Story 1—Chapter XXI.
The War-Whoop.
Having levelled the line for the watercourse, Ernest Wilton prepared for his journey.
The news of the Indian raids made travelling very dangerous, and Mr Rawlins’s urged Ernest to let him go in his stead. But to this Ernest strongly objected, advancing all sorts of reasons but the right one against Mr Rawlings starting for Bismark, stating amongst other arguments that if the worthy leader of the party went, the miners might think he was running away from the Creek for fear of the Indians attacking them.
“No, no, my boy!” laughed Mr Rawlings; “you cannot wheedle me by using such an argument as that, Wilton! It is too absurd, for the miners know me too well for that, and so do you; besides, it is far more perilous to venture out into the open, as you are about to do, than to remain here, where, united together as we are in a phalanx of stout, able-bodied men, in an almost impregnable position, we could resist any formidable attack in force. No, no, my boy; you may tell that to the marines. But do inform me, Wilton, what is your real motive in wishing to go yourself? I consent certainly to your going, as you press the matter; but I should like to know your ulterior object, if only to satisfy my curiosity.”
“Well,” said Ernest, laughing too, “I didn’t like to tell you at first for fear of wounding your sensibilities. To tell you the truth, I think I am more competent to get what I want than you are, as, if I do not see any of the things I require exactly, I may be able to pick up makeshifts that will answer my purpose as well, while you would be trying to procure impossibilities, perhaps, just because I mentioned them in the list of my requirements, and would be satisfied with nothing else.”
“Very good, have your way,” said Mr Rawlings, satisfied with the reason advanced, and handing the young engineer at the same time a roll of greenbacks that represented all his available capital. “But you must be economical in your purchases, my boy. This is all the money I can spare you for your expenses and everything. I think you had better take a few rich specimens with you, and should your funds run short they may give you credit if you tell them you have fifty tons of it ready for the mill.”
“All right,” said Ernest cheerfully, pocketing the parcel, and making an inward resolution the while to supply any deficiency in that respect from his own funds—which, indeed, was his true motive for undertaking the commission in person, although he concealed it from Mr Rawlings; for he was aware that the latter had got near the end of his resources, and would have been indignant if he had offered to be his temporary banker in order to buy all that was now needed for the mine, which he had made up his mind to be, whether he liked it or not, without his knowing it; and he chuckled to himself as he told Mr Rawlings that the money would do amply.
“I suppose, Wilton, you’ll take the waggon and a team of mules with you to bring back the things, eh?” said Mr Rawlings presently, as the young engineer began making his preparations for starting.
“Yes,” said Ernest, “and shall have to hire four or five others; but I need only have them with me as far as Fort Bennett on the Missouri, where, as I pointed out to you just now, I can get a passage in one of the river steamers right up to Bismark, and the same way back with all my purchases. Why, Mr Rawlings, you must have come here by almost as roundabout a route as I did from Oregon! You told me that you took a month getting to Minturne Creek with your mining plant and other goods, dragging them, I suppose, the whole distance from the railway depot across the plains, instead of taking advantage of the waterway as I am going to do now.”
“That is very true,” answered the other. “But Moose said it was the best way, and I allowed him to shape his own course.”
“He’ll have to shape mine now!” said Ernest dryly; and the same day he and the half-breed, with the valiant Josh in charge of the waggon and a ten-mule team, started for Fort Bennett, a distance of some hundred and forty miles from the camp, which they accomplished within three days, not meeting with any obstruction in the shape of Indians on the road.
At this station Ernest left Moose with the waggon and mules, while he took passage for himself and Josh in one of the steam-boats which ply along the rolling waters of the Missouri to the large town on its banks above, that may now be called the capital of Dakota.
At Bismark he was fortunate enough to hear of some machinery which would exactly suit him; it had been sent west for a mine, which before it arrived had proved so poor that it was abandoned, and the wheel and stamps were now for sale. He also laid in some stores, besides a quantity of gunpowder, and lead for bullets, which he thought would come in handy for the Indians should they lay siege to Minturne Creek.
