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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 16. A Plunge Into Hot Quarters |
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_ CHAPTER SIXTEEN. A PLUNGE INTO HOT QUARTERS "So this is the golden city," said Dallas, as he and Abel sat, worn out and disconsolate, gazing at a confusion of tents, sheds, and shanties, for it could be called nothing else, on the hither side of a tumbled together waste of snow and ice spreading to right and left. "Is it all a swindle or a dream?" "I hope it's a dream," replied his cousin, limping a step or two, and then seating himself on the sledge which, footsore and weary, he had been dragging for the last few days after they had finally abandoned their raft. "I hope it's a dream, and that we shall soon wake." The big Cornishman took his short pipe out of his mouth, blew a big cloud, looked at his companions, who were asleep rolled up in their blankets, and then at the cousins. "Oh, we're wide awake enough, my sons," he said, "and we've got here at last." "Yes," said Dallas bitterly; "we've got here, and what next?" "Make our piles, as the Yankees call it, my lads." "Where?" cried Abel. "Why, we had better have stayed and washed gold-dust out of the sand up one of those streams." "Oh, you mustn't judge of a place first sight; but I must say it aren't pretty. People seems to chuck everything they don't want out o' doors, like the fisher folk down at home in Cornwall. But it's worse here, for they've got no sea to come up and wash the rubbish away." "Nor yet a river," said Dallas. "I expected the Yukon to be a grand flowing stream." "Well, give it a chance, my son," said the big fellow cheerily. "A river can't flow till it begins to thaw a bit. Chap tells me it's very late this year, but it'll break up and clear itself in a few hours. Says it's a sight worth seeing." "But we did not come to see sights," said Abel peevishly. "Where's that other man?" "Gone. Told me to tell you both that he was very grateful for the help you had given him, and that now he's going to shift for himself." "The way of the world!" said Dallas dismally. "Oh, I don't know, my son. He's right enough. Said if he had the luck to find a good claim up one of the creeks he should peg out five more alongside of it and come and look us up, and made me promise I'd do the same to him. What do you think of that?" "Nothing," said Dallas. "I'm too tired out to think of anything but eating and sleeping, and there seems to be no chance of finding a place to do either." "No, my son; it's a case of help yourself. I've been having a look round, and the only thing I can find anybody wants to sell is whisky." "Yes, that was all they had at the store I went to. That's the place with the iron roof and the biscuit-tin sides--yonder, where those howling dogs are tied up." "Ah, I went there," said the Cornishman, "and the Yankee chap it belongs to called it his hotel. But to go back to what we are to do next, my son. We mustn't stay here, but go up to one of the little streams they're talking about, and peg out claims as soon as we find good signs. Now, I've been thinking, like our chap who lost his knife, that we'd better separate here and go different ways. If we find a good place we'll come to you, and if you find one you'll share with us. What do you say?" "Tired of our company?" asked Abel bitterly. The big fellow turned to him and smiled. "Look here, my son," he said, "that foot of yours hurts you more than you owned to. You take my advice; after we've got a bit of a fire and made our camp and cooked our bit o' supper, you make a tin o' water hot and bathe it well, and don't you use that foot much for a day or two. No, my sons, I'm not tired of you. If I had been I should ha' said good-bye days ago. I'm sorry for us to break up our party, but I've been thinking that what I proposed was the best plan, even if it does sound rough." "Yes, I suppose it is," said Dallas, speaking in a more manly way. "I beg your pardon. So does my cousin here. We're fagged out, and this does seem such a damper. I wish we were back somewhere in the pine-woods." "Tchah! I don't want no pardons begged, my son. I know. When I saw this lovely spot first I felt as if I could sit down and swear; but what good would that ha' done? It'll be all right. Now it seems to me that we shall be more comfort'ble if we go just over yonder away from the hotels and places, make our bit o' fire, get a pannikin of tea, and then two of us'll stop and look after the traps in case any one should come and want to borrow things and we not know where they're gone. T'others had better have a look round and drop in here and there at these places where the men meet. It won't do to be proud out here. I want to see some of the gold." "Eh?" cried a big, hearty voice, and a man who was passing stopped short and looked at them. "Want to see some of the gold? Well, there you are!" He unfastened a strap that went across his breast, and drew a heavy leather satchel from where it hung like a cartouche-box on his back. "Catch hold," he cried. "That's some of the stuff." The three awake looked at the stranger sharply, and the Cornishman opened the bag, to lay bare scales, grains, and water-worn and rubbed scraps of rich yellow gold, at the sight of which the new-comers drew their breath hard. "Did you get this here?" cried Dallas. "Not here, my lad, but at Upper Creek. That lot and two more like it. You'd better go on there as soon as you can if you want to take up claims; but I must tell you that all the best are gone already." "Which is the way?" cried Abel. "I'll show you when I go back to-morrow, if you like. Where shall you be?" "Camping just over there," said Dallas, pointing. "All right. I'm going to sleep at the hotel to-night. Come on by-and-by and see me, and we'll have a chat." "I say, my son," said their big companion, putting his hand in the bag, half filling it, and letting the gold run back again, before beginning to fasten the flap. "My son! Why, you're a Cornishman." "That's so." "Glad to see a West-countryman out here. I'm from Devonport. But come on and have a chat by-and-by. What were you going to say, though?" "Seeing what a set of rough pups there are about here, my son, I was going to say, is it safe for a man to carry about a lot of gold like that?" The stranger took back his bag and slung it over his shoulder again, as he looked from one to the other, half-closed his eyes, and nodded. "Yes, and no, my lads. You're right; we have got some rough pups about here--chaps who'd put a bullet into a man for a quarter of what I've