CHAPTER XXVII.
A DISCOVERY.
Buffalo Bill would have liked to have returned to his own camp that night, but he saw that Black Bill was still somewhat dazed by the wound in his head, and he did not just know how it would turn out.
The scout had known similar wounds prove fatal when least expected, and if the negro was left to guard the two prisoners he might lapse into unconsciousness, and there be a possibility of the men getting free.
Then, too, he knew what had been said by the two men of the pards they were expecting.
They were overdue and might never come; and again, if they did happen to come that very night it would mean sure death to Black Bill, should he be left there alone.
So the scout decided to remain, and, after the meal was over, he secured the prisoners, left the negro in charge, and started out on a search. He was not long in finding a trail leading into a wild cañon, through which flowed a stream, like a river in wet weather, but at other times dry.
Going down this, the scout saw that he had struck the gold beds of the people of the Lost Valley.
It was a case of placer mining, the wash from the mountains of the particles of gold, and yet the pick and shovel had been brought into use also in the bed of the cañon.
“They have gotten considerable gold out of here, that is certain, and these men have been steadily at work, I see; but where are the people of the Lost Valley, for only these two murderous scamps seem to be anywhere about.”
So musing, Buffalo Bill went on through the cañon, came out into a large valley, and, climbing to the top of a lofty cliff, looked about, glass in hand.