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To Win or to Die: A Tale of the Klondike Gold Craze, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 11. A Coward Blow |
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_ CHAPTER ELEVEN. A COWARD BLOW The two men who had been fighting hard to reach Dallas, the sound of whose strokes seemed nearer than ever, rushed to their companion, who had begun chafing the buried man's face and temples, with the result that Abel raised his head again and looked wildly round. "I thought he was a goner, my sons," whispered the big fellow. "Go on back to your chap; I'll manage here." The two men, who were excited by their task, rushed back again, and their companion moistened Abel's lips. The man began to work his pick again with wonderful rapidity, enlarging the hole, and every now and then giving a furtive glance at the prisoner and another in the direction where his companions were tearing out the icy snow. The great drops stood on the big Cornishman's face as he toiled away, enlarging the hole down beside Abel Wray, and all the time he kept up a cheery rattle of talk about how useful a tool a pick was, and how the lad he was helping--and whom he kept on calling "my son"--ought to have brought one of the same kind for the gold working to come; but the look in his big grey eyes looked darker and more sombre as he saw a grey aspect darkening the countenance of the prisoner--the air he had seen before in the faces of men whom he had helped to rescue after a fall of roof in one of the home mines. "He'll be a goner before I get him out if I don't mind," he said to himself, and the pick rattled, and the icy snow flashed as he struck here and there, only ceasing now and then to stoop and throw out some big lump which he had detached. "Better fun this, my son," he said with a laugh, "if all this was rich ore to be powdered up. Fancy, you know--gold a hundredweight to the ton. Rather different to our quartz rock at home, with just a sprinkle of tin that don't pay the labour. "Hah!" he cried at last, from where he stood in the well-like shaft he had cut, and threw down his pick on the snow. "Now you ought to come." He rose, took hold of Abel as he spoke, and found that his calculations were right, for very little effort was required to draw him forward from out of the snowy mould in which he was belted; and the next minute the poor fellow lay insensible upon the snow, with his rescuer kneeling by him, once more trickling spirit between the blue lips. "Can't swallow," muttered the man, and he screwed up the flask, and set to work rubbing his patient vigorously, regardless of what was going on beneath the rocky wall, till there was a loud cheer, and his two companions came towards him, each holding by and shaking hands heartily with Dallas Adams. For they had mined down to where they could meet him as he toiled upward to escape; and the first words of Dallas, when he was drawn out hot and exhausted, were a question about his cousin. The pair set at liberty joined in now in the endeavour to resuscitate the poor fellow lying on the snow. Their sledge was unpacked, double blankets laid down, and the sufferer lifted upon them, friction liberally applied to the limbs, and at last they had the satisfaction of seeing him unclose his eyes, to stare blindly for a time. Then consciousness returned, there was a look of joy flashing out, and he uttered the words hoarsely: "Dal! Saved!" "Yes, yes, all right, old lad, thanks to these true fellows here. How are you?" "Arms, hands, and legs burning and throbbing horribly. I can hardly bear the pain." The big Cornishman laughed. "Only the hot-ache, my son," he said merrily. "That's a splendid sign. You're not frost-bitten." "God bless you for all you have done," cried Abel, catching at the big fellow's hand. "I couldn't hold out any longer." "Of course you couldn't. Why, your pluck was splendid." "Thank him, Dal," cried Abel. "He has saved my life." "Yah! Fudge! Gammon! Stuff! We don't want no thanking. You two lads would have done the same. We don't want to be preached at. Tommy Bruff, my son, what do you say to a fire, setting the billy to boil, and a bit o' brax'uss?" "Same as you do, laddie. Cup o' tea'll be about the right thing for these two." There was plenty of scrub pine at hand, swept down by the snow-fall, and sticking out here and there. Axes were got to work, and soon after the two sufferers were seated, covered with fur-lined coats, and revelling in the glow of the fire, over which a big tin was steaming, while their new friends were busy bringing out cake, bread, tea, and bacon from their store in the partly unpacked sledge. The big, bearded Cornishman had started a black pipe, and while his companions replenished the fire and prepared for the meal, he sat on a doubled-up piece of tarpaulin, and wiped, dried, and polished picks, shovels, and axes ready for repacking. Every now and then he paused to smile a big, happy, innocent-looking smile at the two who had been rescued, just as if he thoroughly enjoyed what had been done, and then, suddenly dropping the axe he was finishing, caught up a little measure of dry tea, and shouting, "There, she boils!" tossed it into the tin over the fire, lifted it off, and set it aside, and then laid the freshly polished tools on the sledge. Soon after, refreshed by the tins of hot tea, the rescued pair were able to give an account of their adventures, the new-comers listening eagerly and making their comments. "Ho!" said the big Cornishman, frowning. "I expected we should come across some rough 'uns, but I didn't think it was going to be so bad as that. Scared, mates?" "No," said one of his companions; "not yet." "Nor yet me," said the other. "Nor me neither," said the big fellow. "If it's going to be peace and work, man and man, so much the better; but if it's war over the gold, we shall have to fight. What's mine is mine, or ourn; and it'll go awkward for them as meddles