"He has a sort of belief in dreams, and he dreamt three times, as he told me, of a stunted tree with gold underneath it. We have been to half the mining camps in the country, and never had any luck; but directly he came here he saw a tree standing just where our claim is, and he declared it was the one he dreamt of. I told him then it didn't seem a likely place to work, but he would have it that it was the tree, and that there was gold under it. He was already weak and ill, and to please him I set to work there. I may tell you, as I have told your friend, that he is my father; there is no reason that there should be any mystery about it, and my only reason for wishing that it should not be generally known is that he had a sort of fancy against it."
"I guessed as much, young man," Abe said, "when I saw you working together three weeks ago. A young man don't tie himself to an old partner who ain't no more good than a child at work unless there's some reason for it, and there's many a father and son, aye, and a father and four or five sons, working together in every mining camp here. Still, if the old man has a fancy agin it we will say nought on the subject. So he dreamt three times of the tree, did he? Well, then, I don't blame him for sticking to the claim; I don't suppose there are a dozen miners in this camp who wouldn't have done the same. I believes there's something in dreams myself; most of us do. And he recognised the tree directly, you say? Wall, it's time for my mate and I to be off to work, but this evening I will walk round and have a look at your claim; thar may be somewhat in it, arter all."
"You don't really believe in dreams, Abe?" Frank said, as they walked off together.
"I think thar's something in 'em," Abe said. "I have heard many a queer story about dreams, and I reckon thar ain't many men as has lived out all thar lives in the plains as doubts thar's something in 'em. The Injins believe in 'em, and, though they ain't got no books to larn 'em, the Injins ain't fools in their own way. I have known a score of cases where dreams came true."
"Yes, I dare say you have," Frank said; "but then there are tens of thousands of cases in which dreams don't come true. A man dreams, for instance, that his wife, or his mother, or some one he cares for, is dead; when he gets home he finds her all right, and never thinks any more about the dream, or says anything about it. If in one case out of ten thousand he finds she is dead, he tells every one about his dream, and it is quoted all about as an instance that dreams come true."
"Yes, perhaps there's something in that," Abe agreed. "But I think there's more than that too. I know a case of a chap who was out in the plains hunting for a caravan on its way down to Santa Fé. There weren't, as far as he knew, any Injins about, and what thar was had always shown themselves friendly and peaceable. He laid down by the fire and went to sleep, and he dreamed that a party of Injins scalped him. He woke in a regular sweat from fright, and he was so badly scared that he scattered the ashes of his fire and took to his horse, and led him into a cedar bush close by. He hadn't been thar twenty minutes when he heard tramping of horses, and along came a party of Injins. They halted not twenty yards away from where his fire had been, and camped till the morning, and then rode on again. He could see by thar dress and paint they were up to mischief, and the very next day they fell upon a small caravan and killed every soul. Now that man's dream saved his life; thar warn't no doubt about that. If he hadn't had warning, and had time to scatter his fire, and move quiet into the bush, and get a blanket over his horse's head to prevent it snorting, it would have been all up with him; and I could tell you a dozen tales like that."
"I think that could be accounted for," Frank said. "The man perhaps was sleeping with his ear on the ground, and in his sleep may have heard the tramping of the Indians' horses as they went over a bit of stony ground, long before he could hear them when he arose to his feet, and the noise set his brain at work, and he dreamt the dream you have told me. But I know from what I have heard that gold-miners are, almost to a man, full of fancies and superstitions, and that they will often take up claims from some idea of luck rather than from their experience and knowledge of ground."
After the work was over Abe and Frank went down to the claim.
"Well, I am free to own," Abe said, "that I don't see no chance of gold here; it's clear out of the course of the stream."
Frank was silent for two or three minutes, and then said:—