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The Silver Canyon: A Tale of the Western Plains, a fiction by George Manville Fenn

Chapter 42. The Silver City In The Plains

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_ CHAPTER FORTY TWO. THE SILVER CITY IN THE PLAINS

Bart did think differently when he cooled down, and, after a warm greeting from the Doctor, who praised his bravery and thanked him for bringing help, saw the dreary business of burying the fallen in those fierce charges; for he shuddered and thought of the horrors of such an occupation, even when the fights were in thorough self-defence.

Joses was full of excitement, and kept on shaking hands with the Beaver instead of with Bart.

"I knew he'd do it. I knew he'd do it," he kept on saying. "There arn't a braver lad nowhere, that I will say."

There was but little time for talking and congratulations, however, for the waggons had to be unloaded and camp formed for the lancers and Mexicans, the former being out in the plains driving in the Indian ponies that had not gone off with the Apaches, the result being that thirty were enclosed in the corral before dark, being some little compensation for the former loss.

Bart learned that night, when the captain and the governor were the guests of the Doctor, that beyond occasional alarms but little had gone on during his absence. The Indians had been there all the time, and his friends had always been in full expectation of an attack, night or day, but none had come.

The most serious threatening had been on the night when Bart set off, but the terrible storm had evidently stopped it, and the Doctor related how the rock had been struck by lightning, a large portion shattered, and the bodies of several Indians found there the next morning.

There was good watch set that night, not that there was much likelihood of the Indians returning, but to make sure; and then many hours were spent in rejoicing, for several of the adventurers had been giving way to despair, feeling that they had done wrong in coming, and were asking in dismay what was to become of them when the stores were exhausted.

"We can't eat silver," they had reproachfully said to the Doctor; and when he had reminded them how he had sent for help, they laughed him to scorn.

All murmurers were now silenced, and, light-hearted and joyous, the future of the silver canyon became the principal topic of conversation with all.

The next morning, as it was found that the Indians were still hovering about, Captain Miguel showed himself ready for any emergency. The Beaver and his men were at once mounted on the pick of the Indian ponies, and a start was made to meet the enemy.

So well was this expedition carried out, that, after a good deal of feinting and manoeuvring, the captain was enabled to charge home once more, scattering the Indians like chaff, and this time pursuing them to their temporary camp, with the result that the Apaches, thoroughly cowed by the attacks of these horsemen, who fought altogether like one man, continued their flight, and the whole of the horses and cattle, with many Indian ponies as well, were taken and driven back in triumph to the corral by the rocks.

This encounter with the Indians proved most effectual, for the portion of the nation to which they belonged had never before encountered disciplined troops; and so stern was the lesson they received, that, though predatory parties were seen from time to time, it was quite a year before any other serious encounter took place.

In the meantime, the governor had been so impressed with the value of the Doctor's discovery, that, without interfering in the slightest degree with his prospects, communications were at once opened up with Lerisco; more people were invited to come out, smelting furnaces were erected, the silver purified, and in less than six months a regular traffic had been established across the plains, over which mules laden with the precious metal, escorted by troops, were constantly going, and returning with stores for use in the mining town.

A town began to spring up rapidly, with warehouses and stores; for the mountain was no longer standing in solitary silence in the middle of the great plain. The hum of industry was ever to be heard; the picks of the miners were constantly at work; the great stamps that had been erected loudly pounded up the ore; and the nights that had been dark and lonely out there in the plains were now illumined, and watched with wonder by the roving Apaches, when the great silver furnaces glowed and roared as the precious metal was heated in the crucibles before being poured into the ingot-making moulds.

The growth of the place was marvellous, the canyon proving to be so rich in the finest kinds of silver, that the ore had but to be roughly torn out of the great rift that was first shown by the chief, and the profits were so enormous that Doctor Lascelles became as great a man in his way as the governor, while Bart, as his head officer and superintendent of the mine, had rule over quite a host.

Houses rose rapidly, many of them being of a most substantial kind, and in addition a large barrack was built for the accommodation of fifty men, who worked as miners, but had certain privileges besides for forming the troop of well-mounted lancers, whose duty it was to protect the mining town and the silver canyon from predatory bands of Apaches.

These lancers were raised and drilled by Captain Miguel, Bart being appointed their leader when he had grown to years of discretion--that is to say, of greater discretion than of old, and that was soon after Doctor Lascelles had said to him one day:

"Well, yes, Bart; you always have seemed to be like my son. I think it will be as well;" and, as a matter of course, that conversation related to Bart's marriage with Maude.

But, in spite of his prosperity and the constant demand for his services in connection with the mines and the increase of the town, Bart never forgot his delight in a ramble in the wilds; and whenever time allowed, and the Beaver and some of his followers had come in from some hunting expedition, there was just a hint to Joses, when before daybreak next morning a start was made either to hunt bison and prong-horn, the black-tailed deer in the woods at the foot of the mountain, or to fish in some part of the canyon. Unfortunately, though, the sparkling river became spoiled by degrees, owing to the enormous quantities of mine-refuse that ran in, poisoning the fish, and preventing them from coming anywhere near the mountain.

Still there were plenty to be had by those daring enough to risk an encounter with the Indians, and many were the excursions Bart enjoyed with Joses and the Beaver, both remaining his attached followers, though the latter used to look sadly at the change that had come over the land.

And truly it was a wondrous change; for, as years passed on, the town grew enormously--works sprang up with towering chimneys and furnaces, the former ever belching out their smoke; while of such importance did Silver Canyon City grow, and so great was the traffic, that mules and waggons could no longer do the work.

The result is easy to guess. There was a vast range of rolling plain to cross, a few deviations enabling the engineer, who surveyed the country with Apaches watching him, to avoid the mountains; and this being done, and capital abundant, a railway soon crept, like a sinuous serpent, from Lerisco to the mountain foot, along which panted and raced the heavily laden trains.

The Apaches scouted, and there was some little trouble with them at first, but they were punished pretty severely, though they took no lesson so deeply to heart as the one read their chief upon seeing the first train run along the rails.

Poor wretch! he had not much more sense than a bison; for he galloped his little pony right on to the line, and pressed forward to meet the engine after firing his rifle--he rode no more!

"Well, I dare say it's all right, Master Bart," said Joses one day; "everybody's getting rich and happy, and all the rest of it; but somehow I liked the good old times."

"Why, Joses?" said Bart.

"Because, you see, Master Bart, we seem to be so horrid safe now."

"Safe, Joses?"

"Yes, Master Bart," grumbled the old fellow; "there arn't no risks, no keeping watch o' nights, no feeling as it arn't likely that you'll ever see another morning, and it isn't exciting enough for me."

But then the Beaver came up with some news that made Joses' eyes sparkle.

"There's buffalo out on the far plain, captain," he said; "and I've seen sign of mountain sheep three days' journey up the canyon. Will the young chief Bart go?"

"That I will, Beaver," cried Bart. "To-morrow at daybreak."

"No; to-night," said the Beaver.

"That's the way," growled Joses. "Say yes, Master Bart."

Bart did say yes, as he generally would upon hearing such news as this-- these excursions carrying him back to the old adventurous days, when, quite a lad, he joined in a hunt to find provision for the little camp.

Then Black Boy would be saddled, for the sturdy little cob never seemed to grow old, except that there were a few grey hairs in his black coat; provisions were prepared, ammunition packed, good-byes said, and for a few days Bart and his friends would be off into the wilderness, away from the bustle and toil always in progress now at the silver canyon.


[THE END]
George Manville Fenn's Book: Silver Canyon: A Tale of the Western Plains

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