AT THE GOLD FIELDS
Confusion reigned in the camp. The storm had come up with such suddenness that no one had been aware of it. Every one had been sleeping soundly, after a hard day, and the first intimation of the outburst of the elements was when the deluge of rain came, and the lean-to was blown over.
"Somebody catch me!" cried Jed, who, wrapped up as he was, in several rubber blankets, was being blown along like a ship under sail.
Will grabbed his brother, and helped to unwrap the coverings. While he was doing this the lightning seemed to be constant, and the roar of thunder was like the firing of heavy guns.
"Whew! This is fierce!" cried Jed, when he got his breath. The horses were huddled together, trying to find some shelter from the pelting rain beneath the trees.
"Fierce?" repeated old Gabe. "How about farming now? This rain beats the one when the cow was killed."
"That's right!" exclaimed Will. "Can't we get under some shelter?"
Hardly had he spoken when, with a terrific crash, lightning struck a tree not far away. The shock stunned the travelers for a few seconds.
"We're safer in the open," said Mr. Hurd. "We'd better get out of this grove," and he moved out of the shelter of the clump of trees where the camp had been pitched.
The rain then seemed to come down harder than ever. It wet them through, and the rubber blankets, which they grabbed up from the wreck of the lean-to, afforded small protection from the pelting downpour.
"I guess you wish you were back in the snug farmhouse, don't you, boys?" called Mr. Harrison above the roar of the storm.
"I do," replied Will, frankly.
"Oh, I can stand it," answered Jed. "We may get worse than this."
"That's right, my boy," added Mr. Curtin. "This is a bad storm, but there's lots of worse things in the gold fields where you're going. Bad men are worse than bad storms."
"Right you are," murmured Gabe. "But if I'm not mistaken, this seems to be letting up a bit."
The rain did not appear to be coming down quite so hard, and there were longer pauses between the flashes of lightning. But if the storm did cease in its violence, it did not stop altogether, for it rained all night, and, though the travelers did manage to make a rude sort of shelter of the blankets, they spent several miserable hours until morning.
"Oh, for some hot coffee and crisp bacon!" exclaimed Will, as he crawled out from under his blanket, and surveyed the wet scene all about. "It wouldn't be so bad then."
"Hot coffee! Crisp bacon!" exclaimed Gabe. "Say, young man, you ought to be glad the sun is shining. There'll be no hot coffee this morning. Wood's too wet to make a fire. Cold grub for ours, until noon, when we may strike a place where we can get some dry tinder. But the sun will soon make our clothes look less as if we'd paid a visit to the washwoman. Up, everybody, and straighten out camp!"
No one cared to linger in the wet blankets, and though it was not a very cheerful company that gathered around to eat a cold breakfast, they all felt that matters might have been much worse.
The packs were soon strapped on the horses, and, mounting their steeds, the travelers set off again. On every side were evidences of the storm. The river they had crossed was swollen to twice its former size, and they were glad that they had forded it the previous evening, instead of delaying, as they would have been held up several days waiting for the flood to subside.
That noon they arrived at a settler's cabin, where they were made welcome, and glad enough they were of it, too, for they were doubtful about finding any dry wood to make a fire, and had the prospect of a cold dinner before them. The settler, who had a small sheep ranch, greeted them cordially, and set out before them the best that he had. However, hot coffee was the most desirable thing he could provide.
From this man Gabe made some inquiries as to the best road to follow, for they were now approaching the gold fields, and they wanted to know the nearest trail to Dizzy Gulch.
"It's not far now," said the old miner to his companions, after a talk with the sheep-herder. "Three days more ought to bring us there."
"Then for the golden nuggets!" exclaimed Jed. "I hope we can send some back to dad soon."
"Don't be too hopeful," cautioned Will, with his usual ability for looking on the dark side of things.
"Yes, I'm going to be hopeful," responded Jed. "Half the fun of a thing is looking forward to it, and I'm going to imagine that I'm going to pick up plenty of the yellow boys. Then, if I'm disappointed, I've had the satisfaction of some good thinking, anyhow."
"That's the right idea," declared Gabe.
They remained that night at the sheep-herder's cabin, and in the morning pressed forward again. The weather was fine after the storm, and that night they camped amid the mountains, near a trail that showed it was well traveled.
"Hark! What's that!" exclaimed Will, in the middle of the night, as he was awakened by hearing voices, and a noise of horses traveling over the rocky path, not far from where they had pitched their camp.
"Sounds like a lot of men," observed Jed.
"It is," replied Gabe, who had also been awakened by the talk of the boys. "They're miners, too," he added, after listening a moment. "They're on their way to new diggings. Boys, we're near our destination. This is where the main trail strikes in. The rush is on, and we're only just in time!"
In the morning, when they started forward, they found they were only one party among a number. The rush was indeed on, and two days later the two boys and their companions were on the edge of the gold fields of Montana, and Dizzy Gulch, of which Ted Jordan had written, was less than a hundred miles away.