with me. I'm a nasty-tempered dog if any one tries to take my bone away; aren't I, my sons?" The two men addressed bent their heads back and burst into a roar of laughter. "Hark at him," said the man spoken to as Tommy. "Don't you believe him, my lads. He's a great big soft-roed pilchard; that's what he is. Eh, Dick Humphreys?" "Yes; like a great big gal," assented the other. "Oh, am I?" said the big fellow. "You don't know, my sons. But I say, though," he continued, tapping the snow with his knuckles, "then for aught we know them three blacks is buried alive just under where we're sitting?" "I'm afraid so." "'Fraid? What are you 'fraid on?" "It is a horrible death," said Abel, with a shudder. "Well, yes, I suppose it is," said the Cornishman thoughtfully. "I say, we ought to get digging to find 'em, oughtn't we?" "We are not sure they are there," said Dallas. "Of course you are not," continued the miner, "and I don't believe they are. You see, your mate here took us for 'em. I believe Natur' made a mistake and buried you two instead of them. If they are down below I haven't heard no signs of them, and they must be dead. Why, it would take us a couple of years to clear all this stuff away, and we mightn't find 'em then. I say, though, what about your tackle?" "Our sledges? They're buried deep down here." "We shall have to get them out, then. You two won't be able to get along without your traps." Soon after an inspection of the position was made; one of the men descended into the hole they had dug close up to the rock wall, and he returned to give his opinion that by devoting a day to the task the shaft could be so enlarged that they could drive a branch down straight to the spot, and save the stores and tools, even if they could not get the sledges out whole. It took two days, though, during which no fresh comers appeared, the report of the snow-fall having stopped further progress. At the end of the above time, pretty well everything was saved by the help of the miner and his companions, who gallantly stood by them. "Oh, we've got plenty of time," said their leader, "and if these sort o' games are going to be played, it strikes me that you two gents would be stronger if you made a sort o' co. along of us. Don't if you don't care to. What do you say to trying how it worked for a bit?" This was gladly acceded to, and on the third day a move was made as far as the spot where the grim discovery had been made. Here the party halted, and the corpse of the unfortunate was reverently covered by a cairn of stones, along with his faithful dog; after which a discussion arose as to what should be done with the poor fellow's implements and stores. "Pity to leave 'em here," said one of the men. "Only spoil. Hadn't we better share 'em out." "Perhaps so," said Dallas. "You three can." "Oh, but there's five on us, sir." "No, only three." "What do you say, Bob?" said the first speaker. "I says bring the poor chap's sled along with us. If we're hard pushed we can use what's there; if we're not we sha'n't want it; and--well, I don't kind o' feel as if I should like any one to nobble my things like that. Same time, I says it is no use to leave 'em to spoil." The next morning, with the young men little the worse for their adventure, they started onward, and for a couple of days made pretty good way, leaving the snow behind in their downward progress, till all further advance was stopped by the change for which they had been prepared before starting. The watershed had been crossed, and they had reached the head waters of one of the tributaries of the vast Yukon River of the three thousand miles flow. The spot they had reached was a long, narrow lake, surrounded at the upper end by fir-woods. The rest of the route was to be by water, and here a suitable raft had to be made. "Fine chance for a chap to set up boatbuilding," said Big Bob. "What do you say? I believe we should make more money over the job than by going to dig it out." "Let's try the gold-digging first," said Dallas; and with a cheer the men set to work at the trees selected, the axes ringing and the pine-chips flying in the bright sunshine till trunk after trunk fell with a crash, to be lopped and trimmed and dragged down to the water's edge ready for rough notching out to form the framework of such a raft as would easily bear the adventurers, their sledges and stores, down the lake and through the torrents and rapids of the river in its wild and turbulent course. The sledges were drawn up together in a triangle to form a shelter to the fire they had lit for cooking, for the wind came down sharply from the mountains. Rifles and pistols lay with the sledges, for the little party of five had stripped to their work, so that, save for the axes they used, they were unarmed. But no thought of danger occurred to any one present; that was postponed in imagination till they had finished the raft and embarked for a twenty-mile sail down to where the river, which entered as a shallow mountain torrent, rushed out, wonderfully augmented, to tear northward in a series of wild rapids, which would need all the strength and courage of the travellers to navigate them in safety. A hearty laugh was ringing out, for the big Cornishman had rather boastingly announced that he could carry one of the fallen trees easily to the lake, put it to the proof, slipped, and gone head first into the water after the tree, when a sharp crack rang out from near at hand. Abel uttered a loud cry, clapped his hands to his head, and fell backward. For a moment or two the men stood as if paralysed, gazing at the fallen youth. Then Dallas looked sharply round, caught sight of a thin film of smoke curling up from the edge of the forest, and with a cry of rage ran toward the sledges, thrusting the handle of his axe through his belt, caught up his revolver from where it lay, and dashed towards the spot whence the firing must have come. _ |
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