got there. But they daren't. We've got neither law nor police, you see." "No, I don't see," said Dallas. "You speak in riddles." "You don't see, my lad, because you're a Johnny Newcome. I'll tell you. We've got some of the most blackguardly scum that could be took off the top of the big town sink-holes--men who've come to rob and gamble; but we've got, too, plenty of sturdy fellows like yourselves, who mean work and who trust one another--men who'll help each other at a pinch; and I've heard that there's a sort of lawyer fellow they call Judge Lynch has put in an appearance, and he stands no nonsense. He's all on the side of the honest workers, and one of them has only to denounce a man as a thief for the Vigilants to nail him at once. Then there's a short trial, a short shrift, and there's one rogue the less in the world." "You mean if he's proved to be a thief, or red-handed." "That's it, my lads. There, I've got some friends to meet. Come on and see me to-night." The speaker nodded cheerily to all three, and went off at a swinging gait. "Well, I wouldn't have minded shaking hands with that chap," said the big Cornishman. "The more of that sort there is out here the better." "Yes," cried Dallas; "his words were quite cheering." "So was the sight of that little leather sack of his, my sons. Do your foot good, Mr Wray?" "Yes, I forgot all about it," said Abel, eagerly. "Here, let's make our fire." This was done, and the billy soon began to bubble, when the tea was thrown in and declared to be delicious, in spite of a mouldy taste consequent upon getting wet in its travels and being dried again. "Better if we hadn't had all our sugar spoiled," said Dallas, as he munched his biscuit along with a very fat rusty scrap of fried bacon. "It don't want any sugar, my son," said the Cornishman. "I've just stirred a teaspoonful of that chap's gold-dust into it, and it has given it a wonderful flavour." "Yes," said Abel, "the sight of that gold seems to have quite changed everything." The meal was finished, with the whole party refreshed and in the best of spirits. Then the sledges were drawn together, a few small pine-saplings bound on to make a roof, over which a couple of waterproof sheets were drawn, and there was a rough tent for a temporary home. By that time it was evening, and lanterns were being hung out here and there, lamps lit in the shanties, and the place began to look more lively. In two tents there was the sound of music--a fiddle in one, a badly played German concertina in the other; but the result was not cheerful, for whenever they were in hearing the great shaggy sledge-dogs, of which there were scores about, set up a dismal barking and howling. The Cornishman's two friends had cheerfully elected to keep the camp, at a word from their big companion, and the other three started to have a look at the place and end by calling at the hotel upon their new acquaintance. As soon as they were a few yards away, the Cornishman laughed and winked. "I can trust you, and I can trust Bob Tregelly, and that's me, my sons; but I can't trust them two where there's whisky about. They've sworn to me that they won't go amongst it, and I'm not going to let 'em. Now then, I'm about to see if I can't find something to eat at a reasonable price, and buy it. Have you lads got any money?" "Yes, a little left," replied both. "Then you'd better ware a pound or so the same way; biscuit and bacon and meal, I should say. I'll meet you yonder at the hotel in an hour, and we'll pick up what we can about the whereabouts of the stuff; but we shan't want to stay here long, I expect. Will that do?" "Yes, in an hour," said Dallas, and they separated. There was not much to take the young men's attention, but they heard a couple of men say that the ice was giving, and another was telling a group of a man having come to the hotel who had done wonders up some creek he and his mates had tried. "Our friend, Bel," said Dallas; and soon after, without making any purchases, from the inability to find what they wanted, they strolled back just at dark towards the hotel. "What a hole!" said Abel, as they approached the place, to find from the lights, the noise, and clattering of drinking-vessels, that a tent which had been stretched over a wooden frame was crowded, and a couple of men in shirt-sleeves were busily going in and out from a side shed of corrugated iron, attending on the assembled guests. "Evening, gentlemen," said the elder of the two. "You'll find room inside. Go right up the middle; there's more seats there." Just then there was a shout of excitement, and the young men looked at one another. "It's all right, gents," said the man, who was evidently the landlord. "We're having a big night. There's a man from Upper Creek with a fine sample of gold. I could show you if you like. Happy to bank for you too if you strike it rich, and supply you with stores and good advice. Any one will speak up for me." "But surely that means a row," said Dallas, as a roar of voices came from the canvas building. "No; that's about a robbery on the track. Three men came in to-day, and they're telling the lads how they were attacked and half killed. The Vigilants are strong here to-night, and there'll be business if the fellows are caught. We don't stand any nonsense here." "Shall we go in, Bel?" whispered Dallas. "Yes; we needn't stay long," was the reply. "I want to talk to that man with the gold." "This way, gentlemen," said the bar-keeper. "You follow me." The pair followed the man into the long low place, along each side of which were trestle tables crowded with men drinking and smoking, the tobacco fumes nearly filling the place like a fog. There was a gangway down the centre, and they followed their guide nearly to the end, when both started violently at the sight of a group of three men seated at a table beneath the largest swinging lamp, whose reflector threw a bright light down on the biggest of the party, who was on his legs, waving his pipe as he talked loudly. "You're making a mistake, mates," he said. "It's just as I telled you, and if it hadn't been for the pluck of my pals here we should have been dead as well as robbed. But you mark my words; they'll make for here, and if they do--ah, what did I say? Look, mates, look; this here's the very pair." There was a wild shout of rage, as every man in the place seemed to leap to his feet; and before, utterly stunned by the sudden attack and denunciation, either of the new-comers could find words to utter in their defence, they were seized and dragged to their knees. _ |
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