The Haunted Mine

by Harry Castlemon

"A man can do a heap of things when he is working for his life and for things that he can't afford to lose," said Banta, with a laugh. "Pete has a heap of strength in those arms of his, and when I get hold of a mule's tail and begin to twist it, he goes somewhere as soon as he can. We got them up easy enough, and there we stayed for two whole days, until the water had all passed away. We didn't lose so much as a pound of bacon. But if I had been asleep, like the rest of the fellows were, we would have had a time of it; somebody would have had to swim for his life, and the current ran like lightning, too."

"I did not know you had to look out for water on the plains," remarked Julian. "Is there anything you don't stand in fear of out here? You see, we want to know it all."

"Well, a waterspout is one thing, and a blizzard is the next," said Banta. "I mean a blizzard where the clouds send down chunks of ice at you as big as your fist. Oh, you needn't laugh. Look at that."

Banta stripped up his leggings, and showed the boys a long, ragged scar which he had received in one of the commotions of nature referred to. The wound must have been a dangerous one.

"And the worst of it was, I did not have a doctor look at it for two weeks," Banta went on. "You see, I was out alone, and making the best track I could for the fort. The sky had all along been hazy, and on this day I had to go across the Twenty-mile desert, where there was not a willow-twig big enough for me to get under. When I was about half-way over it began to rain, and in less than an hour afterward the blizzard came a-ripping. My horse and mule were made so frantic by the pelting of the ice that I finally let them go; but before I released the horse I took my knife and cut the saddle and blankets off him. What did I do that for? Because I was too cold to use my fingers. I settled down there on the prairie, put the saddle and blankets over my head, and waited for the storm to cease; but before I did that, there came a big bunch of ice and struck me on the leg. I never had anything hurt so bad in my life."

"How long did you have to stay there?" asked Jack. "I hear that some of these storms last two or three days."

"This one lasted one day, and I was glad to see the ice quit dropping. I was thirty miles from the fort, and I'll bet I didn't do two miles of walking in all that distance. I left everything except my weapons and crawled all the way. This is the saddle, right here."

"I should keep that for the good it had done," said Julian. "Your saddle probably saved your life."

"It will stay with me while I live," said Banta, casting an affectionate look upon the article in question. "Now, boys, suppose you get ready and chop some wood and start the fire. I'll take the things off the animals and straighten up the lean-to. You boys don't know how to make a lean-to, do you? If you take a good look at this one, you will see how it is done."

There was one satisfaction the boys had in listening to Mr. Banta's stories—they were true, every word of them. If any of the "boys" tried to make things different from what they were, Banta always shut them up. That was the reason the boys thought so much of him, and anything he had to say in regard to working their mine was always listened to with the keenest interest.