When he knew the weight of the goods, he sent word down the river to Moose at Fort Bennett, and the latter hired five additional waggons and teams, which were all in readiness when he arrived by steamer with the machinery. Everything was soon packed up, and the little party tracked back to the camp, having been but twenty days away altogether.
“You air smart!” said Seth, who was the first to welcome Ernest on his arrival, the ex-mate having now quite recovered from his wounds, and “hopping about on his pins,” as he expressed it, “as merrily as ever,” himself again in every particular. “You air smart, mister! I guess you’re the slickest coon I ever seed for makin’ tracks—Jerusalem, you air!”
“You would have made haste too, friend Seth,” said Ernest, laughing—there never was such a fellow to laugh as he was—“if you had heard what I have about those blessed Indians, and our old acquaintance, Rising Cloud.”
“What is that?” asked Mr Rawlings anxiously, who had just come up in time to catch the last observation of the young engineer—“what have you heard about Rising Cloud?”
“Only,” said Ernest, and he spoke gravely enough now—“that he is spreading murder and havoc all along the banks of the Missouri, and may be soon here upon us with the miscreant gang he leads. I heard terrible tales of him in the steamer I came down the river in. The captain of the little craft told me that the Indians had burnt every outlying settlement in Southern Dakota, massacring all the white inhabitants, and were making their way northwards, so we’d better look out. Why, he said they’d even attacked his boat when it was at one of the landings; and if he hadn’t put on steam he and his vessel would have been settled, with all on board.”
“Ah,” said Mr Rawlings, “that corroborates the warning we got from the commander of the United States troops at Fort Warren when you were away. We certainly must keep a careful look now, for it would not do to repeat all of my poor Cousin Ned’s experiences, and have the result of our toil snatched from our grasp by those relentless fiends of the prairie when it was just within our reach, as it was in his, poor fellow!”
Mr Rawlings then went on to tell Ernest what they had heard, and give an account of what had transpired during his absence at the settlements; after which the whole party proceeded to examine their defences in detail, the young engineer suggesting that they should entrench the camp in a systematic way, and also the machinery which would be erected on the river’s bank.
There were but two directions from which they could be attacked; for the precipitous range of the Black Hills, standing behind Minturne Creek with its semicircular rampart, protected their rear and sides, so that they had only their front face to guard, along the course of the stream, following the gulch.
The same safeguards which they had adopted before were redoubled in the face of the second warning they received by the account Ernest Wilton brought back with him of the Indian savages in their neighbourhood, their day and night watch being maintained with the strictest regularity.
The teams were soon unloaded and started on their return journey, and with the exception of the men engaged in clearing out the quartz from the mine, all hands set to to erect the water-wheel and stamps, which operation, as all the pieces of timber were fitted and numbered, was an easy and rapid one.
In three weeks afterwards all was ready for a start. Five hundredweight of quartz was then weighed out and carried down to the stamps, the gear which connected the machinery with the great wheel which was revolving in the river was connected, and the stamps began to rise and fall with a heavy regular rhythm.
The quartz was thrown in beneath the stamps shovelful by shovelful, and in an hour and a half the last fragment was used up. For another half hour the stamps rose and fell, then the water running through them was no longer milk-white, and the stamps were stopped. Then the blankets spread upon the ways by which the mud-charged gold had flowed were taken up and washed, the quicksilver was taken out of the concentrators and passed through wash-leather bags, in which great rolls of amalgam remained. These were placed in large crucibles to drive off the quicksilver, and then removed from the furnace and the gold placed in the scale. To this was added the fine gold from the blankets. Ernest Wilton added the weights, and around him stood Mr Rawlings and all the miners off duty.
“Just a hundred ounces,” he said, “five hundred ounces to the ton; speaking roughly, 1800 pounds a ton.”
“Hurrah!” shouted Seth Allport, his ringing voice making itself heard above the sound of the rushing water and the echoing chorus of the men’s cheers; but, an instant after, his exclamation of delight was changed to one of dismay, as a flight of arrows and the ping of rifle bullets whistled around the party, while the dread war-whoop of their Indian assailants burst forth in all its shrill discordancy.
“Who—ah—ah—ah—ah—oop!”