“How dat?” inquired the African, with profound amazement.
“He saw you drop the saddles, and heard you speak about them containing gold.”
“I know dat, but he told me he didn’t tink dere war any gold here, while you tole him dat we had had purty good luck, an’ had got ’siderable.”
“However, there is no need of disputing about it, Jim; he has made up his mind to rob us of that gold, if he has to cut our throats to do it, and the question with us is, how are we to prevent it.”
“The camp-fire has burned down pretty low,” said Inwood, “let’s pick up our traps and change our quarters.”
“No doubt he is watching us.”
“What if he is? It is so dark that we can give him the slip.”
The suggestion of the boy’s seemed to be the best under the circumstances, and the two concluded to act upon it at once. Jim quietly stole down the bank of the stream, slipped the lariat pegs by which the animals were held, and then led them about a half mile down the rocky bed of the brook, several times stumbling and bruising himself. Finally he reached a spot which felt right, where he tethered them, and returned to the brothers, who were rather impatiently awaiting him.
“I’s found a place,” said he, “you needn’t tumble down more nor a dozen times in gitten’ dere.”
The gold was burdensome, but they distributed it among themselves, the African taking about nine-tenths, and George very nearly all that remained. They then began picking their way down the stream, being guided almost entirely by the sense of touch. The negro’s remarkable memory of places was found to assist them a great deal. George kept so close to him that he could touch him at any moment with his outstretched arms, while Edwin did touch his brother continually to make sure that he was not losing him. They stumbled quite often, and bruised themselves considerably, but not enough to affect their progress to any degree, and at the end of something over an hour, Jim suddenly came to a stand still, with the whispered exclamation: