion seemed to crumple up, to become a knot in midair, and then, fairly turning a somersault, the beast crashed to the ground just beyond where Bob lay.

“Roll to one side! Get out of the way!” yelled the voice again, and Bob had presence of mind enough to obey. He knew that the beast, in its death agony, might reach and claw him. So Bob, being unable to do anything else, rolled to one side. Then, if ever, he was thankful for his fleshiness, for he did not so much mind the rough rocks over which his course took him.

Once more there came the cracking sound of a shot, and then Bob, raising his head, saw the body of the lion give a final quiver and lie still. It was dead.

“Great Peter, that was a close call!” exclaimed Jim Nestor, coming up as Bob arose. “I was afraid I couldn’t plug him with my revolver, but I managed to do it.”

“Did--did you shoot?” asked Bob, for his breath was still a little short from the fright and the exertion. “Did you shoot him, Jim?”

“I did, I’m thankful to say. I was following you up, looking for the gold nuggets, when I happened to see the pickle you were in. I knew there was no time to yell to the others for help, and less time to go back for a rifle. I happened to have my big revolver with me, but I knew it was taking desperate chances trying to plug a mountain lion with it at that distance. But it was all the chance I had, and I took it.”

“And you winged him,” observed Bob, thankfully, as he looked at the dead body. It was a large specimen of the mountain lion family.

“Yes, I was lucky enough to get him with the first bullet,” went on the miner; “but I took a second shot to make sure. He was coming right at you; wasn’t he?”

“He was that!” exclaimed Bob, as he shook hands with Jim, and there was much meaning in the clasp of their palms.

“What’s the matter? What happened?” cried Jerry, running up from behind a turn in the trail. He was followed by the others. “Is anyone hurt?”

“That fellow is,” replied Bob, with a short laugh, as he indicated the lion with his foot.

“Oh!” exclaimed Jerry, and then he understood, though Bob insisted on giving details.

“Well, after this,” spoke Ned, “we had better take our guns with us. There may be more of the brutes here.”

“I shouldn’t wonder,” replied Mr. Brill. “I know one chased me when I was here before. Yes, we’d better go armed.”

“And keep closer together,” added Jerry. “Hi, Professor!” he called, for the scientist had wandered off some distance to the side. “Don’t go so far. Come here!”

“Have you found the gold?” shouted Mr. Snodgrass, as he came running up.

“No, and it doesn’t look as though we would,” said Ned, half discouragedly. Then the professor was told of what had happened, and urged to remain near the others.

“Yes, we’ll find it!” declared Harvey Brill. “Even if it was washed out of the pocket where I hid it, we’ll find it sooner or later. Those nuggets can’t have been washed out of the valley.”

“But the valley is a big place, and besides, Noddy Nixon and his crowd may come back any time, and make trouble for us,” went on Ned.

“Oh, you must have a grouch!” exclaimed Jerry, with a grin. “Don’t cross the bridge of trouble until you hear the rustling of its wings,” he misquoted.

Once the excitement caused by Bob’s danger had passed, the party resumed the search for the gold. They followed the course of the flood, plainly visible, but, after looking carefully for some distance, they found nothing, and even Mr. Brill began to look disheartened.

“I think we had better bring the airship down this way,” suggested Jerry, late that afternoon, when they had gone about two miles from it. “We won’t do any more prospecting back there, and we might as well have the comforts of it with us, and not have to retrace our steps.”

They agreed with him, and alone Jerry went for, and brought up the _Comet_. Then, after a short search about the vicinity of her new anchoring ground, they gave up work for the day, as it was getting dark.

“We’ll find those nuggets sure--to-morrow!” declared Mr. Brill.

But they did not, nor on the next day, though they searched carefully. Even Professor Snodgrass forgot his desire for new specimens in the wish to help locate the treasure. But it seemed that it was gone forever, having been washed away by the flood and landslide, and deposited in some new hiding-place destined never to be found. Mr. Brill was much discouraged, and the others shared his feelings.

“I guess we’ll have to go back home and report a failure,” said Bob, gloomily. “Anyhow, we haven’t got much more grub, and maybe we’d better take a flight out of here and get some--that is, if we’re going to keep on with the search.”

“And that’s just what we’re going to do!” exclaimed Jerry. “We’re going on with this search. What are you talking about, Bob? There’s grub enough for a long time yet. Don’t you worry.”

The next day they took up the search again, but with hearts growing more and more despondent all the while. Several times Jerry looked off to the distant cliffs, as if to see if he and his companions were being watched by the grub-stakers, or Noddy Nixon. But if their enemies were there they did not show themselves.

It was coming on toward evening. They had again moved the airship, and had passed the middle of the valley.

“We’re on the Canadian side of the Border now,” remarked Mr. Brill, as he grubbed around among the rocks.

“Are we?” asked Ned, indifferently. “Well, I don’t see that it’s any luckier for us than the good old United States were.”

They were about to give up the search for the day. The sun was just sinking down behind the cliffs of the valley, when Professor Snodgrass, who had wandered off to one side again, gave a cry. It was a shout of delight.

“He’s found something!” yelled Bob.

“The gold! Is it the gold, Mr. Snodgrass?” asked Jerry.

“No!” was the disappointing answer. “But oh, boys come here! I have just seen the largest and most perfect specimen of a yellow jumping spider I ever laid my eyes on! Bring me a small net and a box, while I keep him in sight! Oh, you beauty. You are almost as valuable as the luminous snakes!” and the scientist fairly danced up and down in front of a hole in the rocks.

“A yellow jumping spider!” half groaned Ned. “I thought he had found some of the nuggets.” Still, as the professor had always helped them, they could do no less than to act as he requested. Bob brought an insect net from the scientist’s room on the airship, and Jerry got a specimen box. Ned and the two men followed to where Mr. Snodgrass stood.

“Where is it?” asked Mr. Brill, somewhat indifferently, as the scientist got ready to make his capture.

“Down there, between those two stones,” was the answer, and Mr. Snodgrass pointed. “See that yellow lump? That’s a fine yellow jumping spider. I----”

But Mr. Brill interrupted him with a yell.

“Yellow jumping spider!” shouted the miner. “Not in a thousand years! Great Peter, boys! The professor’s gone and done it!”

“Done what?” demanded Jerry.

“Found the sixty nuggets of gold! Hurray! That’s no yellow spider! It’s a yellow nugget--one of the big ones! Wow! We’re on the trail at last, for where there’s one there’ll be more! Yellow spider nothing! That’s yellow gold!” and plunging his hand and arm down in the hole between the loose stones, the miner brought up a lump of yellow gold as large as his fist.

“The first of the sixty nuggets!” he shouted. “Now to find the others!”